by Kenneth M. Kapp
Sam was doing his best to exercise more. If he went shopping, he’d go in the morning and park the car at the far end of the store’s lot. If he had only a couple of bags of groceries, he’d leave the car on the street instead of pulling into his driveway. Then he’d carry the packages in, making two or three trips if necessary. And after supper, if the weather were nice, he’d take a short walk. But there was a caveat, as he explained to the kitchen table, “Nice is relative, it doesn’t have to be pouring rain for me to not walk.”
The table did its best to keep him from getting seconds by putting a leg in his way. Once it even grumbled when he pushed it back with too much force. “Hey, big fella, go easy on the shoving.” Then quipped when he butted it back, “You know about Morton Salt? When it rains, it pours. So, a little drizzle shouldn’t stop you from taking a walk.”
It was Sunday noon, and Sam was washing the dishes that had accumulated in the dishpan. The water was piping hot, and he scalded his hand. “Damm, why didn’t you speak up. Stupid way of hinting, hitting me with hot water. I’ll walk when I want to! Exercise must be age appropriate. Jeez. And for all I care, these dishes can sit here and soak overnight.”
He shoved the dishpan away. Trapped air bubbles escaped from a two-day old dish of half-eaten cabbage buried under another plate, releasing a raunchy smell. He waved his hand. “Damm, that was crude! Now I need to take a walk or at least get out of the kitchen!”
Muttering that it was hard to get respect nowadays, he went out the side door and, not seeing his car in the driveway, groaned that he might as well move it from the street after his walk rather than tonight. You don’t have any plans other than watching the mystery on PBS. He was going to go straight to the car but, recalling how the table had been giving him grief, decided to walk around the block and come up on his car from behind. Get yourself a fedora and a trench coat and you can start a new career. “Sam, the Sleuth,” they’ll be calling you.
The blocks weren’t long and, meeting no one, he didn’t stop. But he was a slow walker, and it took twenty minutes to circle the block. He slammed the car door, slouched, and pulled into the driveway. Trying for a Bogart accent, he grumbled, “Way to go there, Sam, you remembered your car. Got it right the second time. No way does your Honda look like a Chevy.”
He unlocked the side door, looked over his shoulder, and, folding his fingers, muttered, “One: it was cloudy; two: I wasn’t paying much attention; three: the streetlight was still on and buzzing like a bee; and four: it’s age appropriate and I don’t give a flying.” He slammed the door shut.
He was going to make a cup of hot chocolate but changed his mind after this last adventure. Scotch and water, a righteous glass, two ice cubes, and you can retrieve your mystery from the bathroom. You’ll be able to finish it tonight.
Five minutes later Sam was sitting in the wingchair, his legs wrapped in an Afghan on the footstool. He took a sip of scotch and then exchanged the tumbler for his reading glasses on the end table. He laughed; in the old days he could never find his glasses. Problem solved and all it took were four pairs of glasses: one here on the end table, one in the den next to the PC, a third on the nightstand. Hmm, I know I’ve fourth somewhere. Yeh, the fourth next to the phone in the kitchen. He didn’t count the old pair left in the glove compartment of the car.
Sam put on his glasses and scrunched around, settling into the chair. He opened the book, looked blankly at the page, did his best to recall the plot, and closed it. I remember Mom had the same problem with her glasses. Nothing helped. She had a dozen pairs always moving from one place to another. I told her she should just make sure to leave them in the same place in each room. She didn’t think it was funny when I suggested taping a big red X in each room and making sure to cover her XX’s with her glasses just like she crosses her T’s.
He exchanged his own glasses for the tumbler and took another healthy sip. Damn, there goes the couch winking at me again.
“What do you expect, Sam? You a dummy or something? There’s no one else in the room!”
“Dummy yourself, buddy. I’m going to take a nap, and I don’t want another word out of you.” He slid his legs off the footstool and stretched. A little nap on Sunday afternoon is just what the doctor ordered. He fetched another blanket from the basket in the corner, rearranged the cushions on the couch, and returned for the small throws squashed in the corners of the wingchair.
The couch rolled its eyes, about to say it was too close to bedtime to take a nap, but decided to zip it, muttering, “Suit yourself buddy, but the zipper on the big pillow needs some closing. You know, when you get around to it.” His sarcasm dropped unheard under the cushion where it kept company with two pennies and a nickel that had been there from the last time Sam had company. Which is to say, years ago.
“Ah, just a catnap then, whatever that is.” He reminded the couch to keep its mouth squirmed into his favorite sleeping position on his side, one small pillow under his head, the other between his knees.
The couch smiled when Sam closed his eyes. It had promised not to complain but no promise had been made about feeding him dreams. So maybe it’s time to remind Sam about his home run and how his mother pretended to be asleep here when he came in from playing stickball in the driveway between the houses.
The floor lamp dropped an aside to the coffee table. “You know, late, late afternoon naps are really a way to go to bed early.”
“Endurably, mate. Watch out how Sam wakes in two hours when it’s pitch black in here. He’ll stretch, make a show of how good it was to nap. Look out the front window – see how dark it is, especially since the streetlights are out again – and say how grand it is to nap in the afternoon. Bet he stumbles before he can turn you on.”
The lamp didn’t enlighten the coffee table. He’d leave him in the dark. Serve him right for putting on the airs of an English gentleman solely based on the Old English furniture polish that had glistened on its surface decades ago. “Indubitably” was the word he really wanted!
Sam closed his eyes and was soon asleep, his last waking thoughts about how exercise tires you out and was it worth it.
He was a kid again. Up at bat against Lenny G, one of the toughest pitchers on the block. Lenny threw two fast ones, Sam swung and missed both times. Lenny really pumped it on his third windup, but Sam was on to his tricks, Robby had warned him, “Watch out for his changeup.” Sam smiled, held back, and when the ball drifted into range, he tagged it – high and long. He dropped the broomstick and took off. He needed to run across the street, tag the far curb, and beat the throw back to home plate for a home run. It was a double out if you were hit by the ball while running.
Sam had cleared the alley when he heard a screech. Enough time to put his hands on the oncoming car’s hood and bounce five feet into the air. Damn, he was mad! He got up, continued his run across the street and back to home plate before Lenny even caught the ball from the outfielder.
Lenny was a sport. “You freaked the driver good. He got out of his car, did a quick walkaround looking for blood, and as soon as Harry shot the ball back at me, he took off. He ain’t driving down this street anytime soon! Just for that, I’ll agree you had a man on first. Two-run homer. Way to go, Sam.”
Sam wiggled, adjusting his shoulder.
Now the couch broke his promise and whispered, “You know your mom heard that screech and ran in here. She peeked out the bay window and the car was still there, guy outside looking under the car. She almost fainted, white as a ghost. Made it to me in time then out like a light, Freddie will vouch for me. She was sleeping here when you came in, remember?”
Freddie, the floor lamp, flickered. There were advantages in having loose wires.
Sam squirmed and woke with a start. Something about his mother. He swung his feet to the floor, announced to all, “I have to pee.” and took off for the bathroom.