Can't Wait to Get to Heaven (30 page)

BOOK: Can't Wait to Get to Heaven
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The Sunset Club

9:02
PM

T
hat night everyone had gone home after watching the sunset, except Tot and Elner, who were still sitting in the side yard talking about the good old days. Elner asked Tot, “Do you remember that maple syrup that used to come in a little tin house, looked like a cabin?”

“Oh yeah. And remember that three-in-one rainbow, pink and blue and white coconut candy? And that brown bread that came in a can?

“Hell,” said Tot, “I’m so old I still remember learning to read from those little Dick and Jane books they used to have. I guess old Dick and Jane are headed for the old folks’ home now…along with Nancy Drew, and the Rover boys. Little Orphan Annie must be a hundred and eight by now.”

Elner looked over. “Hey, Tot, I have a question for you. Do you ever have any regrets in life?”

Tot looked at her as though she had just lost her mind. “Regrets? Me? Oh, other than having an alcoholic for a father and an insane woman for a mother, marrying James Whooten, the biggest fool on the earth, and breeding two mutants, then marrying another man who dropped dead on our honeymoon…no, why?”

Elner laughed. “No, honey, I mean things you always wanted to do and didn’t do. I realized I never got to go to Dollywood and I was sad about it, but then, when I had the chance, I went, so now I can die without any regrets.”

“Well, it’s too late for me,” Tot said, taking another sip out of her beer. “My ship has sailed and sunk a long time ago.”

“Now, Tot, that’s just not true, honey. It’s never too late. Look at Norma, starting a brand-new career late in life.”

“I don’t want a brand-new career. I hate the old one, why would I want a new one?”

“You know, Tot, I haven’t told anybody else this, but being dead sort of puts things in perspective, and you need to try and enjoy your life and do things you always wanted to do before it’s too late. Take it from me.”

“I would, but there’s not anything I always wanted to do.”

“Oh, I’ll bet there is, Tot. You just wait and see. One day you’ll find something.”

“Well, it won’t be some man, I can tell you that. You were lucky. Will Shimfissle was a sweet man and just crazy about you. Everybody could see that. My James was just plain crazy.”

Learning the Ropes

3:28
PM

B
everly Cortwright and Norma were riding around about twenty miles south of town, looking for property, when Beverly spied an obviously homemade
HOUSE FOR SALE
sign nailed to a fence. Beverly’s eyes lit up. “Look at that, Norma.” She quickly turned the car around and drove back up to the fence and stopped. Down a long driveway and set on a pretty pine tree lot stood a little neat brick house that looked to be in pretty good shape. Beverly was excited. This house must have just gone on the market in the last few days, because it had not yet appeared in the multiple listings book. Beverly read that thing every morning like a racing form. She knew the details of every property listed, and most of the time had seen the place before the realtor’s open house. She was a master at getting in to see the listings before anyone else, and today was no exception. Norma was still a greenhorn and still a little uncomfortable barging into people’s homes, but not Beverly. Before Norma knew it, Beverly had driven up the driveway, stopped in front of the house, and was busy rummaging through her large purse for her tape measure and camera. She always had the purse with her wherever she went in case of an unexpected real estate spotting. Beverly was always prepared.

“Come on. We need to see this, Norma,” she said as she got out of the car.

“But shouldn’t we call first?” said Norma as she reluctantly got out of her side of the car.

“No, I find it’s best not to,” Beverly said as she walked up and pushed the doorbell. “You’ll find out soon enough, Norma. In this market, you can’t stand on ceremony.”

She pushed the bell again and leaned down and looked through a window.

“Oh, here comes somebody.”

An older man opened the door, and they could hear the sounds of a football game on the television set inside the house.

“Can I help you?” he said.

Beverly immediately flashed her two-in-one surefire real estate smile, apologetic yet friendly at the same time. “Hi. I’m Beverly Cortwright and this is my friend Norma. We are so sorry to bother you, I know this is a terrible thing to do to you on a Saturday, but if it’s at all possible, we would just love to take a quick peek at your house. I said to Norma, this is one of the cutest houses I’ve seen. It is just adorable, and if you will just let us run in and take a look, I promise we won’t be but just a few minutes.”

The man was hesitant. “Well, it’s kind of a mess right now, and my wife is not home.”

But Beverly, the old pro, had already stepped inside the door. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, we’re used to that, we just want to see the layout, and take a few pictures.”

The man reluctantly said, “Well, if you want to, I guess it’s all right.”

“Oh, thank you so much, you just go back to your game and don’t pay any attention to us,” she said as she headed toward the kitchen.

“Don’t you want me to show you around?”

“No, you just get on back to what you were doing.”

“All right, then,” he said.

