Charlotte Figg Takes Over Paradise Page 4

  "Caveat emptor, Mrs. Figg. Caveat emptor."

  The hairs on my arms stood up. But I didn't say anything. I felt so puny next to him, like I was the one in the wrong. I looked at the ground and said, "I trusted you."

  He laughed and pulled open the rickety screen door. "Like I said, I'll be down in a few to get you set up."

  The woman behind the curtain disappeared like an apparition. I climbed back into the car. "Lucky, I think this is what they call the old bait and switch." I started the car and pulled away up Mango Street. "Herman always said it; I can't do anything right."

  Rose Tattoo and a beanpole of a man were waiting outside the trailer when I got back. He towered over her and had short blonde hair. He wore a waist-long denim jacket and jeans with a small, frayed hole in the back pocket that opened an eye to a worn leather wallet. My dog loped over to him like he'd known him his whole life. For a moment I wondered if somehow Lucky managed to travel all the way to my front door from Paradise. He seemed to know the place pretty well and I never did learn where he came from.

  Rose introduced me. "This is Asa. The man I told you about. He takes good care of us around here. He can fix just about anything that's broke."

  "And some things that aren't broke," he said revealing one dimple in his right cheek.

  Asa offered his left hand for me to shake, and that was when I noticed the right sleeve of his jacket was folded and held to his shoulder by a large diaper pin with a baby blue head.

  "Nice to meet you, Charlotte," he said.

  I smiled into his eyes to avoid contact with his infirmity.

  "Did you talk to Fergus?" Rose asked.

  "I did and he told me there was nothing I could do."

  "He's right," Asa said. "There really isn't anything you can do now except try and sell this old bucket, and that won't be easy."

  "But it's not what I bought." It surprised me how easily I talked to Rose and Asa for only knowing them a short while.

  "Now, if you want," Asa said, "I can run around back and get the heat started and hook into the electric."

  "I'm not staying." I chose to ignore the missing arm. "I think I'll find a hotel for the night."

  "Now, why do that?" Rose asked. "Just cost you more money."

  "Still, I think I'll be more comfortable until I figure out what I want to do."

  "The nearest place is a B&B down in Shoops called the Bee and Bee," Rose said. "And I know for a fact that they don't take dogs. The owner is a touch persnickety about her furniture."

  I leaned against the Galaxy and watched Lucky bounce around like a kindergartner at recess. "Look, I'm not saying Paradise is not completely without charm but—"

  "You can fix this trailer up," Asa said. "Like brand-new."

  "Maybe not brand-new," Rose said. "But new enough. We'll help you and maybe we can get some of the other women in the park to help."

  "And I'll go see if Charlie Lundy will help with the moving," Asa said. "Greta, his wife, just had a baby, but he might be free. Matter of fact, he might like the notion of getting out and helping."

  "What do you say, Charlotte?" Rose said. "Shame for you to drive all the way up here just to turn back around. And look at Lucky. He kind of likes it here."

  I looked in time to see Lucky pee on a tree. "He does seem happy."

  "Then it's settled," Asa said. "You'll stay?"

  "On a trial basis. And just so long as I don't have any more raccoons."

  Rose raised her hands to the sky and said, "Thank you, Jesus."

  I felt my eyes widen, having never heard or seen anyone thank the Lord out loud except in church. I called Lucky over to me. I rubbed behind his ears and patted his side.

  "What do you say, boy? Want to stay?"

  He barked and I looked into his eyes and saw a twinkle that outshone the dismalness of my 1958 Vindar.

  5

  The three of us and Lucky stood in the living room. I didn't know what they were thinking, but I felt as though I was staring down a very deep and very black hole.

  "Where do we even start?" I asked. "Ordinarily, I'd offer you coffee and pie, but I don't believe I can even roll out crust on that counter or bake a decent pie in that oven."

  Asa went to the kitchen and pulled open the oven door. He closed it immediately. "Yep, you need a new stove."

  "It's impossible," I said. "Maybe I should just try to resell it."

  Asa shook his head and looked at his feet. "You can try, but I doubt you'll find a buyer, especially this time of year, without taking a huge loss."

