It was 1976, our first winter in that house between the
canal and the railroad tracks. We were one
house away from the dead-end on our side of the street, and on the other side, Harriet’s
trailer was dead last.
If it wasn’t a travel trailer, it was the smallest mobile
home I’d ever seen. A kitchen with
living space at one end, a bedroom at the other, and a cramped bathroom in
between. Harriet had a chihuahua named Speedy
and diabetes. She wore house dresses, bathrobes, and bedroom slippers. Her calves were tight and swollen. There were sores on them.
Our house was old but had been remodeled before we moved in
to create a bathroom. Modernized to serve
as a rental I figured. It was extremely
affordable and perfectly square. Each of
Its four rooms were the same size. The
heating stove was in the living room and the other three rooms were chilly. But we had each other.
Harriet just had the chihuahua.
It was early December and the forecast called for a big snow. I was headed for the grocery store in case we
were snowed in.
“You should ask Harriet if she needs anything. She hates to leave the trailer if there’s
snow and ice.”
“I will.”
We tried to keep an eye on Harriet. Seemed no one else did.
When I pounded on the trailer door, she yelled for me to
come in. I stepped inside. Harriet had her electric space heater cranked
up and it was terribly hot. The air
smelled of Pine-Sol.
Harriet was sitting on her love seat with Speedy curled up
beside her. Harriet’s heels were together
on an ottoman, but her toes pointed out diagonally. The soles of her slippers were dirty and
scuffed, forming a dark V. She turned
her gaze from the TV to me. Harriet’s
glasses had thick lenses that magnified her eyes.
She was saying something to me, but I couldn’t hear her. It
was very quiet outside with the snow but extra loud in the trailer. I tried to talk over the TV.
“THEY’RE SAYING WE COULD GET SNOWED IN HARRIET. I’M GOING TO THE STORE. WANT TO SEE IF YOU NEED ANYTHNG.”
She cupped her hand behind her ear and yelled back.
“TURN THAT THING DOWN WILL YOU?”
I found the volume knob and turned it down. So much better. I repeated my offer of help.
“Well, ain’t that nice, youse thinking of me like that. Let me see.
I was just to the store Tuesday. I
better check.”
With effort, she moved her feet from the ottoman to the
floor. Then she grabbed the arms of her
chair and began to push herself up. She strained, her face got red, she sat
back down.
“As long as you’re here, give me a hand up will ya?”
Harriet stuck her arm out towards me. I pulled hard and she stood, letting out a big groan. She stood there a moment, straightening and gathering herself, then shuffled towards the refrigerator and opened the door. I looked over her shoulder while she scanned the shelves.
Baloney, eggs, white
bread, ketchup, oleo, pickles, three packages of cheap hot dogs, orange juice, assorted
condiments and a big jar of Miracle Whip.
There was lettuce in the crisper getting brown on the edges.
Harriet was able to walk slowly to the convenience store, up
and over the tracks, a few blocks away. She
pulled a wire basket on wheels. Not much
choice there. They didn’t carry dog food,
so Harriet had taken to feeding Speedy their cheap wieners.
“I’m pretty well fixed for a few days Dave. Enough to get through a storm I figure.”
“OK. Just thought I’d
ask.”
Speedy was at Harriet’s ankles looking agitated.
“He thinks I’m gonna feed him.”
Harriet got her finger inside an open package of hot dogs
and fished one out. Speedy stood on his
hind legs and turned around in a circle.
“Look at the little guy,” Harriet said.
She broke the wiener in half, stooped over, and held it in
mid-air. Speedy jumped, snagged it, and disappeared
into the bedroom.
“You two getting along OK over there across the street?”
“We’re fine Harriet. Nice
and quiet down here. We like it. We’re busy working most days.”
Colleen was teaching at an alternative school and I was working
as an aide at a nursing home.
“Yeah, when your cars leave of a morning its dead silent
down here on this end of the street.
Just me, Speedy, and the birds.”
