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From Another Planet
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The celebration was getting a little weirder every year
of TheColumnists.com
Holidays, family
gatherings, big, fancy dinners. Those are the times I enjoyed
the most as a child, and I still do. Silly me, I thought everyone
felt that way. No, they don’t. I’d say I learned that
the hard way.
“Bill, please make arrangements to have Thanksgiving weekend
off this year. You know we’ll have both sides of our family
here, and I don’t want to have to worry about you being
called in to the site. Can you use your seniority and do that?”
I asked my husband.
“I doubt it," Bill replied. "My boss has already
made it known that he’s taking his family to the Islands
for that entire week. He gave us a very strict schedule that
can’t be changed. We’ll be held in violation of the
current contract if we do. I’ll be lucky to have even a
part of the day off.”
Damn! That means if his brother or my dad decide to go off on
one of their political tirades I’m left to suffer alone.
Once, just once, I’d like a peaceful atmosphere when they’re
both under the same roof.
“Could you at least meet everyone at the front door and
ask them to check their weapons? I refuse to serve alcohol to
any of our relatives--"
“Come on, now, Helen! It’s your bright idea to have
a big family affair, certainly not mine. My mother’s only
weapon is her damned imagination. And your dad and his booze!
I told you many times that I’m against it. Do you listen?
Oh, no. I had my fill of the whole bunch years ago,” and
he angrily threw down the paper he’d been reading.
“Look, why can’t we just have one family at a time
here? And why the whole weekend? We moved here to get a life
to ourselves, remember? Since when did all this family unity
come back into fashion for you?”
Now he was shaking, really getting upset, and I didn’t know
why.
“Honey, please. It’s been a couple of years since we
did this. You’re the one who always says you don’t
like seeing someone only at a wedding or funeral,” I reminded
him.
“You know damned well I meant my friends, not my family--no,
our families was what I meant. I made that clear, didn’t
I?”
“Your mother keeps after me about getting to see her grandchildren.
She keeps asking them if they’d like to spend a part of
their summer with her.”
“No! I refuse to let them be with her and those nutty, far-out
cronies of hers!”
“Then we’ll have to put up with her for a couple of
days. Can’t we do that?”
“Oh, God,” he groaned. “You really think your
family can go a whole day away from booze? Two days? Get real.”
“Please, do this for me. I promise to keep everyone happy
with good food. I’ll even take our mothers shopping. You
don’t have to drive. Take Dad and Ron to the Cigar Club.
They’ll both find willing victims to argue with. Dad can
have his brandy there, can’t he?”
Raising his hands, looking at the ceiling he asked, “Why
me, God? Why me?”
I spent the next couple of weeks in a frenzy of grocery shopping,
extra housecleaning, coaching our boys on their company manners.
The air was full of promise for family pleasantry. Living in
an area without any of my family was sometimes hard for me. Yes,
I had agreed it was best for us. Yes, Bill needed to move for
the good of his career. Yes, I enjoyed the big city entertainment.
Yes, I was getting lonesome for my childhood holiday times. The
boys needed to experience that, too. Well, it sounded like something
out of the Christmas cards and catalogues. Chalk one up for the
simple-minded wife with a short memory.
The big day came. Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, our
doorbell was not often quiet. The cleaned dining room drapes
were delivered and re-hung. All the delicacies were delivered,
along with a huge bill. I had an assembly line of pie building
and baking started in the kitchen. The boys were paring and coring
the apples for our favorite Waldorf salad. I was excited about
trying to duplicate my grandmother’s candied yams recipe.
The last time I tried that I nearly set fire to the kitchen while
browning the marshmallows on top of the yams. This time I’d
bypass that step.
Stripes, our cat, was meowing loudly demanding his share of whatever
I was cooking. Bert the dog had been banned to the back yard
in hopes he’d get over his gas pains before the whole gang
arrived. All was well in the household. Famous last words.
Ron came screeching into the driveway, loud music blasting out
of his radio speakers. “Hey, kids! Get out here and help
your favorite uncle carry in his stuff.”
The boys were out the door before he finished the command. Eddie
and Max had been anxiously watching for Uncle Ron all morning.