  This time I looked to the ceiling, with tears in my eyes, and said in my head, Oh, Herman. Tell me what to do.

  "Now, now," Rose said. "We'll take it one room at a time. Let's start in the bedroom so you have a place to sleep while we're fixing things up."

  The thought made my stomach churn as I imagined my toes gnawed to bloody stumps by raccoons in the night.

  "Don't worry about meals," Rose said. "I can cook and you can shower at my place."

  "The bathroom," I said. "I haven't even looked—"

  "Don't go near there," Asa said as he closed the bathroom door. "It's a little scary."

  "Maybe it would be better if I just go to the Bee and Bee for a few nights."

  Rose heaved a great sigh. "As much as I hate to say this, maybe you're right. Lucky can sleep at Asa's."

  I looked around. "Where is Asa? He was just here."

  "He probably went around back to turn on your electric and get you some heat in here. Once these tin cans warm up, they're pretty cozy."

  I stood in the middle of the living room and started to cry again—this time angry at the tears that ran like Niagara Falls."Do you really think we can make this dump livable?"

  "Now, don't cry, Charlotte. You'll see. It'll be okay." She patted my back.

  I snuffed. "Okay, but . . . but can I ask one favor?"

  Rose nodded.

  "I really hate this carpet. It is the ugliest darn thing I have ever seen in my life. I can live with many things, but a filthy chartreuse shag rug is not one of them."

  Rose laughed. "I don't blame you one bit. That rug has definitely been beaten with an ugly stick. A big ugly stick."

  I took a tissue from my purse and wiped my nose and laughed.

  "Maybe the kitchen would be a better place to start," Rose said. "The floor just needs some scrubbing, and the ceiling's not half bad in there."

  "No," I said. "It's all bad."

  "Now, now, you just need to look for the silver lining. Every cloud has one, you know."

  The kitchen, if you could call it that, seemed like it was about four feet by four feet. A single light fixture with exposed wiring, attached by two screws to the ceiling, gave the place a kind of death-row ambience. "I suppose some pretty curtains in that window would dress it up a bit and maybe some fresh paint on the cabinets and a few new lighting fixtures."

  "Now you're talking, honey. And I have the perfect macramé plant hanger I'll give to you. Maybe a sprawling rhododendron?"

  I felt my eyes roll nearly out of their sockets but I was too distracted by the sudden odd noises, the whooshing and tapping of metal, to comment. "What's that?"

  "Trailer noises," Rose said. "Asa will have the heat up any minute."

  "Excuse me for asking, but what happened to Asa's arm?" I just came right out and asked.

  Rose swallowed. "You mean his missing arm?"

  "Mm."

  "He blew it off playing with a stick of dynamite when he was about fifteen."

  I cringed at the thought of his arm severing from his elbow all torn and bloody and—I stopped thinking. "My goodness" was all I could say.

  "He's okay about it now, though. Most of the time anyway."

  "The pain must have been excruciating," I said.

  "Well, you can talk to Asa about that. Fortunately, he was knocked unconscious and claims he never felt a thing. Not a thing. At least not right off. He says he didn't feel the pain until it was all over."
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  "That's true with a lot of things, I suppose," I said.

  Rose looked at me in a way that made me think she recognized something in what I said.

  Lucky leaped up on me again and I scratched his ears."Would it be all right if I just let him outside?"

  "Sure," Rose said. "As long as you trust him not to run away."

  Lucky barked and wagged his stubby tail.

  "Nah, he'll stick around."

  "Did you bring any cleaning supplies?" Rose asked. "If not I got—"

  "Yes, I did. In the Little Big Guy—the other little trailer I used to move me here. You might need to help me lift some stuff out of the way. Not enough room in that thing for a gnat to take a breath."

  At first I felt skittish letting Rose help me clean. But there was something about this woman that made me think she and I were supposed to be friends. I had never thought much about destiny. Destiny was something reserved for special people, people with a calling like Teddy Roosevelt and Susan B. Anthony. Charlotte Figg didn't deserve anything as grand as destiny. But standing next to Rose that day I had the feeling that destiny belonged to all of us, even if it was a beaten up 1958 Vindar in a rundown trailer park.

