Sam walks back in less than two minutes. I know what he's going to say before it mumbles out of his mouth.
"What's for dinner?"
"I wasn't planning much. I usually go out for dinner on Thursdays. Since I didn't know I was going to have a guest, we pretty much stuck with frozen. I've got a fairly good selection, and we have some fresh things that we have to use soon, so it won't be as hopeless as it sounds."
"Frozen," Sam whimpers.
"What do you expect? I'm a twenty-seven year old bachelor. I don't cook, unless I really want to or need to." I reply.
"Fine."
Sam quickly finds the chicken parm to his liking; I go for the meat loaf. While I microwave his meal, I toss up a salad using the last of the lettuce and tomato I have. It's not much of a salad, but it would all go bad once we leave for New York. I get his plate ready while my tray is cooking.
"I'm sorry this isn't that much. We will also have to drink the last of the milk. Anything we don't have tonight, we can eat tomorrow for breakfast."
We sit at the dining room table, eating in silence. There's so much I need toast Sam, but I don't want to bring up anything that could upset him. I know I have to ask him soon. This just ions't the best time.
"Why are there books in the china cabinets? I noticed books all over your home gym, as well," Sam piped up. He must have done a little snooping when he went to wash up.
"Blame the previous owners. When the bank foreclosed, they left much of the furniture. She only took. the really valuable stuff that she bought and liked. She left everything that wasn't hers or too big to be useful. Since they didn't have any bookcases and I don't have any china, I put many of books where I can. I've got so many that they have started to spread onto the exercise equipment."
"It looked like you didn't use it much," Sam plainly said.
I almost do a spit take. I admit I've put on some weight since I graduated, but I didn't think it was that bad or noticeable. Sure, I may have gone up one size in my pants, but most of my older stuff still kind of fits.
"I work out. Once, twice a week. I just don't know how to use most of it. They're not originally mine, after all."
"Whatever." Sam barely whispers out that out, but I can almost see a smile crack as he bends his head down for another bite.
"We're going to have leave early tomorrow, so you'll have to go to bed by nine. After dinner and dishes, you're going to have to take a bath. Change into your PJs, and I'll wash your other clothes, so everything will be clean for the trip. I've already fixed the bed for you for tonight. I'm taking the couch. As you already know, it's fairly comfortable."
Sam barely nods. I know he's not liking the idea, but it must be done.
After we're done eating, I turn on the television to catch the seven o'clock news. I can hear it from the kitchen, even if I can't see it. Not much happened in Lexington today. At least to anyone else. Storms could be headed this way for the weekend, but Friday looks dry. Good news for the trip.
I finish the dishes in a few minutes. We're not talking. We don't want to talk, and I won't force the issue. Some people just want to fill the silences, but not me. I prefer to listen. It usually turns out a little awkward, but most get the lesson.
At just before eight, I send Sam to take a bath so I can wash his clothes, as well as the dirty linens and a few other things. I usually do the wash on Saturday mornings, but since I won't be here I have to tonight. I hate having to change my schedule, but I do it. I'll have more in the morning.
I leave out a tote for Sam to put his stuff in. He looks uncomfortable in his pajamas, as I get him set for the night.
"I've got it as dark in here as I can. It's still light out, and I'm sorry if you have trouble falling asleep. I'll get you up about five. It shouldn't take too long to finish everything before we leave. I'll have the rest of your clothes ready by then. If you have any trouble in the night, don't be afraid to wake me. Good night."
"Night," Sam responds as I flip the light off.
I still have a few last things to do. There's one last load in the dryer. I'll have to wait until morning to shower, soI won't wake Sam. I brush my teeth and finish up in the tiny half-bath off from the laundry room. It's sort of my little secret.
It will take another ten minutes for the dryer, so I start to pack up my Mac. Before I do, I decide to do one last search. I tried at the office and when I was talking to mom, but I never got the chance. Now, I do. I type in 'Phillip Joshua Burton' with a '-obituary' qualifier. I want to know how he lived, not how he died.
I instantly ignore the re-election campaign for a California state senator. Also, the "Phillip Burton Film Appreciation Society". There's a gun store in Alabama, and a senior citizen marathon record holder in Florida. The top entry on the second page looks promising. It the faculty of a NYC area university. I click the link.
"Phillip Burton, PhD, Art Instruction, Multi-Discipline"
Art? I look down the entry, showing his multiple shows and accomplishments. He's been teaching for over a decade, with distinction. He taken the last year off, sabbatical. Doesn't say why. The staff picture finally downloads. It's him. Same brown hair, a little gray at the temples. Same brown eyes, piercing into me. Light beard, flecks of grey there too. I see myself. I see Sam. This has to be him.
The dryer tone goes off. I quickly erase my history and sign off. I'll try packing it up int he morning. I get the last of the linens out and folded for tomorrow. I'm glad I changed the sheets. Sam might not like the fact that I usually sleep in the nude this time year.
I start turning out the lights, as I fix up the pillow and blanket on the couch. I lay in the dark for a few minutes. I saw my Dad. It was him! Too late to be any good. I cry myself to sleep.
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Tuesday, July 24, 2018
Dada: Chapter 6a
"What's wrong?"
"Why does there have to be anything wrong?" I reply.
"You only call on weekends and holidays, and barely then. It's Thursday. So, what's wrong?"
"I didn't think I needed a reason to call you," a rather standard response from me. We go through the almost exact same routine every time I call.
"What's wrong, Chris. Tell me."
