"Overdone and Undercooked" Newspaper Columns©

I was in the yard pulling out weeds.  When I saw an elderly man, approaching me from the Neighbor’s yard.  I stood up and watched him as he waved at me.

”Hello,” I said.

A little out of breath he, said, ”Hello my name is Howard.  I represent Weyerhouse.  And I want to discuss with you the Sale of your Property.”

”Really?”  ”I see you came up from the Neighbors.”  ”Yes, I actually went door to door with this discussion.  Do you have a minute.”

The tailgate was dropped from the truck.  So, since it was warm outside and I didn’t know this guy from Adam.

I said, “Sure if you want to talk sit down.”  He did.  He said that the Company wanted to buy all the Houses that sat on this Hill to start a new housing development.”

I JUST STARED AT HIM.

Here was this gentleman with a polo shirt and slacks.  White socks with his black shoes.  A tummy pouch and reminding me of an Elf.

”Now?” ”While we are still in recession?”  I asked.

”You builders know something the rest of us don’t know.”

Feeling on edge and disbelief I snorkley said,

”DOES THIS MEAN THAT YOU JUST WANT TO STEEL OUR PROPERTY!!!”

 

 

My mother had so many strange habits.  Everything in her house had to be white.  White walls, white furniture.  No magazines were allowed in the house.  She read and reread the same books over and over.  She had the typical attitude of the time,  where she hated different groups of people, and envy others, and had talent that was wasted. Her favorite books she read over and over was Will and Arial Durante Complete History series.

Her mother my Grandma was a Holly Roller.  She lived by herself in her advanced age  attended a Church a Member of an Evangelical Christian group that expresses: Religious: Fervor by Frenzied Excitement or Trances.   I remember as a child spending a month or so with her in the Summer.  In her tiny apartment, kitchen, bedroom with a bathroom.  I would sleep in the bed with her.  Maybe age 6 or 7.  I would wake before her and look out the window or read my Nancy Drew book.  When Grandma got up she did not stay in her pj or walk around with slippers.  She dressed like a lady.  I would watch her put her wig on.  She was completely bald, from some sort of disease she told me.  I just nodded politely.  I didn’t care. I loved her.  I loved pie.

In the morning we would have pie for breakfast or spaghetti!  I loved eating her pies!  They were as good as my Moms, who said that Grandma was the best Pastry Chef.  Then she would send me outside where I would walk to the store to buy a candy necklace.  And then go to the park and chew on my necklace, while I layed on my stomach, on the rubber swing, and use my feet and toes to push me back and forth.

We went to Church every day.  I would sit on pew and listen to the screaming and watch Grandmamma lift her arms to the sky and dance with the others down the aisle.  I had a pencil so I just drew pictures on the back of the wooden pew softly so know one would notice.  It didn’t scare me or bother me cause I loved Grandmamma. Grand Ma said she was a Bible Thumper as we walked back to her bottom of the floor apartment.  Where the upstairs lived the landlord.  I just smiled and held her hand tight.

She and my Mom did not get along too well.  So, I didn’t see her again until I was a Teenager.  We picked her up at the Bus Station.  She had on thick coke bottle glasses, that made her eyes 5 times their size and purple lips.

We held hands in the back seat of Dad’s car and prayed together that we would not crash.

 

”My Mom had a saying, ”Someone just walked over my Grave.”  I cannot recall the exact time I heard her say that.  I can recall that she said it very many times.  The first time I got a chill.  It started at the base of my neck.  It went down my spine and into my fingers.  Thereafter, I shrugged it off.  I did not know what it meant, and I didn’t want to know.

When I married and had a child she made innuendos.  Something about feeling things.  Always impossible to have a complete conversation without her becoming angry.  I would puzzle over this, I knew she was trying to share something with me.  Something to do with……..?  She had stories about feeling things.  Like knowing the phone would ring.  Or the  car in front of her was going to change lanes.  Or there had been an accident and Dad would walk through the door with his arm in a sling.  Or she would tell us the end of the movie before it finished.

