What made Dr. Bliss' eyes widen more than anything how casually Curly dropped that particular nugget of knowledge. Looking up at her charge and the neutral demeanor he possessed, something uneasy began to foment within the bowels of her stomach. There was no hint of sorrow, or wrath toward some higher power in his voice, but rather the same dry and mundane factuality one has when being asked to read from a textbook.
"I remember that phone call all too well. Mom picked it up." Curly continued. "The shift in her demeanor went from 'night' to 'day' as the caller revealed himself to be a doctor from the Drymon Medical Clinic…"
["Hello…yes this is she…he WHAT?!...Is he at least…ok…wait…Move. To Hillwood?...Look, we're in Oregon, surely…(pulls away from the phone) damn you Wanda you selfish Bitch…No! No not you just family drama…Look, it's not like Oregon is starving for quality medical care…Right, his affairs and…(groans)…Fine. I'll talk more with my husband because it's not like I have a family to deal with either…Hell yeah it's an inconvenience!...(pulls away from the phone) ugh! That ********* will of his…well, I guess there's not much I can do…yes, it's going to be onerous, but he's still my dad and all. It's not like my other sister can drop everything to…(hums a little tune)…yes. Yes. I will. Goodbye."]
Curly: [To my mother's ignorance, I watched it all from behind the threshold of the kitchen. Even the torrent of expletives and pillow punching that followed as she harrumphed into the family room and whomped that poor pillow like it owed her money. Once she was calmer, she called dad and let him know that their life in Bohemia had come to an end, and all of us were to return back to her childhood town of Hillwood.]
"That must have been very upsetting, especially given how you were getting ready for school." Dr. Bliss said.
"I mean, I felt all the typical feelings of moving that a kid does." Curly replied as he laid again on the couch. "Uncertainty, powerlessness, loss of identity, fear of the unknown. Nothing out of the ordinary-"
"And yet, up to this point you haven't exactly painted your parents in the most positive of lights." Dr. Bliss continued. "I can understand moving can be stressful but for that to be the reason for all this anger towards them-"
"Well, this wasn't that moment!" Curly snapped back. "But it was the first step on a long path to where we are today…"
"Ok…" the doctor replied flipping to a fresh page in her notebook. "Tell me a bit about your grandfather and his impact."
"Nobody really talked about him much." Curly said. "I mean, I knew he existed on paper. But paper isn't 'alive' is it? It's two dimensional and exists solely to convey preexisting information. Sure, in the right hands, that information can somehow touch the human spirit, but more often than not, we just regurgitate a lifeless recreation of everything that came before hand; be it extended branches on the family tree or a recreation of dear Ol' Hoppy's painting over there."
"Ol' Hoppy?"
Curly jerks his thumb toward the rear wall for emphasis. Dr. Bliss follows his thumb to the recreation of Nighthawks hung near the bookcase in her office.
"You're into Edward Hopper too." She remarked.
"Eh." He said with a dismissive shrug. "I just know the piece. Nighthawks. American Realism. Painted in January of 1942 and sold to the Art Institute of Chicago on May 13th of that year."
"Wow." Dr. Bliss replied. "I didn't know you had quite the flair for art."
"I've secretly dabbled in drawing here and there, but I only know it because that was the closest we had to a photo of Grandpa Thad. Like I said before, nobody talked about him; he worked at an ice cream parlor and lived in Hillwood WA, end of story. Everything else was a blank space."
"Oh dear." Dr. Bliss said turning back to her notebook. "That must have been an interesting drive over, having to fill in all those blanks."
"Every kid gets four grandparents in some manner; two from mom, two from dad." Curly began. "As much as mom and dad act like they were beamed down from space, the reality is that your parents gave you life, and by extension, someone had to give them life. Dad's parents bought the eight-by-six farm before I was born, leaving Thaddeus and Mildred Sherb. But even then, she and Grandpa called their marriage quits long ago, and Grandpa lived in Washington State while we lived in Oregon. But then came the stroke…that damn stroke that bought the whole house of cards crashing down…"
[Once again, a 'For Sale' sign dotted the front lawn of 13 Futterman Ave. Only this time, Lawrence and Monica stared crestfallenly at the domicile they once called theirs as they helped the movers haul their earthly possessions out the front door and into the large truck clogging the cul-de-sac like a glob of fat in an artery. Before long, the two of them with Curly in tow fastened their seatbelts and watched the domicile fade away in the rearview mirror and disappear altogether.]
