Joe and Kari
were enjoying a lazy Saturday morning. The twins were still asleep and the
aroma of freshly ground coffee drifted through the kitchen. The little
breakfast nook where they sat overlooking the backyard was bright with sunshine.
A plate of bagels ready for toppings of strawberry jam or cream cheese lay warm
in the sun. Joe took a sip of his mug of French Roast and then set it down,
reaching across the little table to caress his wife's hand.
"Last night was great," he
said, smiling at her, enjoying the look of her rumpled hair and sleepy eyes.
"This morning, too," she
said and stroked his hand, sighing happily. "You were quite the
tiger."
Joe grinned, inwardly feeling pretty
good with himself. Suddenly the calm was broken by the crack of a gunshot. Both
Joe and Kari jumped up and looked out the window. Next door in the far back corner
of his yard their neighbor, Tuomas Salonen, was just standing up, holding a
rifle in his hand. He didn't look happy.
"God damn, that stupid idiot is
at it again." Joe made a move toward the back door.
"Hold on, there. What do you
think you're going to do?" Kari asked, reaching out her hand."Where
are you going?" She tried to grab hold of his arm.
"I'm going to teach that guy a
lesson." Joe was angry and shook his wife's hand off him.
She grabbed his arm again, holding
strong. "I'd think about that if I were you," she said, pointing.
"Maybe put some clothes on first."
He looked down. "Oh...Well,
yeah," he responded, like he knew all along he was just sitting there in
his tee-shirt and boxers. "Of course." And he hurried off to get
dressed.
Kari watched him go, shaking her
head, all thoughts of their romantic interlude replaced by the guy out in the
backyard with the gun. So much for a peaceful morning.
Tuomas Salonen was pretty pissed off.
He had been awakened in the night by some scratching in the wall of his bedroom
over by the window and he knew right away what it was. That damn squirrel was
at it again. There was going to be hell to pay now.
Tuomas had lived in his home for
nearly twenty years. He and his wife Veera were third generation Finns whose
grandparents had been part of an
immigration surge to American in the latter half of the nineteenth century.
Their grandparents had settled in northwestern Minnesota near the town of
Battle Lake and had become farmers. Tuomas and Veera's parents had been farmers
as well, and the two of them may have followed in their footsteps as well
except for a vague longing on Tuomas's part for something different from his
life. He wasn't sure what it was, but, like he told Veera shortly after they'd
begun dating, "I don't want to be tied down up here on some farm. I want
to get away and see what else there is out there to see."
Which sounded vague and a little
unsettling to Veera, but she was game. She loved the tall, good looking guy
with the wavy hair and blue eyes that twinkled when he smiled, and was willing
to follow him anywhere. They had grown up together in the small Finnish community
in and around Battle Lake. They knew each other and were friendly with each
other up until junior high school when they secretly started to see each other
as more than just acquaintances, becoming boyfriend-girlfriend in the ninth
grade as they called it back then in the mid 40's. They were both industrious
and hard workers. After they completed high school Tuomas hired himself out as
a farm laborer, saving his money, while Veera worked at a local creamery,
saving her money. They quickly saved enough to get married a year after they
had graduated. They moved to St. Paul's east side, renting an apartment until
they could afford a house. Tuomas ended up getting a job working as a deck hand
on a tug boat with a barge company on the Mississippi River out of downtown St.
Paul. They bought a two story, wood frame house on St. Clare Street within
walking distance of the Mississippi and Veera stayed home, raising their four
children, all girls. He worked his way up until he became a captain of his own
tug at the age of forty, a position he held until his retirement at the age of
sixty five. They had a good life. Like Veera said to him more than once,
"We have given our children good food, a good home and a good education,
Tuomas, and that's something to be proud of."
Tuomas couldn't have agreed more. But
with the kids grown and his time with the barge company over, they both looked
at his retirement as a chance to try something new, which, for a Finn, was
almost unheard of. But Tuomas and Veera were unlike most Finns so they looked
and looked and finally found their new home, this home, the one currently
besieged by a rouge red squirrel, out west of Minneapolis in the little town of
Long Lake. That's where he and Veera decided to move to, it's where they
intended to live out their lives, and it's where Veera passed away from brain
cancer two years earlier a few months before Joe and Kari and their twins moved
in next door.
"Call the cops," Joe yelled
as he stormed outside, attired in his cargo shorts and black tee-shirt.
"Tell them we're sick of this guy. He's a menace to the world," Joe
added as the back screen door slammed behind him.
"Calm down, honey," Kari
said under her breath. She had no intention of calling anyone, except maybe her
sister Susie. They had plans later that day to go to the Minneapolis Institute
of Art to see an exhibit of American Modernism with the twins and Susie's kids.
She glanced outside. It was such a pretty morning. Early June was a favorite
time of year for her. The trees were leafed out and flower pots she had planted
were filled with colorful blooms. The air was thick with the musty scent of
rich soil and rebirth. Thoughts of the cold and snow of last winter were but a
vague, slightly unpleasant memory. She was concerned about their neighbor but not
enough set out on a rampage like her husband. Maybe I'll make some cookies
later and go over and just talk reasonably to him, she thought to herself, something
Joe was definitely not going to be doing. Just then the kids, Jeremy and Jenny,
charged into the kitchen ready for something to eat. Kari looked out the window
one more time, briefly wondering what Joe was going to do, before turning her
attention to the tow-headed twins. "Who wants pancakes?" she asked to
a rousing chorus of "Me's..." from her hungry nine year olds. She turned
her attention to fixing them breakfast, leaving her husband to fend for
himself.
Joe stormed across the backyard to
the far right back corner where Tuomas was now sitting. The old man wore a beat
up felt hat and was dressed in faded jeans and a red plaid flannel work shirt. A
waist high chain link fence separated the two properties and Joe leaned on it
as he berated his neighbor.