She looked longingly at her chair. Speedy came back and looked up at Harriet
expectantly. She tossed the second half
of the wiener on the floor. Speedy grabbed it and ran back to the bedroom. Harriet plopped into her chair.
“Say, you wouldn’t be going downtown to the D&S would ya?”
The D&S was the closest thing to a supermarket that
little town had.
“Yeah.”
“Well, if that’s the case, I might ask you to pick me up a
quart of Old Thompson. If I’m going to
get snowed in, I might as well have something to help me pass the time.”
“I can do that Harriet.
What if they don’t have it?”
“Oh, I think they will. But if they’re out, Kesslers will do
fine.”
Old Thompson and Kesslers were favorites of the dive bar
shot and a beer crowd. The old guys
would order a shot and a short one or a shot and a wash. Some skipped the shot after they’d had a
couple and switched to beer only. Others
kept right on.
“Just the whiskey then Harriet?”
“Yeah, just the whiskey.
Thanks. Let me get you some
money.”
“Don’t get up. I’ve
got money. You can pay me when I get
back.”
Harriet’s feet were on the floor. Speedy had come back. When I looked down at him, I saw Speedy licking
a sore on Harriet’s ankle. Harriet
looked up smiled.
“OK Harriet. I’ll be
back soon.”
When I got back the snow was falling harder. Big flakes.
I knocked on the trailer door. No
response. Finally, Harriet yelled, and I
stepped in. The TV was off. Looked like she had been sleeping. Speedy was on her lap.
I sat the Old Thompson, in a brown paper bag, on her TV
stand. I kept the door open, intending
to leave quickly.
“There you go Harriet.
Let us know if you need anything else.”
“Hold on now. I’m
going to pay you.”
She handed me a five and two ones.
“Does that cover it?”
“Yeah. That’s good.”
It was more than that, but I let it go. I didn’t want to see her try to get up again.
I turned to go.
“Wait. I want to tell you something.”
I stopped and turned.
“I never lock that door you know. If you ever get lonely yourself or need some
company, you could come over here anytime. We could have a drink. Maybe a little party.”
She flashed her biggest smile and arched her eyebrows. Speedy picked up his head and looked first at
Harriet, then at me.
“I’ll be going now Harriet.
You take care.”
That night after supper, across the street, Colleen and I sat
together on the couch listening to albums.
“How was Harriet today?”
“Oh, you know. The
same.”
“Did you pick up groceries for her?”
“No. No food
anyway. All she wanted was a quart of whiskey.”
“Whiskey?
Really? A quart? I didn’t know she drank like that. Did you get it for her?”
“Yeah.”
“I hope she doesn’t get loaded and fall down in there.”
“Me too.”
The record stopped. I
got up and turned it over. It was James
Taylor’s One Man Dog album.
I sat back down and put my arm around Colleen.
“Let’s make a deal.
Want to?”
“What kind of deal?”
“A long-range deal.
Let’s not get old. What do you
say?”
“I don’t think we can stop that.”
“No? Well, if not
let’s make sure we’re not alone when we get there.”
“That we might be able to pull off. If we’re lucky.”
She hugged me.
“What brings this on?”
“Harriet’s life. It’s
so sad to watch. “
“Did something happen when you went over there?
“Nothing you want to hear about. She’s OK, I guess. But I don’t want either of us to go through
what she is by ourselves.”
“That we might be able to do. We can try hard anyway.”
The music stopped and the room was quiet. Snow was still piling up. We could see it falling through the yellow
cone under the streetlight outside, the last one on the edge of town.
The needle on the turntable got to the next track, and “Don’t
Let Me Be Lonely Tonight” began to play.
The smooth voice of James Taylor at the start, that sweet tenor sax at
the end.
When the song finished, we went to bed. On the way, I looked across the street.
The inside of Harriet’s trailer was lit only by her TV, glowing in the kitchen.
I looked away.
(To listen to the song, press CTRL and click the link below)
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