Remember, p.4
Remember, page 4
“Early riser?” Gabriel startled Johnny as he came from the room to his left.
“More like restless dreamer.”
Gabriel gave a small chuckle as he came to the banister beside Johnny. Looking out over the pool again. It was surprising to see that Gabriel was already awake.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” He asked.
“Goodness no. Every year I get older I must make more midnight stops to the bathroom. Though it seems you have a lot on your mind. Come have a drink. I keep the good stuff in my room.”
Johnny nodded and followed Gabriel into the room that he recalled vividly from his dream. The room was larger than the upstairs one and the bedroom was split apart from it by sliding double doors with the main room fashioned into a study. The walls lined with bookcases, some filled, and others empty only collecting dust. He had always wanted to have his own study, and this one reminded him vaguely of some Sherlock Holmes’ study that he had seen in some public television movie and part of his own imagination. Gabriel motioned for him to take a seat in one of the leatherback chairs.
“I didn’t imagine you as a collector of books.”
“I have always found a passion for reading; it helps me sleep and sometimes it makes me question many things. Though I will make no claims to have read all the books here, many were bought on a whim.”
Gabriel pulled two decanters from one of the bookshelves with two glasses and sat them on the table between them.
“Rum or whiskey?”
“Rum.”
He poured them both a glass and took a seat in the chair across from Johnny. He leaned back in his chair and sipped from his glass.
“Rum is meant to be sweet. Don’t you agree? No need to add anything.” He said.
Johnny took a sip from the glass and found that it went down remarkable smooth. He had never been fond of straight drinks without mixing it with something. However, this rum was smooth and sweet.
“It’s good.”
“When I could convince your grandfather he always enjoyed the whiskey, but that was far and in between. He was a beer man if I had ever met one.”
“Yeah.” Johnny said, cupping the glass in both hands. “I didn’t get to share many drinks with him.”
“John. I know it is a great deal to handle the passing of a loved one. Your mind can play tricks on you, cause you to feel remarkable love and loathing at the same time, but the passage of time can heal it.”
“You have any family?”
“Maybe across the pond. Some distance relative that I would not be able to pick out of a crowd but no, no one close.”
Johnny took another sip from his cup as he leaned back into the chair, giving into its comfort. He glanced towards the books on the shelves, the ones that had titles were too far away to see and some were just plain bindings.
“What is your favorite book?”
“I always liked Hemingway’s A Farwell to Arms.”
Gabriel set his glass on the table and went to one of the bookshelves. His hand drifting over the covers for a moment as though he was reading them just by touch. Though Johnny knew that was a foolish thought, he took another sip.
“Seems that I am missing that book in my collection. I will have to buy another copy. Though my personal favorite is this.”
Gabriel grabbed a book from the shelf and handed it to Johnny before sitting back down. The book cover was simple bound with a red cover and golden trim with a picture of a small girl’s face stamped in the second. Opening to the first page, he was surprised.
“Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland?”
The title page was accompanied by an illustration of the King and Queen at a table. He rubbed his hand across the painting. He always liked Walt Disney’s version, but he had never read the original copy. Him and Johnny both took a sip from their glasses as Johnny skimmed through the book softly. Finally, he closed the book and looked up at Gabriel who was just sitting there with a silent expression.
“I should really let you get some sleep.” Johnny said, as he stood and handing the book back to Gabriel who took it gingerly.
“If you insist John. If you should find yourself sleepless again sometime, come knock. Rum is always better in company.”
Johnny turned to leave, remembering the light of the rose room before he came down. He opened his mouth but stopped as he looked at Gabriel who was eyeing him oddly which made Johnny feel slightly uneasy. It was the same look that he had gotten from the red-haired girl in his dream, as though he was being sized up. He cleared his throat and gave Gabriel a smile and the look vanished, meeting him with an equally warm smile.
Johnny stood on the balcony, his hands tightly ringing the banister. If he was young, he would have brushed off the nightmare and went back to sleep, but with age came worry. What secret message was his mind trying to tell him? He was sure he could search it on his phone and find several hundred websites depicting what the dream meant, scared of the unknown, that he was running from his problems. He did not put much faith in these ideas and yet he still had woken from the dream, scared.
Turning he ascended to the second story, stopping as he came to the top of the stairs and turning around to look towards the bottom. Half expecting to see the girl waiting for him again at the bottom, it was empty of course. He glanced towards the rose room again, the light shimmering on the carpet below the door. He glanced around and slowly approached the door. His knuckles wrapped against the door, but no one answered.
He chuckled to himself and turned towards his own room.
Chapter 4
John had slept the remaining early morning until nearly nine. It had been the first time in nearly five years that he had such a luxury. He had found breakfast outside his door that morning and when he left the B&B, he had not seen Gabriel. The crisp morning air had felt good against his skin, unlike the cold and wet West side he found it oddly dry and warm for October. Which made him decide to walk back to his grandfathers’ home, he would occasionally look to the old roads as he wondered if the same potholes that he had learned to navigate were still in place, only slightly deeper.