"What the hell are you think
you're doing?" he yelled, gripping the fence and inadvertently opening up
a nasty puncture wound on the palm of his left hand from a metal barb sticking
up. He swore a long and colorful oath as Tuomas slowly got to his feet. He was
a tall, thin man and he seemed to unfold has he stood up, standing nearly eight
inches above Joe. He'd been sitting on an overturned five gallon bucket and he
lay his gun down carefully.
"Here, let me see that,"
Tuomas said calmly, limping over to the fence. He was feeling all of his
eighty-five years, especially today, where not only had he failed to killing
the squirrel, his nemesis and tormentor, but he had also tripped and smashed
his shin into the edge of the coffee table in his living room when he'd gotten
up a hours earlier just after sunrise. It hadn't been the best morning of his
life, but, then again, at his age, he was just happy to be alive. Or
"Happy to still be alive and kickin'," was how he'd put it when any
of his daughters called and asked how he was. Well, he wouldn't be doing much
kickin' today, that was for sure. And now he had to deal with his neighbor who
obviously was not only so mad he was sputtering and almost unintelligible, but
now bleeding like crazy, blood now dripping off his hand. In spite of all of
that, though, Tuomas actually liked his next door neighbors. Joe was a bit of a
hot head, but his wife was nice and occasionally brought him over fresh cookies
and other baked goods. She'd even bring over the occasional tuna casserole, a
Midwestern staple and a particular favorite of his. He knew that Joe was an
electrician who worked for a local company. Although Tuomas, being quite handy
himself, had never needed his services, he admired the guy for working with his hands and having a
skill. "Looks like you cut it pretty bad," Tuomas said, gently
reaching for Joe's hand which didn't go over too well.
"Keep away from me, you crazy
old coot." Joe yelled, pulling his hand away and glaring at the old guy.
He was angry and breathing hard, his heart racing.
For the nearly two years they'd
lived next door, Joe only knew Tuomas well enough to give him a neighborly wave
if they happened to see each other when out working in the yard or shoveling
the snow off their driveways in the winter. Truth be told, Kari knew him
better. And she liked him, so that counted for something. He felt himself
calming down enough to think maybe he was over reacting when he suddenly stopped
himself. Wait a minute. This wasn't his problem. It was the old guy's problem.
After all, he was the one with the gun, shooting it off in the neighborhood on
a quiet Saturday morning, disturbing the peace and (especially) ruining his
nice, mellow, post coitus mood. No matter what, Tuomas had some explaining to
do.
"What do you think you're up
to?" he puffed himself up and challenged. "What with waving that gun
around like a nut case and all. Shooting it off and everything. You could hurt
someone."
Tuomas took a moment to collect
himself. He had a clean bandana in his back pocket and he took it out and held
it toward Joe. "Here, wrap this around your hand. That bleeding's getting
pretty bad." Joe started to pull away, but then thought better of it. The
old guy was only trying to be helpful. Besides, the wound was dripping a lot
and starting to hurt.
Reluctantly he took it and wrapped
it around his hand. "Thanks." He gave the old guy the hint of an
appreciative smile. But he was still cranked up and angry. He pointed to where
the gun lay propped against the stump of a tree that had been cut down earlier
that spring. "What's the deal with that gun, anyway? Don't you know that
it's against the law to fire those things off inside the city limits?"
Long Lake was a small town of less than two thousand people with woods and
fields nearby. It was definitely not like living in the middle of a big city.
Tuomas reached down and picked up
the gun, causing Joe to flinch and step back. Tuomas saw this and it confirmed
his suspicions. His neighbor might know wiring and how to installed a breaker
panel but he knew nothing about fire arms. Nothing at all. "Here," he
said, keeping his voice calm, "let me show you something." He held up
the gun as Joe instinctively put up an arm in defense. "This is only a
pellet gun." He smiled at Joe, who gave him a questioning look. "It's
really quite harmless."
"It looks like a rifle to me. How
can it be harmless?" Joe was skeptical.
"Look, it's a toy really. It
has very little power and hardly any range at all." He looked at Joe to
see if he was getting what he was saying. "It's even legal to shoot within
the city limits. I checked with City Hall to make sure before I bought
it."
Joe just didn't like guns. Nor did
Kari and he wasn't going to let some goofy old man convince him otherwise.
"I just don't like you shooting it
around here. It's not just me, but..." he pointed back toward his house,
"It's the kids, too. They play out here, you know."
Tuomas did know. He'd been a
neighbor of Joe's long enough to know about the kids. He'd seen them playing
outside numerous times, talking to them fairly often and chasing down the
occasional ball that ended up over the fence and in his yard. Besides, he and
Veera had raised four of their own. Kids were always a consideration. He knew
right now, looking at Joe in his agitated state that he could push it further
and try to convince his neighbor that his gun was safe, or he could just let it
go. As Veera would say, "It's not good fences that make good neighbors, Tuomas,
it's good people being good neighbors." He decided to pay attention to his
deceased wife.
He symbolically put the gun down,
his back creaking as he did so. He stood up and looked at Joe, who was watching
him carefully. Then he did something that was completely unexpected, but, in
retrospect, wasn't that odd of a thing for Tuomas to do. He extended his hand
in a show of compromise and conciliation. "Alright," he said, firmly.
"No more shooting with my gun. I promise."
Joe was stunned. He never expected
that the old man would acquiesce so easily. He didn't know much about the guy,
but Kari seemed to think he was harmless. Maybe he was. Maybe it was he, Joe,
who needed calming down. Hesitantly he extended his hand. "You sure about
this?"
"Yeah, I am. Seriously."
Tuomas looked back toward his house, imagining the squirrel watching him from
some secret hiding place, planning its next move. Tuomas shook his head. God,
maybe I'm losing my mind. He took Joe's hand and shook it. "But I have a
question for you." He smiled and gave what Joe later would have sworn was
a wink, "How do you feel about sling shots?"
