1948 and Prefontaine

RDP Thursday: DESTINY

There’s a warehouse on Prefontaine Street that is, as far as old buildings go, a very unremarkable building.

It doesn’t have gargoyles standing guard along the roof tops. The windows have wooden frames that need paint and the address has been rubbed away by the elements, but it doesn’t matter because the same half dozen people go in and out of it a few times a month at the most.

Nobody goes looking for the drab gray building on the corner of Prefontaine and Jackson.

What is remarkable is a quiet series of events that happened on the top floor in 1948 that no one noticed because there was nothing to notice.

In 1948 Phillips Hardware rented one of the floors to store some of their merchandise when their stockroom flooded.

A man named Sam Agosti worked for Phillips and he was one of the clerks helping with the move. Sam moved about a dozen boxes of hammers and a half dozen boxes of rope and then he got a call that his wife was headed for the hospital to deliver their child so he left after his second trip into the warehouse.

It was a busy day for Sam and he was distracted for a few reasons so he ended up putting the boxes on the wrong floor and they stayed there moldering away for a good twenty years.

The rats got the rope and over the  years the hammers were picked up and used around the building and a few of them made their way out into the world.

One of Sam Agosti’s  misplaced hammers ended up on the tool belts of a few construction workers and one made it’s way from one construction worker’s tool box to the ‘junk drawer of a woman named Pamela- who counted the construction worker as one of her many ‘gentleman callers ‘.

Her construction worker named Paul,  his hammer and his aging body  languished in Pamela’s house for another 30 odd years.

One day  Paul caught Pamela in his work room entertaining her most recent gentleman caller on his workbench.

She was wearing the Gentleman’s hat with the logo for the bus company he worked for and nothing else.

Unnoticed by the Bus Driver and Pamela,  Paul sighed and quietly closed the workroom door. He went up to the kitchen and started to rummage through the drawers and cupboards.

He passed up the knives, he passed up the marble rolling pin that Pamela kept above the stove, he even passed up the heavy meat tenderizer.

He guessed he knew what he wanted.

He opened up the junk drawer and fished out his hammer and after he heard the workroom door open and he was sure that Pamela had ushered her guest out of the house through the front door-

Paul met Pamela, the only child of Sam Agosti one time employee of Phillips Hardware store , and Paul brought the last of Sam’s forgotten hammers home.

 

 

 

 

 

Weeds

Putting My Feet in the Dirt July Prompt#1 A bottle of hope sat on the shelf

SALVADOR DALI

” You’re just like me, ” my best friend said ” you’re a working dog, a mutt we’re not show dogs like those pretty skinny girls that men hold their stomachs in for when they walk by. “

I wasn’t brave enough to say, ” I’m not an ugly mutt. “

” You’re just like me, ” my other friend said, ” we’re considered losers because we don’t have anything to offer anyone. We don’t own houses or go on expensive vacations. We’re over fifty. We’re just broken down and worn out. “

” I’m not a loser. ” I was brave enough to say.

” Well no we’re not, but that’s not how other people see us. ” my friend said- I think she was daring me to say another word.

I’m not a loser I thought, but I didn’t say it out loud like I should have.

I  have long since put anything good I may think about myself, or have to say to myself on a bottle on the shelf and who knows? Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to take it down and open it. But I’ll probably do it alone, when none of my ‘friends’ are around.

The Pumpkin Field Exploded

RDP Monday: DELUGE

Jamie Wyeth
The Headlands of Monhegan Island, Maine

 

The Pumpkin fields, a mile or two from where I live

were covered with dust, a few scraggly plants, ‘it’s dead for sure’ everyone who drove

by it said.

 

Crows and the bugs looked at the scraggly patch of earth and laughed at it.

They didn’t waste their time there, they flew over it or crawled over it and dug under it

and headed for the muddy river banks further down the road.

 

But the Sun visited that sad old field, faithfully everyday and it baked the earth

and cooked the scraggly little plants

and the field workers fed the plants water, an act of mercy.

 

So today I drove by that field

and expected it to be plowed under

but instead it was covered with green vines and leaves that were as big as my head.

 

The pumpkin field exploded

and I am counting the weeks until the pumpkin farm is opened

and I can bring home a few of those defiant gourds and name them

decorate them, but carve them?

Absolutely not.

Edin Ellis Is Working on Her Garden

RDP Thursday: CALUDRON

Gone from Edin Ellis’ workshop

were  her copper trowel and fork

her hand held pruners with her name etched in it’s beak

and a jar of rat poison with POISON written in her neat hand

on a label with ladybugs standing guard in each corner.

 

Her hat is gone, her gloves are gone

her favorite pair of work shoes are still under her desk

her window and doors are shut but they are not locked

and  I saw right away that there was a note taped to her desk

with  three names and addresses  typed in large block letters with X’s next to each one.

 

It could be nothing, it could be perfectly innocent

Edin Ellis is out gardening today

and I shouldn’t be worried about the missing rat poison and the list of names

taped to her desk

Edin Ellis is simply gardening today- in the dead of winter in the middle of the night

 

with rat poison.