Rain pounds mercilessly against the front windshield of the Uhaul. Ellen is carefully peering between the raindrops trying to keep the large loaded truck within the white lines of the highway with a sulking Anne at her side thoughtfully petting Samuel, the family dog, who brings some comfort to the melancholy day.
They have been traveling in close cramped quarters for nearly two full days. There is no room to stretch beyond moving a small travel pillow from one side of Anne’s head to the other. Samuel has stationed himself between them and the dashboard on his brown polka-dot pillow.
“How much longer?” whines Anne.
“I just told you about ten minutes ago. Watch the mile markers - they go in order. We’re almost there. I need to get out and stretch my legs and Samuel probably needs a walk. I think Lady Gaga needs a break too.” returns a yawning Ellen as she moves her right arm above her head to stretch and moves her neck side to side.
Mrs. Dashing and Maggie have flown ahead and will meet them at the quarters for the Devon corps which have been empty for a couple of years due to the previous sergeants resigning and not having anyone to fill in during the interim.
As they climb back into the truck after taking a short break at the new rest stop at the state boarder line, the large green and white trimmed sign reads 142 miles to their destination. “Two more hours of travel in the tin can” moans Anne to herself while reluctantly placing ear phones in her ears to listen to her most recent downloaded music.
The green square neighborhood sign reads “3rd Street” in large white letters. Anne reaches for her Evo and reads the text that it is a blue house that sets on the corner of 3rd and Barton Park.
As they pull up to the driveway, blue doesn’t quite fit the description. The front paneling is a teal blue but the rest of the house is in shades of sand, fire engine red, burnt orange and melon green that have been painted over the years but the pealing paint has now revealed the colors of different generations.
“It looks like every season someone decided to paint the house but got too tired to finish and ran out of paint before the next section could be started” remarks Anne as they pull up to the curb.
The three foot weeds are overwhelming the closed and boarded up windows that 2 by 4s have warned strangers to keep out.
Colorful spray can graffiti of unreadable names marks the red bricks on the left side of the house. The front yard has many patches of brown dirt, sharp triangular greenery, and feather-like dandelions. The sidewalk is cracked in multiple places with a swarm of black ants circling in their habitation. There are no flowers or plants hanging from the porch like they were use to at home. But a large wasp next hangs in the corner of the weather beaten porch.
Looking up to the roof many black speckled tar tiles are missing from seasons of storms. The water gutters are draining their rust and resting detached in several places from around the house. It appears that the handful of unshielded windows have been used as target practice for b-b guns of the local neighborhood boys and have left a few remnants of successful aims.
The burnt orange wood trim is desperately faded and peeling, splinters seem evident even without a close-up view. One of the four rain warped steps leading up the front door is missing. Evidently the wood is broken and never replaced. The ripped wire screen hangs from one hinge and doesn’t quite match up to the framed door but rests at a peculiar angle on the rotten wooden porch. As they reach the front door, Anne is not sure but it appears to have some left over gray gum from duct tape on the door trim left over as if leaving its memorable remnants from a “condemned” sign.
This is not anything like the ‘home’ that they are use to which was a quite large five bedroom three story home in an upper middle class suburban neighborhood and faithfully maintained by a twice weekly lawn service.
Anne asks, “Do you think that we have the wrong address? I’ve never lived in a place like this before. Are you sure this is it?” She glances over to the drive way, the formerly white beat-up ten year old fifteen passenger van beams a faded red shield and address of the Devon corps. It is a collage of dents starting from its bumper, to the hood, to the side door, and then finally reaching the back end. Ellen turns to her and grabs her hand, “We’re here” reading Anne’s thoughts “Yes, it needs a little care but I’m quite sure that we will be able to make it quite beautiful again. It’s going to be all right, it has a lot of potential and looks full of character. God will take care of us. ”
Just then, Maggie as fast as she can runs out the door, “Where’s Samuel? Come here boy! I’ve missed you!” Samuel jumps out of the truck as quickly as his canine legs will take him and slobbers his giant tongue of love across Maggie’s face.
Ellen remarks”I don’t know how you can let that dog do that . . . Haven’t you missed us too?”