"Don't you mean Phillip?" I blurt out with almost no hesitation. I know what it will do to her, but I need to get this done, and soon.
It takes her five seconds to respond. "He found you. After all this time, he found you."
"Actually, he didn't. A private detective found me. I had to go down to the courthouse to meet with someone about it."
"Courthouse? Are you in trouble? Am I in trouble?" She always thinks about herself first.
"After all but kidnapping me, changing our names a half-a-dozen times, whisking us around the country? It's been over twenty years; I doubt you're in trouble." I know her so well.
"That's good. So, why were you brought down?"
"Asked down, not brought down. He's dead, mom. Car accident last week," I try to be calm in saying it to her.
"At least it's nothing bad."
"He's dead. So is his wife. Try to be a little sympathetic. It turns out I'm the next of kin. I need to go to New York to clear up some details."
"There will be a lot of details. His father was rich, way rich, old money rich. That's why we had tome around so much. I needed to stay away, or else your father would try to keep you. No matter what else you hear, your father was not as good of a man as they say he was."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.
"He was into some weird things. That's why I left him as soon as I could. That man was not a normal human being. Do you know what you will be getting yet?"
"No. In fact, I might not be getting much at all. The only thing I know for sure is that I am now the guardian of my half-brother, Sam."
"A brother? After being raised by him, I am not sure you should be near him."
"He's only just turned fourteen. He has no one else to turn to. If I don't help him, there's nobody else." I practically yell at her.
"Fourteen? There's no way you're capable of handling a fourteen year old."
"Men my age have kids all the time! How will this be any different?"
"Men your age have toddlers, not teenagers. Besides, you are still not responsible enough to handle having a child."
"Responsible? I don't have enough fingers to count out all the times you thought I couldn't do something, and I proved you wrong." I am all but yelling now. While all this is going on, I'm busy online, planning for tomorrow's trip. Who says men can't multi-task? Sure, it's getting to become a distraction, but I manage.
"I am still you mother, even if you all but ignore me. You are not ready. You haven't even been able to have a girlfriend for more than a few months. How can you handle a teenager?"
"Look. I will be going to New York to take care of things. They might not even allow me to take him. I don't know what will happen. I just called today, because I might not be able to this weekend. And I had to tell you, I know. I know what you did when I was young."
"You don't know everything."
"I know more than you think."
"No, you don't. That family was wrong on so many fronts. Even if you get anything out of it, it won't be worth it."
"You just want your share. If you were so interested in money, you should have asked for alimony and child support. You moved into grandma's house less than a month after she died. You said it was because your place got damaged in a flood, but I know you just wanted to get her things before anyone else did," Especially after I found out about the secret bank account, that she got none of. "You sold that place, and someone moved in almost immediately. No clean up whatsoever. You just used it as an excuse to get rid of my old stuff."
"How dare you! I know more than you. You are wrong about what you think you know."
"I shouldn't have called. I'm not ready for this. Goodbye, Cindy Mae."
I hang up on her. She won't call me back, at least not tonight. I print off the last few things I need for the trip. There is a lot to do. I need to search online about what my mom said about my father. She can't be right about it.
That's when I notice it's after six. I better wake up Sam and start dinner, or we'll be late tomorrow.
"Sam, wake up. It's about time to eat. You better wash up and start thinking about what you want. I don't have that big a selection, but there's a lot to look at." I yell through the doorway into the living room.
"What?" Sam yawns as he sits up. "Where? Oh, yeah. I'm here."
He stands up to stretch and quickly turns away from me, his hand reaching down to rearrange his shorts. Apparently, he's woken up in a state most men wake up it, particularly teenagers.
"Where did you say the bathroom was? I think I was falling asleep when you told me the last time," he all but whispers.
"Through this doorway, and first door on the right. It connects directly into the bedroom, if you want to change into anything. I'd advise against it."
"Thanks."
I turn into the kitchen, as he slowly hobbles past. He deliberately keeps his back to me, so I can't see what he's got. I have to fight the urge to say something. I wait until he closes the door before I start to laugh. It really is a natural thing, so I shouldn't be laughing, but I can't help it.
Back in high school, I had a class with this one guy who did the exact same thing, but intentionally. He was a grade above me, soI didn't know him too well. At least once a week, he would get out of his desk to stretch and yawn, prominently displaying himself. Hardly anyone paid any attention, after the first few times he did it. He probably thought it was funny. I just thought it was crass and rude. He wasn't even that impressive. I would call it 'below-average' myself. Not that I ever actually saw him, mind you. Still, I can see how such I thing could be funny.
"Why does there have to be anything wrong?" I reply.
"You only call on weekends and holidays, and barely then. It's Thursday. So, what's wrong?"
"I didn't think I needed a reason to call you," a rather standard response from me. We go through the almost exact same routine every time I call.
"What's wrong, Chris. Tell me."
"Don't you mean Phillip?" I blurt out with almost no hesitation. I know what it will do to her, but I need to get this done, and soon.
It takes her five seconds to respond. "He found you. After all this time, he found you."
"Actually, he didn't. A private detective found me. I had to go down to the courthouse to meet with someone about it."
"Courthouse? Are you in trouble? Am I in trouble?" She always thinks about herself first.
"After all but kidnapping me, changing our names a half-a-dozen times, whisking us around the country? It's been over twenty years; I doubt you're in trouble." I know her so well.
"That's good. So, why were you brought down?"
"Asked down, not brought down. He's dead, mom. Car accident last week," I try to be calm in saying it to her.
"At least it's nothing bad."