Beverly was a woman on a mission; within ten minutes they had covered the entire house and taken pictures of each room. After Beverly had finished measuring the second bedroom, she said to Norma, who was taking notes, “Twelve by ten, small closet, wall between could be knocked out.” After she had flushed the toilet and run the water in the bathtub, shower, and bathroom sink, she said, “Water pressure’s good but I don’t like that tile.” As she walked, she threw comments over her shoulder at Norma. “Hate the fake wood paneling. Nice double-hung windows throughout. Original floors. Kitchen needs updating.” When they were ready to leave, Beverly stuck her head inside the den and addressed the man in the BarcaLounger. “We’re done, but can I ask you a few quick things?”

The man turned down the volume and said, “Sure.”

“Are you on septic or sewer?”

“Septic.”

“When was the house built?”

“1958.”

“How much land do you have here?”

“About five acres.”

“Ah, and do you know if it could be subdivided or not?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t.”

“Well, thank you so much. Oh, wait a minute, I almost forgot the most important thing, how much are you asking?”

The man looked puzzled. “For what?”

“The house.”

“The house? This house isn’t for sale.”

Now Beverly was confused. “Has it already sold?”

“No.”

“Then why do you still have the sign up?”

“What sign?”

“The sign on the fence out there.”

The man looked at her kind of funny and said, “Lady, that sign says
HORSE FOR SALE.

         

As they drove out, they took another look at the sign. It did in fact say
HORSE FOR SALE.

Norma was horrified at what they had done. “Oh my God, that poor man, he must have thought we were crazy, running through his house like that. Here we tromped all through his house, opened closets and everything. Flushed the toilets, opened all the kitchen drawers. It’s a wonder he didn’t call the police on us.”

Beverly said, “I guess I was in such a real estate frenzy I’m starting to hallucinate. But look at it this way, Norma, at least he has my card and if he ever does decide to sell, we got the jump on RE/MAX.”

“Still, I feel terrible, that poor man. He was so nice.”

“Yes, he was, but he can afford to be, he’s not in the real estate business. You know what they say, don’t you, Norma? Real estate agents never die, they just remain in escrow forever. Isn’t that a good one? I made that up myself.”

No two ways about it, Norma was learning the business from the bottom up.

A Visitor for Elner

12:48
PM

O
ver the past months, Mrs. McWilliams, La Shawnda’s mother, and Elner had written each other several times, and today La Shawnda had driven her mother all the way to Elmwood Springs for a visit. When they arrived at Elner’s house, she was waiting on the front porch to greet them.

“Hey, Mrs. McWilliams, you made it,” she said to the small black lady, who scurried up the sidewalk toward her, grinning from ear to ear and carrying a large black-and-white striped hat box with a caramel cake inside.

“I did,” she said, “and I made us a cake!”

They had a nice long visit and between the three of them ate most of the cake that the old lady had made, and it was almost as good as Dorothy’s.

Later, as they were sitting out on the porch, Mrs. McWilliams said to Elner, “I’m so glad we got to come out today. I’m going to be moving back home tomorrow, back to Arkansas, but I wanted to meet the cake lady before I went.”

“Well, I’m so glad you did too. Us old country women have to stick together. These youngsters don’t know what it’s like to wake up and hear the birds, do they?”

“No, they don’t…. All the young want is to listen to all that nasty hippity hop music and run their cars up and down the road day and night.” She looked over at her daughter and said, “I’ll miss my baby here, but I’ll be so glad to be home.”

La Shawnda said, “I’ll come and visit you, Momma.”

“I hope you do.”

Mrs. McWilliams looked out in the side yard and remarked, “That’s a mighty fine fig tree you got out there, Mrs. Shimfissle.”

Elner looked at it and smiled. “It is, isn’t it?”

As the two visitors got up to leave, Mrs. McWilliams said, “I hope I get to see you again someday.”

“Oh, you will,” said Elner.

Going Professional

11:08
AM

S
ix months later, after Norma had passed her real estate exam and gotten her license, Beverly told Norma that they needed a picture to put in the office brochure. A few days later Norma brought in the picture she had had made at Wal-Mart, where she was wearing her bright red jacket with the emblem and a black turtleneck sweater.

Norma thought it looked very professional, but Beverly looked at it and said, “This is nice, but you don’t want just an ordinary pose, you need a photo that will grab people, a gimmick, a hook, something to set you apart.” Beverly had her photo made with her in a picture hat, holding her two pet ferrets, Joan and Melissa, with the caption “Let Us Ferret Out a New Home for You.”

But Norma was at a loss. She told Macky, “I’m as dull as a dishwasher,” as she flipped through the multiple listings looking for ideas for a professional picture. A lot of agents had their pictures taken with them talking on a phone, one had her picture with a cello, a lot had their dogs, another one was standing by an antique car, and somebody named Wade had his picture made at a castle somewhere. It could have been made at Disneyland. It was that picture that sparked the idea for Norma. The next day, wearing her red jacket, she went over to Aunt Elner’s yard with Macky and she stood by the birdhouse that Luther had made Aunt Elner, and smiled.

         

LOOKING FOR A HOME?

CALL NORMA

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