He never arrived without presents.
“Hey, sister-in-law, I’m here bearing gifts,”
he announced coming through the back door with shopping bags
clasped in his hands. “Where’s the coffee?”
Before I could hug him in welcome I saw two approaching cars;
both big, new and expensive. Bill’s mother (Lettie) was
close behind my parents, Jim and Pearl.
“Here, Ron, there’s the fresh coffee and here’s
your cup. Sorry, my hands are full of wet dressing mix.”
The boys were laughing, hugging both sets of grandparents, having
a grand time. Dad came through the door yelling, as usual, “Where’s
my coffee, girl?”
Now everybody was in the kitchen, hugging, shaking hands, loudly
greeting each other. I guess I had forgotten that none of our
Texas crowd could talk without shouting. Don’t get me wrong,
that doesn’t make them members of the majority.
“Good Lord, this coffee doesn’t taste right. It’s
raw,” Dad looked me accusingly.
“Raw? What’s raw coffee?” Eddie questioned his
grandfather.
“Jim, you knock it off. For once you can take it without
brandy.” Mom wasn’t much for drinking and she didn’t
really approve of Dad’s.
“Hells bells! Girl, you forget your ways? I would let you
have your brandy.”
“Dad, you know I won’t have alcohol in my home.”
“Pearl, this is your doing,” he accused.
“Say, Jim, you come by my room tonight and I’ll treat
you to a real drink.”
What? Ron knew better than that.
“Honey, we all decided you had enough work to do here. Ron
and I stopped down at the Anchorage Inn and got ourselves rooms.
My cat allergies, you know,” Lettie explained, coughing
right on cue.
“Why? You knew we’re ready for you here.” How
does one not show relief under such circumstances?
The front door suddenly opened and in walked Bill. He was earlier
than usual. Greetings, hugs and back slapping all over again.
The boys were jumping up and down, wanting Uncle Ron to dole
out the gifts. Mom, Lettie and I were surprised with big boxes
of chocolates. Bill and Dad opened envelopes to find gift certificates
to this city’s largest sporting goods store. Eddie and Max
were amazed by the robots and remote controls.
Our evening meal was two different large pizzas and salad. Tomorrow
and the next day would be filled with a feast of rich foods.
We eventually sat down to munch and laugh We women removed ourselves
to the family room and left the living room to the men and their
obnoxious cigars.
Everyone arrived the next day in time to help with finishing
our meal preparation and serving. All was mellow–until Ron
proudly told us he was giving his support to Councilman Reed
in the upcoming election back home. The peace was shattered.
Dad’s face got red with anger. Mom was oblivious. Lettie
smiled proudly and Bill gave his full attention to his meal.
I was holding my breath. The boys kept right on eating, totally
unaware of the tension.
“That moron? You’re supporting him? What the hell happened
to your brain? He shuttled every cent into his own company in
that big construction project! He robbed us blind, that’s
what he did!”
“He’s a very good businessman, Jim. He organizes things
better than anyone,” Ron beamed.
“The hell he did!” boomed Dad, clutching a water glass
that I feared he’d crush.
“Boys, help me clear this table now. Why don’t you
all go into the other room and I’ll bring coffee?”
I needed to beat a hasty retreat to my quiet kitchen. The men
got up, still arguing. Both women joined us in the kitchen, wanting
to help with loading the dishwasher. I made sure we didn’t
talk about what we’d just escaped. Afterwards we joined
the men, coffee in tow.
Things had taken a quiet turn, thank goodness. We talked about
the boys’ school sports program. Dad beamed as he predicted
his grandsons would go on to become star football players for
the NFL. Bill and I could smile and agree with him.
Mom perked up and asked, “What are your plans for Christmas?
Why don’t you come home this year?”
Bill quickly answered that we had promised the boys a trip to
Disneyland for their school break. Lettie spoke up to say she’d
been planning to take the boys there and was disappointed that
we would beat her to it.
“I can’t plan to see you this Christmas. Most likely
I’ll be leaving for Enoch. I can’t be sure, but I wouldn’t
be surprised,” Lettie informed us.