Joe never
tired of telling the story of Tuomas and the squirrel, or, as he put it,
"The incident of the old Finn and the rifle." From that day on he and
Tuomas began developing a better relationship. Not really close right of the
bat, mind you, given that they were men, and given Tuomas's Finnish background,
but close enough to begin to like and respect each other nevertheless. It
worked for them and their relationship began to grown and deepen as the summer
progressed. Joe learned to appreciate Tuomas's slightly skewed sense of humor
and Tuomas enjoyed becoming an ad hoc member of Joe's family. Kari never tired
of making some extra cookies for him and Tuomas reciprocated by helping out
with home repairs that were beyond Joe's abilities. And Joe, after an initial
bit of male ego huffing and puffing, soon learned to take the old guy's input
for what it was, just a neighbor helping out and doing a good turn.
Tuomas would not give up on the
squirrel, however. He made good on his promise to buy a slingshot, getting a
Wham-O -Wrist Rocket the following Monday from a local sporting goods store.
"Hey neighbor, look at this,"
he called out the next Saturday when he saw Joe in the backyard, getting ready to
cut the grass. "Check it out." Joe walked over to the fence as Tuomas fitted the slingshot on
his wrist and forearm. Then he reached down and grabbed a pebble the size of a
marble and put it in the leather pouch, pulled the heavy duty rubber straps
back and let it fly toward a coffee can he'd set up against the side of his
garage. The stone missed and smacked off the siding, splintering some wood.
"Oops," he said, looking around for another stone, "I guess I
need more practice." I'd say, Joe thought to himself. But at least he
wasn't using the rifle, so that was something.
With Joe and Tuomas getting to know
one another better, it seemed to jump start the kids. They started to pay more
attention to the old man. "He's kind of funny, dad," was the way his
son put it, a few weeks after the initial encounter.
"How do you mean?" Joe
asked. He was in the garage, busy painting an old wooden rocking chair, one of
four that were used on the back patio of their yard.
"Well, he's always talking to
himself," Jeremy said.
"Yeah, dad, and singing,
too," Jenny added.
"Anything wrong with
that?" Joe asked, glancing at his kids and smiling. He was starting to
appreciate Tuomas and his little idiosyncrasies.
The twins contemplated the question
for a moment before both shrugging their shoulders and answering at the same
time, "No, guess not."
No indeed, Joe thought, as the twins
ran off to grab their bikes, heading for the playground a few blocks away, nothing
at all wrong with that. At least the guy's happy.
And Tuomas was happy. Happy enough,
given that he lived by himself, longed terribly for the companionship of his
deceased wife and was plagued by a red squirrel that he swore was sent by the
devil Itself. And, although getting to know Joe and his family better helped
alleviate his loneliness, it did not completely eradicate it. For the most part
his days were spent 'staying busy' as he often told Joe. "I just like to
keep active," he'd say with a grin. "Keeps the blood flowing."
As the summer progressed Joe and
Tuomas grew closer. Joe installed an outdoor light on Tuomas's garage so the
old guy could putter around at night if he wanted to. And Tuomas, who liked to
work outdoors as much as he could, encouraged Joe to contemplate planting a
garden, which Joe was still considering. He'd had a busy few months at work but
now things were starting to slow down. One day in early August Tuomas was out
working in the large vegetable garden he and Veera had planted shortly after
they moved in and he still maintained. It was on the south side of the house
between his and Joe's. This year he was especially proud of the variety and
amount of his tomatoes. "Look at these Big Boys," he said, pulling
one off the vine and handing it to Joe who was standing in the sun on the other
side of the chain link fence. They were chatting with each other as Tuomas was
doing some weeding. "Doesn't get much better than this," he smiled,
taking his old hat off and wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. His face was
deeply lined, tanned and speckled with gray beard stubble. It showed a
character of strength and resolve that Joe was coming to appreciate more and
more. "You should plant a garden, too, young man," Tuomas said as Joe
held and admired the huge tomato. "I'll help you."
"Maybe next year," Joe
said, looking over his yard, shielding his eyes from the sun, not sure if he
wanted to put the effort into it.
Tuomas sensed his neighbor's
hesitation. "You've got to get while the gettin's good, young fella',"
he said. And then reached down and snapped off a large cucumber and took a big bite,
clearly savoring the juicy treat. "Time waits for no one."
Joe laughed a little. He was in his
late thirties. He had finished trade school right after completing high school
and had been fortunate to land a job right away with Meyer's Electric, the
company he was still with. Tuomas was always coming up with those kinds of
'wise sayings' as Joe thought of them as. It might have had to do with the fact
that the old guy was for the most part self taught and, even in his advanced
years, still read both fiction and non-fiction, filling his active mind with
more events and stories and facts than Joe could never imagine himself doing.
It was one of many aspects of his neighbor that he was learning to appreciate.
Tuomas had a boat that he kept down
on Long Lake, the lake the town they lived in was named after. It was a stout,
wooden vessel that showed as much character in its wooden construction as Tuomas
did in his craggy face. He loved to fish and had starting taking the twins down
with him. Joe had been surprised by their interest.
"We like to fish, dad,"
Jenny said, the first time she asked him if she and her brother could go.
"You've never been in your
life," Joe responded, suddenly feeling guilty and maybe a little jealous he
hadn't made the extra time for his kids so he could take them fishing.
Just then Tuomas came around the
corner of his house carrying three fishing poles. He waved at Joe as he walked
up to the edge of the fence. "How about it? Can I take the kids with
me?"
He seemed so eager that Joe had to
acquiesce. "Sure. Why not?"
The twins both cheered and ran
happily along the fence toward the front yard where the fence ended, around it
and back to where the two men stood. Tuomas instructed the twins to go to his
garage and grab the life jackets. They ran off and he looked at Joe. "You
Ok with this? You can come with."
When he saw how happy the three of
them were his jealousy went away. This could only be a good thing for all of them.