When my father would be late for dinner and I asked why.  She would say, ”Because he is with his other family.”  I would laugh because surely, she meant the office.   She married my father when he was 25 and she was 40 pregnant with me.  Late in life he betrayed her with a young woman who he fathered three sons with.

Mom never said a word to anyone.  She kept it all inside herself until the day she died.  Then the truth came out–anyway.  Sheesh!  That is the way it was with us.  And the worst thing of all?  It is only now that I think I finally understand what she had been trying to tell me since my youth.  She never came out and said the words.  When I told her I had a feeling.  She would just  ‘poo poo’ it and tell me, ”Jill it is just your imagination, Dearie.”

 

All I could say was he hadn’t paid December’s rent.  No $400 for December.  The money I count on each month to pay the Mortgage.  I could feel tears growing.   The Sheriff asked if I could call him.

I walked back into the house.  Grabbed my phone.  And tried to calm down for a minute with deep breaths before I opened the front door again.

I called Dimitri in front of the two men outside.  Dimitri seemed to have a long voice message, but I didn’t hear it.  I was feeling sick to my stomach.  So, I left a message:  ”Dimitri, this is Jillie.  What time today will you be coming to pay the rent.”  ”Give me a call, please.”

The Sheriff called the Captain, who told them, they weren’t allowed to go inside the Barn, because Dimitri was a renter.  The Detective said to call back as he handed me his card on Sunday nite.  ”If you don’t hear back from Dimitri.”

Then the Detective stepped away from the dooor.  He pointed at the field.  He asked, ”If I owned the land to the end of the field and if the boats and trailers were my playthings.”

I told them both about my financial situation.  Parking vehicles and renting the Barn helped me pay the Mortgage after the abandonment from my Husband.  But, I told the Officer, the neighbors didn’t like the parking.

The Detective said, ” It’s your property.  And you do what you have to do.”  The Sheriff said, ”If Dimitri shows up, make sure you get your rent money first.  Then call this number.  Okay, Ma’am, you take care.  Thank you for your time.

They both left without saying anything about my Truck Tabs.  I walked to the Barn when they left, and looked in the window.  Everything was as it always was.

Down in the dumps, I walked the field trying to breathe, but like an Oxygen Thief, only tears came out.  I’ve learned something in these almost three and 1/2 years about process.  I have had to move in the process of not giving up.  And not turning backward.  My process is to save myself by paying attention to details.

I am still in my warm, comfortable home.  Still after everyone told me I wouldn’t and couldn’t and I was a fool not to FORECLOSE.

I am filled NO LONGER WITH FEAR…… BUT WITH PRIDE.

Someone has driven up the driveway.  And is pointing at the back of my red truck.  I have not bought new car tabs for three years.  The second man parked in front of my red truck and get’s out.  And my stomach drops to the ground.  It is another Sheriff!!!

The first thing in my mind is that Nick is dead.  Or the Jaquar, I sold has license problems, or No Tabs on the red truck.   I open the front door before they even knock.

They both come walking up to the door.  The tall man is holding a bunch of papers in his hand.  Immediately, I think now that a lawyer is suing me. That this is a Summons.  So, I think, I won’t tell them my name.

The Sheriff says, ”Is Dimitri Goff here.”  I instantly went into shock.  ”Dimitri”? ”My Barn Renter?”  ”Yes,”the Sheriff, said.  My mind is whirling.  Dimitri (I always call him George) pays his rent.  He has his three wonderful little dachshund dogs, that I love.  He wears thick glasses, and spends his day refurbishing bicylces in and out of the Barn.

He had helped me all summer with flat tires on my lawnmower.  He rambles on about politics and how much he loves his son and his parents.

I was stupefied.

Dimitri had not come to the Barn much last couple of months.  But, it was winter.  The Sheriff said,  ”Dimitri has been stealing Bicycles.  ”No, no not Dimitri.  He has been with me for almost two years.  Stealing bicycles?? No? I do not believe that is true.”

