3A
| If I remember anything, I will choose to remember Karl sorting through a myriad of parts: parts illogical to him as to purpose but identical ones he sorted, set in rows in anticipation ready to provide at his father's bidding. This one with a flat head, pointing to the drawings, that bracket,
this screw, a dowel, a round lock. I need four, I need two,
no, the flat head like this, not the round one. It goes here, that goes there, oops, dropped it, where did it go?Left side, right side,
top side, bottom. Find a shelf like this pointing
to the drawings. Slowly we assembled, retracing steps when we made a mistake. Karl concentrated and was generally right in his selection of parts from a myriad
of parts. 10 minutes to bedtime! We struggled with the drawings. Nails!
How come they haven't figured out a better connection? Nails! 5 minutes, 4 minutes, 3 minutes, countdown ticking Bedtime! Karl and I left 3A, down the back stairs, across the lobby and up the elevator to 8H and a
bath, a book and to bed. I left that job to Susan Returning down the elevator, Across the lobby Up the back stairs to Eric banging nails into
the back; bang! bang! bang! echoing through the empty rooms, hopefully not bothering those above, below and across the hall. bang! bang! bang! I guess we survived their wrath, if any. I never heard sounds from above, below or
across the hall. Outside was another matter By now I was inured to the busses screeching stopping, beeping starting again only to stop at the signal. Cars, taxies, trucks, the boys from across the street with their shouts and boom boxes sirens; police and ambulances and fire trucks then there were the garbage trucks. never quiet with all the windows open, the cooling breeze rushing through from west to east and one
day from east to west as the weather stormed. My favorite spot was at the living room windows over Amsterdam, watching the traffic, the boys, the girls, the world rushing by while sipping a Corona Extra, relaxing after hours of scraping and painting and fixing and building. They need a small table here with two chairs where they can sip a Corona Extra at the end of the frantic day (every day is
frantic in their lives) and soothe their consciences as I soothed my muscles and aches and pains each evening. Plus, when I visit, I would choose to sit there.
Even the outside noises were soothing compared to my two grandchildren all wound up groping and whining and ignoring, screaming and squirming responses, usually opposite the desired action or nos with the desired inaction. Any meal is nightmarish I sit back quietly consuming my fare while all sorts of going ons occur around me. I manage age diminishing patience or maybe I never had it. "I have this much energy" says Kathryn, demonstrating with her hands
but I believe she has two times two that much energy. And for Karl, two times two again. I sit in my favorite spot in the window. The flowers in my yard, although fading in the summer sun, delight my senses. The deafening roar of silence jars my mind As I contemplate what I remember of co-op 3A. What I remember, what I choose to remember is Karl, sitting with his father and me, sorting through a myriad of strange parts, carefully selecting the right ones as bid. Yes, that will be my reward. |
© July, 2004