Being Don Being Donna - Chapter Three

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Monday morning. I spent the whole night tossing in my sleep in the soft, crepe pajamas, trying not to be so excited by the nifty sensations all over my body. I knew she’d expect me to describe how I felt, so I tried concentrating on the feel of the cloth’s texture, instead of her prior wearing of the smooth pajamas. Well, I tried. It wasn’t easy, but I had to have something intelligent to tell her about the feeling, not that wearing her pj’s gave me a woodie that kept me "up" all night.

Getting out of bed required effort. She noticed my puffy eyes and irritable mood. "I can tell you had a rough night, Donny. A cold shower will cure that. I’ll make the coffee and breakfast, this morning. You jump into the shower. Afterward, you’ll feel much better. Don’t worry. We’ll get you some pajamas that don’t keep you up half the night. I could hear you toss and turn all night long.

Maybe your wearing my pajamas isn’t a good idea, after all. You need your rest to be effective. We’ll skip a report about how they make you feel. We’ll talk about it after you have a chance to reflect on the experience. You have a lot of reading to do about alcoholism while I’m working. There’s no pressure, so take your time. If you fall asleep while reading, don’t worry about it. It’ll be safe for you to spend a good part of the morning alone at your place. I’ll stop by for lunch and bring something for you to eat. Then we’ll talk about adjusting your schedule to utilize the time I’m at work to good advantage to catch up on your chores and things."

She handed me a list of books to withdraw from the local library. She ran the list off on her laptop computer. It included a list of phone numbers that I could use to reach her, the hospital, the lawyer, and the county caseworker if I encountered any difficulty. I folded the list and stuck it into my pocket. I had the entire morning to accomplish the task of finding the books she wanted.

She was organizing things for me. I appreciated her attention to detail. I’d never have thought about studying the effects substance abuse had on people to be of assistance to everyone by at least understanding what happens when someone can’t resist the temptation to the point of jeopardizing their health and happiness.

After she dropped me off at the house, I went to the library on my beat-up bike. That took me half the morning. I stayed at the house, glancing through the books she asked me to read. She was right. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep, with a book on my lap, sitting in the living room on dad’s comfortable overstuffed chair.

I woke to the sound of women talking. The two mature next-door neighbor ladies were in the kitchen with Miss Morgan. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I stayed where I was and listened. It sounded as if they both knew her from dealing with her at the bank. Her resolving the problem of my need for a guardian pleased them. It seems that the whole neighborhood already knew about dad’s hospitalization. They were interested in my welfare but declined to assist outwardly. They didn’t want to be accused of meddling in something they weren’t qualified to handle.

Previously dealings with my drunken father had been an arduous task as it was. The few phones calls to the police over the uprooted bushes and smashed Volvo was as much as they were willing to do to intervene. Every neighbor feared dad’s temper for interfering and they expected reprisals. The anonymous calls to the police led to the county’s inquiry into my welfare. The neighbors were convinced I’d be better off living in a foster home than with a drunken lout.

When Miss Morgan tried coming to dad’s defense, indicating his addition wasn’t voluntary, they agreed and felt sorry for dad, but those circumstances didn’t change how his behavior was affecting the wholesome atmosphere of a nice neighborhood. The safety of the children was more important, mine included.

"Miss Morgan, I feel as you do. He was a good neighbor until Susan passed on. We all like him, and we’re sorry he’s taking it so bad, but we can’t ignore what a man like that can do when he’s out of control. Some folks on our block still have youngsters to think about. Think about how it looks to them, with him asleep on the front porch, or the noise coming out of the house at all hours of the night."

The second voice chimed in. "Yes, we’re as liberal as we can be, knowing he is tormented by his loss, but we must do what we feel is right. Donny must have a proper adult influence, or he’ll become just like his dad. He still needs guidance even if he is mature for his age. Are you willing to continue indefinitely? We see and understand the bank’s equity position, and why they want you to protect their investment, but how do you feel about Donny, personally? He needs more than an appointed ‘watchdog’ looking after the property."

