The Partnership aka Bad DeaconChapter 12
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Marty took over the larger bedroom without asking. She left me with the studio apartment type room.
It had the camp bed’s replacement, also two very wide and deep book cases. Those book cases I had salvaged from a clean up job. They were ugly as hell, but I didn’t mind too much, because the shelves where wide enough and deep enough to accept plastic milk crates from Walmart. I bought the crates in colors so I had an idea what the contents might be before I removed them from the shelf.
I also had a library type table salvage from a different job. The top was so bad, I just stapled empty cereal boxes on it. Since it’s only use was as a home laptop station, it didn’t really matter. Since Marty had come to town, I planned to use it for entertainment at night. Previously I had used it as a recharging station only.
After dinner she had come in parked her ass on my sofa and demanded, “So tell me why you think Marcy needs to be in rehab?”
“Because a pain management specialist declared she was addicted to prescription medicines. My guess is you told the doctors that your baby, Marcy, was in pain. They had better do something or you would file a law suit. After all you are married to an ambulance chaser. Thats why I got her into the best rehab facility in the area,” I explained. “She came here because she knew she needed help. She also knew she couldn’t get from you.”
“Stop it right there you son of a bitch. How dare you judge me, You abdicated your parental rights when you left us,” she demanded.
“I’m going to give you that one, of course technically I only left you,” I explained. “If I had known what would happen to Marcy, I probably would have killed you instead.”
“You can’t blame me for her accident,” Marty said.
“It wasn’t an accident. She got her ass beat. It could have happened anywhere. It just happened to be on an empty road by a fucking Meth addict,” I said.
Marty suddenly calmed down. “The local patrol captain called me to explain what happen to the guy who beat Marcy,” she said.
“Oh did something happen to him in prison?” I asked.
“Right, you had no idea he was going to spend the rest of his life in a wheel chair,” Marty said.
“Too bad,” I replied. “To bad it didn’t happen before he gave my daughter a beat down.”
“Yes it is. As usual I’m tired of fighting with you. I’m going to bed are you coming?” she asked.
“No way, I’m going to find the news on TV and see what happened today,” I said. With that I went to my room to eat peanut butter crackers and watch Fox News. Marty went into the master bedroom and locked the door. I laughed inside at least.
I almost fell asleep at the computer. I managed to make it to the bathroom, then to bed before I lost consciousness. I slept almost through the night. It was 5AM when I walked toward the bathroom only to fine the door closed.
“Are you about through?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Marty’s voice penetrated the closed door. The toilet flushed and the door opened. I was surprised that the slightly overweight Marty looked very good to me. Of course it was almost completely dark.
“Thanks,” Is all I said.
“I saw the look you gave me. Sorry Matt, you missed your chance,” she said.
“I’ll survive,” I said.
“So how is Ester?” she asked.
“Ester is fine,” I said.
“Is that all,” she said with a laugh.
“Aren’t you the nasty bitch these days,” I said closing the door behind me. I peed in peace. When I returned to the day bed, I fell asleep instantly.
Unlike Marcy, Marty was up and making coffee when I left the bathroom after my shower. She was in her gown with a robe. She looked to good to have make it to fifty without some surgery.
“I meant to ask you in NJ how much does a boob job like that go for these days?” I asked.
“Not to worry Matt, you will never be able to afford it. Or were you thinking of a prick lift,” she said with a smile.
“Look, why don’t we declare a truce until Marcy completes rehab?” I asked.
“Okay I’ll give it a try. So what are you doing today,” Marty asked.
“I have to pick up groceries for the Soup Kitchen,” I said. “Then clean out the house of an old lady who is in a nursing home.”
“Well I think I’ll keep you company, just in case something happens,” Marty said.
“First I’m going to have a bowl of cereal,” I said opening the refrigerator.
“Oh no, I’m going to make your breakfast this morning. It’s the least I can do for you. Have a cup of coffee and I’ll take a quick shower, then I can cook,” she offered.
“You don’t have to, but that would be very nice,” I said.
“Don’t get your hopes up. I checked while the coffee brewed. It’s going to be corned beef hash and eggs. So just enjoy the coffee for now,” she said.