With childlike honestly Maggie answers “nah not really. I knew that I was going to see you. I liked having mom all to myself!”
“Girls! I am so glad to see you! I’ve been so worried about you traveling in the rain. How was your trip? Were you all right? Were you very tired? Do you need to get some rest? What would you like to do first?” inquires Mrs. Dashing dressed in black shorts and a mud green and gray flecked t-shirt with a large red shield and “Camp Pinewood” branded across the front and “Staff” clearly marked on the back.
Anne quickly states, “Love you mom” As she hugs her “I’d like a shower. I smell like Samuel and my hair is frizzy from all this humidity. Is it always this hot here? My makeup has disappeared within seconds. Which room is mine?”
“Well girls I don’t believe that they were quite clear on the size of the home. A porch has been screened in which was considered one of the bedrooms, but the screens have been ripped and there is no central air connection to the porch., but at least there is a large ceiling fan. There are basically two bedrooms besides the porch. Maggie will be sharing a room with me and both of you girls will share a room.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me! I can’t share a room with Ellen! She has to have everything perfect! Even her laundry from the dryer is folded! She irons everything! We’ll kill each other! No, no, no – this is not a good idea.”
“Would you rather share with Maggie and me?”
Grudgingly while pursing her lips “No . . . I guess I’ll suffer with Ellen . . .” as she flings her flip flops into the air to land where they may in the room.
Ellen with hands on hips skeptically scans the rooms around her. She asks if there are bookshelves for her large collection of literature which feels to everyone to have been most of what was painstakingly carried to the truck and complained about with agony by each member of the family. To which she hears, “No, not really. There is one three-shelved bookcase in the living room but one of the plywood shelves is broken.” When Mrs. Dashing sees Ellen’s look of despair, she responds sympathetically “We’ll see what we can do. Unfortunately, I have some more bad news, I’ve checked at the University and because of being a non-resident, the tuition has tripled for the semester. Your Army officer’s child grant will probably only cover a couple of classes each term until next year when you will be considered a resident.”
Ellen looks down at her hands and sighs, it is yet just another painful thing she must accept in the many changes that are occurring in her life at the moment.
“Good news though, the Majors Middletons are joining us for dinner and you can also meet Brigadier Jennings which we have heard so much about!”
Ellen optimistically considers “It will be good to meet some new friends and relatives. What time will they be here? What are we having for dinner? Do you need any help?”
Maggie intercedes before her mother can answer, “The fridge doesn’t work. The guy is coming next week to fix it. The gas stove tilts sideways too because of the sinking tile floor – it’s funny to look at . . . I wonder what made the floor that way. We’re having turkey sandwiches, salad – yuck!, potato chips and sodas that are in an ice chest on the porch right now. Do you know they say “pop” here instead of soda? Why would you ever call soda ‘pop’?”
Mrs. Dashing soothingly replies “Yes, that’s right but there are many other wonderful things about this place.” She moves over as if to be model on the ‘Price is Right’ and in a sing-song voice, “We have this beautiful fire place with a mantle.” And as if on cue, the right side of the mantle slips as vases of fake yellow plastic flowers clash to the floor. Anne busts up laughing. Mrs. Dashing looks as if she is about to cry but when hearing the loud giggles filling the room joins in on the fun and the four of them have a good laugh which relieves the tension for awhile.
While taking a break from unloading the rental truck, a high pitched squeal reaches out and spreads through the house, “Hello, hello, hello – anybody home? Come out, come out, wherever you are!” A stout woman in her late sixties with wild and unmanageable white curly hair jumps with glee in the doorway, “There you are! I found you!” running with her arms outstretched in front of her. She is wearing hot pink polyester shorts with a matching pink and fuchsia flowered top. Her pink canvas shoes are joined by rolled down to the ankle nylon knee-hi’s. Her hair is contained with a lemon yellow headband. Anne’s eyes are wide but she is too stunned to say anything. Maggie giggles and says, “I like your headband. I think that I have one just like it!”