He really didn't care for fishing, and it looked like this was something the
three of them would obviously enjoy more without him. He realized that he was
Ok with that and that he shouldn't be so petty. Maybe in that moment he matured
a little."No, you guys go and have fun," he said, reaching over the
fence and clasping Tuomas on the shoulder. "The kids are excited."
And they stayed excited, going out
on the lake with Tuomas more than a few times throughout the summer, not always
catching fish, maybe, but always having a good time. Like Kari said, watching
the three of them get ready for one of their 'expeditions', as she called them,
"Tuomas is such a kind and giving man. I think it's great he wants to be
with the kids." Joe couldn't agree more.
The old man was also a rower, going
down to the lake at least once a week no matter what the weather and getting
out on the water. He'd walk down carrying his oars over his shoulder, often
whistling to himself. One Saturday in mid October Joe was in the backyard
raking the leaves that were starting to fall from the three sugar maples that
grew there.
"Hey neighbor," Tuomas
called. He was coming out of his garage with his oars. "I'm heading down
to the lake. Want to come with?"
He'd never asked before. Joe was
nearly done with the raking and Kari had the kids at their soccer game. He had
time. "Sure, what not?"
It was one of the things that
getting to know Tuomas was helping Joe with. Getting him out of his rut, so to
speak. As Kari would occasionally say to him, "That old guy's good for
you. He's keeping you young."
Laughing when she'd talk like that,
Joe could only agree. Tuomas had the energy of a much younger person, and, in
his own way, was setting a good example for him. Like he'd told Kari more than
once, "Man, I'd love to have the energy that guy has when I'm his
age."
"Exactly," Kari would
respond, nodding her head in agreement. She loved her husband dearly but she
saw it as more than just having energy and being active. Tuomas was a good man.
He was selfless and caring and, by his example, was helping Joe to become a
better person, a better husband and a better father for being around him.
"Here, let me carry those oars
for you," Joe said as they started out. The lake was about half a mile
away: down their quiet block to the end of the street, across a highway overpass,
across another street and down another block and, presto, they were there.
Tuomas rented a spot on shore where he kept his boat overturned and locked with
a chain to a post. People with much larger speed boats and sail boats had spots
reserved at buoys anchored in the water. Joe helped as they carried the sixteen
footer to the public dock, where it was easier (and drier) for them to get in. Joe
could tell the wooden boat had been well cared for, which wasn't surprising,
Tuomas was a very fastidious man. The outside was smooth and sanded, painted
red with white trim. The inside was natural wood and stained a warm
honey-golden color and varnished to a high gloss. Tuomas had Joe sit in the
back and he took his position in the middle, set his oars in the oarlocks and
they pushed off. With Tuomas's strong, smooth strokes, they quickly left the
dock behind, and set out for, as the old guy put it, "A nice little
row."
Joe had never been on the lake
before. In fact, the last time he'd been on any kind of water was back when he
was a teenager and a friend had invited him for a day of boating on Lake
Minnetonka, a big, popular boating lake a few miles from where they were now.
They'd spent the day thunder tubing, being pulled on a hug inner tube behind
his friend's dad's boat. It had been fun, but painful, too. Joe grimaced to
remember the many times he'd fallen off, bouncing along the surface of the
lake, sputtering and finally coming to rest, floating in his life vest. He'd had
the bruises for more than a few days. Today, however, was distinctly different.
The October sky was blue and cloudless. The sun was bright and warm. A light
breeze rippled the water and the shoreline trees were starting to change into
their fall colors of russet-red, fiery-orange and golden-yellow. In some
shallow water in a small bay a flock of ducks squawked amongst themselves and
dove for food. There was a hint of leafy decay in the air, a pleasant scent associated
with the season, and it mingled with the smoke of a fire. Somewhere someone was
burning leaves. The scent was heavenly to him, bringing back good memories of
when he was a kid. He sighed and relaxed, leaning back, watching Tuomas in
front of him, rowing with a strength and ease that made Joe slightly envious.
When they were out in the middle of
the lake, he stopped rowing, stowed the oars and turned his face to the sun.
Smiling he said, "Pretty nice out here, isn't it?"
The breeze had died off, leaving the
lake a mirror like calm that reflected the colorful trees along the shore.
Above them a flock of gulls, white with black wing tips, circled and soared,
calling out in the clean, crisp air. The word 'beautiful' didn't even begin to
describe the scene. "It's amazing," Joe said, meaning it, nearly at a
loss for words. He'd never experienced anything like it in his life.
Tuomas chuckled, "I thought
you'd like being here." He took a few moments and looked around, taking in
a deep breath. Joe could see him visibly relax. "I was brought up on a
farm in northern Minnesota," he said and then started talking about his
life, much of which Joe already knew, and then elaborated on his time as a
tugboat captain. "You would have thought that I'd be tied to the land,"
he said, looking at Joe and then past him out over the water. Long Lake was
about three miles in length and a mile wide. They were right in the middle,
bobbing gently. It was so peaceful Joe was having trouble keeping his eyes
open, but as Tuomas kept talking, he perked up. He liked hearing about the old
guy's life. "But I wasn't tied to it at all. Don't get me wrong, I've
always enjoyed being out in the woods. I like to walk in them and I like the
feel of the spongy ground under my feet. I like to sometimes drive out west of
here and see all those rolling fields in the farmland. You know, the corn and
soybeans," he looked at Joe, who nodded. He knew the difference between
the two, just barely, but he did. "But I really like being on the water. I
love the feel of it, and, especially on a day like today, I love how pretty and
peaceful it is."
Joe nodded some more, aware of
Tuomas using the word 'love' to describe his feelings about being on the water.
Not the kind of word any of the guys he knew used very often, if at all.
"How'd you become a captain?"
