Fall in the Little Village By the Bay. The changing color brings out the contours of the hills across the bay and the nighttime chill is profound. Photo Socotra.
For there’s a change in the weather
There’s a change in the sea
So, from now on,
There’ll be a change in me.
My walk will be diff’rent
My talk and my name
Nothin’ about me
Is goin’ to be the same,
I’m goin’ to change my way of livin’
And if that ain’t enough,
Then I’ll change the way
That I strut my stuff,
‘Ccause nobody wants you
When you’re old and gray
Ther’ll be some change made.
-Benny Goodman
It is Saturday AM here and the house is slowly coming awake. It actually has more than one of us in it for a change. Refreshing. I was being sucked into the fog at Potemkin Village. It is great to talk to another grownup after nearly a week.
My brother Spike didn’t have an easy trip to get here from Arizona. He called on the cell to announce his position somewhere near Wolverine, inbound to the Little Village By the Bay. I was startled: “How the hell did you get here so early?”
“Left last night around 11:00 PM. Got to Detroit early this morning and rented a car. I should be there in a few minutes.”
Good God, I thought. He did the Red Eye with the kick-ass of the four-hour drive at the end of it. I was pleased I had pushed the vacuum cleaner around already, and the place did not look bad. Then I glanced out the front window and saw Spike talking to Nancy-the-neighbor.
I walked out and shook his hand. He looked great- silver haired now, but slim and fit.
“Hi, Nancy!” I said. “Spike, you look great!”
“Who would have thought I would start running marathons when I was almost 58,” he said with a grin.
“Wish I could say the same,” I grimaced. “Too many miles on the knees and I can barely walk these days. Should have waited until now.”
“Welcome back,” said Nancy, with a smile, “Let me know if there is anything you need while you are here.”
“Nice to see you, Nancy,” I said. “I have not run the lawn mower over your ornamental grasses in months. And thanks for keeping an eye on he place. You will be seeing cars in the driveway for the next week or two. Come on in, Spike!”
We walked in through the rehabilitated laundry room. “They did a nice job, don’t you think? I like this place.”
“Sure did. Annook pulled it off really well.”
“The only thing that scares me is the money thing. We go negative big time once we get Raven locked up.”
I sat down at the computer on the kitchen table as Spike went to powder his nose.
“You got the guest bedroom?” He called from the depths of the house.
“Yeah, I picked the one that isn’t haunted. I can move, though.”
“Nah,” he called. “Don’t bother. Do you know if we got a new mattress in the master suite?”
“I think it is all clean,” I said. “But I don’t know.” I was pretty sure that the only fate for the mattress that Raven and Big Mama share now is incineration.
I glanced at the weather report my pal in Colorado sent. He follows the climate battle pretty closely, and he wrote that he was expecting the third snowfall of the season on the mountain where he lives.
“Damn,” I muttered. The coming snow is going to make getting to Michigan even more of a pain. My pal wrote:
“Accuweather expects a typical la Nina winter, meaning that it will be dry and fairly mild in southern Colorado east of the Rockies, but with “cold shots.” Those would be like the two sub-zero episodes we had during last year’s la Nina winter.”
“Joe Bastardi of Weatherbell (whose full product I can’t afford) says the second of two la Nina winters is colder than the first. There is also a NOAA report projecting that this la Nina will be stronger than the last – indeed possibly stronger than any since 1917.”
Spike walked back into the kitchen and slid into a chair across from me at the circular dining table where I camp out.
“They say this is going to be a bitch of a winter,” I said, waving at the screen on my MacBook., “Up here we are going to be affected by the wild card of the Arctic Oscillation. It is hard to predict, but if it is in its negative phase, your place in Arizona will be much colder. It will be the deep freeze here.”
“The Farmer’s Almanac says the Northern tier states are going to have a rough winter in any event. You may want to think twice about driving up here.”
“I am still committed to coming up for Thanksgiving, I said. “Annook can’t get clear of her movie gig until December.” I frowned. “That is, if I ever get out of here. How long can you stay?”
“My ticket is for Sunday night.”
“Crap. The Doctor’s appointment is Tuesday.”
“I can change,” he said, looking dubious. “I have a phone consultation, but I could manage that from here.”
The cell phone went off on the counter across the kitchen where it was plugged into the charger. I got up and walked over and looked at a local number I did not recognize. I punched the screen.
“Socotra,” I said. It was Mary-With-Four-Inch-Heels at The Bluffs.
“Can you have your father ready at ten on Tuesday?” she asked.
“Sure. We should take him to Doc B’s office at the hospital?”
“No,” she said. “You can just bring him to The Bluffs.” I looked over at my brother and mouthed “Jesus.”
“So we will actually admit him on Tuesday?” I said.
“Yes. Just bring his insurance card and the power of attorney and we will do the paperwork then.”
“Can do,” I said. “And a toothbrush, right?”
Mary laughed and told me she would see us on Tuesday.
I looked over at my brother. “You gotta stay, Man. We are going to lock him up at ten sharp next Tuesday.”
“We will do what we gotta do, I guess.”
I looked over at the clock. “Hey, time to get over there for lunch,” I said. He left his bag in the laundry room and we trooped out to his piece-of-crap Camry rental.
“We may as well break it to her together.”
“Works for me,” I said as we drove up the big hill past the old Victory Lanes bowling alley that the local band of Odawa Indians turned into their first casino. “With Tuesday set as the day of admission, we are in good shape if you can stay. I thought he had to go to the Hospital for a chest X-ray and some other formalities, and I would be stuck here until the week after this.”
“I will stay through Tuesday afternoon,” said Spike. “ With a couple hours of paperwork, Raven will be in the Back Room. I will get a flight out of Detroit that evening.”
“I will stay through Thursday, then, and see if everything is stable,” I said contemplatively. “Then I can start back and make DC by Friday afternoon before rush hour.”
“It is a plan,” said Spike.
“Weather permitting, of course.”
Brother Spike Socotra in the Challenged Dining Room at Potemkin Village. We broke the news to Big Mama about Raven's Big Trip. She expressed passing interest. Photo Socotra
Copyright 2011 Vic Socotra
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