”They’re great, aren’t they! They keep it all together” She exclaims while leaning down as if sharing a secret with Maggie and then she turns to the others, “Hi! My official name is Brigadier Jennings, but you can just call me Jennings – just Jennings (in a mock James Bond style) and a wide smile. Maggie returns, “I like you. You’re fun - so much better than my dopey sisters.”
Mrs. Dashing steps in front Maggie reaching for Jennings’ hand, “We’re glad to have you over. It’s so good to finally meet you. It’s been a busy week of unpacking but as you can see we’re finally settling into our new surroundings.”
Jennings turns to Ellen and Anne, “Now who are these girls? Are they married? I don’t see any rings. If not, they’re sure to find a husband here pretty soon. Or are you the type that doesn’t want to get married? I guess that’s ok too for some, but as for me I always enjoyed the company of a husband even if he did get on my nerves every time I looked at him.” Maggie and Anne share a sidelong glance and both start to giggle. Ellen warmly smiles and introduces herself and Anne who graciously extends her hand to greet Jennings.
“I think we all be fast friends. What do you think? Maybe we can find a husband for your mom too! There are plenty of bachelors in the area and if not one here, we can take a ride to the big city three hours away or go to Congress in the summer and see if one can be found.” Jennings explains and then knowingly winks at Mrs. Dashing. To which Mrs. Dashing blushes “Oh I’m sure we’ll be all right.”
“Oh, where are they? Seriously, they don’t know how to read a clock to save their life. I’m always telling them to hurry up but they think I’m speaking in a foreign language.” As Jennings continues her commentary the door bell rings.
Mrs. Dashing warmly greets her visitors, “John and Sue it is great to see you again. It’s been so many years, since we were children I believe John. It is good to have you back in the same territory again.” John and Mrs. Dashing hug with the knowledge and familiarity of the comfort of family.
Over much laughter and discussion the meal fades into late evening. It has been a good day for the Dashing family. The house makes its first movement into feeling like a home.
The next morning, stomps can be heard on each wooden step of the front porch. Jennings is at the front door at 6 am! “You-who is anybody up and awake? It’s past dawn, time to breathe the morning and feel the sunbeams dance upon your face.” Anne turns sleepily to a half-dazed Ellen while throwing her pillow at her “I wish Jennings would go somewhere else and dance with the sunbeams”.
Entering the room Jennings dances with delight “Up, Up, Up! Nothing better than a brisk morning walk to make you feel alive. Bring your Ipods - I promise that you won’t have to talk. Ellen and Anne grin to each other and climb meekly out of bed, grab some shorts and sneakers then head for the door with a waiting Jennings. Jennings has added a 70s rainbow headband to her bright orange costume with matching terrycloth wristbands. She notices that Anne is contemplating the attire and offers, “It was such a good deal. I got them at the thrift store. Hopefully they will have a matching set for you. I waited a long time to find these. Maybe I can let you borrow them sometime. What do you think?” Anne smiles kindly and links Jennings arm with her own. “I think that I am ready to walk now.”
The three pace the neighborhood as will become their daily ritual. The house gains some attention with minimal repairs and color. Small, familiar pictures hang on the wall and grandma’s crocheted earth toned blankets cover the donated couch with its own unique dents and faded recliners.
Anne asks Ellen every day if she has heard from Ted. Ellen has thought often of Ted. He is never far from her thought and memories. In quiet moments to her self, she reflects on past conversations and happier moments together. In a few short weeks Ted came to mean a great deal to her. His silence is at times unbearable but she keeps her feelings locked in within herself.
Anne asks, “Has Ted text or sent you a note today?” Ellen is quite for a moment, but to Anne the response always remains the same, “Not today but maybe tomorrow.” Anne can’t understand Ellen’s attitude. She thought that they were very close and Ted seemed really interested in Ellen. He’s the only person she’s ever seen Ellen even really respond to. Ted is smart and Ellen likes someone to challenge her with new ideas. He was always looking at her and talked to her all the time. It just doesn’t seem right that he is so silent and that Ellen hasn’t heard from him.