  The trailer warmed as the heat began to rise. It smelled like melting crayons. "You'll get used to the odor, Charlotte. It goes away after a while."

  "It's the other smells that bother me," I said. "Will they ever go away?"

  "Sure," Rose said. "I got some incense down at my place that I'll give you."

  Later, we finished mopping the kitchen floor and discovered that it was actually the most delightful shade of sky blue."I can live with this floor," I said.

  "That's the ticket," Rose said. She wiped perspiration from her forehead. "It's getting downright hot in here now."

  "Why don't you take off that heavy sweater?"

  She pulled it tighter around her. "I'm okay with it on."

  I gave her a funny look because it didn't make any sense to me except to think that she was hiding something under that sweater.

  We carried the bucket of dirty water outside and dumped it on the yew bush. "I've been meaning to ask you," I said. "Is there something wrong with Mrs. Wrinkel?"

  "Suzy?" Rose said. "Why do you ask?"

  "She seems sad."

  Rose nodded and grabbed the bucket. "Let's tackle the walls."

  "Did I ask something off-limits?"

  "No, it's just that, well, no one knows for sure. Except maybe Asa."

  Asa came into the trailer before I could comment. "You're all hooked up, Charlotte. Let's take a look at your appliances now."

  He pulled opened the refrigerator, and my goodness what a mess was inside. It smelled so bad that it knocked me back. I covered my nose and mouth. "Just haul it out for me, Asa," I said through my fingers. "I'll purchase new appliances tomorrow."

  "Good idea. I know a guy in Shoops. He'll give you a good deal."

  Rose stood near the bay window. I could almost see the gears of her mind working as she surveyed the place. I was glad hers worked because mine had about run out of grease. We worked for about another hour and then I called it quits.

  "I think we've done enough for one day," I said. "I'm pooped."

  "Sounds good," Rose said. "I'm hungry anyway."

  "Are you heading into Shoops?" Asa asked.

  "Yes. I'll stay at the Bee and Bee. Can Lucky spend the night with you?"

  Lucky, who had found a comfy spot near the heat, barked.

  "Sure," Asa said. "Come on, boy. It'll be fun."

  I stood on the deck in the shivering cold and watched Lucky meander down the street with Asa. I missed him already. He turned around once and smiled and I knew he would be okay.

  The Bee and Bee, a delightful Victorian house that sat like a queen on a corner lot, made me homesick. But I was just too tuckered out to entertain the notion for long. Sheila, the woman who owned the place, was one of the sweetest people I had ever met in my life. She served me a Yankee pot roast dinner with butter pecan ice cream for dessert. Then she brought tea to my room in a silver pot she claimed was made by Paul Revere. By nine o'clock utter exhaustion had set in and all I wanted to do was sleep. But first, I called Mother from the front desk, just to let her know I had arrived in Paradise safe and sound.

  "Sweetheart," she said, "are you sure you're happy?"

  "I am, Mother. The trailer is lovely." I lied. I had to.

  "If you say so, dear. I just can't understand it though. You had a perfectly nice home in Philadelphia, bought and paid for."

  "So is my trailer."

  "Was it money, Charlotte? Did you need money?"

  "No, Mother. Just a change. A chance to do something else."

  "What else? There is nothing else for you."

  "What is that supposed to mean?"

  "It just means that you made your bed twenty-six years ago when you married Herman and now look. You're living in a trailer—a trailer. What can you do in a trailer?" I could see her clutch her chest in anticipation of a heart attack.

  "I'm not sure what I can do here yet. I just have a feeling that I'm supposed to do something."

  "Feelings don't pay the bills."

  "I won't have any trouble paying my bills. Good night, Mother."

  Rose, Asa, and I worked like ants building a nest over the next four days, but it was the most magical experience of my life. We nailed and painted and scrubbed 'til our knuckles were raw. My furniture, pictures, dishes, and cups fell into place like they were meant to live here all along. My couch fit perfectly under the bay window in the living room. Herman's La-Z-Boy sat snug in a corner. Lucky liked it just fine. My Tiffany lamp sat perfectly on an oak table and cast just exactly the correct amount of light. Asa connected my TV to the antenna and installed my new refrigerator and stove—all with just one arm—after the delivery men set them in place. Asa was amazing and I told him so.

