Love You to Pieces

“Jesus Christ it’s cold out here”, I said to know one in particular. My companions were in no position to hear me hence I really didn’t expect them to respond. I stopped digging for a moment to warm my hands, they were beginning to feel like a couple of frozen steaks, at least I couldn’t feel the blisters that had formed and then popped in a brief flood of warm fluid. I couldn’t see well enough in the darkness, but I was quite sure they had started bleeding shortly thereafter. I reached into the pocket of my jacket and lit a cigarette, it took forever to get my lighter to work, it must have gotten wet. Naturally it had to be raining, that cold, dreary October rain that chills you all the way through the skeleton. I’d be damn lucky not to have pneumonia when this job was finished.

“Hey will you stop fuckin’ around and finish up for God’s sake I’m gettin’ wet out here.” I could swear I heard my wife Tina’s voice from somewhere in the vicinity, must have been the wind.

“It’s a little hard to dig in the goddamn rain,” I found myself shouting in response. “Not to mention its a little dark out here.”

I realized I probably shouldn’t be yelling and quickly scanned the area. Just the trees, there bony arms clung hopelessly to their remaining leaves. In the distance I could see the back of my in-laws’ house, hopefully the baby was still asleep. I wiped my watch on my sweatshirt and figured it to be about one A.M. With no light the glow in the dark hands were giving up the ghost. I would have to check in on him in a few minutes, he usually got a little hungry around two.

I resumed digging, the blade of the shovel piercing the soft earth. I really would have thought the wet ground would be easier to dig but it was worse. With each shovel full of dirt, half of the load would slosh back into the hole. I found myself standing in a hell of a mess as the hole got deeper. At least I didn’t have far to go, another foot or so would do it.

The day had begun like so many others, with a six o’clock knee in the back.

“Get up and get the baby a bottle”, Tina bellowed as she pulled the blankets over her head. “And make me some coffee.”

With that I quickly rose, fed the baby, made her coffee. I even fed that ridiculous poodle, Fifi before leaving for work. I was twenty minutes into my forty minute commute and thoroughly enjoying the silence when the cell phone rang.

“Hi, Doug, it’s Carol.”

Carol is my mother in law, although most of the time she and Tina are more like twin sisters, that is to say they seem to share two halves of the same brain. They’re also both short, stout brunettes more willing to dish out shit than take any.

“Hi Ma” I replied as I narrowly avoided the semi that failed to realize I was currently in the lane he wanted. “What can I do for ya?” I hoped it would be something simple. “I just spoke to Tina and we decided tonight would be a good time for you to come over and dig out the trench around the pond. The hurricanes have made a real mess out back in the woods and obviously we don’t want the water getting up to the house. Unfortunately your father in-law can’t do it alone.”

“Listen, Carol, I’m sure it will be fine. The pond is a couple of hundred yards from the house and I have some homework to finish for class and a meeting. . .”

She couldn’t resist cutting me off, “Doug you know they’re calling for more rain this week and October is always a wet month anyway. Your family is your responsibility now and if you’re not finished school at this point in your life you’re just wasting everybody’s time and money, you’re thirty six for Christ’s sake. I’ll see you right after work.”

The phone went dead in my hand. “What the fuck?” I mumbled as I glanced at the GPS transponder mounted on the dash.

Tina had insisted on retrofitting the car with one so she could keep tabs on me, ostensibly for the purpose of tracking my fuel consumption. Just for kicks I decided today was a good day to get off of I95 one exit early. My cell rang about thirty seconds later.

“Where are you going?” Tina barked in my ear.

“Good morning Ho. How’s your morning so far?” I figured I would try to be nice.

“Well since you asked, the dog shit on the floor, and your demon-spawn son threw his breakfast on the floor. It’ll be here for you to clean up when you get home.”

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, “Do you think it’s a good idea to leave it on the floor? What if the baby tries to eat it?”

Little “D” was at the stage where everything went in his mouth with the notable exception of his food. At least he looked like me with the dark hair and light eyes. Hopefully he wouldn’t end up with my stocky physique.

“With the money you make I guess he’d better get used to it, huh? And don’t try to change the subject. Why did you get off at exit three? You know the most efficient route is to take exit four to Rt. 31. We don’t own an oil company you know.”

I could just picture her with her filthy Snoopy slippers propped up on the kitchen table. I wondered what kind of adult feels the need to wear such a thing.

“I needed a pack of smokes, you didn’t leave me any this. . .”

“I LEFT YOU TWO CIGARETTES!” She roared into the phone it was so loud the tiny speaker distorted in a cry for mercy. “We agreed you were going to quit.”

At this point she up-shifted into overdrive, “And I don’t appreciate you giving my mother an attitude, they don’t ask for help very often, so when you get home I want you to clean up this shit, get changed and get your fat ass over there to help. Got it? Goodbye.”

Mercifully she hung up on me. I swung into the Quick Check parking lot. I hated to spend the money to buy butts in Jersey, I really did, but what can ya do? When you’re out you’re out, I bought a carton. Fuck it.

“I’m freezing my ass off” I whisper to myself.