Tuomas smiled at the memory. "It
was a lot of hard work, let me say that for starters." Joe motioned for
him to continue. "Well..." he dipped his oars in to straighten out
the boat and then reset them. "I started at the bottom of the ladder, so
to speak, as a deck hand, which was nothing more than a common laborer. I was
used to that what with all the hard work I'd done growing up on the farm."
He worked his way up 'the ladder'
and after about fifteen years he was
able to take the training which enabled him gain the knowledge and learn the
skills required to pass his captain's test. "You wouldn't think about it,
but it really does take a lot to pilot those tugs," he said. "We had
to get re-certified every five years."
Joe was interested in Tuomas and his
life. His own father had died of a heart attack when he was twelve, just a few
years older than his kids ages now. He had never had the chance to get close to
the man, a well respected service manager at a Ford dealership in Minneapolis. The
more he hung around with Tuomas, the more he got to know him, and the more he
got to know him, the more he enjoyed him and enjoyed being with him. It was
beginning to become a relationship different than that with many of his
friends. And it made Joe feel not only good, but strangely affectionate toward
the old guy.
Joe asked if he could row them back
to shore, and Tuomas agreed, carefully switching places. Joe rowed in, enjoying
the pull of the muscles in his arms and the serenity of the afternoon, with
Tuomas idly dragging a hand in the water as if captivated by the lake and the
beauty and mystery that it held. The day ended with them securing the boat before
walking back home, each shouldering an oar, and, for Joe's part, feeling like
it was one of the better days in a year quickly becoming full of good days.
But that squirrel problem was not
going away. And the animal was sometimes more than just a pest and a nuisance,
sometimes it was downright destructive. In early November, Tuomas was outside
on a ladder looking around the window frame of his bedroom window. It was under
the eaves on the second story peak and about fifteen feet off the ground. Joe
was inside washing the morning breakfast dishes and just happened to look out.
He immediately could visualize the old guy falling off the ladder and breaking
his back. He hurriedly pulled on his jacket and went outside, walking over to
the fence and calling up, "What's going on?"
"It's that damn squirrel
again." Tuomas sounded not only mad but exasperated. "He's chewed
through the wiring up here."
Wiring was electrical and anything
electrical was right up Joe's alley. "Hold on there," he said jogging
to the front yard, around the edge of the fence and coming back, "Let me
help you with that." He didn't see it, but Kari had moved to the window and
was watching with a knowing kind of smile on her face. She was happy to see her
that husband now had what she considered was a friend. And Joe might have
thought of it the same way, if he thought about it at all, which he didn't. He
just liked the guy.
They went inside and it took a few
hours, but Joe was able to isolate the problem, run some new wires inside the
wall and get Tuomas up and running again, much to their mutual satisfaction. When
they were leaving, down on the first floor and walking through the living room,
Joe noticed a guitar propped up in the corner. "What have you got
there?" He asked, pointing. He walked over to get a closer look picking it
up and looking inside the sound hole. It was an old acoustic Martin. Inside it
read 000-18. "Nice old guitar you've got here."
Tuomas blushed. "I've had it
for years. I just plink around with it sometimes. Just old folk sounds and
such."
Joe was impressed. He was as far
away from being musical as you could get, but not Jeremy. His son loved music,
was singing all the time and constantly bugging his parents to get him an
instrument of some kind so he could learn to play. "Jeremy likes music.
Maybe you could teach him some songs."
Tuomas nodded, leaving it at that.
But when Joe told Kari about it later that evening she was both surprised but
not surprised. "That's a man with a lot going on inside him," she
said, with what Joe felt was a sense of wonder maybe mixed with a little envy.
They'd been standing in the kitchen each fixing a cup of after dinner tea and
they both turned and looked through the dark night toward their neighbor's home.
A few lights were on. They were quiet for a few moments before taking their tea
into the living room, thinking about their quirky neighbor and what he might be
up to. Whatever it was, they both agreed that, with Tuomas, he was many things,
not the least of which was that he was always interesting and always surprising
them.
Stretching back on the couch and
putting her feet up on the coffee table Kari said, "I'm sure glad he's our
neighbor. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have living next door."
She turned to Joe, "You guys have really gotten friendly. Remember last
spring with 'The incident of the old Finn and the rifle?"
Joe took a sip of his tea and
chuckled, "Yeah, I was a bit of a jerk, wasn't I?"
"Don't worry about it. You did
what you thought was right. In the end, it all turned out good." Which was
true. Joe certainly wouldn't argue with that.
On a Saturday afternoon just before
Thanksgiving Tuomas was outside bundled up in a heavy coat and stocking hat
practicing with his slingshot when Joe looked out the back kitchen window and
noticed him. The temperature was in the low twenty's under an overcast sky. It
was cold. Not the best kind of weather for doing something like that."Hey,
Kari, come here." He motioned for her. "Look what Tuomas is up
to."
She leaned over next to him. He
could smell in her hair the scent of the strawberry shampoo she used. He put
his arm around her shoulder. She laughed and squeezed his hand, "Looks
like your pal could use some company."
Joe ignored her. "Maybe we
could go take a little nap," he suggested. "The kids are over at
their friend's."
"And I've got a ton of stuff to
do around here," she said, pushing him playfully away. "Now you go scoot."
Joe reluctantly took the hint.
"All right, but you never know
what you might have missed."
She laughed, "Yeah, you and me,
both."
Joe went out and hung out with his
neighbor, just talking and chatting, while the old guy plunked away target
practicing. After a while Tuomas suggested Joe come inside for a cup of coffee and
Joe readily agreed. Kari watched them on and off until they went in. She was a
cashier at a grocery store a fifteen minute drive away. Today was her day off.
She continued with her chores, most of which she enjoyed doing, happy for her
husband and his friend, taking her time as she finished up with her dusting,
enjoying the peace and tranquility of her home on this quiet afternoon.
Joe burst through the back door a half
hour after she had finished and was relaxing on the couch, reading a new Ann
Cleeves novel. He was excited. "Tuomas is showing me how to make Finnish
meatballs. He wants to know if you and the kids want to come over for
dinner."