He was excited to see Luna again. Though he once more was brought with the thought of her possibly having a boyfriend or husband and recoiled himself into avoiding her for a bit longer. Turning into the gate he strolled through the pasture towards the light blue mobile home once more. He wasn’t sure what he was going to accomplish by visiting the home — he could take it all in a single day — but he found himself sluggishly avoiding it. As he opened the gate, he heard his phone go off, digging into his phone he answered the call. The phone’s battery symbol reminding him it was struggling with life.
“This is John.” What he always answered when he didn’t recognize the number.
“John. This is Gary Portman the pastor here at The United Church of Christ. I spoke to your mother this morning to let her know that we received your grandfather this morning and she told me to contact you for all our needs until she got here.”
Gary Portman had been the pastor for some years now. John remembered when he first came to the church and took over for Jerry Williams. When he was young, he would play in the Christmas specials with Luna and Larry. Often being stuck with the man for long periods of time while they rehearsed. He smelled of cheap tobacco and whiskey no matter the time of day.
“What do you mean you received my grandfather, he never attended church.”
Johnny skipped the second step and unlocked the front door as he made his way into the house. Now feeling as though he was on warpath with the amount of frustration that slithered its way under his skin. His grandfather was never a religious man, he had always claimed that he had made peace with what he did in life and did not need someone to preach to him on how to be a good man.
“Your grandfather requested to be buried in the plot next to your grandmother and we handle all burials that are requested in the old town plot. Your mother already gave consent for this.”
John stopped, standing now roughly in the middle of the kitchen. He rubbed his temple; his mother had been more religious ever since she had moved. He would always get lectured when he cursed or told not to take the lords name in vein which always caused him to roll his eyes.
“What do you need?”
“We were hoping you could pick out a suit for your grandfather. Something that he either liked to wear or something you believe he would look good in.”
“Right. I’ll get right on that.” John said as he hung up the phone.
He really wanted to throw his phone against the white speckle walls, but he refrained. He went to his grandfather’s room and opened the door ignoring the nagging feeling that he might find his grandfather sitting on the edge of his bed watching TV. The room sat empty and he went to the closet, pulling at the door until he nearly snapped the handle in frustration. Pushing the shirts and hung pants out his way he knew the suit he was looking for, a light blue faded outfit that he remembered his grandfather had always seemed to wear on special occasions, including his graduation — the first to graduate High School in their family.
Finding it stuffed in the back of the closet he set it on the bed and fumbled to get the closet door to close, having to push several boxes back for the door to slide. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he took a few deep breaths attempting to compose himself. He had felt his cheeks flush and he disliked that he had gotten so worked up over such a trivial matter. The room was small compared to the master or his old room, it had just a single queen bed and a dresser where a new flat screen TV now sat. He wondered if his grandfather had a hard time setting it up, or maybe he got help, wishful thinking to make himself feel better. The walls were lined with pictures of ships and a few fishing polls that had been mounted on hooks.
Standing he looked at one of the photos that hung under a fishing pole. His grandfather was helping Johnny hold up a large Carp. The fish was ugly, and Johnny thought about how thrilled he had been to be able to catch the fish, fighting it with his whole body almost feeling like his seven-year arms were going to be pulled from their sockets. It was the only fish they caught that day and he remembered bragging to all those that would listen.
He heard a knock on the door and his mind leaped from the memory to a slight hope that Luna would be standing on the porch. He left the room, leaving the door open as to not allow his mind to play anymore with him. Coming to the front door he glanced towards his grandfather chair but found it empty. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, maybe he had hoped that his imagination might have played its trick on him again.
He opened the door.
“God lord, look at you John Everleaf.” Said Brad McClain. His brown hair with its traces of grey was slicked back, it reminded Johnny of the fast-talking car salesmen that jumped from one dealership to the next, never able to stay long before they dug themselves a hole with their lies — though Johnny doubted he was much different now. “Last time I saw you, you were only shoulder height.”
Brad McClain had a reputation, he was as crooked as a snake and downright untrustworthy. His grandfather and father had made him rich with their establishment of farming the rough fields around Mcclocklin, but Brad had other plans and never took to the farming life. He liked playing too much Johnny’s grandfather would say and Johnny knew that he had made several passes to purchase his grandfather’s acreage several times over the years.
“What can I do for you Mr. McClain?”
“Call me Brad, you’re not a child anymore John.” Brad corrected him. “Is your mother here?”
“No, she is stuck in Tennessee.”
“Oh dear, hopefully she makes it back for the funeral.”
“I’m sure she will. I’m awful busy with the funeral also. So, what can I do for you?”
“I heard you were staying with that Gabriel fellow. Awful odd fellow, he could have built several more modern homes with the money he sank into that B&B. I would have torn it down and built something to draw more people in.”