I checked the Email and found a total of three stops for the morning’s Soup Kitchen run. Each stop was a church or a supermarket. It was a typical day’s work.
The breakfast was very good, even though I was forced to wash the dishes. Marty’s comment about me washing dishes was, “What kind of person doesn’t have a dishwasher?”
“One who is still living in the 1950’s.” I suggested.
“You are in your fifties, not your nineties,” she said. “You can wash the dishes while I finish dressing.”
“Put a rush on it. I have a lot to do today,” I said.
“Mediocrity is fast and dirty. Perfection takes longer,” she said.
“How about we setting for fast and dirty this morning. It is a work day,” I said.
Well I did bring a pair of men’s carpenter jeans. They are my work clothes,” she said.
“I hope you wear a top,” I suggested smiling at her.
“Of course,” she said.
When she returned to the kitchen, I was drinking a third cup of coffee, She was indeed wearing carpenter style jeans. They must have been for a teenage boy, not a man. She was also wearing a navy blue tee shirt with some upscale department store’s logo. It was tight as well. She saw me looking.
“What? you didn’t think I was going to allow this boob job to go to waste did you?” she asked.
“Of course not,” I said. “If we run short of cash you can always get a job as a pole dancer.”
“You would like that wouldn’t you?” she asked.
“Of course I would,” I said honestly.
Marty’s idea of helping was a lot like Marcy’s. I consisted of entertaining the church ladies while the men of the church helped me load the donated food. Then I drove it to he soup kitchen where men who were homeless helped to unload the donations. I made enough cash to pay for the gas and maybe a candy bar. I certainly didn’t make enough to buy lunch.
“Who are you calling?” Marty asked.
“I’m calling to get Sarah to help us load up granny’s house. The kids took everything that they want, so whats left goes to the landfill,” I said.
“You are take appliances?” she asked.
“Sure, I load them on the trailer then run them by Tony’s place. He gives me a couple of bucks for them,” I said, “But today the appliances are gone. The grand kids called Tony themselves.”
“So what do you think is there? Maybe some antiques?” she asked.
“Mostly old furniture some tools and junk mostly. I charge them a small fee to haul it to the landfill and there is the landfill fee. In addition I keep anything I take a liking to,” I replied.
“What do you consider your best find?” she asked as we walked into the house.
“Some antique fishing rods and lures, one time. Then I get a lot of bicycles, none are antique or classics. They are just good for parts mostly,” I admitted.
“Who the hell are you and were is the Deacon?” Sarah asked as she stood in the entrance hands on her hips.
“I’m the ex wife and you must be Sarah, the teenager who got my daughter in trouble,” Marty said.
“She got herself in trouble. I see now where she got that stick up her ass,” Sarah said.
“You are just so cute for a delinquent,” Marty said smiling.
“Thanks grandma,” Sarah said with a smile of her own.
Marty resorted to her typical response, “Bitch,” and walked away.
“Thanks Marty, I understand Deacon more now,” Sarah said.
Since they had not required me to separate them, I strolled into the living room. “So go through and take anything you think is worth saving into the kitchen. All the landfill stuff going out to the trailer. The wooden furniture I save to heat the workshop. So we will load it on a second trip if we need one,”
“That sofa is definitely landfill,” Marty said.
“But those end table will burn,” I agreed, “That takes care of the living room. Someone took the old lady’s lamps.”
We moved into her dining room. Someone had taken the table and chairs, but left stack and stack of dishes. “Marty sort through those boxes and see if there is a full set of anything or if anything is a collectable,” I suggested. “Sarah you can help me load the trailer.”
After three hours we had a load for the landfill and some things for my collection. There was even piece or two for a yard sale at the once a month municipal flea market. I drove to the landfill then back to get the wooden furniture to burn in my wood stove. Finally I paid Sarah for her help and I headed home.
“You know that was fun, I guess. It took my mind off Marcy,” she said. “Just so you know, I left a message for Marcy’s doctor. The one who is juggling her medicine.”
“I figured that was coming. I do hope you didn’t make any demands because they will stop responding to you,” I informed her.
“This is your responsibility, Marcy wanted to come here obviously for this,” Marty said.
“Well, let’s see if she has the stuff to get clean, then stay clean,” I said.
