To Go or Not To Go
Jean kind of faded into the background again as she was busy doing things with Allen and the girls. But it wasn’t too long before she informed me that they were going to sell their trailer and buy a real house farther out in the country. The song “Trailer for Sale or Rent” popped into my head and got stuck there all day. I was a little surprised at the news, but not really. They both had good jobs and Allen wanted to move further away and live more of a country kind of lifestyle that he was accustomed to. I couldn’t get that damn song out of my head “Trailer for Sale or Rent,” until I was struck by a wild and crazy thought. I was making good money at the diner and even had a few bucks saved up. Maybe I could buy their trailer! I excitedly called Jean from the payphone and ran the idea by her. She was all in. “Of course, Beatrice, we’d be happy to sell it to you!” And Lo and Behold! A month later I moved out of my Etna mole hole and into Jean’s lovely home. I never called it a trailer again. I moved up to a “mobile home” in a mobile home park. I was living the dream. I was in heaven. And it was closer to work and the bus ride and fare were better. Life is just a sweet dream.
Jean, Allen, Ida, and Belle moved into their beautiful new ranch home where Jean and Allen still live to this day. Far out!
A few years passed quietly, uneventfully blase’ and mundane. I was becoming bored with my life again. Every day was the same, boring, boring, boring. I shouldn’t complain. I had it all. Everything I ever dreamed of. I even had my own phone installed. Everything except a car that is. I was worried about getting old. Wondering if I was missing out on life as it was passing me by so fast. This is sad to say, but my self-pity was enhanced by Jean’s latest great news. She was pregnant! Why wasn’t I happy about that? Jean was so excited when she made the announcement, but it scared me. I thought to myself “Jeanie, what the hell are you thinking? You’re closing in on 40 years old!” At some point, I actually did have that conversation with Jean and she assured me that the doctor said it was fine. Allen loved the girls but wanted to have one of his own kids too. Seven months later, Jean was a happy mother of three daughters, Ida, Belle, and Lee. After all of her years of adversity while growing up and all that she has been through, Jean was living the happiest and most normal life of anybody I knew, including myself. I felt like a loser.
Later that summer, Jean called to tell me she would be away for a week on vacation. She and her family were going on their annual camping trip to Lake Erie. They loved camping on weekends and the weeklong summer trip was the highlight of the year for them. Happy happy happy. I hated myself for being jealous. The Animals song popped into my head. “I Gotta Get Outta this Place.”
Diner life was status quo, never-ending, never changing. The same old routine day in and day out. Loud-mouthed foul-mouthed truckers in and out every day. I hate to admit this, but I felt like I was at home with them. By association, I was relating more and more to them and found myself more and more talking inappropriately just like them. “Not good,” I thought to myself.
Dean started coming back to the diner. Dumb-ass Dean, I called him. What a freak with that scraggly long hair and beard. He acted like a crude rough-hewn Gomer Pyle. Although, thank God he never said “golly” or “gee.” He was friendly and harmless, probably because he was usually stoned. I noticed that he arrived at the diner in a taxi one day. When he came inside, I asked him about it. “What’s up Dean? Are you back to driving a taxi again?”
He replied “Yep.”
“Did you get your old job back?”
“Nope.”
What a dope. “Dean, go sit down in the booth over there.” As crazy as Dean was, he was just as kind and gentle. I often sat in his booth with him during my breaks. I commented to Dean that I never saw him pick up any fares. “Was the taxi business really slow?” I asked.
“Yep,” he replied.
So, since he didn’t have many customers, if any, I suggested one day that he taxi me home after work and I’d pay him my bus fare.
“Sure,” he said.
I never had to ride the bus again after that day. I paid Dean to taxi me back and forth to work every day. It was nice, way better than the stinking bus. Dean doesn’t talk much though, which makes him a good listener. We were well-matched in that department because I never shut the hell up. I wondered how Dean ever got hired, let alone kept a job at the cab co. The sign on the doors looked like a legitimate cab company. Eventually, I figured it out. Well, to be honest, the truck drivers told me that the cab company went bankrupt. He didn’t work for anybody now. When the company went bankrupt, they gave their old used cabs to their employees as owed back pay. Now why doesn’t that surprise me?
On the way home from work one evening, I said to Dean “I can’t take it any longer. I’m going crazy here. I need something more out of life.”
He replied, “Wanna joint?”