"I understand how you feel, Rose. We’ve known each other for a few years, do I seem like I’m preoccupied with the bank’s concern alone? I’m sorry you feel that way because I would have preferred to see one of his neighbors step forward to volunteer to look after him until his dad recovers. None of you did, and I have my own reasons, besides the bank’s protection for helping Donny. I was orphaned by alcohol at the same age that Donny lost his mom. If his dad didn’t enter the recovery program when he did, it would only be a matter of time before alcohol takes him away from Donny, too.

Think back, to your own, grown-up children. How would you feel if none of your good neighbors was willing to help your spouse if something had happened to you? How does Susan feel if she’s looking down upon us right now? Am I doing the right thing for Donny? I don’t know. I haven’t the vast experience with children that you have. Either of you is better equipped to deal with Donny’s needs."

I cringed, staying on the sofa chair, feigning sleep.

The first voice retorted. "Well, of course, we do have that in our favor, but we’re much too advanced to keep up with the boy. We can’t be hasty to volunteer to raise another teenager. He’d be better off with someone younger, such as you. Times have changed. The world moves too quickly for us now. We’d botch it, Miss Morgan. We have our own families to tend to. My youngest daughter"

"I understand. All I ask is for you to keep a close watch over the house for a time.

Donny will stay with me at my place at night, but he needs the careful support of his ‘best’ neighbors while I’m at work. You both are at home during the day. Your husbands, between the two of them, surely easily can spare a few moments of each evening to look over things, to see that vandals don’t destroy the property when no one is present, if you ‘girls’ carefully explain to them how important their interest is at this critical time. Think of how a vandalized house will look. Think of your property’s value if you live next to a run-down home. That’s all I ask. You don’t even have to tell anyone that you’re being good neighbors for Donny’s sake. I’ll leave you both a list of my phone numbers. All you need do is call me."

There was a long moment of silence. She laid it on thick.

"Well, certainly we have Donny’s best interest at heart. We are good neighbors, Miss Morgan. We have the property of our own to protect. It must be hard on the lad with his father in the hospital. We can look after things." Said Rose Sullivan.

"Yes, you leave it to us. We’ll keep vigil and alert you or the police at the slightest sign of a problem. I heard a commotion out in the yard on Saturday, but you two were inside, so we didn’t interfere. I called Rose. She confirmed it. That man was hiding in the yard. If you hadn’t been there, there’s no telling what he would have done to Donny. We don’t hate the man, mind you, but his shenanigans have to end. It upsets an otherwise wonderful neighborhood.

"Oh, I agree Molly." Miss Morgan clinched their cooperation. "The man is ill and not in control. I need your help, both of you."

Rose spoke, the woman whose bushes dad destroyed. "Mind, you I don’t want to be held responsible. I have problems of my own to attend to. My George is using Donny’s dad as an excuse to be lazy. Points to this house and claims that he’s a living saint by comparison. It’s hard to keep a good man from becoming a lazy bum with a worthless neighbor around. If you promise to keep that drunken man away, we’ll all help you keep an eye on Donny.

"Just last week George tried to say his bad back was bothering him to get out of his share of chores. All he had to do was wash a few windows from the outside. I did the insides. He should do his share. No, wanted me to hire someone. He"

Miss Morgan interrupted her again. "Perhaps he wasn’t lazy and was telling the truth. How old is your George? Say, Donny isn’t working. If you need someone to handle tough chores, someone energetic, he might be the perfect solution. Hire him to wash windows for you. He is a good lad, but without a steady workload to occupy him, he might get into mischief.

"That boy? Energetic? Do you realize Miss Morgan; I’ve known Donny since the day he was born. That boy is not energetic. Takes after his mother, that boy. "

"Please, Mrs. Sullivan, keep your voice down. He’s asleep in the next room."

"That’s precisely what I mean. Why is that boy sleeping in broad daylight? He ought to be kept busy. It isn’t right for a teenager to lay around all day."