"He's dead. So is his wife. Try to be a little sympathetic. It turns out I'm the next of kin. I need to go to New York to clear up some details."
"There will be a lot of details. His father was rich, way rich, old money rich. That's why we had tome around so much. I needed to stay away, or else your father would try to keep you. No matter what else you hear, your father was not as good of a man as they say he was."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.
"He was into some weird things. That's why I left him as soon as I could. That man was not a normal human being. Do you know what you will be getting yet?"
"No. In fact, I might not be getting much at all. The only thing I know for sure is that I am now the guardian of my half-brother, Sam."
"A brother? After being raised by him, I am not sure you should be near him."
"He's only just turned fourteen. He has no one else to turn to. If I don't help him, there's nobody else." I practically yell at her.
"Fourteen? There's no way you're capable of handling a fourteen year old."
"Men my age have kids all the time! How will this be any different?"
"Men your age have toddlers, not teenagers. Besides, you are still not responsible enough to handle having a child."
"Responsible? I don't have enough fingers to count out all the times you thought I couldn't do something, and I proved you wrong." I am all but yelling now. While all this is going on, I'm busy online, planning for tomorrow's trip. Who says men can't multi-task? Sure, it's getting to become a distraction, but I manage.
"I am still you mother, even if you all but ignore me. You are not ready. You haven't even been able to have a girlfriend for more than a few months. How can you handle a teenager?"
"Look. I will be going to New York to take care of things. They might not even allow me to take him. I don't know what will happen. I just called today, because I might not be able to this weekend. And I had to tell you, I know. I know what you did when I was young."
"You don't know everything."
"I know more than you think."
"No, you don't. That family was wrong on so many fronts. Even if you get anything out of it, it won't be worth it."
"You just want your share. If you were so interested in money, you should have asked for alimony and child support. You moved into grandma's house less than a month after she died. You said it was because your place got damaged in a flood, but I know you just wanted to get her things before anyone else did," Especially after I found out about the secret bank account, that she got none of. "You sold that place, and someone moved in almost immediately. No clean up whatsoever. You just used it as an excuse to get rid of my old stuff."
"How dare you! I know more than you. You are wrong about what you think you know."
"I shouldn't have called. I'm not ready for this. Goodbye, Cindy Mae."
I hang up on her. She won't call me back, at least not tonight. I print off the last few things I need for the trip. There is a lot to do. I need to search online about what my mom said about my father. She can't be right about it.
That's when I notice it's after six. I better wake up Sam and start dinner, or we'll be late tomorrow.
"Sam, wake up. It's about time to eat. You better wash up and start thinking about what you want. I don't have that big a selection, but there's a lot to look at." I yell through the doorway into the living room.
"What?" Sam yawns as he sits up. "Where? Oh, yeah. I'm here."
He stands up to stretch and quickly turns away from me, his hand reaching down to rearrange his shorts. Apparently, he's woken up in a state most men wake up it, particularly teenagers.
"Where did you say the bathroom was? I think I was falling asleep when you told me the last time," he all but whispers.
"Through this doorway, and first door on the right. It connects directly into the bedroom, if you want to change into anything. I'd advise against it."
"Thanks."
I turn into the kitchen, as he slowly hobbles past. He deliberately keeps his back to me, so I can't see what he's got. I have to fight the urge to say something. I wait until he closes the door before I start to laugh. It really is a natural thing, so I shouldn't be laughing, but I can't help it.
Back in high school, I had a class with this one guy who did the exact same thing, but intentionally. He was a grade above me, soI didn't know him too well. At least once a week, he would get out of his desk to stretch and yawn, prominently displaying himself. Hardly anyone paid any attention, after the first few times he did it. He probably thought it was funny. I just thought it was crass and rude. He wasn't even that impressive. I would call it 'below-average' myself. Not that I ever actually saw him, mind you. Still, I can see how such I thing could be funny.
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Dada: Chapter Six
It doesn't take long to get to my house on the west side of town. School let out over an hour ago. Rush hour doesn't start for a little while yet. The roads are fairly clear. Sam is trying to be quiet, but he doesn't quite stifle a yawn. I keep the radio off so we can talk, but Sam no longer feels like it.
"Now, you might find the house a little strange. I bought it just after college. I had an unexpected windfall, so I just got it. The previous owners went through a nasty divorce, and the wife got sole custody. She and her lawyer boyfriend made some major changes. Unfortunately, they ran the husband dry, and he didn't have enough left over to pay off the mortgage. The bank foreclosed with only a few months left to pay it off. I swooped in, and the rest is history." I relate to Sam. He isn't really listening.
"It's just a street or two over from where I was living my last year at school. Just close enough to commute, but far enough away not to get caught in any rowdy mobs. I sublet out rooms during the year, but the last tenants left at spring break. So, we'll be the only ones there." I leave out the part where the the two students were arrested on drug charges in Daytona.
Sam almost perks up when we finally pull into the short driveway. The house is a faux Victorian with a more contemporary addition on the left side and back. The drive leads up to what used to be a garage, but is now part of a home gym/office combo that totally destroys the charm of the original three-story structure. We walk up to the front door on the right side of the building.
"What is going on with this place?" Sam whispers as we walk into the front hall.
"The design is somewhat off-putting. It would look better if the last owner stuck to the original plans, but they messed everything up." I respond.
The front door opens onto a small hall with a small closet then goes to the right of the stairs. There's a small parlor directly to the right, with a door to the laundry and utility rooms at the end of the hall. The stairs lead to the second floor landing with a common living area with a kitchenette, two bedrooms, and a shared bathroom. A second staircase leads to a small landing and the door to the partially finished attic. I keep the door locked when there are tenants.