The tall man told me that he was a Detective.  He said, ”Five bikes have been stolen.”  He went through the paperwork in his hand.  Showing, me where the bikes had been.  And when they were stolen.

I was shocked.

”TED!’  Mike had an irritated expression on his face. ”Okay…..here’s what it is Jillie.  You said a year of parking and you would be on your feet.”

”But, I,  uh I have been on my property here for over years, Mike.  And yes, I need help.  Money.  I need Money.  You’re not here to help me?  ”No.  Mike ain’t here to help you.  You need to leave.”  Ted says as he rolls his eye.

Suddenly, I couldn’t bear to look at Ted.  I just wanted to shove him under a bus.  Ted was the neighbor when you are on vacation and cuts down your favorite tree….in your yard.   Or the neighbor who claimed you were one inch on their property and he was going to sue you or throw a rock at that damn Heat Pump that is too noisy.  The one neighbor I tried to avoid.  And here he is standing on my deck without being asked.  NOT GOOD.

”Leave and go where, Ted?”   ”Jillie, that’s not our problem.” Ted smirked.  ”Mike, okay, ” I say,  I force a smile.  Either way, yes, I did make a mistake, that, and yes.  I fixed it.  Hey, I know the Semi was a problem ok,  but now I have mostly just boats and really good renters, without the parking I can’t pay the bills.  The parking can’t be paying for your Mortgage, ”Mike says gently.

”No,  no,  no, no, no however, I have others bills too, like utilities.”

If they only knew I was already on food stamps.

I could hear hate in Ted’s voice as a muscle twitched in his jaw.  ”TED”  Mike had  an irritated expression on his face. ”Okay….here’s what it is Jillie.  You said a year of pakring and you would be on your feet.”  ”But, I , uh, I have been on My  Property for close to almost so long I can’t even remember.  Mike and Yes I need help.  Money. I need money.  You’re not here to help me?”

”No. Mike ain’t here to help you!!  You need to leave.”  Ted says, as he rolls his eyes.  Suddenly I couldn’t bear to look at Ted.  I just wanted to shove hime under a BUS.  Ted was the neighbor, when you are on vacation,  cuts down your favorite tree… in your yard!!  Or the neighbor ,who claimed you were one inch, on their property and he was going to sue you or throw a rock at that damn heat pump that is too noisy.  The one neighbor I tried to avoid.  And here he is standing on MY Deck without being asked.  NOT GOOD.

”Leave and go where, Ted?”  ”Jillie, that’s not our problem.”Ted smirked.  ”Mike, Okay” I say.  I force a smile.  ”Either way, yes, I did make a mistake, that, and yes.  I fixed it.  Hey, I know the semi was a problem, ok but now I have mostly just boats and really good renters, without the parking, I can’t pay the bills.”

”The parking can’t be paying for your Mortage,” Mike says gently.  ”No, no, no,  no, However, I have other bills too.  Like Utilities.”  If they only knew I was aready on Food Stamps.

I knew right then and there.  It was the Boat Parking in my field.  I had let one of the Renters put a Tent over the Boat.  It really was huge.  Too afraid to say anything to the Boat Owner.  In fear ,that he would not pay upfront, the three-month rent.

”Ted, calm down.  And let’s have a conversation with her,” said Mike.  What is going on.”  I say puzzled. ”Jillie.”  Mike clears his throat.  His 6-feet frame lowered with his slumped shoulders and tilted head.  ”Um. Yes. Um. The wives aren’t here because…”   Before he could answer, Ted jumps in with a shout!  ”We  want you out of our neighborhood.”  Compared to my 5ft 7in frame Ted was short.  But he was like a piece of gristle.  With the added pinched look of a man who drinks a couple of six packs every day and smokes unfiltered cigarettes.

The only thing that looks alive on him is his hair.  From the top of his forehead to the back of his ears his mop had to be four inches in height.  It was so thick and curly you yould barely see the cigarette that sat strangled inside curl on the side of his ear.