Miss Morgan whispered. It was hard for me to make out what she said, but I got some parts of it. "I’m afraid I’m to blame. He was up half the night. He’s frightfully depressed. He feels that he’s partially to blame for his dad’s loss of his good sales job in order to keep track of Donny. That’s what led to his heavy drinking. Donny confided in me about the block party he went to a while back. He is not happy with the way he was treated by some neighbors.

He doesn’t understand how some wonderful neighbors turned their backs on him. He’s innocent. He didn’t deserve the way some of your friends behaved that day. Of course, I know that doesn’t include you two. That’s why I called and asked the two of you to come over to chat, in the bank’s interest of preserving the value of the town’s real estate and honoring the good relationship you two had with Donny’s late mother. The woman did her best, heaven only knows. Not every woman is blessed with good moral fiber and a strong constitution."

"Yes, she was a good, warm-hearted woman. Bless her soul. Don’t you agree, Molly? It’s a shame she departed so young."

The other woman didn’t say anything in reply. I wasn’t able to look to see how she responded. She didn’t always get along with my mom.

"You two girls simply must talk to all your neighbors and convince them to help out in this time of need. Nothing drastic, mind you, just some latitude to let Donny know you don’t think he’s a bad boy at heart. No one has anything to gain if he becomes a ruffian because he was wrongfully judged. After all, he’s tackled the job of keeping the house and home together of over a year on his own, without being asked or told. It must have been hard on the buy to be thrust into taking care of a man who can’t control his drinking. It’s a shame."

"I can spare a few dollars a week for him to help out with chores. I’m sure others can, too. I tried to help out before, but he felt as if I was offering charity when I offered him some of my children’s perfectly serviceable clothes they left behind. His are shabby and too small on him. I doubt if he’s gotten anything new since his dear mom passed on. We’ll get together with the others and see what we can put together to update his wardrobe."

"That won’t be necessary. Donny deserves to be treated to new things. I can get the bank to advance funds for personal things that he needs. I have to enable him to accept getting new clothes with retaining his dignity. I’ll attend to his new clothes by insisting on providing him with new styles to dress better on my behalf. Besides, I want to guide him, myself, for my own sake. He’s like a kid brother to me. I’ll enjoy it as much as he will.

Donny needs to be kept busy in the daytime while I work, to take his mind off of his father’s health. A few dollars a week each neighbor can spare in exchange for his doing some chores, will provide him with his own spending money he earns on his own. His working for it will be fodder for his self-reliance and foster better relations with all of you. He can still concentrate on going to school, maintaining the house, and seeing his dad.

It isn’t the money, but his need to feel that he is a part of the neighborhood, being surrounded by caring friends. I trust you girls know how important it is for a young man to feel he is worth being cared about. It’ll do us all some good. George won’t be as crabby if you have Donny wash those windows, Rose. Have George ask Donny to do it. That way, he’ll appreciate the boy being around, too.

They agreed.

"Oh, my goodness. Look at the time. I’m running late and have to get back to the bank, and I still have one more errand to run with Donny. I knew I could depend on you two. You certainly warrant Donny’s compliments. He thinks the world of you two." The boy could she lay it on thick. I expected them to come into the living room and kiss me for being ‘such a good boy.

After a quick salad for lunch, I told Miss Morgan I heard her conversation with the neighbors on our way to the community center in her car. She signed me up for a class in aerobics at the health club. She asked the instructor to set up a program for me, as I was a neophyte. I needed a comprehensive regimen, including a diet for rapid weight control, self-defense, and swimming. The only part that sounded appealing was swimming. My body folds would be less visible underwater.

The rigid regimen meant I’d be kept busy all afternoon on alternate days while she was at work. I didn’t want to balk at her authority, so I didn’t say a word until we got back into the car. I hated to exercise.

"I think I’m going to hate coming here, Miss Morgan."