I unlock the sliding door that blocks out my living quarters from the rest of the house. "Watch out for the step. The living room is sunken." Sam all but trips anyway.
"Kind of big, isn't it. Bigger than you could need, anyway." Sam finally responds as he drops his bags on the sofa.
"It wasn't the case. At least I have plenty of storage. The hall to the left of the dining room lead to the bedroom and master bath, if you need to clean up a little." I hint at Sam so he can take his things in. Unfortunately, he fell asleep almost immediately after he sat down.
I take his clothes into the bedroom, clearing a few things up as I go along. Everything is pretty much already neat. Nothing much needs to be hid. My dirty clothes are in the hamper. The breakfast dishes were already cleaned. The few things a fourteen year shouldn't be seeing are already put away. I don't have much of that type of thing, but I did have to move a few things down to the basement. (The only door is in the pantry beside the kitchen, next to the always locked door to the laundry room only side. I can't be too careful with boarders about, after all.)
Most of my comics and game supplements are safely locked up I the cabinets in the office and dining room. Yes, I am using a china cabinet to house books. It's stupid, I know, but I don't rally have anything else that could fit in there. What can I say, I'm a single guy. What do I need with extra dishes.
There's one last thing to clear up--my computer. It sits on a desk to the side of the dining room table. It was the best place for it. I double check the history, clearing the few things I don't think Sam should see. I also change the password. Can't let him get into trouble, not this soon after meeting him.
One last thing to do. I have to place the call. I pull out my phone. I should have done this hours ago, when I first found out, but I didn't want Sam to hear what I have to say. I could wait until this evening, but then I might chicken out. The call goes through on the third ring.
"Hello. What are you calling about?" the voice on the other end asks.
"Hi, mom."
"Now, you might find the house a little strange. I bought it just after college. I had an unexpected windfall, so I just got it. The previous owners went through a nasty divorce, and the wife got sole custody. She and her lawyer boyfriend made some major changes. Unfortunately, they ran the husband dry, and he didn't have enough left over to pay off the mortgage. The bank foreclosed with only a few months left to pay it off. I swooped in, and the rest is history." I relate to Sam. He isn't really listening.
"It's just a street or two over from where I was living my last year at school. Just close enough to commute, but far enough away not to get caught in any rowdy mobs. I sublet out rooms during the year, but the last tenants left at spring break. So, we'll be the only ones there." I leave out the part where the the two students were arrested on drug charges in Daytona.
Sam almost perks up when we finally pull into the short driveway. The house is a faux Victorian with a more contemporary addition on the left side and back. The drive leads up to what used to be a garage, but is now part of a home gym/office combo that totally destroys the charm of the original three-story structure. We walk up to the front door on the right side of the building.
"What is going on with this place?" Sam whispers as we walk into the front hall.
"The design is somewhat off-putting. It would look better if the last owner stuck to the original plans, but they messed everything up." I respond.
The front door opens onto a small hall with a small closet then goes to the right of the stairs. There's a small parlor directly to the right, with a door to the laundry and utility rooms at the end of the hall. The stairs lead to the second floor landing with a common living area with a kitchenette, two bedrooms, and a shared bathroom. A second staircase leads to a small landing and the door to the partially finished attic. I keep the door locked when there are tenants.
I unlock the sliding door that blocks out my living quarters from the rest of the house. "Watch out for the step. The living room is sunken." Sam all but trips anyway.
"Kind of big, isn't it. Bigger than you could need, anyway." Sam finally responds as he drops his bags on the sofa.
"It wasn't the case. At least I have plenty of storage. The hall to the left of the dining room lead to the bedroom and master bath, if you need to clean up a little." I hint at Sam so he can take his things in. Unfortunately, he fell asleep almost immediately after he sat down.
I take his clothes into the bedroom, clearing a few things up as I go along. Everything is pretty much already neat. Nothing much needs to be hid. My dirty clothes are in the hamper. The breakfast dishes were already cleaned. The few things a fourteen year shouldn't be seeing are already put away. I don't have much of that type of thing, but I did have to move a few things down to the basement. (The only door is in the pantry beside the kitchen, next to the always locked door to the laundry room only side. I can't be too careful with boarders about, after all.)
Most of my comics and game supplements are safely locked up I the cabinets in the office and dining room. Yes, I am using a china cabinet to house books. It's stupid, I know, but I don't rally have anything else that could fit in there. What can I say, I'm a single guy. What do I need with extra dishes.
There's one last thing to clear up--my computer. It sits on a desk to the side of the dining room table. It was the best place for it. I double check the history, clearing the few things I don't think Sam should see. I also change the password. Can't let him get into trouble, not this soon after meeting him.
One last thing to do. I have to place the call. I pull out my phone. I should have done this hours ago, when I first found out, but I didn't want Sam to hear what I have to say. I could wait until this evening, but then I might chicken out. The call goes through on the third ring.
"Hello. What are you calling about?" the voice on the other end asks.
"Hi, mom."
Tuesday, July 10, 2018
Dada: Chapter 5a
It takes only a minute or so to drive from Target to the mall parking lot. It's barely enough time for Sam to change his socks and shoes. I park near the food court entrance, as it is about the midpoint of the mall, or at least the original part. I don't remember Fayette Mall before it expanded, south and southeast. They added an entire wing at the south end about the time I was born; then added onto the eastern wing of the expansion soon after. Then there was the center, extra restaurants, and the closing of original anchor Sears. It was converted into various smaller stores, not all rented out yet.
