Symby (13 page)

Read Symby Online

Authors: Steven Heitmeyer

BOOK: Symby
10.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Chapter 24

Spud arrived early at Burt's Hardware, as he always did. Rather than let himself in with his key, he waited outside with Snuffles for Burt and Thelma to arrive. When their truck pulled up, he could see puzzlement register on both of their faces. Snuffles had jumped off the wagon early on in the trip and had run in circles around Spud as he towed the wagon. Spud laughed and petted him throughout the remainder of the journey. He was enjoying the company. He was also looking forward to executing the idea that Snuffles had inspired. A small deception for the greater good would be required, but Spud was sure he was justified.

He greeted the two of them as they pulled up.

"Morning, Thelma. Morning, Burton," he said. "Looks like we've got another hot one today."

He helped Burton assist Thelma out of the truck, handing her cane to her when it was time for her to stand. When she steadied herself, she asked the question he had been anticipating.

"Whose dog is that?"

"That's Snuffles," replied Spud. "Believe it or not, he was my dog years ago and he just showed up last night at my camp from nowhere." Spud was feeling a bit like he was on one of those television shows where the boy finds a dog, takes it home and begs his parents "can I keep him, please can I keep him?" He wasn't planning to keep Snuffles past Sunday, as that would be the first day he wasn't working a full shift, but he wanted to be with Snuffles as much as he could in the interim. Burton had offered Spud a forty hour week after Thelma's stroke and Spud had accepted. Between his paycheck cash and the money he had earned from collecting bottles and cans, he now had more than four thousand dollars saved. Snuffle's arrival had given him an idea about how to use some of it to pay back Burton and Thelma for their kindness.

Snuffles assisted Spud in selling Burton and Thelma on allowing Snuffles into the store by running over to Thelma and licking her hand. Thelma giggled with delight.

"He's a cutie! So he just showed up? You don't know where he came from?"

"Oh, I know where he came from, and I know I have to bring him back, but I can't do it until Sunday. That's the first day I have off. Any chance we can let Snuffles into the store for the next couple of days? I'd sure like to spend some time with him while he's here."

Burton looked skeptical, but Thelma answered for both of them.

"Of course we can let him in!" she answered. "I'll bet the customers will get a big kick out of him." Burton merely shrugged. The decision had already been made without him.

Snuffles didn't help much with minding the store, but he seemed to be a big hit with the customers, particularly the families with children. Snuffles assumed the role of greeter, taking a position at the door and licking people's hands as they arrived. He received lots of positive feedback for his efforts, comments like "he's adorable" from the women and "can I take him home?" from the kids. By the end of the day, even Burton was holding Snuffle's paw and patting his head.

Thelma and Spud had teamed up to log in all of the past five year's receipts in just a few days on the PC spreadsheets Spud had set up. The new inventory system was working well. Customers were no longer being turned away when they asked for items that the store normally stocked. Burton, as was his habit, was skeptical of Spud's spreadsheets.

"What the hell is an 'economic order quantity?'" he grumbled.

Spud had explained the concept as simply as he could.

"The spreadsheet computes how many of each item we sell per month, then it adds a quantity equivalent to a standard deviation to ensure we always have enough on hand and sets that up as the reorder point. When the inventory of an item dips below the reorder point, the computer tells us it's time to order another EOQ."

"What the hell is a 'standard deviation?'" asked Burton.

"Don't worry about it. All you need to know is that the spreadsheet calculates everything automatically. The point is that we're not likely to run out of items that people want any more."

Burton grunted and went off to offer help to a customer. Spud smiled.

When the store closed, Spud asked Burton and Thelma if they would be willing to pose for a picture in front of the store with Snuffles.

"I just want to make sure I don't forget to take a picture of you two. I thought it would be nice to have you pose with Snuffles. I haven't got any pictures of Snuffles either. I barely recognized him when he showed up."

Thelma agreed for both her and Burton once again. The four of them walked outside. Spud retrieved the high definition camera he had purchased for just fifteen dollars from the grocery store. Prices for electronics had reached new lows recently now that China and India had been replaced as the world's low cost manufacturers by several smaller, even poorer countries.

Spud snapped several pictures, a few with Snuffles and a few without. When he was satisfied that Thelma and Burton looked as folksy as they could possibly look and Snuffles looked as adorable as he could look, he thanked them for their patience. Phase one of his marketing plan for Burt's Hardware was complete.

