Mrs. Goodman cleaned her home and windows all the time; a cleaning cloth always in her hand.
Ella and I played on the floor with our barbie dolls. If we didn’t wake William, we could have candy. The colorful candy was tempting. I couldn’t believe Ella never took one.
When Ella left to get her dollhouse, Mr. Goodman walked into the room.
He was tall, thin with a chalky wry face.
“Do you like candy?” he asked.
I just stared.
He pointed to his zipper saying, “I have candy, if you’d like.”
On Hayward Street, everyone walked on the opposite street when passing ‘The Seidel’s’.
Wille lived there with his mother. He had mental and physical abnormalities. His head would tilt just so as he dragged his club foot and balanced his deformed hand on his chest.
Mrs. Seidel would raise her fist and yell at the boys who’d tease him. Everyone wondered where he’d go if something happened to her.
In time, he was taken to a psychiatric facility; his mother taken to a senior home.
The dome street lights cast a shadow across the isolated road.
Parking near a light, he props his law book on the steering wheel and begins reading. In two days, he’ll take his finals. Could his days on the street soon be over?
His radio blares a call about shots fired.
He turns the red and blue flashing lights on as he makes his way to the location.
Speed spurs him into the adrenaline cave.
These calls never end well. Shootings are headline news.
“The coroners arrived and left,” Ronald tells me.
Tomorrow’s Headline: *Boy Commits Suicide at Gun Range*
Depression is an illness that impacts the brain. It’s a real illness hidden for too long.
Anyone suffering from depression will tell you, it’s not imaginary or “all in your head.”
Depression is more than just feeling “down.”
It is a serious illness caused by changes in brain chemistry.
Research tells us that other factors contribute to the onset of depression, including genetics, changes in hormone levels, certain medical conditions, stress, grief or difficult life circumstances.
Any of these factors alone or in combination can precipitate changes in brain chemistry that lead to depression’s many symptoms.
Manuel scurried, as he readied the room for the new priests arrival on Saturday, his limp more obvious when he was tired.
Recently, baffling thoughts had begun confusing him. There’d been five priests transferred from this parish. He wondered why.
~~~~~~~~~
Lourdes worked tirelessly to prepare the special welcome dinner for the new priest. Her job security helped calm her concerns about her son, Manuel’s, future.
~~~~~~~~~
Father Karavalez was reverent and handsome. The nuns giddily whispered about him.
He graciously accepted Manuel as his houseboy; one assigned to each priest.
Shortly after dinner, claiming exhaustion, he asked Manuel to assist him.
My designated car seat was behind my father who drove while smoking unfiltered ‘Camel’ cigarettes.
He was a chain smoker. A habit he’d picked it up in the service.
Ashes would blow into the back seat as he drove us to our weekend park picnic outings orSunday beach getaways.
I had the pleasure of inhaling carcinogen nicotine chemicals.
Despite complaints I’d felt like vomiting, the car ride would proceed with minimal sympathy.
At our destination, I’d have to sit until the dizzying feeling passed. Seltzer was the beverage Idrank to settle my stomach meanwhile my siblings drank cokes.
Although weakened by her chronic arthritis, she managed to make her usual egg, toast and coffee breakfast.
She enjoyed her quiet mornings. She’d never thought she would. Age had greatly slowed her vitality.
Eyeing her window garden, the sun shone brightly on it. She cherished it. Thomas had planted the herbs for her.
He was the sweetest caring grandson. He’d told her to add the herbs to her salads and foods everyday. He’d said they’d help with her arthritic pain. They did.
She’d never been much of a gardener but would hate to disappoint Thomas if they didn’t continue to grow.
