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Image for the poem Follow your Dreams chapter 2

Follow your Dreams chapter 2

 
Follow your Dreams chapter 2


You know I am going to wait for this to clear, Mandy said, I am certain you are certifiable.

Thank you, Mandy, I said, handing her the check. She shook her head as she took it. Trust me, she can make better use of it than I can, I added seriously.

Are you sure you don't want to stick around? I'll buy you another drink, Mandy asked, with a smile, in a futile attempt at the rest of my wallet. I just laughed and shook my head. I felt really good when I left the Pleasure Palace for the last time. There were few times in my life when I was an actual help to someone. I could, at least look back at this event with a bit pride. Lucia had made me feel good, twice. I needed little miracles like that.

I suffered another migraine Thursday afternoon. This one cost me some time as I hid from the sun. I was working on stripping the old layers of paint off the wood siding in the morning. When the migraine finally subsided, I attacked the siding with more vigor. I really wanted to complete this house. I probably should have picked a smaller one, but this one had character. I knew in my mind what it would look like when it was done. The real estate agent didn't see it, but she had no vision.

Friday was a miraculous day. The inspector was on time and allowed the electrician to complete the connection to the grid. I shamefully yelled, "Let there be light," as I plugged in one of the few lamps I had. That glowing bulb was a beautiful sight. I ran to the kitchen and plugged in the little 'college dorm' refrigerator I had bought and heard its compressor hum. I screwed a bulb into the temporary socket in the ceiling and threw the switch. Blessed light filled the room. I flicked the switch on and off a few times, feeling way too much joy for such a trivial event. I could now work outside during the day and inside during the night. It was glorious.

Saturday morning I felt wonderful. I had only one side of the house left to scrape and I had power. I mounted a set of speakers in the window and plugged them into my phone. I set the app to random shuffle and 'Sultans of Swing' kicked up loud. My nearest neighbors were a quarter-mile down the road so it was my world with my sounds. I was singing along, poorly, while I went to work on the siding - this time with power tools. I have no idea how man survived in the past when electricity wasn't even a dream. I felt like a king, tearing into the layers of paint with mechanical speed.

I was finished with a quarter of the side and was moving the ladder when a red pickup pulled into my dirt driveway. I reached in the window and paused, 'Kayla.' Maybe my neighbors were closer than I thought. No one came out of the truck and the sun was glinting off the windshield so I couldn't see who was in it. I moved toward the vehicle, pulling the dust mask off my face and trying to beat some of the paint dust off my clothes.

I shouldn't have been surprised when Lucia stepped out of the driver's door, but I was. I really wasn't prepared to see her again. I stopped walking forward and just stared, trying to think about what I should say. Her black hair was tied in a pigtail with a few errant strands loose in front of her ears. Her expression was confused and must have looked something like mine. I guessed she didn't know what to say either. I decided to move forward again.

How did you find me? I asked to break the ice. I think I made it sound harder than I meant to.

I had breakfast at Rusti’s, Lucia answered. There are no secrets in a small town, not with people like Diana running about. Why did you do it? she asked with a small bit of difficulty. I stopped about twenty feet away. It felt like that was the appropriate space we needed. I began to feel a bit stupid since I really didn't have a good reason, at least not one that would make sense to her.

Sorry, it seemed like you needed it, I said softly. It sounded better in my mind than it did leaving my lips. Lucia put her hands on her hips and tried twice to say something, but did a better job than I had holding it in. She ended up just shaking her head.

It's a gift for you and Sophia, I somewhat pleaded, don't ask why. I was wishing Mandy was more of a bitch and had claimed it was from her. I just wasn't prepared to support my asinine decisions.

People don't do things like that! Lucia yelled. I felt her anger wash over me. It took me by surprise and I took a step back. I was never good at being yelled at. My defenses kicked in.