"You might. Then again, you won’t be able to spend your evenings with me while I exercise to keep fit. You won’t be able to keep up with me in the fall unless you get started and whip yourself into shape now, Donny.

By this fall, the kids your age will see you in a different light. You seem to like the way I look. Your body will need the training mine has had to look good enough to turn their heads. It requires minimal effort, once you get into shape. Think of it. It’ll be worth all the effort, once you make a commitment to acquire a nice body like mine and go for it! Then the fun begins!"

I wasn’t so sure.

Miss Morgan dropped me off at the house with instructions to read and clean up the kitchen from the lunch and coffee cups from the visiting neighbors. She said we’d be going to the mall after dinner to pick up a few things, so I might want to bathe and put on clean clothes.

As I walked up toward the house, my neighbor: Rose Sullivan met me along the narrow walk between our two houses. "Hi, Donny. Good to see you. Do you have a moment to spare?" That was amusing. The last time I saw her, she made a sour puss, turned around, and snubbed me with her nose in the air.

"Sure. How can I help you?"

"My George sprained his back. If you’d be so kind as to get me the ladder out from in the garage, I’ll be able to finish washing these windows. George isn’t up to it, and frankly, neither am I, but it has to be done."

"Let me do it for you, Mrs. Sullivan. George can hold the ladder for me, can’t he?

"Yes, I’m sure he can. Your help would be wonderful. My sons usually help with these rougher chores, but I hate to bother them. They have their own homes to mind. George will hold the ladder for you later when you wash the windows in your place. They need it too, Donny."

"I know. I’ve been busy."

"Yes, I noticed when I had a talk earlier with Miss Morgan. What were you doing all last night that prompted you to sleep the morning away?"

Some neighbor. It didn’t take her long to lash at me with her talons. "With word of dad’s worsening condition from the doctor Saturday, I didn’t sleep well. I spent the past two nights at Miss Morgan’s apartment. I guess I’m not used to sleeping anywhere else except here."

"Did you have trouble sleeping at the camp you went to, as well?"

"No, dad was still at home here. I had trouble the past two nights because he’s not doing well and he’s not here to protect the house and won’t be back for a while. So keeping an eye on things is up to me for a while."

"Nonsense! George and I can keep an eye on the house for you. We’re usually at home. It’s no bother. Molly Brenham and her Tom can keep watch when you, my husband, and I aren’t around. We’re neighbors, Donny. We should help each other whenever we can. I assured Miss Morgan that we’d help more, now that your dad is ill. We know it will be hard for you once you go back to school."

"Oh. Thanks, Mrs. Sullivan. That’s a relief. Miss Morgan wants me to stay with her at her place. I have to do as she says. She signed papers for the county to be my guardian until dad gets better." The old battleaxe! She knows damned well why I have to stay with Miss Morgan. They don’t want me around if dad gets loose and has a fit when he finds out we poured out all his booze. "Say, if you should see my dad here, leave him alone, uh, please. He might not act neighborly."

"I understand Donny. Miss Morgan explained that there isn’t any ‘temptation’ for him to find in the house. She also advised us whom we should call if we see him. Mind you, I’m only helping because she asked. I don’t want to put my nose where it isn’t wanted. We Sullivan’s don’t meddle."

"Oh, I do understand, Mrs. Sullivan. I want to thank you for your understanding. Let me return the favor by taking care of your windows."

"Would you? That’s nice, Donny. I don’t expect you to help for nothing, mind you. I know young boys need to have some pocket change. How do fifty cents per window sound?"

"Terrific!" Boy, I hope she can spare it! That comes out to about a dollar-fifty an hour. I’ll be rich!

I got the ladder out and pondered the value she put on my helping. Good grief! I could make twice that by delivering newspapers. Hmm. Not a bad idea, but my bike would be shot in a month from the wear and tear. I guess retirees haven’t the extra money to spare. Considering that she’s always sitting in one window or another, watching every little thing that happens, anyway, it won’t be a bother to her to keep an eye on the house. The pittance she’s offering me is in exchange for her help. At least she’ll know whom to call if there’s trouble.