“You can be such a prick,” Marty said. “Maybe though, that’s what she needs right now.”
“We will see. By the way there are those who think you are the prick in the family,” I suggested.
“I get that feeling from Sarah. I can’t wait to meet her mother. Should I take a few wrestling lessons,” Marty asked.
“We could go watch naked mud wrestling down in Biloxi,” I suggested with a leer.
“I’ll pass. As a matter of fact is there a Chinese take out in this area?” she asked.
“Sure, let me drop the trailer and take a quick shower. You can order the food and I’ll go for it while you shower,” I suggested.
“There you go again. You have to organize everything. You are so anal,” Marty said.
“And you are so OCD,” I shot back at her.
“No wonder we couldn’t make it together,” she said.
I let that one drop so I could live to fight another day. if I continued to fight with her, She would piss me off and one of us would die,
Marty was all clean and sweet smelling when I arrived with the Chinese thank out. Eating in my kitchen on the Counter hanging on the wall was not her thing. I reveled in her discomfort.
“Don’t you ever come across a real dining room table?” she asked.
“Sure but they are in terrible condition, or are way to large for this space. The floating counter top was the best I could do. It’s like half an old style diner booth.” I explained. “With stools.”
“Thank god it’s a little longer than that,” Marty said the first constructive thing about the counter.
“I have TV trays for the living room. We can eat in there next time if you prefer,” I suggested.
“We will see,” she said.
After dinner Marty sat watching TV with me in the living room. There was nothing on that we could agree on, so we found a new Hallmark channel movie. I agreed to watch the fluff because she had been a good sport about riding with me on my work day.
The movie was about a murder which just happened on the job site of a beautiful house flipper. One who dressed in low cut tee shirts while she worked. We mostly made smart ass remarks about how unbelievable it was.
Ed called just as the movie ended, so I left her alone in the living room. I went to my room and logged onto the computer. I heard her when she went to bed, but I didn’t move. I remembered her fondly, but I didn’t feel the need to relive old memories.
The next morning when she awoke the coffee was brewing. She went straight to the pot and poured herself a cup.
“Thanks honey, you were great,” she said.
“You are welcome even though I have no idea what you are talking about,” I said.
“Are you sure you didn’t come to my bed last night?” she asked. “It seemed so real.”
“I might have a little dementia going on, but I would remember that,” I said.
“If you had been there you sure as hell would remember,” she said.
“So what’s your plan for today?” I asked.
“Why I’m going with you. You need me to keep you on track and to keep that kid from taking way too many smoke breaks,” Marty said.
“Oh I don’t pay her for the smoke breaks,” I said.
“Tell me something how do you manage. You lose money on the soup kitchen?” Marty asked.
“Everybody concerned with the soup kitchen does. I made sure of that before I got involved. There are no employees. The people of the county sign up for work shifts. There is one part time lady who organizes things and does the scheduling. Her salary is twenty K a year. It’s just my way of giving back,” I said.
“Your price to clean out that house was way less than market value,” Marty said.
“The Philadelphia market maybe. Here things work on a different value scale,” I said. “Also the fact that my retirement pension pays the house payment and utilities helps a lot.”
“Okay maybe you do know what you are doing. Ed is going to want to pay Marcy’s copay, so let him feel superior and we can laugh at him,” She added.
“Not this time. I’m going to have the final say on how I spend my money. I am going to pressure her to do the right thing. You two just throw money at the problem so that you don’t have to be bothered,” I said.
“That’s not fair and you know it. Some of the decisions we made could maybe have been handled better, but we had her best interest at heart, ‘ she said.
“Like insisting the doctors give Marcy more pain meds than she needed. That is so you Marty,” I said.
“Fuck you,” she said “I’m going to take a shower and this is not over.”
“I would have bet on that,” I said it under my breath. It was the only way I could ever get the last word with Marty.
“So what now,” Marty asked when she returned dressed in her jeans and a different top.
“We need to pick up some food from a Walmart clone. They donate about to be out of date groceries to the Kitchen. It’s a load for sure and their employees don’t help load it. Either you help, or I call Sarah,” I said.
