Dada: Chapter Thirteen

    "So, how bad is the bathroom?"
    "What?" Sam pipes up.  "What are you talking about?"
     We are still standing on the narrow porch, just in front of the door, as Carol pulls out onto the street.
      "You ran right past her just as soon as she unlocked the door.  Considering how big a stink you made in the car, you had to have something going on down there.  I just want to know if I have to clean anytime up."
       Sam takes a few seconds before answering.  "It felt worse than it was, or smelt.  I'm sorry for the car, but sometimes you can't help it."
      "Come on, let's get the rest of the bags."
      The porch isn't that long.  There's not even any furniture.  Only one slight step down to the driveway.   It doesn't even reach the windows.  It doesn't fit the rest of the house.  Maybe it added later, or changed for some reason.  Nothing here makes much sense.
      "By the way, should I leave thecae here, or park closer to the street?"
      "You could pull up next to the garage.  That's where Dad keeps his car, but there's probably no room for yours in there," Sam replies.  "It's just up the other driveway."  He points to the right, behind the car.
      I don't know how I missed it before, must have been more concerned getting to the appointment on time.  The driveway splits just past the the turn to the front.  I walk around to look back at the building.  From the street, I thought the garage was just a shed.  It is so small, there's definitely not enough room for a second car in there.  In fact, this section of the drive is patched with weeds, as if it it rarely used.  The garage doesn't match the house, either. Too small, too far back from the street, too far away from the house.  The fence from the pool and patio prevents anyone from getting to the house from the front.  It looks like there's a door on the side one could use to get to the house, but it skirts close to the pool.  That's a long walk, but still closer than walking through the house to get to the kitchen.
     "I guess I'll leave it here, for now," I call out to Sam as I look inside the garage.  There's just enough light to see an older style of car, maybe a Cadillac, I'm not good at cars.  Has to be at least twenty years old.  Maybe forty?  Great shape, from what I can see.  Doesn't get driven often.
    Sam already has the last of the bags out, waiting for me.  He hands me my suitcases, while holding on to his small tote.  I lock the car doors remotely as we walk back to the door.
    "I can show you the where to put those upstairs.  We have plenty or extra rooms."
    "Not yet, I want to look around a bit first," I reply while dropping my bags down just inside the entry.  "But first, I want to get something to eat."  To my right is the closed door to the library and the left side of the house.  In front of me, there is the stairway.  A little narrower than I expected, with a sharp turn to the right fairly high up.  A door is under the turn, no idea where it goes.  To the right, the living room and the path we already took.  I guess we go that way back to the kitchen.
    "I guess I'm hungry too," Sam says, a growl coming from his stomach.  I hope that doesn't mean he has to use the bathroom again.