Chapter Six- The Move Continues
May 1st
3:30 a.m.
Lake Forest, IL
Michael pulled onto Festive Lane. He drove down the block for about a 1/4 of a mile until he approached the driveway to the house. The address on the mailbox read, “1-8” because the four had fallen off and never been replaced. Michael drove past the old iron gates at the front of the driveway and then backed the truck up so he could unload into the garage.
“BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP,” sounded the truck as Michael backed up in reverse, using the mirrors to watch his distance to the garage. Michael stopped about 15- feet short of the garage door, giving himself enough room to pull out the metal ramp under the truck that he would use to roll down the two-wheel cart.
Michael left David sleeping in the truck's cab as he got out of the driver’s side and walked to the overhead garage door. He unlocked it and lifted it. The springs gave off a loud squeal like fingernails on a chalkboard as the door rolled back. Michael walked to the back of the truck and tugged on the metal ramp secured to the undercarriage. As he tugged at the ramp, the metal scraped against the sides of the carriage and made an unbelievable racket. Michael had problems getting the ramp to slide out evenly and struggled by pushing it back and forth. “SCREECH, SQUEAL, SCREECH!” Finally, after a few minutes, the ramp slid out from the carriage and fell to the ground with a loud clang.
As Michael lifted the overhead door to the truck, the door slid up on its rails. He then jumped up into the back of the truck and grabbed the two-wheel dolly.
He loaded a few boxes onto the dolly and rolled them down the metal ramp, making a bumping sound echoing down the block.
Michael stopped in the garage and unloaded the boxes. As he turned around to make his second trip, a large man wearing a bathrobe and slippers stood by the truck.
“Would you mind telling me just what the hell you think you are doing?” asked the man.
Michael, who was in no mood for a confrontation, answered, “What does it look like I am doing; I’m moving into my house.”
“At 4 a.m.? Can’t you wait a few hours and let the rest of us around here get some sleep!” replied the man.
“Sleep!” replied Michael. “I wish I could sleep. My wife just gave birth to my daughter a few hours ago, and it was a tough delivery. They both almost died! Now my son is asleep in the cab of this truck, and I am stuck here moving these boxes and the furniture into the house myself. I am sorry to be making so much noise, but I can’t do anything about it.”
“Listen, hotshot,” replied the man, “This nice, quiet neighborhood. If this indicates how you plan to fit in, I got news for you; you won’t!”
Michael turned away and started to go up the ramp again, to the back of the truck.
“Go call a cop if you don’t like it. I am just trying to get my family settled after the day from hell!”
“Fine, I will call the cops. Welcome to the neighborhood!” responded the man as he walked away in a huff.
“Yeah, same to you!” shouted back Michael.
Michael was distraught and decided he would make as much noise as he wanted. He started to throw boxes around to make as much noise as he possibly could.
“Stupid people around here... I should kick that guy’s ass; what a jerk!” As Michael looked around, he noticed that quite a few of the neighbors within earshot were turning on lights inside their homes. He stopped for a moment and realized that he was making quite a lot of noise. Now he felt like the jerk. He tried to work as quietly as he could. Having one neighbor mad at you was one thing. Having them all hate you was another.
Michael continued to unload the truck in a quiet and orderly fashion. As he emptied the boxes from the truck's back end, he came to the first major appliance; the refrigerator. Michael was exhausted and decided he better wake David to see if he could help him balance the load as he descended the ramp.
Unfortunately, David was sound asleep, and Michael couldn’t wake him up. The poor kid was just as exhausted as his father. Michael refused to give up and decided to try to maneuver the refrigerator by himself.
He slid the two-wheel cart under the fridge's base and strapped the body of the massive appliance to the upright cart base. As Michael grabbed hold of the two-wheel cart, he pulled back, and the refrigerator barely budged. Michael set it back down. He took a few deep breaths and tried again. Putting all of his strength behind the pull on the cart, he grunted as the refrigerator lifted off the ground about two inches, but then he lost it again.
He couldn’t unload any of the other furnishings until he moved the refrigerator out of the way, so he had to try again. He waited for about a minute and then prepared himself for the biggest pull of his life. He put on a pair of gloves, grabbed hold of the cart handle, and said to himself, “One, Two, and Three... Lift!”
The refrigerator came off the floor as if it weighed nothing at all. Michael nearly lost his balance because he was not prepared for the lift to be so easy. As the refrigerator leaned backward toward Michael, the top cleared his field of vision, and there was the face of the neighbor who had yelled at him 30 minutes earlier.
“Well, I figured if you were going to be out here making all this noise, I wasn’t going to be able to sleep anyway, so... I thought you could use a hand,” said the man.
Smiling, Michael said, “Michael Carter, pleased to meet you.”
“Jack Stevens… I live next door,” the man, now dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, replied.
As the two men walked the refrigerator down the ramp and into the garage, they set it down with a light thud onto the concrete subfloor. Michael walked over to Jack, extended his hand, and said, “Thanks.”
“Hey, I’m sorry about before. I was out of line. Are your wife and your baby okay?” asked Jack.
“Don’t apologize, Jack. It was my fault. You were right. I was making far too much noise and wasn’t thinking about how it affected my neighbors. I didn’t realize how late it was,” replied Michael. “And yes… my wife and daughter are doing fine.”