"Okay, this is the plan. You dump out everything from the bag, and only take in the shorts and tee. You'll probably need to change your underwear, but that will be a little tricky in the restroom, so forget about it."
"Actually, I just turned it inside out this morning." Sam whispered, slightly embarrassed.
"Funny, I didn't even hear about that trick until I was seventeen. Doesn't really work though. Your clothes could still get dirty. Anyway, you might not want to take in a pair. After that, we'll eat and shop for the rest of your gear. How's that for you?" I ask.
"I guess it is okay," Sam replied.
I lead Sam straight to the family restrooms, just inside the food court entrance. Luckily, they aren't too crowded for a early weekday afternoon. He takes a stall near the end of the line, while a go into the one next to him. I had been waiting to relieve myself for awhile, but I prefer some privacy. Anxiety issues for going in public. I have been that way since grade school. At least I finish before Sam can change out of his clothes. I am done washing my hands as he steps out, his now to small suit in the plastic bag.
"I should have asked you this sooner, but where do you want to eat? We've got burgers, chicken, chili, cheesesteak, and Asian."
"Pizza." Sam quickly suggests.
How did I know he would choose pizza. Don't get me wrong. I like pizza. There are three different places at the mall. One in the center, one small joint on the southwest wing, and one in the food court. The last one is my least favorite. The food is good, but they don't have fountain water. Only bottled stuff, which I feel is kind of a rip-off. They only serve Coke products as well, another big negative. However, it's Sam's choice, and he is growing boy, etc.
I get a plain slice and a water, while Same gets two of pepperoni. I use a fork to eat, so I won't have to wash me hands again. Sam just shoves the slices into his face, as if he hadn't eaten in days.
"Make sure you wipe all the grease of your fingers; you wouldn't want to get your new clothes oily before you even get to wear them." I politely inform him. He just gives me the same disbelieving stare I used to give my mom when she said the same thing to me at his age. I sounded so old.
It only takes a few minutes for him to finish. "We'll take your old clothes back to the car, then we'll shop. You said you weren't able to bring anything with, including your phone. Is that right?"
"Yeah. Just got it for my birthday. Not too much on it yet." Sam responds as we walk back inside.
"Was it an iPhone, or another brand?" I ask.
"Samsung, I think," he responds.
"Sorry."
"It's not that important. Like I said, I haven't had it for long."
"Actually, I meant that I am sorry it wasn't an Apple. I might have been able for you to synch up to it. Maybe not, but we could have tried." I apologize. "Here's what I mean."
Our first stop is the Apple store. I had called ahead to have a few things ready for me, just in case.
"How may I help you?" the sales associate asked soon after we walked in.
"There's an Apple store in the mall?" Sam wonder aloud.
"Yeah, we have one here. Actually, I called ahead to order a few things. Grant should have them ready by now."
"One moment, and I will check on him for you. My name is Clair. Feel free to ask for me if you have any problems. " she said, before she walks away.
"What are we here for?" Sam asks just as Grant walks over to us.
Grant has been my go-ti guy here for over a year now. Strict professional, even if his sleeve tats and pink streak in his black hair suggest otherwise. Fourth year computer engineering student at UK. Leans more towards coding than hardware, but very proficient.
"Hey Chris. I've got that gear for you. Transport cases, backup energy pod, and portable hotspot for you. I guess you might need to go somewhere." Grant teasingly asks.
"Yeah. This is my half-brother, Sam. I'm going to be taking him back to his hoe this weekend, and I want to take the desktop with me. It's a hassle, but I just might need it where we're going."
"Say no more. We've already got everything set up for you. I take it you will be using..." Grant tries to finish before I cut him off.
"Apple Pay." I say, whipping out my phone. "All done. Mind holding these a little longer while we shop around a bit?"
"We're starting to get a little swamped. You better take them with you, or else you might not be able to reach me." Grant replies.
It was going to be a hassle, but I carry the three big bags with me. Fortunately, I know this mall inside and out. I quickly aim Sam at the best places for him. PJs and socks at Macys. A belt and sneakers at Penny's. A few shirts at A & F. Jeans and a new pair of dressier pants at Dillards. We trek from on end of the mall to the other in less than two hours, with a bare minimum of deviance from our path. One small shake, plus a cookie for Sam, on the way out, and we are done.
"Don't get too comfortable," I say to him as we get back to the car. "We've got one last stop to make before we go back to my place. And you might not like it that much."
He gives me a puzzled look as he buckles up.
We drive back out, past Target, and into another side road. I pull off into a new parking lot.
"This is another mall, although it has become something more of a really extensive shopping center, since most of the smaller stores and anchors have left. Still, the main store is something else."
"What is it?" Sam quietly asks, again.
"A book store. Joseph-Beth."
I try to visit each of Lexington's independent book store multiple times a month. It isn't part of my job description; I just like to do it. Most try to feature Homestead's books. Not always prominently, but we take any shout-out we can get. JB is the largest one. Sure, there's a Barnes here, too, but it doesn't like to focus too much on a small regional publisher like us. JB used to be at an end store, before expanding into the unit next to it. It then moved into the central hub of the mall, taking over spots that used to hold about a half-dozen smaller units on two floors. At least they display our books with the other local interest ones, quite noticeably too.
"Kids' books are downstairs, if you want to look. I suggest just staying close by until I talk to someone though. This place is a little big and confusing for first-timers."