It made me feel good, I yelled back, until now! I finished with more venom than necessary. I regretted it as soon as I saw the change on Lucia's face. I thought she was about to cry, then she jumped back in her pickup and slammed the door. I took a few more steps back, for some reason I thought she intended to run me over. Instead, she drove off at an angry speed. I kicked myself for being an idiot just another reason to avoid people altogether.

I didn't turn the music back on as I returned to the siding. My happiness was gone and I needed time to brood. Luckily, I could take it out on the old paint. I moved the ladder, climbed to the top and immediately pulled too hard on the power cord. It separated from the extension cord which fell to the ground. I was seething and almost threw the sander.

Why did I pay off that infernal woman's debt? Why did I care if it pissed her off? I took a few deep breaths and climbed slowly down the ladder. I tied the two power cords together and then plugged the ends together. It would take more than a simple pull to separate them now. I then sat on my ass, in the grass, wondering why I was feeling like shit.

It was fifteen minutes before I climbed the ladder again. This time I turned the music on and let Clapton change my mood. The work helped and I began to forget how badly I felt. The old paint soaked up the brunt of my self-disgust. I murdered years of paint layers as viciously as I could. It wasn't long before I was at least humming to the music again. I hoped I hadn't made Lucia cry.

It took all morning to complete that side of the house. It looked much better than the other sides I had done manually. I was contemplating whether I should redo the manual sides with the power sander when the red pickup returned. My stomach did a flip flop and the morning pains returned with the vehicle. I promised myself to remain civil and just get it over with. I would let her scream at me so it would end and I could get on with the rest of my life, what little I had of it.

I paused, the music and moved toward the pickup with trepidation.

Lucia exited the truck with a picnic basket. Her eyes were red, but she was wearing a forced smile. I guessed she was finished yelling also. "I made you lunch," she said in an even tone. She was waiting for a response.

You don't owe me anything, I said stupidly. My mouth, once again, moved faster than my brain.

"Let me make you lunch," Lucia stammered, almost pleading. I saw the strain in her eyes. It was hurting her, my pretending that what I did didn't matter. My empathy kicked back at me.

Actually, I'm starving I said and added a smile. Anything in that basket had to be better than the can of spaghetti I had planned to heat up. Lucia's face brightened noticeably and so did my mood. We moved to the porch steps, the closest thing to furniture I had. This is my table right now at least until I get the kitchen done, I apologized.

It's lovely, Lucia lied. She spread out a small cloth on the porch and set out plates, silverware and two cups. She added a wrapped sandwich on each plate and pulled out a round plastic tray with fresh cut carrots, broccoli and cauliflower. A small dish in the center contained what looked like ranch dressing. Lucia absently dipped a carrot and tossed it into her mouth as she pulled out a bottle of white wine. She handed me the bottle and a corkscrew. I went to work as she pulled out two carryout trays from Rusti's. "Diana said you liked the pie," Lucia said, almost daring me to deny it.

"I love the pie," I responded happily, "and thank you for lunch." That got me a real smile. I worked at the cork as Lucia unwrapped, the sandwiches. They were chicken salad and I could smell it was freshly made. I was hungrier than I thought. The cork popped free and I was inwardly proud I didn't spill any in the struggle to get it out. I filled the two plastic cups and lightly reseated the cork in the bottle before I put it down.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Lucia said, looking at the picnic layout instead of me, "I was confused and I didn't know what to say and it just came out."

I yelled back, so we're even, I replied, trying to smooth the waters. I was never a good smoother. She took my comment well and looked at me with more comfort in her eyes.

"Mama told me not to come out here, to just pretend I won the lottery," Lucia continued. I loved how she said 'Mama.'

Her accent was very slight, but it came out more clearly when she used that word. I tried to stop myself and I couldn't. I was angry with myself because I didn't know what to say when I got here. You gave me all that money and tried to tell me it doesn't matter - I just went a little crazy. I didn't want to talk about the money again. It was done in my mind I was hoping she would let it go.


To be coninued
Written by nutbuster (D C)
Published
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