Trip to the Store - part ii

To catch up, this chapter starts at the second trip to the store following the first trip for cigarettes. It is kinda long, so I apologize for that.

I decided on the follow-up trip to forgo the shortcut and take the long way around. It took about 10 minutes longer on foot but I was no big hurry. As I walked to the main street, South Garden Avenue, I caught sight of another Casa Fernandes resident – Mr. Touch – that was our name for him. Mr. Touch didn’t say much because he had things to do. He had to touch all objects as he walked.

If James was Winston Churchill, Mr. Touch was Jimmy Stewart. Mr. Touch always wore a nice, although worn, suit and fedora. At first glance, Mr. Touch might not gather any attention. His tall frame in a suit walking down the street would not raise any suspicions, that is until he walked in the middle of the street and touched the manhole cover with his foot. As he walked, he touched each fence post or nearby branch and was on the watch for the next manhole cover. If a post or bush were not available, Mr. Touch would lightly but deliberately touch the top of his head until an object appeared that needed touching.

I imagine now that Mr. Touch needed to touch each item to reassure himself that he was living in the real world - almost like pinching oneself to make sure you are not in a dream, Mr. Touch touched things to make sure he was not in a dream or worse.
Maybe Mr. Touch's alternate world was such an awful place that he had to constantly remind himself that he wasn't there. His tactile reactions were all he had to let him know that he was safe in this world.

I let him walk past me without engaging in conversation. As I approached the corner, I saw yet another resident – Tom. Tom was younger and more professorial than the other residents. He spoke clearly and succinctly. “Good to day to you” he said to me as I approached the entrance to the apartment complex that contained Casa Fernandes.

“Hello. Say Tom – I haven’t seen James around for a few weeks. Is he ok?”
“The old chap is fine. Every few weeks he has electro shock therapy. He is recovering from that but he will be up and around in no time.”
“Electro-shock therapy? Does that hurt?”
“I haven’t had it myself but most of the residents here do. It helps keep them calm. Going to the store are you?” He chose to ignore the part about pain.
“Hmmm? Oh yes – I am going to the store.”
“Ah. Well, carry on then and stay away from too much candy. It is bad for your teeth.”
“Ok, thanks Tom.”

I did not pay attention to Tom’s warning and headed straight for the candy aisles. I purchased a Missile Pop - a tri-colored cone shaped sucker that actually got sharper and sharper as it sat in the mouth. If anyone ever tried to attack me on the way home and there was always that chance, I could remove the sucker from my mouth and use it as a javelin and spear the attacker with the sharpened end.

“That’ll be 15 cents.” Said Claire, the large-haired cashier. “No cigarettes today?”
“No, just the candy- I am trying to quit the cigarettes.”
“Huh? Oh, good one. Ok, have a good day.”

I made it back home in nine minutes flat. As I entered our backyard from the shortcut, I could see my Dad setting up the barbeque and getting ready to grill. Looks like we were having a BBQ tonight.

“Ape, go inside and get me the hot dogs.” My dad started every sentence with Ape. I have no idea why. I guess it was his joke instead of saying “Hey”. Or he liked calling me an ape. Never could figure that out.

I ran inside and grabbed the hot dogs. As the sun set, the hot dogs and burgers grilled and our entire family stayed outside listening to albums from a speaker placed near the door.

“Honey, go inside and put on the Linda Ronstadt album.” My mom called me honey, much better than ape. I went inside and changed the album and Blue Bayou started to play.

I'm going back someday
Come what may
To Blue Bayou
Where the folks are fine
And the world is mine
On Blue Bayou
Where those fishing boats
With their sails afloat
If I could only see
That familiar sunrise
Through sleepy eyes
How happy I'd be

The barbeque was especially good that day. My dad even made his famous guacamole with his secret ingredient – pickle juice.

“Keeps it fresh. Ape! Stay out of that!”

That night sleep came easy. Our bedroom was in the corner of the house, closest to the shortcut. We had bunk beds and I got top bunk. The beds overlooked a window that had a shutter on the bottom half but was exposed on the top half of the window.

Lying in the top bunk, I could see out the window and had a view of the backyard fence and above that the light post of the church parking lot. I often fell asleep staring at the light post convinced it was a UFO.

The only problem with the shortcut was that other people could use it too. It was a hole in the defenses of our castle. Intruders could enter undetected and pass close to the house. One night, the police chased a suspect down our driveway and right through the shortcut.

As I slept that night, another intruder had entered our sanctuary undetected. A tall man stood outside the window, tall enough to see over the shutter and watched me sleep. From my vantage point, he appeared as a silhouette – all details washed out by the bright light post over the fence.

My sleep turned uneasy and I awoke. As I looked out the window to try and determine whether it was day or night, the shadow disappeared beneath the shutter. As it descended, I thought I saw a head – wearing a hat.

My heart surged. Was someone behind the shutter? Who was watching me? Was it a dream? It must have been a dream. I was a good dreamer. I once had a dream that the milkman was the Zodiac killer. That dream scared me for days. Truth be told, it still scares me. My pulse relaxed and I turned over to try and sleep again. It was just a dream but got to ask Mom to put up some curtains.

As I fell back asleep, the shadow wearing a hat quietly entered the shortcut and disappeared into the dark of night.