Frank Zappa Moves In

Frank Zappa Moves In

         “Um, please sit,” Holly said with a slight wave of her arm, “Can I get you anything to drink?” Mr. Aberdeen’s stumpy frame waddled across her living room, sweat dripping from his brow. She fought the urge to make him sit on a towel. Frank Zappa didn’t move from the door and Holly was certain he hadn’t even blinked.

         “No thank you Dear. Let’s just get down to business.” Holly nodded taking a seat on the opposite couch facing Mr. Aberdeen, but where she could keep an eye on Frank Zappa. “Do you recall a former patient of yours, Mr. Hendrickson?”

         “Of course, he passed a few weeks ago,” Holly replied glancing at Frank Zappa out of the corner of her eye. He still hadn’t made an attempt to make his presence known.

         “Well, Mr. Hendrickson was rather fond of you and had written in his last will in testament for you to be Frank Zappa’s guardian.” Mr. Aberdeen fingered through papers in his worn leather briefcase.

         “I beg your pardon?” Holly blinked a few times in disbelief. Mr. Hendrickson was barely awake during her shift as his evening nurse. What would make him think she wanted to care for his dog? She had watched animal planet with him a few times and brought Frank Zappa treats occasionally, but he had to know she was more of a cat person.

         “Mr. Hendrickson thought you would be the best person to care for his beloved boxer.” Mr. Aberdeen peered over his reading glasses as if this wasn’t an odd request.

         “But, why me? Why wouldn’t his family want the dog? I mean I didn’t know Mr. Hendrickson all that well.” Holly started frantically rubbing her hands together and took a deep breath trying to control her anxiety.

         “Well Dear,” Mr. Aberdeen removed his glasses and gently placed a stack of paper on Holly’s polished coffee table, “to be perfectly honest with you, Mr. Hendrickson was afraid his family would have Frank Zappa put down.” They both looked over at the dog as if he would understand what those words meant. He laid his tawny chest down casually on Holly’s recently steam cleaned rug and looked like he was beginning to get comfortable.

         Holly hopped to her feet, “Would you excuse me a moment?” Mr. Aberdeen nodded as Holly burst through the swinging kitchen door. Deep breaths, it’s just a dog. Dogs have fewer germs than humans. You will be fine. She washed her hands, filled a small glass with water and returned to the living room where Mr. Aberdeen had made several piles of paper.

         “Are you ready to get started on the paperwork?” Mr. Aberdeen asked as Holly took her seat.

         She turned the cool glass in her hands, “But why would they put him down? He is just a dog.” Holly took another sip of water.

         “Because Frank Zappa is the sole heir to Mr. Hendrickson’s estate, which is currently valued at,” he licked his fore finger and rifled through a stack of paper. Holly gulped another drink of water hoping she wouldn’t have to touch that stack, “4.2 billion dollars.” Water started spraying from Holly’s mouth involuntarily. She covered her lips with her hands to stop the spewing.

         “I’m so sorry!”  She jumped up and grabbed a towel out of the kitchen and handed it to Mr. Aberdeen who dabbed his face and the front of his shirt.

         “It’s quite alright Dear. At least it wasn’t vodka or something with some kick.” Holly could feel her face flushing and glanced over at Frank Zappa who had covered his face with his giant paws. She sat back down and pushed the coaster with the glass of water across the table out of her reach.

         “I’m so sorry again, but how is a dog supposed to be an heir to that amount of money?”

         A slight smirk came across Mr. Aberdeen’s face, “Well, obviously he can’t, so the money goes to his caregiver provided Frank Zappa is well taken care of.” Holly started to see spots. She knew Mr. Hendrickson was wealthy, but that amount of money was just ridiculous.

         “Wait. So, basically this money goes to me?”

         “Yes, Dear. Mr. Hendrickson felt you would be the best guardian for Frank Zappa and therefore the best guardian for Frank Zappa’s money.” Holly’s gaze darted toward Frank Zappa who had sat up in his regal position with his cropped ears on alert. She steadied herself with the arm of the pristine white sofa.

         “But… I… But… I didn’t even know him that well. Why wouldn’t he give it to his family? Why does this dog need that amount of money? I can take care of him on my salary.”

         Mr. Aberdeen pushed his wire rim glasses back up his greasy nose, “It is not for me to say. He called his family ‘vultures of the worst kind,’ and Frank Zappa was his only real companion. He wanted to leave him in good hands, which he thought were yours. Now let’s go over Frank Zappa’s schedule.”

         “Schedule?” Holly asked wondering if she heard him correctly.

         “Yes Dear, schedule. You may need to take notes.” He handed her a pad of paper and a pen, which she quickly wiped off with a tissue in her pocket. Mr. Aberdeen rattled off Frank Zappa’s weekly schedule of training, walks, grooming, massages and play dates. Holly couldn’t believe Frank Zappa had a better social life than her. “Of course his agent will schedule any appearances or competitions you are to take him to, and here is the card of Frank Zappa’s accountant, who will make all the payments for his care.” Holly took the card in disbelief her mouth unable to close. “So, are you ready to sign the papers?”

         “One more question. What happens to him if I refuse?”  Holly glanced over at Frank Zappa whose dark eyes looked pleadingly at her.

         “Well, then Mr. Hendrickson’s estate will go to probate court where his family will more than likely get custody of Frank Zappa and the money.”

         “More than likely?”

         “This is an unprecedented event. Probate court can take many years and Frank Zappa will probably be placed in a shelter until his custodian can be determined.” A whine escaped Frank Zappa’s throat. Holly tried not to look at him.

         “So, what happens to the money once he,” Holly pointed discreetly at Frank Zappa, “passes?” her question came out in a forced whisper.

         “The money will then transfer to you.” Mr. Aberdeen clicked the end of his pen.

         “What am I supposed to do with that amount of money?”

         Mr. Aberdeen smiled, “Whatever you want Dear. Invest, buy a house, travel the world, donate to charity.” He shrugged and held out the pen for her take. She took the pen and looked back at Frank Zappa. She started to reach for her tissue to wipe it off, but stopped short.

         “Where do I sign?” Once all the papers were signed, Mr. Aberdeen told her to expect a delivery of Frank Zappa’s items later on that day. Then he was gone. Holly leaned back in the sofa looking up at the speckled ceiling. Frank Zappa quietly walked over to her placing his large, wet jowls on her thigh. She quickly pushed him off and got up for her hand sanitizer, “One step at a time buddy. One step at a time.”