“Save a few bucks we can handle this,” Marty said,
After we did handle it I drove to the drop off entrance. “Come on lets get this stuff inside. At least we will have some help.” I said. The guys waiting for lunch made quick work of unloading the groceries.
Marty and I were walking back to the truck when an older teenager came running up. “Mr Deacon, my mama said to tell you to come in and eat. She said I wasn’t to let you say no. Besides it’s chilli bean soup with cheese sauce and corn bread.” she said smiling. “Bring your lady.”
“Come on Marty it wouldn’t be polite to refuse. It’s their way of paying for the pick up. The grocery store refused to pay for the trip. Once in a while I get invited to lunch,” I explained.
“Okay, but tell me is that girl a white child pretending to be black?” Marty asked. “Its all the rage now in Philly.”
“Her mom was a white crack whore I’m told. The Reverend got her clean and sober. She had no idea who the father was, but don’t matter none cause Angela is the best thing that ever happened to Mama jean, her adopted mother. They take real good care of each other.”
“Did she stay clean?” Marty asked.
“She relapsed a few time, but she makes a hell of a bowl of soup,” I said holding the door to the large family style dining room.
Inside there was a cafeteria style serving area and then a long wooden picnic table painted red. Marty and I filled a bowl soup and added a cornbread muffin. Also a bowl of banana pudding found it’s way on the try. There was of course an aluminum pitcher of sweet tea.
“Holy shit Matt this soup is better than any soup I ever had,” Marty said.
“Try the muffin,” I advised.
At the end of the meal we had the Banana Pudding. “Matt we would have paid at least ten dollars for this meal in a restaurant,” Marty advised me.
“I know. I feel guilty not paying for it. There isn’t even a collection plate here,” I said.
A very large older black lady came out of the kitchen. “Mr Deacon I’m glad you decided to eat with us,” she said.
“Your grand daughter just had to say chili bean soup and corn bread muffins. After that I was trapped. Not to mention the banana pudding. Mama Jean this is my ex wife Marty. She is giving me a hand for a few days.”
“I’m trying to keep him out of trouble. I want you to know if you open a restaurant you could make a heck of a lot of money,” Marty said.
“Thank you honey, but this is better than money. Feeding people who enjoy the food,” she said. She hugged Marty before she went back into the kitchen.
“I feel like we should wash the dishes,” Marty said.
“They got plenty of volunteer dishwashers. I have already worked for our my lunch,” I said.
“You worked for your lunch. I’ll think of some way of paying you for my share,” she said.
“No need to do that,” I replied.
While I returned from paying for my gas at the discount station, Marty was on the phone. I didn’t say a word, I just got inside and drove away.
“Yes, I’m on hold for Dr. Green,” Marty said.
“Well I hope you have unlimited minutes. She is a busy doctor who tends to keep people waiting a long time,” I said.
“I’ll bet she doesn’t keep you waiting this long,” Marty said.
“Most likely she would if I called. When I needed to know something, she promised to call me. She hasn’t called so I’m pretending to be patient,” I said.
“Fuck,” Marty said. “I got cut off.”
I just smiled.
“Don’t be so fucking smug,” she said. Then she broke out in a most unlady like laugh. You are right of course. Marcy isn’t in any danger. She probably just feels sick.”
“Not even that. I think they manage it so she get’s down without big time withdrawal. They tell me she is going to miss the highs. That is really why people have a problem giving the junk up. Or so I hear,” I said.
“I can’t even imagine what she is going through,” Marty said.
“The drugs give her relief from a pain she didn’t even know she had. That’s the real problem. She has to identify her real pain, then learn how to deal with it, not hide in a pill bottle,” I said.
“When did you got so smart?” Marty asked.
“I was always this smart. You just refused to admit it,” I said with a smile.
“Of course you were,” she smiled. “So what’s next?”
“I have an appointment from yesterday. Someone wants me to drive down to Buloxi to pick up a package at the airport and deliver it to the state fish and game warden,” I said.
“What is in it?” she asked.
“I have no idea. The trip is going to be about twelve hours round trip, I think,” I informed her. “I can take you home, or you can go along.”
“What the hell, in for a penny, in for a pound,” she said with a strange look.
“Well we should be home after midnight,” I said. “I just checked the bank the deposit has cleared so we are off.”
