Take the Girl out of Humboldt: Part II

 

 

 

Part I link

I don’t remember why she called but I remember she offered to take me to the interview.

“I don’t want to make you drive all that way,” I protested but she insisted.

She arrived in her immaculate 15 year old Lincoln. Through the stiff clear seat covers, rich brown leather tantalized. The ends of my fingers craved the buttery softness that I had felt only once when cleaning her car. But I carefully slid my new gray wool skirt (professional but with a tiny flirty slit up the back) onto the nubby plastic.

She was my aunt—actually my ex-aunt. She had divorced my father’s half brother. And her stern face and iron gray hair simply reinforced the biting words with which she ordered the world to achieve the impossibly high standards she set. For once though, she nodded approvingly. In fact, I thought her lips quirked slightly as she took in my soft green sweater and gray skirt. “You look like an Irish schoolgirl,” she said.

 

“Is it..am I dressed wrong?” I stared down at the prim little outfit I had put together. Maybe I looked too young.

 

“Unless I’m much mistaken, and I rarely am, they’ll lap you up.” And this time she did grin a little slyly. I gave her the address and her grin changed to worry. “I need to call my partner and let her know where we’re going. This is in a new subdivision and nobody lives in it yet. I tried to get these developers as clients but they didn’t seem on the up and up so we withdrew our bid.”

 

After making a call, we headed out. For once, she did not interrogate me and, instead, entertained me with snarky comments on members of our family. Her car purred into the Santa Rosa hills high above the town. We passed whole areas torn up by bulldozers but strangely empty of human life. Then at last we wound our way into a vacant neighborhood. There must have been 50 new houses and all seemed empty. A few saplings thrust worried wrinkled limbs over the sidewalks but otherwise there were no lawns and no cars. Even at the address we were looking for there were no vehicles. I sat in the car staring at the house. Unlike the other houses, it had curtains. One twitched.

 

“Hon, are you sure you want to do this? I’ve got a friend who owns a business not far from your apartment. You could work as a motel maid. It’s only minimum wage.” She noted my look of horror and nodded. “Well, you got try things yourself. When you get in there you be sure and tell them your aunt is in the car waiting. Okay?”

_________________________

 

Tomorrow Part III

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35 comments

  • Pingback: Take the Girl out of Humboldt: Part I « REDHEADED BLACKBELT and Other Strange Connections

  • If I’d seen that curtain twitch I’d have kept driving…

  • If I’d seen that curtain twitch I’d have kept driving…

  • Twitching curtains are the first sign of trouble (well, maybe not the first). Kym, you needed to have watched more t.v.! =:-o

  • Twitching curtains are the first sign of trouble (well, maybe not the first). Kym, you needed to have watched more t.v.! =:-o

  • Remember, I had no TV for the majority of my childhood. I tended to read the extremes of books too, ie Shakespeare and Harlequin Romances. Also, I’ve always loved children’s literature. I hadn’t yet discovered mystery or suspense novels so I was insulated from ‘Real Life.”

    Although, I thought my life was real….

  • Remember, I had no TV for the majority of my childhood. I tended to read the extremes of books too, ie Shakespeare and Harlequin Romances. Also, I’ve always loved children’s literature. I hadn’t yet discovered mystery or suspense novels so I was insulated from ‘Real Life.”

    Although, I thought my life was real….

  • I like your aunt. Just driving along not saying a word except that little statement right before you leave the car, “Be sure and tell them your aunt is waiting in the car.” She sounds savvy. I wonder if she was armed.

  • I like your aunt. Just driving along not saying a word except that little statement right before you leave the car, “Be sure and tell them your aunt is waiting in the car.” She sounds savvy. I wonder if she was armed.

  • You know, I often have wondered about that too. She was raised on a ranch and must have been familiar with guns. She was a real estate agent and so probably had her share of wierdos in quiet corners to deal with so she might have. She never told me so though.

  • You know, I often have wondered about that too. She was raised on a ranch and must have been familiar with guns. She was a real estate agent and so probably had her share of wierdos in quiet corners to deal with so she might have. She never told me so though.

  • It sounds like she knew exactly what was going down but figured it would be better for you to see for yourself than it would be if she told you so she was just going to make sure she was there backing you up and make sure you got out and were not shuffled off to some white slaving market.

  • It sounds like she knew exactly what was going down but figured it would be better for you to see for yourself than it would be if she told you so she was just going to make sure she was there backing you up and make sure you got out and were not shuffled off to some white slaving market.

  • Your description of Aunt M is perfect – I would have recognized her anywhere .

