Chapter Six Hundred and Forty - A moving day (part four)
Chapter Six Hundred and Forty - A moving day

Chapter Six Hundred and Forty - A moving day (part five)

CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED and FORTY

(part five)

Thursday morning — 11:30 a.m.

“Who would have thought that we had so much crap?” Tanesha said.

She dropped down onto the ancient couch next to where Sandy was sorting through boxes.

“I do not remember storing all of this crap,” Tanesha said with a shake of her head.

“I’m not sure that you did,” Heather said, holding up an ancient dress. “This looks like. . .”

“Gran,” Tanesha said with a nod. “She must have put some boxes in with mine by accident.”

“By accident,” Jill said with a roll of her eyes.

“Some?” Heather asked.

Tanesha raised a hand to them”.

“I know, I know,” Tanesha said. “Let me just sit over here with my illusions and exhaustion.”

The women laughed. Tanesha leaned back so that her head was on Sandy’s lap and her knees rested on the armrest of the couch. Sandy rubbed Tanesha’s scalp and Tanesha’ closed her eyes.

“Have some iced tea,” Jill said.

She got up to get the thermos and cups from the back of her SUV.

“We need bourbon,” Sandy said.

“It’s too hot for Bourbon,” Heather said. “But champagne?”

“Headaches,” Tanesha said.

“Let’s face it,” Jill said. “We have to get through this and then celebrate.”

The women laughed. Jill sat down on the other side of Sandy and Heather pulled up a box.

“Can you magic something?” Tanesha said without opening her eyes.

“Magic?” Heather asked. “Something?”

She sniffed in a manner befitting of a queen.

“I assume you are speaking to me,” Heather said.

They laughed.

“Oh yes, oh wise goddess, please oh please, help me sort through all of this crap,” Tanesha said.

“Are you sure?” Heather asked. “You didn’t want me to ‘magic’ when we started.”

“I was a fool,” Tanesha said. “Please forgive me, oh, wise woman.”

Jill and Sandy watched and for a long, silent moment, they just looked at each other. Heather laughed.

“It’s about time,” Heather said.

Heather clapped her hands together. The random stacking of boxes and other junk was sorted into a large pile, stacked precariously from floor to ceiling, on one side of the storage unit and a four boxes in a row on the other side of the storage unit.

“Whoa,” Jill and Sandy said in near unison.

Tanesha sat up.

“What in the world?” Tanesha asked. “What is this?”

“On one side, you have the crap that you hate,” Heather said. Nodding, she added, “Most of it is Jeraine’s crap — his high school papers, crayon drawings, the first guitar string he ever broke, the. . .”

“The first guitar string he ever broke?” Jill asked, laughing.

“You see what I have to deal with?” Tanesha asked, laughing.

Ever the practical friend, Sandy asked, “And the other side?”

“Stuff you want to keep,” Heather said. “That little picture Jabari had with him when he came. Before and after pictures of the yellow house. Your college pictures.”

“Anything of Jer’s?” Tanesha asked.

“Some,” Heather said. “But we took a whole lot of it to the house.”

Denver Cereal continues tomorrow...

Comments

The comments to this entry are closed.