Five hours later we were at the general aviation desk in the Biloxi Regional Airport. I gave the man at the desk a pick up authorization number.
“Your package is in the cargo holding area. Hold on I’ll have it brought over,” the man in charge said. We waited another twenty minute then we went to dinner.
“Are you carrying drugs or money,” Marty asked.
“Something from Texas I guess. Could be anything maybe an anti venom drugs,” I suggested.
“Or heroine,” Marty guessed.
“Diamonds,” I said.
“Fish eggs,” she guessed.
That’s it. Caviar,” I declared the guessing finished.
Marty and I had a ten o’clock dinner at the local International House Of Pancakes. “That was pretty bad,” she said.
“Just like I remember them,” I suggested.
“They were better when we were first married,” she stated emphatically.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“Did you ever make an overnight trip with Sarah,” Marty asked.
“She is less than half my age. I would never do that,” I said. She gave me a skeptical look. “I’m serious,” I added.
“You might not have, but you would. I know the kind of man you are,” she said. “You won’t make the move, but if she is served up by fate, you will take advantage of her.”
“Well it’s almost impossible to prove a hypothetical,” I said without giving her any more with which to challenge me.
“Do you want me to drive a while? Your back must be hurting,” she asked.
“My back always hurts you know that,” I said.
“You almost never complain,” she stated.
“It won’t do any good,” I said.
“God knows you won’t take anything for it,” she suggested.
“I take Tylenol and Aleve,” I said. “I also keep my freezer full of ice packs.”
“You are going to drop dead one day from that over the counter medicine cocktail you take,” Marty said.
“Not really, you just have to learn to embrace the pain,” I said.
“That’s what you plan to teach Marcy?” Marty asked.
“No, I plan to reinforce whatever the experts suggest,” I said.
“I will not let her become another you. She is going to live a full life. Not one shut off from all human emotion,” Marty wasn’t show anger or any other emotion. She had learned some control over the years.
“She will be okay,” I said.
The long drive gave us a chance to cut through the bullshit and get to the things that were real. I knew her fear for the future and she knew mine. It seemed to me that the eleven hours behind the wheel hadn’t been wasted after all.
It was four in the morning when we got back to town. We managed to make it to bed before the sun came up. That morning I did share a bed with Marty. As I had in Trenton NJ we just cuddled. Well maybe a little groping, but it was harmless.
Saturday morning I was having coffee when Marty came in. She looked sad and disturbed. “I have to at least talk to Marcy to be sure she is okay,” she said.
“No you don’t. You have to trust that she is okay. If you call and she is suffering you will only feel worse. Then you will try to do something for her. Which I guarantee will only make matters worse,” I said.
“She is so fragile right now.” Marty said.
“She is going to come through this. After all she made it through the police academy. She a tough kid,” I explained.
“Matt it’s raining like hell surely you aren’t going to work today. We will sit around here all day go mad,” Marty said.
“Who said anything about sitting around here. We are going to figure out how to do laundry. I’m tire of taking my clothes to a laundromat and wasting a morning. Come on let’s go buy a portable washer and one of those things you hang clothes on outside,” I suggested.
“You are crazy, you do know that?” she asked.
“Of course I do,” I said.
After my coffee, she and I drove to the Waffle House for a greasy breakfast. After an only adequate meal we drove to the Lowe’s hardware store. From them I bought a clothes washer which had to be rolled to the sink to hook up. Then after it ran it’s cycle, I bought an umbrella clothes line to dry the clothes. The line was probably twice the size I needed to hang a load of clothes from the tiny washing machine. But what the hell, I might do two loads. I even though to buy a plastic clothes basket to transport the wet clothes to the line. I had previously carried my dirty clothes to the Vietnamese washer lady in plastic garbage bag.
Since I had salvaged a few lengths of large iron pipe, I was able to make a point on one bye cutting the end at an angle. That simple cut made it possible to drive a three foot long length into the ground. It made a fairly nice hole for the clothes line pole. I chose a spot far enough from the house to allow for installation of a wooden deck on the rear of the house at a later date...
With the pipe in the ground I assembled the umbrella then slipped it into the pipe and filled it with loose dirt. I hoped the dirt would pack and hold the umbrella straight. Either way it couldn’t lean too much.