Joe and Kari tried to go out to
dinner on most Saturday nights. They felt their marriage was stronger for
taking sometime to themselves, away from the twins for just a few hours a week.
Plus, they enjoyed their time together, both being as busy with their jobs as
they were. But Tuomas was a special person to them, and although they had
gotten to know him very well this past year, the man was still somewhat of an
enigma. This was the first time he'd ever invited them to dinner. "I'd say
tell him yes, Kari said, enthusiastic and clapping her hands. "It'll be
fun."
And it was, even though none of them
could pronoun the Finnish name for the dish, Lihapullat, no matter how patient
Tuomas was trying to teach them. Jenny came the closest with
"e-ha-pull-et". One outcome, though, was that Jeremy finally got his
wish about learning to play an instrument. While Tuomas was showing everyone
around his home, the guitar in the corner of the living room caught the young
boy's eye. "Can you please teach me to play?" he pleaded, "Please,
please, please."Much to the chagrin of his parents. But Tuomas rose to the
occasion, agreeing to show the boy some basic chords. "Maybe even teach
you a little song, too." Was how he put it. Later, when the meal was over
and Joe and Kari and Jenny were in the kitchen doing the dishes, Tuomas sat
Jeremy down in the living room and taught him a song, much to the young boy's
delight. Soon, the chorus of Woody Guthrie's classic, "This Land Is Your
Land" was ringing through the house. Joe and Kari and Jenny came in from
the kitchen and joined in, singing along and laughing and having fun. It was,
to say the least, a memorable evening, made even more so when Tuomas agreed to
come over when the kids got home from school, "if it was convenient" was
how he put it, to continue with Jeremy's lessons. It turned out, not
surprisingly, that it was convenient most everyday day. By this time the kids
had developed a deep and lasting affection for the old man and now were calling
him Grandpa Tom, much to everyone's delight.
Tuomas spent a few days around
Thanksgiving at his eldest daughter's home with her family in Duluth, a town located
three hours north on the shore of Lake Superior. And he spent about five days
around Christmas with his second eldest daughter and her family and the rest of
his daughters and their families in Grand Marias, way north of Duluth, up near
the Canadian border. New Year's Eve he spent with Joe and Kari and the twins.
When he knocked at the door around
5:00 pm, the twins excitedly answered. "Grandpa Tom's here," they
cried out, jumping and clapping their hands. They had learned to genuinely find
a place in their hearts for the old guy, ever since early in the summer when he
had started taking them fishing out on the lake, liking it enough to go back
with 'Grandpa Tom' as often as he'd take them. Then there were the guitar
lessons with Jeremy, with him excelling beyond anyone's expectations. He'd even
recently begun showing Jenny some simple cooking recipes, too. Finnish, of
course. So Tuomas's membership in the family was unanimous. No longer 'ad hoc',
he was now welcomed with open arms as a bonified member. "Come on
in," the twins jostled for his attention until he put up a hand, stopping
them.
"Hold on there J and J,"
as he sometimes called them. "Calm down or you won't get your
presents." They immediately turned quiet, causing Joe and Kari to look at
each other wordlessly, wondering why they were hardly ever that well behaved for
them. From behind his back Tuomas pulled out a present for each of them. The
boxes were long and festively wrapped with pretty red and green paper and
cheerful ribbons. "Here you go. One for each of you."
The kids looked at their parents who
silently gave them the nod to go ahead. They tore into the packages, paper
flying, exclaiming moments later, "Yea, new fishing poles." They were
nice new fiberglass rods with Zebco casting reels. Close to top of the line.
Tuomas looked at Joe and Kari,
almost apologetically, "I just wanted to do something special for
them." The kids ran off to get their coats on their way to go outside to
practice casting even though the temperature was a cold eighteen degrees.
Joe walked over to the old man and
gave him a friendly hand shake and put his hand on his shoulder."You did
great, Tuomas. You did real good."
And Kari took it a step further,
giving him a big hug. "Thank you so much, Tuomas. You're a wonderful
neighbor."
To which Joe added, "And a good
friend."
After the kids came in, Joe started
a fire in the fireplace and their spent the evening drinking hot chocolate,
eating popcorn and playing card games, where it was discovered that Tuomas was
particularly adept at Hearts. They rang in the New Year with a highly
competitive game of Charades with the team of Joe and Kari, calling themselves
by the unimaginative name of 'The Parents', getting thoroughly trounced by 'The
Youngster' team of Jeremy, Jenny and Tuomas. Later that night, actually, early
New Year's Day, after the kids had gone to bed and Tuomas had said a hearty and
heartfelt good-bye, Joe and Kari fell into the deepest sleep each of them had
had in a long, long while. It had been the happiest New Year's Eve they'd ever
had.
So, it was the last thing either of them
could have imagined the next day when Kari sent Joe over around noon with a
container of vegetable soup she had made when he found Tuomas laying on the
floor of his kitchen. Frantically he ran to his friend and felt for a pulse.
There was none. He was cold. Joe frantically called 911 and the police and ambulance
arrived ten minutes later within minutes of each other. But it was too late.
Tuomas, who Joe had come to look at as much more than just a friend, would no
longer be with him. His time had come. He was gone.
The funeral was held at a Lutheran
Church just a mile from where they lived. All of Tuomas's daughters and husbands
and kids and grandkids were there, of course, but Joe was surprised that there
was a good representation from the barge company where Tuomas had worked for so
many years. Everyone had good things to say about the old guy. So much so, that
Joe had to step outside once, just to come to grips with the depth of life his
friend had lead, and the number of lives he had touched. Joe counted himself
fortunate that he had at least scratched the surface of what his friend had to
offer.