“Mr.…Brad if you are wondering what is going to happen to the property since my grandfather’s passing, we have not discussed the matter as a family. My mother will have the final say in the matter, so I doubt I can provide you any more insight into the matter.”
“Johnny. You don’t mind me calling you Johnny, do you? I would hope you’d not think so little of me, I heard you were in town and thought I’d share my condolences. I know your grandfather and me have had our difference, but I’d like to think we put it past us in the last few years. It was nice to stop by and share a beer with, he was very open for a man his age.”
“I accept your condolences and I’m sure at the funeral you can share your stories with all that attend. It would be welcome.”
“What do you have planned for today?”
“I am just going through things for the funeral and Gary Portman was wanting me to pick out a suit for my grandfather.”
“Gary won’t be much good after noon. His hand gets a little heavy after that and talking to the man will do little to help. How about we go grad some lunch and a few cocktails?” Brad said as he looked at his watch.
“Brad while I appreciate the offer. Don’t you agree it’s a bit early to get a few drinks.”
“I said cocktails with food. My treat.”
Johnny fumbled to find another excuse. Everything he said was mostly being ignored or glossed over by Brad. He could only assume that he wanted to probe for some idea of what was going to happen his grandfather’s land. Glancing back into the empty home, he looked on the recliner which laid rocking slightly. It sent a shiver down his spine as the same eerie feeling crept into him as yesterday. If he left now, he could be back by two and get the suit to the church.
“Fine. As long as we are back by two since I doubt you will take no for an answer.”
“Not a minute late.”
They sat in silence of Brad’s brand-new Chevy Silverado, the leather seats would creak with each small movement which Johnny tried painfully to avoid, and he wasn’t sure where they were going to go but he doubted it would be far from Mcclocklin. The countryside rolled past the window as Johnny pressed his foot against the floorboard subconsciously attempting to find a brake as he could feel the truck was speeding. He had picked up the habit sometime after having to do test drives with customers, a way to give him some fake control and not show that he did not trust the driver.
Passing past the old Mcclocklin Manor, Johnny turned his head towards it. The home was built sometime in the early twenties by Harry Mcclocklin. He had heard the stories that the Mcclocklins had moved due to his wife needing a dryer climate. Boosting over six thousand square feet, it was the largest home you would see in nearly twenty miles. His grandfather had told him that Harry Mcclocklin had been known to throw raging parties that would last late into the morning.
“Another piece of property that could have been put to better use.” Brad said as he shifted his eyes towards Johnny.
“Know who bought it?”
“Not entirely sure. One day there was crews that began to restore it, but that was two years ago. I tried to bribe my friend at the county clerk’s office for the records, but it just states some company back East took ownership, the Aileen Corporation.”
“Strange to spend the money to remodel it and never live in it.”
“Some people have more money than sense.”
Johnny let out a small chuckle at the comment as he knew he was sitting with one of those people. They continued out of the town, the houses spread further apart, and farmland filled their gaps. As they climbed another hill, he found another part of the Brad’s grandfather’s land had been transformed into more properties and hidden in the middle of them was a small golf course. Turning off the main road they drove past several nearly complete homes, the sold signs sticking like little crosses in front of each home.
“Haven’t had much trouble turning the old farmland into lots, have you?”
“Oh, don’t get cute with me John. I’m providing a service. California folks mostly, they enjoy the open space instead of being clustered together like rats. You lived in Seattle I’m sure you feel like you can breathe better out here.”
Johnny did not answer Brad; he knew the answer. Even if he had a rough time sleeping the night before, he had slept deeply. Coming to a stop in front of the main entrance to ‘Gold Country Membership House’, he stepped out of the truck with Brad and followed him inside. The building’s sign said clubhouse, the building was built with fake stone and wood framework encasing the ceiling and walls.
“Two please.” Brad said smiling at a staff member.
“Of course, sir. Right this way.”
They were seated right away, and Johnny was surprised how many people were lingering in the lounge around them.
“I’ll take a pomegranate martini. What would you like John?”
“Umm I guess I’ll take a rum and coke.”
“You should try the Dark and Stormy. A rum with ginger beer.”
“Ok…I’ll have one of those.”
Brad fiddled with his silverware as the waiter left to fetch their drinks with only a smile to acknowledge their orders.
“So, tell me John what have you been doing over there on the West side. Your grandfather only ever said you were always busy working.”
“I worked as a used car salesman.”
“Couldn’t picture you as one of those vultures. I always like to wear coveralls when I go in to buy a new truck. Make the suit and tie boys snap their necks when I say I will pay in cash.”
“That would do it.” Johnny laughed.
“You must have found some success since I don’t recall you coming to visit after you left.”
“Acting like you were keeping track of me.”
“No at all. Gretchen Olson would have speed dialed me and wore my ear off about how Johnny Everleaf was back in town. I don’t believe I ever gave her my number, but she still calls me to tell me about all the little things happening outside her window.”