We broke for lunch after I had the umbrella in the ground. Lunch was at a small diner I had stumble onto at the intersection of two old state two lane roads. The road ran between two small Mississippi towns of Grenada County. The crossroads had also provided easy access to two more towns in the good old days before interstate highways.
Marty had never liked exploring new places. Since I could vouch for the place, she went along. The food was excellent as it had been the previous times I had eaten there. The staff all new me and spoke with a smile.
“You charm people everywhere you go don’t you?” Marty asked.
“Well it’s just my dynamic personality,” I replied.
“Right, but the food is really good. Not as good as the soup kitchen, but we can’t eat there every day,” she acknowledged.
When we returned home, it was time to unpack the portable washing machine. My only chore was placing the castors in the right place. It was the job for a trained monkey not a grown man. So of course to Marty’s delight it took me too tries to get it right.
I had the trial load of clothes washing when Marty got a call. She talked several minutes then came into the kitchen where I sat listening to the washer spin.
“Tomorrow is Saturday do you think you could give me a lift into Jackson. Ed is flying in tomorrow morning. He is going to check into the Fairview Inn.”
“Sure I can drive you and I even know where it is,” I lied. It was a harmless lie since the GPS system knew. “Can you check to be sure he is registered there. I need to get moving early tomorrow.”
“You would leave me there all alone?” she asked.
“Er yeah,” I said.
“I’ll call,” she said. After the phone call to the Fairview Inn she said, “He has registered. I confirmed that I can check in early. He named me on the register as well.”
“Good, after coffee and cereal I’ll drive you to Jackson,” I said.
I began to sing. It terrible but I couldn’t help it. “We got married in fever hotter than pepper sprout. We been talking bout Jackson ever since he fire when out.”
“Did anyone ever tell you that you had a great voice?” she asked.
“Actually.” I started to answer.
“They lied honey,” she said with a laugh. I was sorry I brought it up because she hummed that damn song till after coffee the next morning.
I counted her as a delivery when I faked my books with that the trip to Jackson. After all I did deliver her. I just didn’t charge her two hundred bucks. I did a soup kitchen run in the afternoon. Which also meant I had to explain to everyone who Marty was, and why she had been with me.
I was about to leave when they came in. They were three men in their very late teens. They were making a lot of noise and pushing old people around. “Who told you that you could set up shop on our block,” the leader asked.
Oh shit, I thought. Why does shit always happen around me. I’m a fucking shit magnet. First assumption I made was that they didn’t have fire arms. I took a deep breath and called the police. I made sure I did it openly. They had to see me stand up and talk to the dispatcher.
“What you doing mutha folker,” One of them said.
“I just called the cops. They should be here in five minutes. You don’t have a lot of time. You should probably leave now,” I suggested.
“Not before we fuck you up,” the leader said.
“Yeah man,” one of the hangers on added. “fuck you up.”
“I figured you might want to do that, so let’s get it over with,” I said.
The leader pulled a knife. “Why you doing this man?” he asked.
“If you are fucking with me, you are leaving the rest of these people alone.” Suddenly the man farthermost from me went to his knees and fell forward. Then a man with a weighted handled cane swung it and almost took the leader’s head off.
I had to lunge at the third kid or look like a wussy. It was a stupid reason to enter into a fight with a street kid younger and tougher than me. I didn’t even get a punch in before the lights dimmed. They didn’t go out, but they definitely went dim.
Someone helped me to a chair. The kid who hit me made it out the door and was led back in by a uniformed deputy sheriff. The leader of the pack hadn’t come around so someone said, “Call him and ambulance.”
“He’s an ambulance I mumbled under my breath,” I wanted to leave. I had way too much to hide. I did manage to disappear before the WAPT news crew arrived. I suggested to the crew on the way by that they be careful not to make the heroes targets for retribution.
I managed to make it home with a white bag take out lunch. I sat drinking a glass of the ice tea mix while eating my burger. I watched the local news on the salvaged TV. The reception was terrible, but I missed the soup kitchen story so it didn’t matter. I didn’t make an effort to catch at 11PM. To be honest I forgot about it completely. The swollen eye might remind me the next day of how stupid I had been.
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