“What? No! You know I don’t do drugs! I need a vacation. I’ve never been on a vacation in my whole life. I don’t have a car. I never get to go anywhere and I can’t fly.”
“Why not,” he asked.
“The damn seats are too small.”
He nodded and said, “I can’t fly either.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because of this steel plate I got in my head,” he replied as he bonked himself on the head.
“What? Never mind.” I didn’t even ask. Jan told me a long time ago that he had some kind of war wound. I didn’t even want to hear another crazy story. I couldn’t take it. I thought I was going insane.
That night, I was watching the TV news and saw a story about a big party that was going on next month. That’s what I need, a hell of a big party. They said it was called the “Mardi Gras.” I mentioned it at work and a lot of the truckers knew all about it. But it was pretty damn far away. Way down yonder in New Orleans!
On the way to work the next morning, I asked Dean if he ever heard of the Mardis Gras. He said “Yep, it’s outta site” I was astounded.
“Dean, you’ve been there?” I asked.
“Yep, far out.”
“When were you there?”
“When I was in the Navy. They have a naval base there.” Holy shit. Dean is a world traveler!
“Dean, I think I want to go there?”
“Okay,” he replied as he proceeded to make a U-turn.
“Dean, what the hell are you doing?”
“Going to New Orleans,” he replied.
“Not now you dope, we have to plan this trip. Just take me to work, okay?”
I had a long talk with Frankie and he said he understood. I really did have to get outta this place. He told me that my job would be waiting for me when I got back. On the way home from work, I told Dean that I was able to take time off from work to go on vacation. My first vacation ever. And it was going to be a big one. “I want to leave in one week from today.”
“Okay, far out man,” he said.
It had been quite a while since I last talked to Jean, so I called her to tell her the exciting news. She said that was really great news and that she would like to meet me at the lounge for a drink before I left. “Perfect,” I replied. See you on Saturday, we’re leaving on Monday.”
Late Saturday afternoon I met Jean for a drink. I arrived first and was already seated at a table when she walked in. She was walking slowly and limping more than usual. She looked tired. I knew the kids and all kept her very busy. Maybe it was all too much for her I thought. She sat down and smiled, “I’m so happy for you Beatrice. You’re finally going on a vacation. And with a boyfriend!”
“Wait, what? I’m going with Dean.” “Yes, that is what I said, your boyfriend.”
“No way Missy, Dean is a wacko friend. Nothing more.”
“Bea Bea, come on now, you can’t bullshit me. You like him.”
“Stop it,” I replied. Tell me about you. How have you been?” The waitress came over and took our order. “IC light for me,” I said. Jean ordered Captain and Coke. “Oh, that’s different.”
”Yes, Allen likes Captain better than Jack, and I do too now. Beatrice, I have something to tell you.” And her eyes started welling up.
“What is it, Jean?” I asked.
“I have cancer.”
“What the ****!” Oh my god! I was stuttering “When? What? Where?”
“About one month ago I was diagnosed with two types of cancer, CLL and SLL. A type of Leukemia and a type of lymphoma.” I was floored and speechless.
“Ohhh Jean, I have to stay here with you until they fix it.”
“No, Beatrice, you don’t understand. They can’t fix it, there is no cure.” I burst into tears while I listened. “It’s bad Bea. But they have treatments that I am taking. There’s no cure but they think they can manage it and keep it under control.”
“For how long?” I asked.
“I’ll have to take treatments for the rest of my life because of my compromised immune system.”
“I am so sorry Jean, what can I do to help?”
“Go on your vacation and have fun. Party hard for me because I won’t be able to for a while. Call me often and tell me all about it.” We held hands across the table as tears flowed down both of our faces.
I couldn’t sleep all weekend, thinking about my poor sister. She grew up with polio and suffered for all those years and all those tears. They kind of fixed that. At least she was able to walk pretty normally. It was only a few years ago that she had a heart attack. They were able to fix that with 3 stents. It slowed her down for a few months but she bounced back. And then she had back surgery for spinal stenosis. They were able to kind of fix that but she still had ongoing back pain. And now this… They can’t fix it! Shit! I hate this. Why did I never have a single health issue and Jean has so many very very major serious ones. It’s just not fair. I wished I could take some of hers upon myself to ease her burdens. How can my loving sister go on? How strong can she be? How much suffering is one person expected to bear? I cried all weekend.
RUCKSACK GRUNT - A Vietnam Veteran's Memoir 