All eyes, except Bill’s, turned to her. She was smiling
sweetly at us. “Enoch? Enoch what?” I asked.
“They tell me it’s past time for my home visit and
checkup. I’ve got to be ready when they come for me.”
Still smiling, sipping her coffee, while we all looked puzzled.
Except Bill. He was looking first at the walls, now the ceiling.
“Lettie,” I said, “Enoch where?”
“My home. Planet Enoch. I need to go back.”
“Planet? What are you talking about?” I was more than
a little bit stunned.
“The planet Enoch, where my people are. Don’t you know?”
No matter how much I glared at Bill, he wouldn’t make eye
contact. I half expected him to whistle and drag his toes in
the dust, so to speak. I looked at Ron and he was sitting quietly
at attention, just like always when Lettie spoke. Dad was too
shocked to speak. Mom was glued to her chair, not making a sound.
The boys had gone to their room to get into their new world of
robots.
“No, I don’t know. What on earth are you talking about?”
“There’s no reason for you to get upset. Enoch is my
home planet. I’m needed there they tell me. It’s time
for my checkup, too. Eventually I’ll return there to stay.
It’s the best place for me. I’ll never get old. I won’t
ever be sick. Enochians live forever there.”
Good grief! She had completely taken leave of her senses. Is
that what living alone did to her?
“You say ‘they’re coming for you.’ How and
when will that happen?”
“Oh, not in the usual way. I’ll be going with them
in their rocket ship, space ship, whatever they call it.”
I still couldn’t get Bill’s attention.
“When do you expect this to happen?”
“I won’t know until they come to my door and tell me
it’s time.”
“Will you call us? How long do you intend to be gone?”
“I may not have time to call you. They are in charge, not
me.”
“Now, wait. I insist that you have to leave us a written
note saying who came, where you went, and how long you’ll
be gone.”
“Whatever for? I just told you what will happen.”
"Oh, no. If I get a message from the sheriff that you’ve
gone missing, and I tell them --you can’t put us in a position
like that. They’ll have people here digging up our basement
looking for your body. When they don’t find you there, they’ll
head for all my flower beds and dig them up. Oh, no, you can’t
do that to us. I insist that you put it in writing.”
Lettie laughed, dismissing me as she would a child. Dad loudly
suggested that the men of the family watch a football game. Mom
came out of her stupor and asked me to make some more coffee.
That’s when I said we women would go to the family room.
“Don’t criticize me for my family. I told you years
ago my mother is not of this world, but would you listen?”
This began as soon as Bill’s brother and mother left us
for their motel.
“Are you saying you believe her I’m-an-alien-from-another-planet
story?”
“Lord, no. I mean she lives in a world of her own that she
created years ago. That’s her defense against reality. You
know I don’t believe she’s from another planet.”
“Was this news to you? You never heard about relatives on
this Enoch place before?”
“No, it’s a figment of her wild imagination. Either
that or some weird herb she’s on now. Don’t let it
bother you. After all, you were warned. You didn’t see me
step in between your Dad and Ron over their politics, did you?
This family thing was your idea, not mine.”
“Yeah, and I noticed you wouldn’t even look at me.
What was that?”
“Nothing. I learned to ignore her when I was a little kid.
I didn’t want to talk about it.”
The next morning we were told by phone that Ron and Lettie both
had come down with a sudden case of flu. Rather than subject
anyone else to it, they chose to rest there and return home the
next day. Dad and Bill had a good time at the Cigar Club. Mom
and I hit the sales at the mall.
All right, I’m cured, at least for a couple of years. Bill
and I called a truce about having all the family here at the
same time. From now on we’ll go home, if we can, stay at
a motel and spend time separately with both of them. The boys
nor the grandparents will be deprived of anything.
No, Lettie didn’t go to Enoch. As far as we know, anyway.
She is planning to visit Peru and the ancient religious sacrificial
sites and temples. Maybe Ron will go with her and settle their
political problems, whatever they may be. Fine by me.
©2005 by Patricia
J. Geister. The illustration is from IMSI's Master Clips Collection,
1895 Francisco Blvd. E., San Rafael, CA, 94901-5506, USA. This
column first posted on Nov. 14, 2005.
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