I walk over to the check-out. "I need to talk to someone about a reserve order."
"Yes, sir. Under what name is it for." the clerk asks. It is not someone I recognize.
"Chris Burton. I reserved a copy of the new Jasper Fforde 'Thursday Next' novel coming out Tuesday. However, I will be out of town then, and I just wanted to make sure that you would hold it for me until I can come back for it. I have already pre-paid for it."
She runs it through her computer as I wait, Sam nervously pacing through the new releases section.
"Here it is. Scheduled for next week. Fully paid. We can hold it for you for another week, no problem. My name is Teri if you have any questions upon pick-up." she replies.
"Thank you. I will be back to pick it up as soon as I can." I say to her as I walk back to Sam. "Want to look around a bit?"
"Not really. I don't read all that much," he all but whispers, ashamed almost at the fact.
"Suit yourself. Try not to get into trouble." He silently tails me as a check out a few magazines. I take a brief runaround the main sections, before coming back around to local interest to see how many of our books they have out--only seven, but with multiple copies of most. I pay for the two magazines and the maps I got from travel, and we are on our way.
"We'll be back at my place soon. I need to warn you though. It might not be what you are expecting." I leave him stunned as we drive off to home.
"Okay, this is the plan. You dump out everything from the bag, and only take in the shorts and tee. You'll probably need to change your underwear, but that will be a little tricky in the restroom, so forget about it."
"Actually, I just turned it inside out this morning." Sam whispered, slightly embarrassed.
"Funny, I didn't even hear about that trick until I was seventeen. Doesn't really work though. Your clothes could still get dirty. Anyway, you might not want to take in a pair. After that, we'll eat and shop for the rest of your gear. How's that for you?" I ask.
"I guess it is okay," Sam replied.
I lead Sam straight to the family restrooms, just inside the food court entrance. Luckily, they aren't too crowded for a early weekday afternoon. He takes a stall near the end of the line, while a go into the one next to him. I had been waiting to relieve myself for awhile, but I prefer some privacy. Anxiety issues for going in public. I have been that way since grade school. At least I finish before Sam can change out of his clothes. I am done washing my hands as he steps out, his now to small suit in the plastic bag.
"I should have asked you this sooner, but where do you want to eat? We've got burgers, chicken, chili, cheesesteak, and Asian."
"Pizza." Sam quickly suggests.
How did I know he would choose pizza. Don't get me wrong. I like pizza. There are three different places at the mall. One in the center, one small joint on the southwest wing, and one in the food court. The last one is my least favorite. The food is good, but they don't have fountain water. Only bottled stuff, which I feel is kind of a rip-off. They only serve Coke products as well, another big negative. However, it's Sam's choice, and he is growing boy, etc.
I get a plain slice and a water, while Same gets two of pepperoni. I use a fork to eat, so I won't have to wash me hands again. Sam just shoves the slices into his face, as if he hadn't eaten in days.
"Make sure you wipe all the grease of your fingers; you wouldn't want to get your new clothes oily before you even get to wear them." I politely inform him. He just gives me the same disbelieving stare I used to give my mom when she said the same thing to me at his age. I sounded so old.
It only takes a few minutes for him to finish. "We'll take your old clothes back to the car, then we'll shop. You said you weren't able to bring anything with, including your phone. Is that right?"
"Yeah. Just got it for my birthday. Not too much on it yet." Sam responds as we walk back inside.
"Was it an iPhone, or another brand?" I ask.
"Samsung, I think," he responds.
"Sorry."
"It's not that important. Like I said, I haven't had it for long."
"Actually, I meant that I am sorry it wasn't an Apple. I might have been able for you to synch up to it. Maybe not, but we could have tried." I apologize. "Here's what I mean."
Our first stop is the Apple store. I had called ahead to have a few things ready for me, just in case.
"How may I help you?" the sales associate asked soon after we walked in.
"There's an Apple store in the mall?" Sam wonder aloud.
"Yeah, we have one here. Actually, I called ahead to order a few things. Grant should have them ready by now."
"One moment, and I will check on him for you. My name is Clair. Feel free to ask for me if you have any problems. " she said, before she walks away.
"What are we here for?" Sam asks just as Grant walks over to us.
Grant has been my go-ti guy here for over a year now. Strict professional, even if his sleeve tats and pink streak in his black hair suggest otherwise. Fourth year computer engineering student at UK. Leans more towards coding than hardware, but very proficient.
"Hey Chris. I've got that gear for you. Transport cases, backup energy pod, and portable hotspot for you. I guess you might need to go somewhere." Grant teasingly asks.
"Yeah. This is my half-brother, Sam. I'm going to be taking him back to his hoe this weekend, and I want to take the desktop with me. It's a hassle, but I just might need it where we're going."
"Say no more. We've already got everything set up for you. I take it you will be using..." Grant tries to finish before I cut him off.
"Apple Pay." I say, whipping out my phone. "All done. Mind holding these a little longer while we shop around a bit?"
"We're starting to get a little swamped. You better take them with you, or else you might not be able to reach me." Grant replies.
It was going to be a hassle, but I carry the three big bags with me. Fortunately, I know this mall inside and out. I quickly aim Sam at the best places for him. PJs and socks at Macys. A belt and sneakers at Penny's. A few shirts at A & F. Jeans and a new pair of dressier pants at Dillards. We trek from on end of the mall to the other in less than two hours, with a bare minimum of deviance from our path. One small shake, plus a cookie for Sam, on the way out, and we are done.
