Bickersons

I walked through the red front door, letting the screen door hit me in the butt a bit, then I pushed closed the solid wood behind me with a loud thump. I loved the way it echoed through the house. Nothing seemed amiss, and I gave a little smile, apparently my intuition was poor. I noted I'd been paying on the place for fifteen years when the bill came a few days ago, and that was halfway to free and clear! Off came my light jacket, which I hung in the hall on a lovely carved rack. This place, thinking about carrying his bride across the threshold, has suited us well. We were both about thirty-five, and I still had it, I thought. "I think I could still carry her across it today!" I said aloud.


The house was what the realtor said was a rambler. I'd always thought that was a car made by American Motors or someone, but apparently it's a style of house as well. What it meant to me was you couldn't see very well from room to room. I shrugged off an orange vest and set my "gut bucket" down that was now devoid of any food. A twelve hour shift is bad, but when you get a sick call-in and have to work an extra half, you eat everything you can find. Nothing in the break room is sacred! Yelling, "Honey, I'm home!" got no reply as I stepped from the hall into the living room. The television was on, but low, and she didn't really notice me. Then I caught a whiff of a fruity smell on the air, or maybe some that had gone slightly bad. Then it evolved into more of a stink.


"What the hell?" I said softly to myself. There was an overturned can of kitchen trash on the floor. "Did the cat do this?"
She looked at me with disdain. "No the cat did not. I kicked it over for grins. Unless I'm some cat as well!"
"What's wrong with you?" I wasn't sure she was fully awake. "Are you cat lady?"
"You jackass! Cat lady?" She looked astounded, "What's wrong with me?"
"Never mind." I held up my hands, palms out.
"If you think I'm the problem here..." Her face was red as a beet. "Well, then just forget you!"


She was too proper to swear any worse than that. I walked across the room and into the kitchen, shaking my head all the way. It looked like the remains of the last four or five meals, all which I'd missed, were still scattered about. It wasn't summer, so it wasn't rancid. That would have been much worse. Still, I had no idea what was going on, so like an idiot, I asked.


"So Ruby, what's with the mess in the kitchen and the spill in here?"
"Excuse me?" She snarled. "You want a clean house, then you clean it!"
"Whoa!" I held up my hands again. "What the heck is going on?!"


I was floored. It simply wasn't a response I'd ever seen from her. She told me she was tired of just being home all the time, even though we'd discussed ideas of what else she might enjoy. There was school, or a part-time job, or even some volunteer position that could be fun. It didn't seem like anything would work. But I wouldn't give up, and it was clear that cabin fever was having an impact.


"You see this?" She pointed at the flat screen. "How many of these shows do I have to watch? How many puzzles do I solve?!" She tossed a crossword puzzle magazine my way.
"Well, as many as you want?" I replied. "I'm just not sure why you didn't tend to the house. If you worked, I'd be the one doing it, that's how we work this thing."
"Oh really. You think this is something easy? My part is easy?!"
"No!" I said loudly. "Look, maybe you need some help..."


Oh, let me tell you. In this situation that was a bad thing to say. You see, I meant some young person to pick up stuff around the place for minimum wage. But what she heard wasn't that, and she growled, "Oh, you want to send me off to some doctor for help?" I tried to explain, but I was getting nowhere. I made her comfortable, and in my phone found a nice take-out a couple blocks away. It was a simple pizza order, and I left her to go get the pie. Usually the streets at this time of night had a bit more traffic, but I glided through, even hitting the lights. Cash for the food, back to the car, I turned around and headed back in minutes. The smell of tomato sauce and warm veggies and meat had my stomach making noise.


"Hello!" I got no answer, and it concerned me. I hurried into the living room, but found her in the kitchen. She was slumped in a chair with a pill bottle on the floor. All of the tablets were gone, but I knew what she'd taken -- an opioid analgesic -- and they were all too familiar in my line of work. I ran back to the bus and grabbed my bag, the big orange one with the white patch and red cross. She was easy to revive with naloxone, so instead of a hospital, I put her on the couch. Even with the ambulance right outside, running her to a hospital would be a bad choice. I was a about to help her or kill her, I guess. Either way her family, Christian Scientists, would kill me if I took her in, so no big choice for me.


I took more interest in the house once she was breathing fine, and since she would probably sleep for a little while, I got to work with a sigh. The mess from cat and kitchen took me a little over an hour to clean, and it sucked. I don't like cats. I hate living with a mess even worse, though. That made it a very ugly evening for me, but I had to hold it together. Maybe that little beast would help fixing the other mess. The one on the couch, the one that's much worse. I thought about the problem with my love Ruby, and knew it could take much longer than cleaning a kitchen. I'm up for it, but damn. I mean, damn. I'm going to need some help to know what's wrong. I started talking to myself.


"Yeah, fixin' that might take a whole different set of wrenches," I forced a smile. "But that's what it's all about."



[WC: 1124]