I look down and realize my hole is probably four or five feet deep and pretty damn uniform if I do say so myself, and since no one else is talkin’ I guess that’s the bottom line, more or less. A quick glance at my watch tells me nothing, to dark. I figure I better go up and check on the baby. Just getting out of the hole is a chore and for a moment, as the wall begins to crumble in my hands, I wonder if I’m gonna be buried alive out here. Probably wouldn’t be that bad of a deal, but eventually I do get out. Making my way up the muddied path, the trees are reaching out, occasionally slapping me with their bony fingers the cobwebs caress my face, man I really hope those webs are vacant.

At long last I make it through to the patio out back with its multiple levels and hand laid stone, and glance up at the bedroom window. Little “D” loves to look out the blinds. At two years old he is infinitely curious as to the goings on out- doors. Nothing, he must still be asleep. Good. I make up a quick bottle. Sloshing through the house I make no effort to clean off my feet, in fact I ‘m taking a real pleasure in seeing my footprints, black as ink on the beige carpet. Carol was a compulsive cleaner. “Clean that ya rotten bitch.” I have to chuckle at the sound of my voice in the silence, it sounds oddly like someone else’s.

From the time he was an infant Little”D” had an odd way about him. We said he was an “old soul” because he would give us these little looks that seemed to say he had seen it all before. It was rather strange, to tell the truth. He rarely slept and when he did, just putting a blanket over him would cause him to sit up instantly, completely aware of your presence, no disorientation whatsoever. As I approached his room I peeked in through the door which was always left ajar.

“Ha da” he said through the darkness.

There was no way he could have seen me but as I peered in through the doorway I saw his tiny head staring right at me.

“Hey little guy, you’re supposed to be asleep.” I placed the bottle in the crib, “goodnight son, I’ll see you in the morning.”

I kissed the top of his head and turned to leave, I glanced back over my shoulder to see him looking back, a half grin on his face. “Ga Da” he mumbled past the bottle and lay back down. I went out to the garage to check on my bundles, I had a duffle bag and two throw rugs to take care of. I grabbed the duffle, choosing it because of the handle, and started back through the woods. A quick glimpse over my shoulder confirmed my suspicion, Little ”D” was staring out the window, the porch light illuminating his face like a maniacal jack o’ lantern. I reached the hole and went back for the carpets. I arrived with the last of my luggage, so to speak, plopped to the ground and lit a smoke. I leaned back against a tree stump, the leaf of a nearby shrub licking my ear, much like our family dog would sometimes do. My heart was beating so hard it seemed like I could actually hear it, like the drums in a jungle movie, I wanted to doze but there was no time, I was already running late.

“You’re late.” The minute I arrived home it started. “You should have been here fifteen minutes ago.” She was pacing around the garage like a caged animal.

“There was traffic, you know traffic, when the road is occupied by too many cars the result is traffic.”

I was disgusted, work had sucked, and I really didn’t feel like listening to any more of this.

“Well you need to go upstairs and get the baby then we’re gonna go.”

I continued toward the door that connects to the family room. I noticed the handle of my floor jack lying on the concrete and paused to pick it up, I placed it on top of my shoulder.

“You don’t have time to play with your tools, you play with your tools all day, probably fucking up everybody else’s cars I’m sure.”

She was chasing me to the door, bellowing all the way. I stopped, feeling a slight pressure in my hand as she ran into me, followed very slowly by a thud. I looked around to see her sitting on the floor holding her head; she really didn’t look a bit out of place on the greasy garage floor. I was amazed for just a split second at the silence as she sat holding her head. I liked it, and I wanted more. Peace and quiet were just around the corner when Fifi began gnawing at my calf and growling incessantly, so I had to quiet him as well. A jack handle is a damn versatile tool, anywhere you need it, it will provide leverage. Up and down, a simple motion when you think about it, but you can’t argue with results. Enjoying the quiet as I was, I disassembled the malfunctioning members of the household; an easy job really when you have the right tools, an air saw here a pry bar there and viola. I packed everything into the duffle bag and grabbed the baby. Then I drove over to the in-laws. Silently little “D” grinned in the rearview.

I let myself into the garage and grabbed a shovel off the wall. They must have been waiting for me because my father in-law appeared instantaneously in a black suit.

“Hey Doug,” he extended his hand. “Glad you could make it. Listen I’m sorry I won’t be able to help you out there but Carol forgot we’re going to the symphony tonight, I hope. . . “ THWACK. a nice metallic thud. He must have been surprised, he sure looked it, all wide eyed and unblinking. I caught Carol at her dressing table; I used the cord from her hair dryer to quiet her. I rolled them up in carpets. Then I started digging.

I squatted down to smooth the last of the dirt by hand, relishing the quiet, only the patter of the rain on the leaves and the sound of my hand on the mud to break the utter silence. It’ll be at least a week before anybody misses them, I figured, hell it might even be longer. Nobody likes them. I went up to get some sleep; I really couldn’t see a reason to go home. I paused just a moment to check on my son, not surprisingly he was staring right back at me.

“Goodad” he smiled.

“Good night son.”

It’s the funniest thing,, I swear I could feel him staring at me through the wall.