Winter, 2015
A Closed Mouth Gathers No Foot
While the new (new to me) building hadn't gone to rack and ruin, it did need a bit of work. Bookshelves, of course, miles and miles of bookshelves, just for a start. I made dozens of trips to Gearson's, a used building supply company that specialized in reclaiming materials from teardowns. I've found everything from stack of lumber (at cut rate prices, about a third of the rate at Lowe's or Home Depot) to some gorgeous glass doorknobs. Ducky got hooked on the yard when he found a Victorian fire screen in mint condition (it now graces Mother's room). And they even steered me toward a general contractor I could afford. I'm good at bookcases—I can slap them together in my sleep—but I really don't like tackling electrical or plumbing issues. Enter Rudy Bascharat, retired (but still licensed) contractor who took on occasional jobs just for fun and a bit of cash.
Enter also Julia Williams, owner of The Crazy Cat Lady.
Julia was thrilled, ecstatic, even, to discover she was getting a new neighbor and the neighbor would be selling books. She was one of a small handful of business owners who had hung on when Party Hearty died, hoping someone would open a new anchor business and maybe drag in some new blood. She also had a bit of a "thing" for Rudy—and the worst memory for names I've ever seen.
One time she called me Mrs. Beaches; another time, Mrs. Rocklin. By questioning her, I discovered she had a mental image of a beach with a rock breakwater, trying to link that to Sandy. Close… Geoff, as the manager of the new store, stopped by frequently to keep an eye on the proceedings; Julia pictured him as Geoffrey the Giraffe from Toys R Us. Unfortunately, he often became Bert or Ernie, since one stuffed critter is much like another. He just shrugged philosophically and said, "Beats Big Bird."
I told her about Julie Smith's Rebecca Schwartz series, and the character who used "pigball" to substitute for words she couldn't remember. Julia tried that trick; didn't turn out well.
About a month away from opening, Julia's sister stopped by for lunch and Julia made it a point to drag her over to meet Rudy. He's a cute little button of a man—about 5'2", round little body, round little face, bald as a billiard ball and the best sense of humor around.
Good thing, too. Julia came bopping through the door, almost skipping as she brought her sister along. "Rudy! This is my sister, Maggie, I've told her all about you. Maggie, this is—" There was a moment of sheer panic on her face, then the clouds parted. "Rudy Whackamole!"
I closed my eyes for a moment. Maggie was clearly used to her sister's inability to get names right or have things stick in her memory and just shook her head. I had visions of losing a good neighbor or a contractor—or both.
Rudy, bless his heart, just stuck his hand out and grinned. "My friends just call me Air Hockey."