4. War Comes; The Last Leg: Final Details

Jeffrey and Mara

Thomas' 3rd Birthday, Robert at Scouts

Life as it Was

May 23.  Monday.  Beautiful morning.  The birds singing, chirping is more like it, with the occasional mourning dove "coo."  The grass was wet and cold to my bare feet this morning.  I'm waiting for Soledad (Soley) who usually is here at 8:15 - 8:30.  Perhaps, now that she knows we are leaving, she has found another job.

Yesterday, asked the Valley Bank for a big loan and missed the call back.  Will find out today.  In a way, approval/denial is a measure, an external measure, of success/failure, the latter of which I have not really learned to live with.  How will I handle rejection letters?

This will be remembered as a cool, windy May, more so than any one can remember.  But today is beautiful.  My allergies have not bothered me much at all this spring, some hard sneezing, but not much real shortness of breath, the kind that used to keep me tossing and turning at nights.

Yesterday I had much more anxiety than usual.  I told Cathy her attitude was finally wearing off on me.  I didn't use the word negative or defeatist, but that's what I was thinking.  I tell myself not to worry, what will be will be, and I am not really worried about not getting the money.  We can get by.  We can get Britrail passes or something like that, but I think what really bothers me is having to go outside, to depend on a stranger, in this case a banker, to get me through.  I keep thinking we shall change and live within our means, but we have not managed to yet, and here we are planning a year abroad, when we are guaranteed to go into the hole.

9:20.  Still waiting.  Cathy said we shouldn't tell Soley we're leaving until the day before we leave.  I said two weeks is courtesy.  Better for her to let us down than for us to let her down.

10:15.  Calling the Bank.  Procrastinating.  Is it better to hang in the balance than face yes or no?  Half afraid they will say yes, half afraid they will say no ...  Calm, collected.

10:40.  Said yes!  Guy changing the light bulbs on the top of the "H" above the Horseshoe, twenty stories up!

May 24.  Friday morning.  It will be 96 today.  Last night was lovely and warm.  I loaded up Kris J and Cathy's work product from Tuesday and took it to the warehouse, then bought sprinklers at Builder's Square.  Made it to Robert's game and a coolness settled in around 9 p.m.  It was lovely, but Thomas crawled into our bed during the night and tossed and turned, keeping me awake.  I awoke this morning with puffy eyes, sneezed a dozen times and blew my nose twenty times.  I balanced Cathy's checkbook, not even trying to find the $175 error, just taking the bank's word for it.

There is a lot of work to do before we leave, but with the bank loan in place, we are definitely detachable from Las Vegas.  Cathy goes in for her test on the 28th and she is to call the doctor on the 30th.

We received our insurance blood tests, etc. and I, for one, cannot interpret them.  My cholesterol seems high to me but is well in the good (I have not been exercising).  My prostate test result wouldn't have meant anything, except that Cathy heard on TV that it is in the good range.  (What a ridiculous idea: be informed so you can worry!)

So, anyway, I thought this morning that I would come in and just take it easy, think about our last days here and enjoy them.

 May 27.   Monday, Memorial Day.  Stunned on Friday with the news from Mr. John Gardner, vice consul at the British Consulate in Los Angeles: we do not fit into any defined category for our visa, so he can't approve it.  He expressed some regret, not at our plight, but that we had been misled!

I have been thinking of it each moment I haven't been busy this weekend, but I believe we shall weather it.

May 28.  Tuesday.   We sat outside in the back yard of the Kerestesis the other evening (Sunday) and everyone remarked at how perfect was the afternoon/evening weather: warm with a hint of coolness, but not sweater or even long sleeve weather.  Who would have believed that, planning as we did to leave June 6, we would not have had a 100 degree day.  We got close on Friday, but the winds cooled it down again.  We may get there, but barely, I think.

Trying to plan out my pitch to the British Consulate.

Really devouring mysteries and thrillers these last few weeks.  I was racing Robert and was through page 30 of my third book when he finished.  Mara was in the midst of a book and beat us both on our first one.  My ability to rack up pages is now legendary among Robert and his friends.

May 30.  Thursday.  Office.  Dark outside, should be lighter, but dark clouds.  The power is off.  It went off and on about six or seven times between 5 and 5:40 from a ferocious wind storm and finally shut off for good about 5:40.  It's never been off and on so many times before.  I'll take the stairs to leave.

Now what's going on in Las Vegas as we prepare to leave?

1.         We're the talk of the town.  People either don't really believe we're doing this or they are quite impressed!  We're expecting about 120 people tomorrow, wondering if 144 beers is enough, probably not.

2.         Frank Hawkins vs. Niccole Stupak are vying for city council.

3.         Richard the Fixer Perry having a beer in the jacuzzi with the Runnin' Rebels in 1989.  Jerry's contract has to be decided this July by UNLV.

4.         Big power outage here, no lights from here over to Commercial Center.  It looks like area close to Charleston is out too.

No news on Cathy's tests.  We're hoping no news is good news.  Supposed to get our visas tomorrow with Sara Gordon's help.