On his way home, Spud detoured to the grocery store. He was well-stocked with food and other supplies at his camp, but he had come for a different reason this time. He hadn't been to a bank in years, but now it was time to reacquaint himself with the banking system. He worried that his money was not secure at camp, yet this was not his primary motivation for this visit. Having reviewed the hardware store's balance sheet, he had determined that the store was only marginally profitable. Five years ago the store had been turning a substantial profit, but revenues had been steadily declining over the last four years. It was obvious that the opening of the massive home improvement store on the other side of town had taken its toll. Spud had an idea that might help turn things around, but his plan could not be implemented without a bank account.

Spud left Snuffles outside the store with the wagon and carried a large opaque jar into the grocery store with him. Settling into one of the two padded metal chairs available at the small bank branch inside the grocery store, he waited patiently for service, placing the jar in his lap. He was dressed in his best cotton shirt and the only pair of khakis he still owned, but there was no denying that his best outfit merely made him look presentable, not impressive.

After a few minutes, the door to the tiny windowless office next to his chair opened. An obese, middle-aged black woman escorted the male customer she had been working with out the door, shaking his hand and thanking him for doing business with the bank. She seemed pleasant enough, smiling warmly as her customer exited. Perhaps this wouldn't be as difficult as Spud had thought.

The banker's smile redirected towards Spud. She motioned towards the large, white plastic bottle on Spud's lap.

"I'm sorry, but we only take change on Tuesdays and Thursdays," she said.

Spud answered carefully. "Actually, this isn't change. It's cash. I hope you still take it."

A look of embarrassment crossed the woman's face. "I'm sorry," she said. "My mistake. How may I help you?

"I'd like to open a bank account," stated Spud, still fretting about his wrinkled appearance. His clothes were clean, but not ironed, due to lack of electricity at camp. He was hoping that she wouldn't recognize him as the bearded, shaggy-haired homeless person he had been a few months ago.

"You're in luck, then, because that's what we do here," said the banker, her smile still intact. "As for cash, we still take it, but you'll need to sign a few forms stating that you're not a terrorist or a drug dealer. Come on in and we'll get started."

Spud followed her into her miniscule office. She closed the door behind her. Spud sat in the only chair available, a metal-framed thinly padded chair with minimal back support. Bankers had come a long way down from their glory days, thought Spud.

"My name is Shenice Johnson," said Spud's new banker, extending her hand. "May I ask how much you'd like to deposit into your new account?"

Spud shook her hand. "I'm Milton Mattlin. People call me 'Spud,'" he said, blanching as he spoke. He hadn't thought to count out exactly how much money he had in the jar. Already he had made a critical mistake. He stammered out a reply to her question.

"You know, I've added some money since I last counted it. I know it's over four thousand dollars, though. Don't you have to count it anyway?"

To Spud's relief, Shenice seemed unfazed by his admission. "Yes, we have to count it anyway. Before we do, though, I'll need two forms of identification."

This was the part of the conversation that Spud had been dreading. He decided that honesty was the best policy.

"I've been 'off the grid' for a few years," he said, judging her as an empathic person. "All I have is my social security card and my draft card."

"Ooh, that's a problem," replied Shenice. "Neither one has your photo. Do you have anything with a photo?"

"How about a driver's license that expired three years ago?"

Shenice paused. "I'm not supposed to take expired photo ID's, but you've got two other identifications. Can you keep a secret?" A mischievous look crossed her face.

Spud was puzzled by her statement. "Of course I can. My circle of friends is really small. Why?"

"May I be perfectly honest with you, even if it hurts?"

Spud eyed her warily, fearing what he might hear. "Yeah," he answered curtly.

"Spud, I remember you as you were a few months ago," she said. "You weren't a pretty sight. You came into the store drunk a few times, and I saw the store eject you a couple of times. You may not be aware of this, but people in the store and the bank have been talking about you, about how much you've changed recently. People have been watching you pump bottles and cans into the deposit machine for hours at a time. That's where this money came from, correct?"

Spud answered succinctly. "Correct."

"So you're trying to put your life back together, right?"

Spud nodded affirmatively. "I'm trying like hell," he said.

"Well, I'm going to stick my neck out and make sure you get your opportunity to make a comeback. I'll accept your identification, but please don't broadcast what I've done. When you get a valid photo I.D., please bring it to me so I can place a copy in your file. Assuming everything else works out here, you're going to have your bank account in order when you walk out of here."

Spud felt as though he was exhaling for the first time since he had entered the store. Over the course of the next hour, he thanked her several times for what she was doing for him. As she promised, he walked out with a brand new check book and a couple of valid money orders less than an hour later.

Chapter 25

Spud awoke at the crack of dawn on the following Sunday. In short order, he gathered everything he would need for the four mile walk to his last legal residence. The one thing he needed that seemed to be in short supply was courage.