Curly: [Grandpa made it clear that if he was to die. It would be in Hillwood, WA. He came into the world here, why should departing be any different? He also made it clear that he'd rather eat fiberglass than be shoved in a nursing home or senior center like 'some helpless bag of meat who needs a greenhorn nurse to wipe his nether regions.' And because my Aunt went AWOL, taking care of Grandpa Thad in the twilight of his life became a family affair...our family. And for the ride over, I got a crash course in the grandpa who up to now only existed via a copy of Nighthawks. He got out of serving in WWII because of a stigmatism, but ran numerous scrap collection drives in Hillwood. After the war, he opened an ice cream parlor (again, no breaking news there). But what I didn't know before was that the parlor was originally a venture undertaken by him and Sam Slausen once both men were honorably discharged. But the two of them worked as well together as Glycerol and Nitric Acid…except more volatile.]
"Any reason as to why?"
"Because unlike his ex-partner, Grandpa Thad put the 'Jerk' in soda jerk. Yet despite his tyrannous demeanor, who of the two men had the better-quality product? And no, I'm not saying that because we were related. Back in the day when they had their little shop, everyone knew that Slausen couldn't hold a candle to Thaddeus Sherb when it came to making milkshakes and other treats. But in what had to be the greatest irony of our time, Grandpa was as warm and fuzzy as steel wool underwear. And when Sam finally reached his limit and opened Slausen's, it prospered despite his mediocrity. And as far as his family was concerned, you can just forget it. Dad gave all her attention to Aunt Wanda, while mom had to struggle to get any crumb of fatherly affection from him. Then after twenty years, his wife left him and joined a nunnery."
"I see." Dr. Bliss said. "I could only imagine the toll it took for them."
"THEM?!" Curly suddenly shouted. "WHAT ABOUT ME?! Who do you think had a front row seat to all this? For one thing, Dad griped and groused about having to take Grandpa's place at the parlor. You're all but gift-wrapped one of the most awesome jobs a person can think of, but what do you do; cry like a bratty schoolboy because your dreams of being Laundry Lord or whatever get flushed down the commode of compromised dreams. Oh, poor, poor, you…"
For a moment, Curly crosses his arms over his chest, closes his eyes and sways back and forth while turning his face to the ground in mock pity.
"Then you had mom who just became this exasperated shell of herself…no, that's too charitable. She became a hole; a giant, gaping, pit of misery and thanklessness! And just when you THINK you FINALLY found the bottom and can begin to work your way up…PFFT! The ground crumbles beneath you and you keep falling and falling deeper and deeper until sunlight becomes a vague and tepid shadow of a memory! Oh how I could see her in the few private moments she had curse this reversal of fortune she found herself in…And as for this inflexible and morose weasel who ran his house like a dime store dictatorship and would set his own kids on fire if it meant he could light his cigarette. All I saw was the helpless bag of meat whose sense of lucidity changed on a dime; one minute he could tell you who was the current President, Vice President, House Speaker, Secretary of the Interior, and what color their eyes were. And the next minute he'd still think it's World War II, and we'd get calls from the police about him roaming around on recycling night scatting 'In The Mood' by Glenn Miller while carrying a sack of soda cans and aluminum takeout tins he collected."
Curly stopped for a moment to take some deep breaths. For a moment, he could feel his fists pulsate while eyeing the bopping clown in the back of the office. But just as quickly as it had arrived, the sensation left. His fists slowly opened up and his once trembling arms returned to their relaxed state at Curly's sides.
"The only respite was that this was mercifully short all things considered. After almost two years of this, Grandpa Thaddeus died in his sleep a week or so before my birthday. He left the house to us, the parlor to dad, and with it the busted and mangled dreams of normalcy for his daughter and son in law. Considering all the money they spent, it wasn't like they could pick up the pieces and go back to the life they had before."
"That's really sad." Dr. Bliss said. "And unfortunately, our first session is about to come to a close."
"Yeah I know." Said Curly. "I can see mom rounding the corner as we speak. But there's one quick thing I want to mention about this before I leave."
"Shoot." Dr. Bliss responded.
"As I said before, Grandpa Thaddeus set in motion how we got here today. And in one final moment of cognizant thought before he croaked, he had managed to get one cool gift for my birthday."
"And what was that if you don't mind me asking?"
Curly's demeanor darkens slightly as he reaches into the pocket of his shorts. Slowly and reverently, he places a nub of a pencil in the good doctor's hand before leaving the office and charging her not to toss what he gave her into the garbage. Upon further inspection, Dr. Bliss sees that other than the eraser having deep teeth marks, it looked no different than the countless others she had used and seen in her lifetime. Yet it was the half-sharpened message written in red that ultimately caught her attention:
Wankyland: One and All are Welcome!