"Don't get too comfortable," I say to him as we get back to the car. "We've got one last stop to make before we go back to my place. And you might not like it that much."
He gives me a puzzled look as he buckles up.
We drive back out, past Target, and into another side road. I pull off into a new parking lot.
"This is another mall, although it has become something more of a really extensive shopping center, since most of the smaller stores and anchors have left. Still, the main store is something else."
"What is it?" Sam quietly asks, again.
"A book store. Joseph-Beth."
I try to visit each of Lexington's independent book store multiple times a month. It isn't part of my job description; I just like to do it. Most try to feature Homestead's books. Not always prominently, but we take any shout-out we can get. JB is the largest one. Sure, there's a Barnes here, too, but it doesn't like to focus too much on a small regional publisher like us. JB used to be at an end store, before expanding into the unit next to it. It then moved into the central hub of the mall, taking over spots that used to hold about a half-dozen smaller units on two floors. At least they display our books with the other local interest ones, quite noticeably too.
"Kids' books are downstairs, if you want to look. I suggest just staying close by until I talk to someone though. This place is a little big and confusing for first-timers."
I walk over to the check-out. "I need to talk to someone about a reserve order."
"Yes, sir. Under what name is it for." the clerk asks. It is not someone I recognize.
"Chris Burton. I reserved a copy of the new Jasper Fforde 'Thursday Next' novel coming out Tuesday. However, I will be out of town then, and I just wanted to make sure that you would hold it for me until I can come back for it. I have already pre-paid for it."
She runs it through her computer as I wait, Sam nervously pacing through the new releases section.
"Here it is. Scheduled for next week. Fully paid. We can hold it for you for another week, no problem. My name is Teri if you have any questions upon pick-up." she replies.
"Thank you. I will be back to pick it up as soon as I can." I say to her as I walk back to Sam. "Want to look around a bit?"
"Not really. I don't read all that much," he all but whispers, ashamed almost at the fact.
"Suit yourself. Try not to get into trouble." He silently tails me as a check out a few magazines. I take a brief runaround the main sections, before coming back around to local interest to see how many of our books they have out--only seven, but with multiple copies of most. I pay for the two magazines and the maps I got from travel, and we are on our way.
"We'll be back at my place soon. I need to warn you though. It might not be what you are expecting." I leave him stunned as we drive off to home.
Tuesday, July 3, 2018
Dada: Chapter Five
"Target?! Why are we going to Target? I can see a mall just across the road." Sam grumbled. At least his voice was a little louder and deeper than it was at work.
"Actually, I think that is designated as a street. And we will be going there, after we pick up a few essentials, here. You don't want to be seen walking around the mall the way you're looking now, do you?" I answer.
"But why Target?" Sam spoke softly again, as if he was afraid to be here as we were walking to the entrance.
"You are going through a growth spurt. Best to get you something cheaper, just in case you can't wear for long. If we got you something the fits, you could outgrow it within a few weeks. If you got something a little big, and you've stopped growing, which I seriously doubt, it will look like you were wearing your fa... , hand-me-downs. You wouldn't like that. The right thing to do, then, is get you something that is just a little big, but inexpensive, just in case. Don't worry, we'll get you more regular stuff, later. Trust me, I've been through this."
A lot, actually. All through grade school, I was usually the tallest in class, by an inch. Sometimes more. By eighth grade, the other boys started to catch up, and surpass me. By the time I started high school, at 5' 1", I was just about the shortest boy in class. I grew another inch by Christmas break, and an inch-and-a-half by spring break, with almost two inches over the summer. I didn't have a real growth spurt until sophomore year. Grew almost four inches between Halloween and Thanksgiving. I grew so fast, that I had few options for clothes until Christmas. I pretty much got all clothes that year. Very sad.
I wheel him past the boys' department and head straight to men's.
"Why are we going to men's?" Sam whispers.
"At the rate you've grown, I think a men's small will fit you better than a boys' large, or bigger. You will probably get more wear-time out of it."
I quickly get him a shirt to try on. "By the way, what's the waist size of those pants? I guessing a 32 or so."
"I think it's a 28." Sam replies.
He's right. That kid is skinnier than I thought. I guess seeing him busting out of his pants made me get the wrong impression. I get him a pair of khaki cargo shorts in a 30 and lead him to the dressing rooms.
"I'll be right out here, picking up a few more things. Don't leave the area."
As he goes in, a quickly look around for a few more things for him. Some new underwear, a pair of athletic socks, and a few pairs of slip ons, approximately the right size. They might be too small. I'm a stickler for this time of thing ever since junior year. I was into sweaters at the time, and I really wanted this dark blue one. Unfortunately, they only had it in a large. It was too big for me, and they weren't able to order it back in a smaller size. I had to settle for a red one, that did fit me.
That February, my mom bought the blue sweater when it went on sale. She thought that I was going to grow some more. For some reason, she kept thinking I was going to be six feet tall. Until then, I was wearing so many layers under it that I was getting sick from being so hot. I wound up having to take my sweater off before lunch, most of the time.
My mom was right, though. I did grow some more. About a quarter-of-an-inch, perhaps a half inch. At just over 5' 9", I was still too short for it, even after I filled out. Fortunately, it was a mild winter my senior year, so I didn't get to wear it much. I ultimately gave it to one of my friends, Pete. At just under 6' 2", it barely fit him. He didn't even have to wear anything to make it look good. I gave a $40 or $45 sweater away. Wore it only a dozen times, at most. I stopped wearing sweaters after that fiasco.