May 31.  Friday.  I can't believe it's June!  The sky just brightened for the first time since yesterday afternoon.  Our power at home was out from 5:20 p.m. to 7:15 a.m. or so.  For some reason it seemed to keep me awake last night.  Robert had "bad thoughts" about drowning.  I explained my fears as a child.  It wasn't much help.

Wind blew 80 mph yesterday.  Vegas World's sign blew down.  Cathy went to 6:30 mass, I pruned roses and wondered if God wasn't sending us some message, then thought that would be kind of a puny magic trick for God.

Sprinkles.  I couldn't park my car in the garage last night, the door wouldn't open.  This morning it looked like a red leopard: light brown spots on a red dusty background.

June 3.  Monday.  My mind is finally starting to go as I am losing track of all the  . .  .

I had the idea Saturday or Sunday morning while cleaning up the house after the party:  Bob Seeger's song "Night Moves" has the line, "working on mysteries without any clues."  My writing is exactly the opposite: I'm working on mysteries and everything is a clue.

Our bon voyage party was very nice.  Lovely, calm evening after the hurricane the night before.  Began raining a nice gentle rain, then a steady one about 1 a.m. or so.  The last hurrah for the LP's?  Jon ripped open my shirt as I sang "The Wanderer": "I tear open my shirt and show her Rosie on my chest."

Steve F. and Hilary the last to leave.  I drank scotch and beer.  I couldn't keep one drink, they kept disappearing on me: did I drink them all or just lose them?  Gary left late.  Bob D. loved all my single malt scotch I put out (let's get rid of it).

Sunday and Saturday packed.  Brought stuff to Kevin's.  Boxes of art work and booze to Cathy's parents.

Last night dinner at Chili's, desert at 31 Flavors with Goodhearts, Mara missing.  Today does not seem like her birthday (9th), does not seem like a birthday day, according to Cathy, and I agree, having almost run off to work without wishing Mara a happy birthday.  There are, I guess, simply too many things going on.

June 4.  Tuesday.  Beautiful morning.  Small cumulus clouds scattered over the sky, a South Sea morning.  Do these only come in warm weather?

June 5.  Wednesday, kitchen counter.  High clouds, mid 90's yesterday, no doubt more of same.  Frank Hawkins won last night.  Orel Hershiser pitched 6 1/3 shutout innings and gave up two hits to the Cardinals.  Dodgers are in first place by 1/2 game, 28W - 22L (.560).

Couldn't sleep this morning, Cathy awake also at 4:30 and we tossed and turned together.  I finally got up and took a bath at around 4:45 and read Dark Star, 1937 spy book, and watched the dawn break.

Lovely party at Romeo's last night.  Joe made a nice speech about how he knew me since high school, how I had brought excellence to the firm, moral guy, etc.  Very nice.  Cathy responded first, said how supportive firm was, Kirk and Will, included, nearly knocked her socks off.  I had shorter response, thanking everyone for coming, how this was kind of firm I was glad to be part of, I'll be back unless I make a million dollars and if I do, Joe can be my lawyer.

I chatted with Jodi, she didn't talk, just nodded her head, I finally realized she was simply choked up.  On top of us leaving, her firm is shutting down the office!

Thinking this morning, as I looked out on Las Vegas, I was reminded of arising early one morning in Maine and I felt a little bit of the loneliness, the sweet loneliness of travel, and I will remind the children somehow of this, to expect it, to enjoy the off kilter feeling of freedom and no home on the road.

The sprinklers are on in the back, our neighbor's red oleanders are blooming.

I have been out to eat: Thursday at Ferraro's with Gary, Cathy and Thomas; Friday, our party catered; Saturday, Viva Mercado's with Goodhearts and Dickersons; Sunday, Chili's with Goodhearts, missing Mara; Monday, Cafe Niccole with Gary and Jodi; Tuesday, firm party at Romeo's.

June 6.  Thursday.  Office.  D-Day.  Last day for sure.  Getting by on little sleep these days.

Cathy received a negative reading on all her tests from the doctor!  I am absolutely elated, not for me, but for her, knowing what she has had to go through, and how her mind must be eased now.

It is an interesting thing that, when I leave here, allowing for a week breather to unwind from work, the writing will be the most important.  Actually it is not interesting, it is wonderful and exciting.

Jodi can barely talk.  There are a lot of teary eyes; not me.  I can't seem to feel we're really leaving, and when we do that it's not just a long regular vacation.  Jan said she couldn't come and say goodbye, tears, I think.  Yet we've gone a long time before without seeing each other.  It must be the distance.

In looking back over the last several months, there seem to have been a series of setbacks that kept coming up, probably still will: getting the sabbatical approved, money, visas, renting houses here and there, the cars, buying airplane tickets, school in England.  Then there were worries: the school for the children and where to live.  You take them each day at a time and don't panic.

I am not teary eyed at goodbyes.  Never say never.  Live in the present.   (When I wrote my book I was in the past a lot, now, however [as a result?] better able to incorporate the past into the present.) 

The future has become the next day.