  • Your description of Aunt M is perfect – I would have recognized her anywhere .

  • I wish I had a picture of her to post. Preferably at her shiny black grand piano in her tiny trailer.

  • I wish I had a picture of her to post. Preferably at her shiny black grand piano in her tiny trailer.

  • I really like your description of your Aunt, too, and the comments have put into words things that I was picking up from your piece, but hadn’t consciously recognized….like Max’s question about whether she was packing heat…my reactionto reading that was “ahhh, perfect!” There is definitely a sense of both danger and protection that comes through the piece about her.”

  • I really like your description of your Aunt, too, and the comments have put into words things that I was picking up from your piece, but hadn’t consciously recognized….like Max’s question about whether she was packing heat…my reactionto reading that was “ahhh, perfect!” There is definitely a sense of both danger and protection that comes through the piece about her.”

  • Pingback: Take the Girl out of Humboldt: Part III « REDHEADED BLACKBELT and Other Strange Connections

  • Pingback: Take the Girl out of Humboldt: Part III « REDHEADED BLACKBELT and Other Strange Connections

  • Another blog tidbit I learned from Max, cultivate people who make interesting comments. They make your blog more interesting.

    Besides I just enjoy the great comments people make. The comments are like having an online writing group albeit a pretty kind and gentle group.

  • Another blog tidbit I learned from Max, cultivate people who make interesting comments. They make your blog more interesting.

    Besides I just enjoy the great comments people make. The comments are like having an online writing group albeit a pretty kind and gentle group.

  • “Cultivate” sounds pretty machiavellian. [sp?] I do not think I cultivate people. I just talk to people I find funny or interesting or clever.

  • “Cultivate” sounds pretty machiavellian. [sp?] I do not think I cultivate people. I just talk to people I find funny or interesting or clever.

  • Cultivate is a poor word choice. Respond to people who make interesting comments would be a better way to say what I mean. Hopefully, the people feel encouraged and continue reading the blog and giving comments.

    Besides then there is the whole community feeling I get. I’m pretty picky about who I describe as friends but the other day I was telling someone in ‘Real Life’ about Anita’s site and I said, “A friend puts out this really great creepy blog.” And then realized I needed to qualify that, I don’t even know her but because her work delights me and we’ve exchanged a few comments I felt like she was a friend.

  • Cultivate is a poor word choice. Respond to people who make interesting comments would be a better way to say what I mean. Hopefully, the people feel encouraged and continue reading the blog and giving comments.

    Besides then there is the whole community feeling I get. I’m pretty picky about who I describe as friends but the other day I was telling someone in ‘Real Life’ about Anita’s site and I said, “A friend puts out this really great creepy blog.” And then realized I needed to qualify that, I don’t even know her but because her work delights me and we’ve exchanged a few comments I felt like she was a friend.

  • “Friend” is accurate. There are people I have known for years online I call friend. The fact we have never been in a physical room together is just a trick of geography. That does not dicate depth or importance of a relationship. Just proximity.

  • “Friend” is accurate. There are people I have known for years online I call friend. The fact we have never been in a physical room together is just a trick of geography. That does not dicate depth or importance of a relationship. Just proximity.

  • Go ahead…I’m sure I could use a little “cultivation.”

  • Go ahead…I’m sure I could use a little “cultivation.”

  • I have known people for years that I like but I don’t call friends. For me friendship requires some sort of …seeing the world the same way…that isn’t exactly right because it isn’t necessary to see the world the same as I do but in some area or another there has to be a moment where I look at them and grin in recognition.

    Then the other areas where we aren’t alike just seem like really interesting places I get to explore. And sometimes friendship seems to happen almost immediately and other times it can take years.

    So I “cultivate” funny, smart, people who share interests with me. I never know when I’ll realize “ah, a friend.”

  • I have known people for years that I like but I don’t call friends. For me friendship requires some sort of …seeing the world the same way…that isn’t exactly right because it isn’t necessary to see the world the same as I do but in some area or another there has to be a moment where I look at them and grin in recognition.

    Then the other areas where we aren’t alike just seem like really interesting places I get to explore. And sometimes friendship seems to happen almost immediately and other times it can take years.

    So I “cultivate” funny, smart, people who share interests with me. I never know when I’ll realize “ah, a friend.”

  • Pingback: Taking the Girl out of Humboldt:Part IV « REDHEADED BLACKBELT and Other Strange Connections

  • Pingback: Taking the Girl out of Humboldt:Part IV « REDHEADED BLACKBELT and Other Strange Connections

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