"How do I look?" Sam asked as he came out of the dressing room.
"You look great." I was't lying. Sure the white tee was a little loose in the chest and shoulders, but the sleeves hung in the right places. The shorts stayed up without a belt, but didn't look tight. They hung a little below the knee, but he would fit right in at most place without too many looks.
"Come over here and try these on. This will be faster than getting you actual sneakers until later. Just so you can walk without pain."
I had guessed right on the first pair. About a size smaller than my own shoes. Sam is going to be huge.
Sam just sighed. "I can't wait. Are we done yet?"
"Just about. Get back into your old clothes (Sam practically shuddered when I mentioned that) and we'll pick up one last thing, and then it's off to the mall."
"Why can't I just wear them out?"
"I haven't paid for them yet. Now hurry up and get changed."
After Sam got back into his suit, we walk straight to the personal grooming aisle. While I have extras of most of things Sam will need (toothbrush, comb, etc.), I have to pick him up some deodorant. I let him pick out his favorite.
"When do we eat? I'm getting hungry." Sam whines as we near the check-out.
"At the mall. There used to be a diner here, but they turned it into a Starbucks in the last few months. I don't think it will have anything you'd like."
A short wait at the express lane, a few quick swipes, and we are off to the mall.
"Actually, I think that is designated as a street. And we will be going there, after we pick up a few essentials, here. You don't want to be seen walking around the mall the way you're looking now, do you?" I answer.
"But why Target?" Sam spoke softly again, as if he was afraid to be here as we were walking to the entrance.
"You are going through a growth spurt. Best to get you something cheaper, just in case you can't wear for long. If we got you something the fits, you could outgrow it within a few weeks. If you got something a little big, and you've stopped growing, which I seriously doubt, it will look like you were wearing your fa... , hand-me-downs. You wouldn't like that. The right thing to do, then, is get you something that is just a little big, but inexpensive, just in case. Don't worry, we'll get you more regular stuff, later. Trust me, I've been through this."
A lot, actually. All through grade school, I was usually the tallest in class, by an inch. Sometimes more. By eighth grade, the other boys started to catch up, and surpass me. By the time I started high school, at 5' 1", I was just about the shortest boy in class. I grew another inch by Christmas break, and an inch-and-a-half by spring break, with almost two inches over the summer. I didn't have a real growth spurt until sophomore year. Grew almost four inches between Halloween and Thanksgiving. I grew so fast, that I had few options for clothes until Christmas. I pretty much got all clothes that year. Very sad.
I wheel him past the boys' department and head straight to men's.
"Why are we going to men's?" Sam whispers.
"At the rate you've grown, I think a men's small will fit you better than a boys' large, or bigger. You will probably get more wear-time out of it."
I quickly get him a shirt to try on. "By the way, what's the waist size of those pants? I guessing a 32 or so."
"I think it's a 28." Sam replies.
He's right. That kid is skinnier than I thought. I guess seeing him busting out of his pants made me get the wrong impression. I get him a pair of khaki cargo shorts in a 30 and lead him to the dressing rooms.
"I'll be right out here, picking up a few more things. Don't leave the area."
As he goes in, a quickly look around for a few more things for him. Some new underwear, a pair of athletic socks, and a few pairs of slip ons, approximately the right size. They might be too small. I'm a stickler for this time of thing ever since junior year. I was into sweaters at the time, and I really wanted this dark blue one. Unfortunately, they only had it in a large. It was too big for me, and they weren't able to order it back in a smaller size. I had to settle for a red one, that did fit me.
That February, my mom bought the blue sweater when it went on sale. She thought that I was going to grow some more. For some reason, she kept thinking I was going to be six feet tall. Until then, I was wearing so many layers under it that I was getting sick from being so hot. I wound up having to take my sweater off before lunch, most of the time.
My mom was right, though. I did grow some more. About a quarter-of-an-inch, perhaps a half inch. At just over 5' 9", I was still too short for it, even after I filled out. Fortunately, it was a mild winter my senior year, so I didn't get to wear it much. I ultimately gave it to one of my friends, Pete. At just under 6' 2", it barely fit him. He didn't even have to wear anything to make it look good. I gave a $40 or $45 sweater away. Wore it only a dozen times, at most. I stopped wearing sweaters after that fiasco.
"How do I look?" Sam asked as he came out of the dressing room.
"You look great." I was't lying. Sure the white tee was a little loose in the chest and shoulders, but the sleeves hung in the right places. The shorts stayed up without a belt, but didn't look tight. They hung a little below the knee, but he would fit right in at most place without too many looks.
"Come over here and try these on. This will be faster than getting you actual sneakers until later. Just so you can walk without pain."
I had guessed right on the first pair. About a size smaller than my own shoes. Sam is going to be huge.
Sam just sighed. "I can't wait. Are we done yet?"
"Just about. Get back into your old clothes (Sam practically shuddered when I mentioned that) and we'll pick up one last thing, and then it's off to the mall."
"Why can't I just wear them out?"
"I haven't paid for them yet. Now hurry up and get changed."
After Sam got back into his suit, we walk straight to the personal grooming aisle. While I have extras of most of things Sam will need (toothbrush, comb, etc.), I have to pick him up some deodorant. I let him pick out his favorite.
"When do we eat? I'm getting hungry." Sam whines as we near the check-out.
"At the mall. There used to be a diner here, but they turned it into a Starbucks in the last few months. I don't think it will have anything you'd like."
A short wait at the express lane, a few quick swipes, and we are off to the mall.
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