Her husband came out with a pail, squeegee, and rags. "Hi, Don." I liked George.

"Looks like Rose let me get away with my sore back routine. Sorry to rope you into this." He came closer and crooked his head to one side, making it like a spy on a mission, peeking around the corner to spot his wife. "Look, kid. I heard what she offered to pay you. I’ll match that, if you keep your yap shut. All you got to do is be around when she gets into these cleaning moods. Paying for your help will slow her down, and I won’t have to fake my sore back as much."

"I dunno, Mr. Sullivan. I don’t want to make her mad if she finds out."

"She won’t find out. We’ll go out to the garage with the ladder when we’re done and you sweep the garage floor or something. I’ll tell her I paid you for that. Won’t take you but a few minutes. We’ll shoot the breeze for a while. You can tell me all about Jim’s condition in the hospital. We’ll leave other stuff for you to do for later. Every time she pays you a lousy buck or two, I’ll double it."

I looked at George and thought about it for a moment. His eyes were telling me something I wanted to confirm. People are afraid to be nice if they think someone will take advantage of them. With half a chance, they go overboard, when they know better. "Sure, George, but only if the floor needs sweeping. Otherwise, your wife will catch on, and we’ll both be in hot water." I couldn’t refuse. It would have hurt his sense of honor.

While washing each of the six windows, Mrs. S. was inside, pointing to every spot I missed, even before I got to some of them. The squeegee made washing the windows quick work. I was done in half the time I expected. When I finished she was at the foot of the ladder, waiting. "Oh, George. I left a can of soda for Donny sitting on the kitchen table. Be a dear and fetch it while you retrieve the can of beer you were getting when I asked you to hold the ladder for him."

As soon as he was out of sight" You did twice as good a job as I expected, so I’ll pay you twice what I said. I’m hard of hearing, you know. I learned to read lips. Don’t tell George, but I lip-read him bribe you to sweep the garage. Let him give you the extra three dollars to sweep the floor. It serves him right, faking his sore back to get out of doing a few windows. He couldn’t do them half as well, so I’m glad to pay you for your help."

George returned with two cans of pop. "Where’s your beer, George?"

"Changed my mind, Rose. Donny is going to sweep out the garage for me. Don’t want to be a bad example, drinking in front of the boy in broad daylight. Cutting down on my beer drinking won’t hurt. As long as he helps us out, I’ll have to in order to keep from getting a ‘beer belly’ without the exercise from chores.

"Good idea! See, Donny. You’re a good influence on George!" She went back into the house while the two of us put the ladder away. We two men sat in the garage’s shade to drink the refreshing soda (ugh! DIET).

"So, what did the old lady pay you?"

"She doubled it. Paid me six dollars, instead of three."

"Well, I’ll only give you the three she first offered for sweeping the floor. A deal’s a deal." This was enlightening. First, she tries to play cheap. He covers, offering to double it, but then only doubles the original offer when she ups the ante to six bucks. Adults! I expected three bucks for two hours and got nine for less than an hour of work, excluding the sweeping of the garage. When I picked up the broom, he told me to put it back down. It was too hot and dry to sweep and he didn’t feel like breathing raised dust or moving stuff around to do the job right. "Consider it an advance. We’ll do it when it’s cooler out."

We spent some time talking about my dad, Miss Morgan, and what plans I had for keeping the house. He confided that the two of us, Dad and I, would be far better neighbors than a "passel" of brats running around underfoot. He told me, Tom and Molly, our neighbors on the other side, to the North, think I was very lucky.

The county caseworker walked from neighbor to neighbor, inquiring about my behavior. He said every neighbor but two told her the truth. I wondered which two badmouthed me. "We figured which two feel different. We’ll talk to them, and see what’s bothering them, Donny. We don’t want to make waves. Let’s keep things just as they are around here. You’re a fine boy. I could use you, occasionally."