He tried to put it into words when
he spoke at the funeral, at the bequest of Linnea, the eldest daughter: "A
few months ago I was helping him with a wiring problem due to that squirrel of
his," he said, to a smattering of laughter. Lots of people knew of the
issues Tuomas had with his nemesis, the infamous red squirrel. "When I was
over there I noticed a guitar in the corner of the living room. When I asked him
about it he said simply, 'I've had it for years. I just enjoy playing it. I've
got more time now what with Veera gone
and all, so I'm trying to practice more. Maybe get a little better.' Joe paused for a moment before continuing,
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that Tuomas was always surprising me.
He wasn't just a great neighbor and a good friend but he was something more
than that." Joe stopped, trying to find the words. The church was quiet
excepted for muffled snuffles and a number of people softly crying. Finally he
went on, "He was kind of a teacher. He taught me that there was more to
life than just living day to day. He taught me to make sure I made time for the
people in my life that are so important to me." He looked at Kari, who was
smiling at him, and then his kids, who were each tearing up. "What I
really want to say is that he taught me to be a better human being than I had been
in the past, because that's what he was. He wasn't just a guy with a gun hunting
a squirrel in his backyard. He was a loving, giving human being who became the
best friend I've ever had." Joe looked out over the crowd, a big crowd of at
least one hundred people, and then he smiled, though his own tears were now starting
to form, "I'll never forget him."
Linnea and her sisters spent weekends
over the next few months cleaning out the house and getting ready to put it up
for sale. One cold Sunday afternoon in February she went over to Joe and Kari's
and knocked on the back door. Kari answered it and invited her in.
"I've just put some coffee
on," she said, indicating a kitchen chair for her to sit. "Would you
like a cup?"
Linnea gratefully collapsed with a sigh, "I'd love some," she said. "There's a lot of his things to go through. Mom's too."
Linnea gratefully collapsed with a sigh, "I'd love some," she said. "There's a lot of his things to go through. Mom's too."
"I can only imagine," Kari
said, pouring a cup for each of them. She yelled down to the basement for Joe. The
twins were at a movie with some friends.
Linnea had a grocery store bag that
she set on the floor next to her. Joe came up the stairs and greeted her with a
smile. "Hi there. Haven't seen you much since the funeral," he said,
wiping his hands. He'd decided to paint all of the outdoor wooden lawn
furniture, three more chairs (not counting the one he'd done last spring), plus
a table and some end tables. It was a big project, but he was enjoying it. It
was one of the things he felt Tuomas would have thought was a good idea. 'It's
good to stay busy,' was a favorite expression of his.
"There was a lot to do over there,
but we're about done," Linnea said, taking a sip of her coffee and then
carefully setting it down. "Here. I've got something for you all."
She reached down and opened the bag, taking out the slingshot Tuomas had used
on the squirrel.
Joe burst out laughing. So did Kari.
Finally Linnea joined in. "I know it's probably kind of crazy, but dad
left notes for lots of his things, and this is what he left for you." She
stopped and looked out the window toward her dad's home. "It was almost
like he had a premonition or something." She handed it to Joe. "He
left his old guitar for Jeremy and he left this for Jenny. She handed Kari a
glass orb with a snow scene inside. She shook it up to make the snow fall, a
white blizzard silently drifting over a pretty woodland scene. It was
beautiful. "It's been in the family for three generations," Linnea
held up her hand to fend off Kari's response. "No, it's Ok. He left all
kinds of stuff for us. Please take this. It would have meant a lot to dad, and
it would mean a lot to us if you would let Jenny have it."
Kari agreed to pass the gift on to
her daughter. "She'll love it," she said. "She thought the world
of your dad."
"So did Jeremy," Joe
added. "We all did."
"He also left you this,"
Linnea said, turning to Joe. She handed him a photo of the row boat. "He
wanted you to have it. He left this note for you."
Joe took the note and read it, tears
forming, 'Take time, my friend, to get
out on the water and let the wind and the waves talk to you. You'll be glad you
did.'
He handed the note to Kari who read
it, nodding and smiling. When she was finished she patted Joe on the arm.
"Sounds like good advice."
Linnea then gave Kari a beautiful Scandinavian
sweater that Veera had knit. It was made from off white wool with geometric patterns
of gray, black and brown woven into it. The buttons were made out of leather. Kari
was touched beyond words, never having met the lady herself, caressing the
smooth wool and getting a little teary eyed. Linnea emphasized that this was
something her dad would have wanted. They talked a bit longer, each remembering
Tuomas in their own way and sharing stories about him before Linnea left,
leaving Joe and Kari feeling both happy and sad at the same time. Tuomas's
death should have been no surprise. He was an old man and had lived a long and
full life. But learning to live without him was going to take time. Time that
would have to be filled, somehow, into the void of having him gone.
The house sold in the middle of
April. Joe and Kari watched the new neighbors moving in with interest. They
were a young couple in their mid-twenties with a small child and one
(obviously) on the way. After giving them a few days to get settled, Kari made
a plate of cookies and brought it over towing Joe along to meet their new
neighbors. The guy's name was Ed, or Eddie, as his wife called him. He worked
as a lineman for the local utility company. They had a young daughter, Allie,
who was napping. Heather was a stay-at-home mom. "Or trying to be,"
she said, wiping a strand of hair from her forehead. Her hair was dyed black
and cut short in the back with a long, unruly swatch flopping in front. "We're
expecting our second in May," she said, rubbing her tummy and smiling
shyly at her husband, who smiled back. She gratefully accepted the cookies,
taking a moment to breathe in their sweet aroma. "Thank you so much,"
she enthused. "They look and smell wonderful."
"They're chocolate chip,"
Kari said, grinning. "They're Joe's favorite," she gave him a glance.
Joe could tell Kari really liked the young mother. Wanting to stay-at-home with
her growing family was all it took.
The ladies went into the kitchen
with Heather telling Eddie to show Joe around, which he agreeably did, starting
with the basement. Joe could tell this was where Eddie felt most at home. His
new neighbor was setting up what looked to be a wood working shop. Joe was
impressed.