  "I have never seen a one-armed man work before, and I've got to tell you that I am impressed. You're incredible."

  "Well, thank you. I try not to let it bother me." He winked.

  "That's right," Rose said. "He can do anything a man with two arms can do except tie his own shoelaces." The poignancy of that truth shot clear through my heart.

  "If my Herman had lost his arm in some bizarre Fuller Brush accident, he would have taken to his bed forever."

  "Really," Asa said. "Life is just as easy with one arm; just have to make some adjustments."

  "That's my point," I said. "Herman was not a good adjuster."

  The sweet-smelling incense that Rose brought over masked the lingering bad odors. I set the smoldering sticks in the kitchen, living room, bathroom, and bedrooms. I thought I might have had trouble sleeping those first few nights, but I was so dog-tired at the end of the day, I climbed into my bed each night and fell instantly asleep.

  Fergus Wrinkel only came around once, but he was nice enough and helped Asa and Charlie Lundy haul my mattress and sofa inside. I liked Charlie. He was one of those strong, silent types. He simply came and helped and then left without even taking me up on my offer of coffee or the Budweiser I brought from Shoops. Asa worked okay with Fergus but I detected a definite tension between them.

  "How come you dislike Fergus so much?" I finally asked after the hard work was finished.

  Asa clammed up tighter than a tick on Lucky's back. "I just don't like the man and that's all I can say on the subject."

  "Okay, I didn't mean to pry."

  "I'll be going now," he said. "If you need anything, call me."

  "You won't get him to talk about it," Rose said. "Some things are better left alone."

  She fell into my small rocker tired but satisfied. "This is a job well done. It looks great in here."

  It still needed a few repairs—the ceiling mostly—but all in all I had to agree. The trailer was starting to look and feel like home.

  Rose fanned her face with her hands.

  "Why won't you take that sweater off?" I aske
d. "You haven't taken it off in the five days I've been here. Are you hiding something? I mean, does it have something to do with those wispy vines on your hands?"

  "Tattoos," Rose said.

  "Well, I know that, Rose. I am not a dummy. Are you ashamed of them?"

  "Me? No. I just wasn't sure how you'd take it, and I didn't want to rattle your nerves any more than they already were."

  "Goodness gracious, Rose, I've seen bugs the size of my Galaxy crawl out from under the kitchen cabinets, had raccoons scamper between my legs, scrubbed mold that would have shocked Louis Pasteur, and you're worried a couple of little tattoos will upset me?"

  Rose laughed. "You know, you're right. If this place didn't send you running back to Philly, then I guess this won't."

  She removed her sweater and revealed a work of tattoo art on her arms and neck fresh from the Sistine Chapel ceiling. It looked as though she had the entire redemption story etched into her body within the curves and sinews of her wrists and forearms and biceps clear up and around her throat. I took a closer look and saw deep scars, pink and white and wrinkled, under the images of three crosses and an empty cave that looked like a tomb. I took two steps back.

  "Now, you're sure they don't bother you?" she asked."Because I can put the sweater back on."

  Well, yes, as a matter of fact, they did. But I smiled. "How impressive," I said. "I don't think I've seen that many pictures on one body in my whole entire life. If my Herman was here, he'd say you were nuts, insane, probably even try to sell you some Fuller Brush Tattoo Remover if they made such a thing, but me? No, I'm fine. Curious, but fine. I mean, there must be a reason. Why in the world would you have done such a thing?"

  Rose looked deep into my eyes. "It's a long story, Charlotte."

  "I'm not going anywhere."

  Rose lightly touched her forearm. "Now's not the time. Suffice it to say that redemption comes to people in many different ways."

  6

  About two weeks after I was finally settled a gunshot blast startled me out of a sound sleep—leastways I figured it was a shotgun blast, having never really heard one before. In any case, it was not a usual sound for six o'clock in the morning. Lucky barked to beat the band and nearly hauled me out of bed to see what was happening. I pulled on my robe and stayed low just in case a crazed madman was running around outside shooting up Paradise and a stray bullet might come whizzing through my bedroom window.