The morning air was cool and crisp, but sweat beaded on his brow well before he began the journey. Apprehension welled within him. His day of reckoning had arrived before he had been able to complete his revitalization. Now he would be judged by his former loved ones based on an incomplete recovery. He found himself thinking that another week with Snuffles would be a good thing for him, but shook the idea off. Procrastination and excuses had controlled his former life and he was determined not to allow those traits to dominate his new one.

"Come on, boy," he called to Snuffles. "It's time to get you back where you belong."

Snuffles ran to him, jumping up and down on him as he had when he was a puppy. It was almost as if Snuffles had been reborn in just two days. Spud noticed that Snuffles was consuming only a small portion of his food, unlike the Snuffles he had known in the past, who would eat until his bowl was empty and then beg for more. Given Snuffle's barrel-shaped body, Spud believed that Telly was having the same impact on Snuffles that he had first had on Spud. Whatever was in Telly's liquid, thought Spud, somebody ought to start bottling and selling it.

Spud began walking, calling out to Snuffles to follow him. To his surprise and annoyance, Snuffles refused. Snuffles ran to the new steel trunk that Spud had purchased the day before at the hardware store and pawed at it, looking up at Spud plaintively. Snuffles couldn't have sent a clearer message to Spud if he had spoken English. Spud thought about Snuffle's request for a minute, and then caved.

"Okay, Snuffy," he chuckled. "I hear you loud and clear. Looks like we're going to be a party of three today!"

Spud unlocked the latch with his small key and pulled Telly out of his new home, placing the little creature on his shoulder. Having neither the strength nor the desire to pull his wagon for four miles, he retrieved his knapsack from the tent. He emptied its contents and placed a bottle of water, two raw potatoes and a can of dog food into the side pockets. Telly was deposited into the bottom of the knapsack on its small, corrugated cardboard bottom. The netting on the back of the knapsack would provide Telly with plenty of air.

"Sorry to take you out of your new penthouse, Telly," he said, "but your doggie friend wants you along for the ride. Hey, at least you won't have to walk the whole way, like we poor folk."

Spud, Snuffles and Telly walked for almost two hours. Spud was used to walking long distances and had little difficulty with the physical demands of the journey, but the psychological toll was another matter. Spud's trepidation grew with each step he took. Fear of rejection began to take hold, slowing his pace. He forced himself to continue, focusing on his surroundings. He hadn't seen this side of town in more than three years. The houses were generally small, mainly capes and one story ranches. Half of the storefronts on Main Street were vacant, victims of the fast food chains and big box stores on the outskirts of town. Spud winced as he passed the massive Homes 'n' More store. The term "big box store" didn't do it justice. His marketing plan for Burt's Hardware suddenly seemed a feeble response to this juggernaut. If Burt's Hardware had been located on this side of town rather than two miles away, there wouldn't be any point in even trying.

A few of the streets began to look familiar. These were the streets he had driven frequently before his license had been revoked. His suspension had expired more than two years ago, but there hadn't been a reason to reinstate it, given his lack of a car.

His moment of truth was rapidly approaching. From a distance, he could see his former home. He froze, staring at it for several minutes, unable to walk any further. There was nothing distinctive about the house, just a small cape surrounded by a white picket fence, yet for a time this unpretentious little house had been the symbol of his achievement of the American dream. This house contained his memories of the best of times. He remembered returning from his honeymoon and laughing with his new bride as he performed the banal rite of carrying her through the front door. He remembered arriving home with their newborn son, giddy at the prospect of fatherhood.

But this house also contained his memories of the worst of times. A drink or two had helped to soothe him when he couldn't stop thinking about the war. A few drinks had gotten him through his first unexpected layoff. By the time his only son began wasting away before his eyes, he drank merely to slip into unconsciousness, the only time he couldn't feel his son's pain.

As Spud ruminated, Snuffles made his intentions clear. He jumped up on Spud, and then ran towards the house. Snuffles stopped at the gate and looked back at Spud pleadingly. Spud shook off his torpor. "Now or never," he thought.

"Okay, Snuffles, hang in there. I'm coming!"

Spud unlatched the gate and allowed Snuffles to bound into the front yard.

"C'mere, boy, you've gotta be with me on this," said Spud.

Snuffles dutifully returned to Spud's side and the two of them walked to the door together. Spud held his breath as he listened to the doorbell chime. Presently, he heard footfalls approaching the door. The door opened. As Spud frantically debated whether to address his son as "Jody" or "son," Snuffles made the question moot. Snuffles jumped on Jody, barking joyously. Of all of the possible outcomes of Spud's first meeting with his son in more than three years, this was the strangest. He hadn't expected not to be noticed.

"Snuffles, you're back!" exclaimed Jody excitedly. "Oh, man, you don't know how much I missed you!" Jody dipped his head, allowing Snuffles to lick his face. He dropped to his knees, brought Snuffles into his chest and hugged him tightly. "It's good to see you boy, I thought you might be dead."

