Friday

There were some things that happened Thursday night, but I don't have them typed up yet. In its stead, we have the events of Friday, during the day.

At 9am, grandma is up. I make her coffee, and we chat.
Chatting with grandma mostly involves listening to her tell a story about the past. Most of these stories take place in 1919 or 1920, but the content varies. I think the stories are mostly true, but she’s just lost track of when the occurred. Her favorites seem to be the one about hippies and one about living in Russia.
I call the A/C company that Anna recommended. They confirm the info, ask what I think the problem may be, and so forth. They say they’ll call when they’re coming out.
We head out to the front porch to hang out. She says, “You got to have great willpower to do right things. Wrong things can be done any idiot.” It starts to rain, and grandma starts gossiping about the neighbors. Grandma thinks Mishka is at the school. I hear some noises in the back, and figure that Mars is up. From where I’m sitting, I can’t see what he’s doing.
Two minutes later, Mar’s car starts and grandma jumps.
“The car! The car! Thief!”
“No, grandma, that’s Mars.”
A moment’s disbelief, and then “That coward! He is scared of facing me!”
I tell her that he actually doesn’t want to talk to me, but she reasserts the uselessness of Ilmars. And yeah, of course Ilmars doesn’t want to see me. I’m here to upset the balance of his life. The fact that I am here testifies to his inability to keep everything on the up-and-up. Fight or flight. Some people, faced with an affront like this to their authority, will man up and try to take control. Fight back. To reassert themselves. Ilmars doesn’t seem to want to fight any more. It’s just after 10 in the morning.
Grandma starts into a new story about a synagogue and pigs, and that segues into a story about going back to Latvia with her mother. And her 40 chickens.
The mail comes. The only thing that’s relevant is Dad’s car insurance. I decide to take care of this. It’s not a big thing, but it is a bite-size task.
We have a little lunch, and I call the insurance company to see what I need to do to cancel it. They say I should bring over the death certificate.
After lunch, I go and take care of it. They’re polite, and say they’ll send a check for the remainder. On the way back, I detour down Seacrest boulevard. It’s the closest little strip to the house, and it’s full of bars and restaurants. That’s why I’m here, actually. Not to go in, but to see where uncle is. His car is sitting on the cross street closest to Danny’s, as expected. Danny’s is the kind of place where you go in at 9:30 on a weekday, it’s packed with old alcoholics. Mars fits right in
His car is easy to spot, with a halo of oxidized steel highlighting the rear wheels. This was almost doubtlessly where he was last night, until they closed.
Coming back home, Anna is bringing lunch for grandma and is very pleasant. Anna tries to spend some time with Grandma every day, but she won’t come over when Mars is here. She brings lunch for grandma, cleans up the kitchen, and listens to the stories. Grandma calls her an Angel, and she’s right to do so.
I go to start up the mower. There’s not much grass, but some of the weeds are getting pretty high. The mower seems in good condition. The starter cord pulls smoothly, and the engine turns. Oil level - it’s good. Gas level – bone dry. I jump in the car and am off to the Exxon. I get two gallons of gas, and stop by the ICEE machine. It’s broken. The soda fountain, also broken. Sometimes things work and sometimes they don’t.
The mower starts with little effort once there’s gas. It’s set to cut very short, but it works. Back and forth. Back and forth. The lack of grass means little resistance, and it doesn’t take long.
Anna heads home and grandma starts telling me to strip and take a shower. Oh, grandma.
She goes back to the story about escaping Russia, saying “If you don’t own nothing to you, you leaving everything behind, nothing belongs to you. What you can carry on your shoulders. We take blankets. Overcoats we take.”
Eventually, the A/C guys shows up. Turns out the master switch was turned off, and he quickly gets it back up and running. He also checks the furnace, the charge level, and some other maintenance things. The heater unit in the place is original, surely as old as the house.
Grandma tells me to go find Mishka.