”Mike…?  Mike!”  What is Ted talking about?  ”I will tell you what I’m talking about.  ”Ted moves closer to me as I step back.  ”We have had enough of YOU and how YOU have junked out OUR neighborhood.”  ”Neighborhood?? There are just the four familes on a total of ten acres, I said.”

”Jillie, three years ago you came to our home,”  Mike said, with a warm smile.  ”Mike, I would ask you to sit, but I have sold all the Deck Furniture.  ”I laugh nervously.” ”Hey! She just…..”  ”STOP Ted.  Let me finish my sentence.”  Mike turned his back on Ted and looks at me as if I were the Village Idiot. ”Jillie, slowly he continues, ”You said, you needed money, or you were going to put parking in your field.”

”Parking!”  Jesus Christ.  She has had boats, cars and don’t forget the God Damn semi-truck.”

As  I step out of the shower, I hear the knock on the front door.  Please, Please, don’t be any more Police.  I silently pray.  Dripping wet.  I grab a towel around me and tiptoe to the beige blinds on the bedroom window.  I peek out the slits in the blinds, closed against the morning sunlight, and look down onto the wood deck.

OH MY GOD.  it is my neighbor, Mike!  Oh my gosh.  He is here to help me!  I fling off the towel.  Dig through the pile of dirty clothes on the floor.  Cursing the broked washing machine.  Literally jump into my sweats and old t-shirt.  No makeup. Wet head.  I don’t care I’m too excited.  I run down the stairs so fast it feels like flying.  In to the family room and out onto the deck.

I stop short.  My neighbor is not alone.  ”Hello Jillie.”  ”Oh.  Uh….Hi Ted.” I walk to Mike.  My favorite neighbor.  Not Ted.  One of—if not the most—pig-headed cocky human beings on the Planet.  With a friendly pat on Mike’s shoulder I ask, ”Where’s your wife?”  ”We need to talk,” says Ted.  I look at Mike.  He is looking down at the ground.  I assume because the deck has several holes from rotting wood.  But I know better.  He’s embarrassed.  Once again Ted (neighborhood bully) has butted  into something that is none of his business.

”Mike, I appreciate you coming over.  I’m so glad for the help.”

“Help?”  We are not here to help you, Jillie.”  ”What did you say, Ted?”  ”You heard me.”

 

Always a strange mix of people at these jobs.  Many divorced ladies, kids taking a break from college, people working second jobs.  The weird mix of people stuck in a mess.  A few that stay years, and others that only make it a couple of days.

The desperate, like me.  I would go in the bathroom and do wall push ups.

The phone calls were full of answering machines, hang-ups, wrong number, gigling smartass children, pushing all the buttons.   The people on the phone, the elderly, the angry, the confused and the long waits between calls and no voicemails. There were some funny voice mails.  Here ’tis a few of my favorites.  ”I, am  as old, as when God created light.”  ”No one said I love you today…well…we do.”  ”How long your boots been under someone else’s bed.”  ”I will live well and die when I can’t help it.”

What is so ironic is on the day I quit Furniture Buy, I had an EPHANY!  I am in control.  Not the Bills.  Not the Mortgage.  Not the lack of Finances.  I am in control.  I have lived here on my own.  In four months it will be for Three Years by myself.  Fear takes away.  I decide how to react over employees, Sheriffs, and losing the window seat.   I am no longer in fear.  And no longer need Social Services. I will not go there anymore.  I can find me back again.  I cancelled Food Stamps. I am done.  I will not go there anymore.   It is very odd because I have part-time work, little unemployment money, and no idea how I’m going to pay my Mortgage. But I feel safe and okay.  I cut off food stamps and Hope Link.  I am not afraid to be with out, as I can always get a telemarketing job.  I know all my past fears.  I have gone through and no how to handle them.

Is that why?  Because, I have walked across the hot coals.  I know what it taste, smell,  and feels like.  Been here – done that.  I can face something, I am familiar with, the last 3 years, were full of scary monsters.  Unknown, unsure and all very unsafe.

Hit me again I DARE YOU!!!