Jody and Snuffles continued hugging as Spud looked down at them, unwilling to interrupt their moment of reunion. Presently, Jody realized that he should be thanking the man who had returned Snuffles. He looked up at Spud.

"Thanks, Mister, I really appreciate..." Jody stopped in mid-sentence. The man in front of him looked familiar. Recognition finally prompted him to speak.

"Dad?"

Spud tried to smile, but wasn't sure he succeeded. "Hi, Jody," he said simply. "I've missed you."

Jody's expression turned to shock. Spud had faintly hoped that perhaps Jody would rush into his arms, but that was more than could he could expect, and much more than he received. Jody seemed unsure of what to say next. When he finally spoke to Spud, his words were non-commital.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, forgetting that Snuffles had accompanied Spud.

"That should be obvious," said Spud. "I'm bringing Snuffles back."

Jody flared. "So you took him?!"

"Of course not," answered Spud. "I sure missed him, though."

"So how'd you get Snuffles?" asked Jody. Spud had been trying to visualize what a reunion with his son might be like for years, but this scenario was playing out entirely differently than anything he had anticipated. First, he had not even been noticed. Now the conversation was focused on their dog rather than each other.

"He showed up out of the blue at my camp site on the other side of town. I would have brought him back earlier, but I had to work full shifts until today." Spud hoped that mentioning his job might help Jody understand that he was changing for the better. He was disappointed with Jody's response.

"You still live in this town, but you haven't come home to visit once?!" Jody's tone was accusatory. Spud's heart sank.

"Yes, I still live here, on the other side of town, about four miles away. I don't know if Snuffles was trying to find me or just got lost or what, but here he is. Son, I want to apologize for everything I've..." Jody cut him off, exploding at him.

"You think saying you're sorry is all you have to do after walking away from Mom and me for three years?! Screw you!"

"It's not enough, but it's what I have to start with. I owe you and Mom so much. There's no legitimate place to begin, but I have to start by saying I'm sorry."

"There's nothing you can say that can make up for what you did," said Jody stridently. "Why don't you crawl back to wherever you've been hiding and stay out of our business?!"

"Son, I've stopped drinking and I've got a steady job. I'm trying to turn my life around. I'd like to keep seeing you even if..." Jody cut him short again.

"You should get out of here before Mom gets home from church. She doesn't want to have anything to do with you, either."

Spud felt as though he had been stabbed in the heart, not once but twice. Even worse, he was suddenly desperate for a drink. He deserved what was happening, that much was certain, but he had arrived with a slim hope and been crushed. There was nothing left to do but walk away.

"All right, Jody, if that's what you want," he said weakly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his money order. "This is a down payment on what I owe for child support," he said. "There will be more to come, whether I deliver it in person or just mail it."

Jody momentarily waivered in his resolve to throw his father out. Perhaps his father was telling the truth about having a job and cleaning up. Whatever his father's current situation was, he had been disappointed enough times in the past to know that it was not likely to be permanent. He wasn't sure whether his next words to his wayward father were motivated by animosity or merely a desire not to be hurt again, but he said them anyway.

"Keep it!" he said. "Mom and I are getting along just fine without you."

Spud's first meeting with his son in years was suddenly over. There was really nothing left to say, but Spud spoke one last time before he turned to leave.

"I love you son, I always will. Tell your mother I'll always love her too."

Jody was grateful when his father finally turned his back to him. He didn't want his father to see the tears streaming down his face when they started. He watched helplessly as his father trudged slowly towards the gate, his head down. What had he done?

Jody may have been determined to hurt his father for hurting him, but Snuffles had other ideas. When Jody tried to close the door, Snuffles ran out and jumped onto Spud's back, pawing at his knapsack. Jody wasn't about to let Spud go off with Snuffles again. He ran out towards his father, calling out to Snuffles to come back as he ran.

His father turned back to face him. Jody's tears were now visible to Spud. Spud took the biggest gamble he had taken since the beginning of his comeback. He threw his arms around Jody and held him tightly, refusing to let him go. Jody's tears soaked Spud's shoulder. Spud added a few tears of his own as he listened to the words he had longed to hear again for more than three long years.

"I love you Dad," said Jody. "Don't go!"

Other books

"O" Is for Outlaw by Sue Grafton
The Fray Theory: Resonance by Nelou Keramati
Teacher Man: A Memoir by Frank McCourt
Love on Assignment by Cara Lynn James
Come Together by Jessica Hawkins
Zoya by Danielle Steel
Chasing Glory by Galbraith, DeeAnna
Days of Desire by India T. Norfleet
Eraser by Keith, Megan