Maggie likes her new teacher at school. Finding a pal for lunch as been a bit difficult, but she finally met a girl with similar interests at school which has helped. It is a smaller class and she is a bit advanced for the topics that are currently discussed but she is making friends and enjoys not having difficult homework – perhaps a little too much.
One day Jennings walks in as she usually does while knocking on the door not to be let in but to announce her entrance “I have wonderful news!! Captain Brandon is coming back to town! He has just been appointed as the corps officer of Crestwood, the other corps in the city. He’ll be living not to far from your neighborhood but in the new subdivision a couple of miles away. He’s a widow and only 35! Girls, he’ll make someone a great husband!” Pointing her finger back and forth between her eyes and the girls with an upside down smirk states “Maybe you - Ellen or you - Anne. I hear Ellen’s taken by a secret love perhaps Anne would be the better choice. What do you think Anne?” Ellen drops her jaw and then glares at Anne. Anne shrugs her shoulders and raises one side of lip as if she doesn’t know what Jennings is talking about.
“What? I haven’t even met him. I could never be interested in someone that is that old! Ugh. No way. I’m only 21.” rebukes Anne “I might as well as enter the training school to find a husband. At least one might be my age.”
Just then there was a knock on the screen door that had been left opened in Jennings haste, Mrs. Dashing turns to see a handsome tanned man with a kind and gentle face standing with her cousin Major Middleton, “Oh. I’m sorry am I interrupting something?”
“Oh, no – don’t worry about it. We were just talking about you. Come on in.” explains Jennings.
“Hi! I’m Captain Brandon. I was just appointed to the Crestwood Corps. I hear we will be neighbors and working together” warmly shaking the hand of Mrs. Dashing.
“Let me introduce you to my daughters. This is Ellen, my oldest” Jennings interjects, “She’s taken might as well move on to the other one” to the giggles of Maggie and the scowl of Anne. Mrs. Dashing continues a little flustered, “This is my middle daughter Anne.” Captain Brandon’s eyes widen and the edges of his smile rise when he glances over to Anne but she stubbornly barely acknowledges his existence even while refusing to let anyone notice that she finds him also to be attractive. Mrs. Dashing continues, “And this is Maggie, my baby. She was just enrolled as a corps cadet this year.”
“Good to meet you. Hopefully I will be seeing a lot more of you.” Anne whispers to herself but loud enough for her mother to hear, “yeah, whatever”. Ellen backs up to the couch where Anne is conscientiously reading a fashion magazine and back hands her on the leg while smiling to everyone else in the room.
“Oh I see you like music too” as Captain Brandon makes his way to a stack of music piled in the corner “Who are you favorite composers?” For a moment, Anne’s eye lighten up and she responds, “Thomas Mack, Phil Laeger, Dorothy Gates, Bill Himes and there so many others but I don’t know if you would know them.”
“Oh I don’t know about that. I like all types of music and familiar with SA composers. I’ve attended the forum for many years now and enjoy writing my own music now and again.” Brandon shares while Anne adds “I like to play the piano, but there is not a piano here. Our other corps had a Steinway grand piano but this outpost only has a four octave electronic keyboard that sounds like an accordion. It doesn’t sound the same but at least I can practice.”
“I’ll bring some manuscripts over tomorrow that have been sent to me to review. Maybe you would like to play them?”
“Oh I’d love to. I like finding new music especially pieces that sound creative and original.” Anne enthusiastically responds.
“Do you play an instrument too?” inquires Brandon.
“Yes. I play the cornet and a little bit of guitar. Ellen plays the horn quite well and Maggie joins in on baritone. Mom will play the trombone once in awhile. Dad played the tuba. We kind-of had our own family band for awhile.”
“Well anytime you would like to come over to Crestwood and practice with the band and songsters, you are more than welcomed. It would be great to have you as my guests and stay for dinner too, if you would like to.” Eagerly responds Brandon.
“That sounds like fun. It would be good to get to know other Salvationists in the area command too. Thanks for inviting all of us” sincerely replies Anne.
For the evening Anne finally appears content causing great relief to everyone else in the household. She and Captain Brandon talk most of the evening about current trends in music and share different things they have each written.
The house begins to fill with music again.
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