"The guy who used to live here
was pretty handy. He would have liked your set-up."
"It's a hobby of mine,"
Eddie said, caressing a table saw, and then absently scratching his neck. He
was a lean, muscular guy, a little shorter than Joe, wearing faded black jeans
and a white tee-shirt. He had short cropped hair and his arms were covered with
tattoos. On his neck Joe could see the names of his wife and daughter. 'Heather'
was tattooed and block letters and 'Allie' was in script. He was soft spoken and
polite. Joe found himself liking him. "I'm going to rebuild all the
kitchen cabinets," he said with a happy enthusiasm. Joe had no doubt he'd
be good at it. The guy seemed calm and confident. Again, something Tuomas would
have appreciated. There went on to chat a bit when suddenly they stopped and
looked up past the ceiling toward the kitchen where they could both hear Kari
and Heather laughing. "If I ever get the time," he continued,"
with the new one coming and all." He stopped, blinking rapidly, looking
suddenly slightly overwhelmed.
Joe nodded, and suddenly had a
vision of Tuomas. He saw him as the friend and neighbor that he had been. The
guy who took the time to help him whenever he could. Who went out of his way to
take him down to the lake to go rowing and take time to take his kids fishing.
He saw him as the squirrel hunter who had put away his rifle for his slingshot
in a show of neighborly solidarity. He and Tuomas had planned to take the fence
bordering their properties down that spring. They were going to extend the
vegetable garden over toward Joe's property line. Maybe even dig out a garden
for he and Kari and the kids. They had been making plans and now they were
never to be. Or, maybe not.
"Don't worry about it,
man," Joe said, reaching out to shake Eddie's hand, which he could tell
surprised him, but that was Ok. It was something Tuomas would have done.
"I'll help you with any projects you come up with." The young man
took only a few seconds to make his decision. He and Heather had not known what
to expect when they moved in to their new home. This new neighbor seemed like a
decent guy. What the heck...Eddie reached over and shook his hand. Joe saw the relief
in Eddie's face and chuckled, "After all, no matter what happens from now
on, for better or worse, we're neighbors." And when Eddie looked at him a
little questioningly, not clearly understanding, Joe just laughed. "Don't
worry. It'll all be good." And it only took just a moment before Eddie
smiled and laughed, too, thinking this might just work out Ok.
Joe was feeling good. The more he
was with Eddie, the more he liked him. His new neighbor clearly had a love of
woodworking and his tools were organized and well oiled. They were looking
through a catalog of the various hardware options Eddie was contemplating for
the new kitchen cabinets when Heather called down from upstairs.
"I've got coffee on if you guys
want any."
Eddie looked at Joe. "What'd ya
think?"
"Sure."
"We're on our way," Eddie
called out, putting the catalog away. "Maybe Allie's up," he said.
"My little daughter's a real charmer." He looked at Joe and smiled in
a kind of inward way Joe re-called from when his kids were young and everything
was new and fresh. "She just turned two."
Joe remembered. As challenging as it
was raising twins, looking back, every year was full of memories that he
cherished. "I'm looking forward to meeting her."
They were climbing the stairs when
Joe had a thought. "Say, Eddie, have you ever heard any scratching in the
walls? Like maybe something was in there?"
Eddie turned, looking over his
shoulder, "No. Why?" Sounding concerned.
Ah, why bring it up? Joe thought.
Maybe the squirrel died over the winter or moved on somewhere else. No need to
bother this nice young couple. If they haven't heard anything by now that's a good
sign, isn't it? With a young child already there and one on the way, they
didn't need any more worries. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing at
all. Forget it. Hey, let's get some coffee and let me meet that little girl
of yours."
Outside in
the tallest of the three maples in Joe's backyard Tuomas's red squirrel sat on
a branch mid way up. It was tucked next to the trunk, it's tail curved over its
back, all nice and fluffy. The April sun was high in the sky and shining
brightly, warming the squirrel's old bones. It had been outside for about a
month now after spending the winter curled up nice and toasty in a wall in the
old guys house. It had been peaceful inside. Almost too peaceful. The house had
seemed vacant and now, now that the squirrel was awake and active, it noticed
that the old guy wasn't around at all. In his place were some younger people
and the noise they had been making recently had been enough to force him out
into the early spring weather. That was Ok. He liked it outside. Liked to hunt
for nuts and dig in the soil and run through the branches of the trees, and,
yes, even sometimes play, if you could call it that. For the past few years
he'd been enjoying playing with the old guy, antagonizing him, running all over
the place through his trees and around his property, even finding a way to get
into the walls of his house. And, even though sometimes the guy hurt him with
that long stick of his that went 'bang' or that thing on his arm that sometimes
stung him, it was pretty entertaining. The old red squirrel was the only one
left in the neighborhood, all the others having either died or moved out away
from the old guy and his things that hurt. But not this old squirrel. By its
count it still had a few years left.
Hopefully. But now things had changed. The old guy was gone and some young
people were there. They had a little person that cried and was somewhat irritating.
The more the squirrel thought about it the more it seemed too easy. It was the
same house as the old guy. New people, but same old house. What would be the
challenge in that? The fun in that? It turned its gaze to the house next to the
old guy. The house where that guy and the lady and the two kids lived. Maybe it
should try them? Maybe it should play with them? The squirrel thought about it
for a few minutes, it's squirrel brain cranking along, it's worn synapses
firing, taking it's time. Then it leisurely stretched itself along the branch,
feeling both old and good at the same time. Decision having been made, it hopped
along the branch and jumped onto Joe's roof, making its way along the edge, scratching
and sniffing, looking for a way inside.
Another superb story, Jim - beautifully drawn together through the squirrel at the beginning and end.
ReplyDeleteI am having a foray into self-publishing - a collection of my flash fiction stories. I'll let you know how I get along!