Suddenly from around the corner, both men heard, “Dad?”
David awakened from his nap and stumbled into the garage. “Why didn’t you wake me up to help you, Dad?”
“I did, but you were too busy dreaming about your first garage rock band,” replied Michael.
“David, meet Mr. Stevens from next door. He is nice enough to give us a hand moving this stuff.”
Jack, a towering man next to Michael, much less to a 10-year-old, stepped up to David and shook his hand, “Nice to meet you, David!”
“Wow, you’re a giant!” David responded.
“No, not really, David; I just look like I am at 4 in the morning,” Jack replied as he patted David on the head.
“Well, new neighbors, what’d ya say? Shall we get this over with?”
“Good idea Jack. Can you help me with the washing machine now?” asked Michael as he walked toward the truck.
“I will get the washing machine myself, Mike. You and David start getting these boxes transferred from the garage to inside the house,” replied Jack.
With that, Michael and David began to sort out the boxes to where they should be placed once inside the house. Arianna marked each box with a black marker so the distribution would be quick and easy. As they each grabbed a box, they stopped and looked up at the truck. Jack picked up the washing machine as if it were an empty box. He walked the washing machine down the ramp and right past Michael and David without dolly assistance. As he approached the door that led from the garage into the house's kitchen area, he asked, “One of you lads wanna get that door for me? My hands are kind of full.”
David was in awe of Jack’s strength and ran to hold the door open for him.
Michael smiled and thought to himself, “Yeah, and I was going to kick his ass; me and what army?”
Michael and Jack moved the rest of the furniture into the house and placed it in the appropriate rooms. David continued to bring in the lighter boxes and put them in the correct rooms. As they continued to move the items, Jack and Michael talked about their lives and immediately developed a friendship.
In his early 40s, Jack owned a freight company that he started with his father about 15-years ago. He was indeed a giant. 6’7” tall and had to duck each time he entered the house. He was married to a woman he described as “kooky,” and they had no children. He and his wife had lived in Lake Forest for the last 10-years.
“So, Jack, did you know Martha well?” asked Michael.
“Just the usual hi and bye stuff. I was only inside the house once every year when it started to get cold. She would come over and ring the bell to ask me if I could light that monster of a furnace in the basement. She was a strange old bird but a very nice lady,” replied Jack.
“Yeah, she seemed the type to tend to stay to herself,” said Michael.
“Yes, she did, but let me tell you, she threw one hell of a Christmas party,” replied Jack.
“Martha? Really? That surprises me,” replied Michael.
“Yep, every Christmas for as long as we have lived here, she would have a house full of people. I guess she bused them in because there was never a car on the street. It was kind of weird. Lots of family, I guess,” said Jack.
“That’s strange. I could have sworn she said she was the last branch of her family tree. Suppose I was mistaken,” replied Michael.
As Michael and Jack returned to the truck to get the last piece of furniture, the sun rose over the trees to the east. Michael stared at the soft amber glow that set the trees ablaze and smiled. As he walked out of the garage and toward the truck, he was startled by a figure standing to his right.
“Howdy! I thought you fellas might be hankering for a cup of Joe,” said a woman.
She was a relatively large woman with bright red hair, set in oversized blue foam rollers. Wearing only a nightgown, her toenails were painted bright red, as were her fingernails. She wore large eyeglasses with pop bottle thick lenses. She was quite a sight, holding a thermos of coffee and two coffee cups.
“Uh, Jack... I think your wife is here,” said Michael.
“Wanda, have you ever heard of a bathrobe?” yelled Jack as he saw his wife.
“Oh, hush up and introduce me to our new neighbors,” she replied.
“Wanda, meet Michael Carter and his son David. Boys, meet the wife,” Jack announced.
“Very pleased to meet you, Wanda; coffee would be greatly appreciated right about now,” said Michael.
“Well, I’ve been a watchin’ yas from the winder in the bedroom. I said to myself, “Wanda, you should get your butt down there and make them boys some nice hot coffee and some biscuits. Here’s the coffee, and them biscuits are bakin’ up as we gossip,” replied Wanda.
Wanda continued, “Why don’t you come with me, David, and you can help Auntie Wanda get them biscuits all ready for your pappy.”
David was a little scared and looked at Michael.
“Go ahead, David. It’s okay. We’re almost done here anyway,” Michael said.
As David walked next door with Wanda, Michael could overhear her talking his ear off in that sweet southern drawl.
“I take it your wife is from down south, hey Jack?” Michael asked as he reached down to pick up one side of the couch.
Jack taking the other side, responded, “Nope. She’s from New Jersey. I told you she was kooky.”
Michael laughed as the two men walked down the ramp through the garage and into the house with the last piece of furniture.
Across town, at Good Samaritan Hospital, a nurse greeted Arianna with Nicole for her 7 a.m. feeding. As she took Nicole to her breast, she smiled and felt her warmth through the light pink baby blanket that comforted the infant's tiny frame.
Arianna thought of Michael and David. She hoped they were safe and sound, fast asleep in their new house. She looked forward to seeing them later that morning after they rested. She was half expecting Michael to be there now but knew he must be exhausted.
She held Nicole gently and said, “Your Daddy will be here soon, and in a few days, we will be going home my little miracle.”
She kissed Nicole softly on her head. Nicole whimpered as Arianna closed her eyes and dreamt of Michael.