The short of it is, regarding the leak in K's ceiling, an intermittent failure in the seal of bathtub drain of the apartment above. Longer, took a trip to the attic stuffed with: 19th century sewing machines, 45 inch plasma tv boxes, a Canon windows 95 desktop computer, guitars, teddy bears, old water heaters, clothes, collec ted 1960's Playboy subscriptions, blankets, mardi gras beads, building materials, knick knacks, Ronco gadgets, souvenirs, reel to reel audio tapes beneath the close tips of 19th century nails through the roof...
And a hazard that must be cleared before the tradesman enters.
It's a filthy 120 degrees, beneath the close tips of 19th century roof nails, to gather, collapse, and consolidate cardboard boxes (styrofoam contempt) fill 8 large debris bags, while reckoning this labor will fill three tanks of gas, 1200 miles, so that's not bad, and then: a fancy shopping bag, Lenox Gifts That Celebrate Life, containing two large ziplock baggies, enclosing two quart sized snap lid plastic tubs (inside paper bags).
I am a conscientious sorter and certainly this attic has its share of who knows what possessions to look for. At first I thought, bath salts? Then open the other. Calcium in an aggregate particle size I recognize - along with a faint, indefinable but dreadful smell - of recoil.
Remains...a hit of nausea, and I had to take a break.
I delivered K his old beautiful guitar the attic kept two decades at least, a soft white Christmas Teddy bear with a blue sweater. He doesn't know about anyone's ashes. It must be an old tenant, he says. Probably shouldn't leave them there I say.
Oh no, K agrees, they could be haunting the house. Maybe you could spread them in the garden.
I think of the cats who turn my flower bed into a cat box, nope.
The Mississippi, five blocks away, sometime this evening.
In the meantime, where to keep these two containers?
The fancy shopping bag was torn in the strife purging the attic.
Not coming into my house.
Not in my bikes cargo basket.
But I can live with the plastic cooler under the house. A cool shaded secure chill, Someone's Ashes. I set it inside.
and Tonight, I think I'm going to go... down to the river, and hope that's alright by you . . .
So, two quart sized polyethylene snap lid jars, containing human ashes, sheathed in paper bags enclosed in ziplock baggies, found inside a fancy department store bag in K's attic this morning, left long ago by tenant unknown, the sun is waning but yet bright, are you ready?
Ride in the black shoulder bag Rebecca gave me 2003 or so.
Okay I'll tell you two stories, I collected a lot of fine beach stuff in this bag, from the Gateway to the Spirit North America, and once religiously kept composition notebook and pen along with blood glucose monitor. Ahh. Sorry.
But the funny thing is, at the Greyhound Bus Station in Atlanta, beginning in New Orleans and headed for Charleston, I was buying a newspaper when one of its straps got caught in the dispenser and I was... Right, no change in my pocket to open it. I spent 10 furious minutes sawing the strap with a key and then ran to barely catch my bus!
You tug my shoulder. About... Quart and a half of Calcium... 4lbs? It's a lot of ballast.
What about Washington Square Park - I'm not getting a clear picture of the Big Muddy. Kind of Sedimentary? This grove with a winding path to the Nola Aids Memorial. Engraved names on granite bricks and glass faces with memorial benches. I don't know what the flora is called, long leaves, purple flowers. And how about some grass. On the lawn. Bright and sunny. Frisbees and blankets and novel readings and picnics, that sound alright?
Of course not. What am I thinking?
That I met this park in October 2005 when it had been taken over by commune hippies and barefoot doctors. It was called the Welcome Home Kitchen and it was a beautiful thing for a traumatized derelict and 4/5ths abandoned city. 800 good meals a day, a place to congregate. Free peanut butter and clothes and condoms. Meals Ready to Eat. Very Nice Vegetarian Dinners. Community.
Then the Property Owners got upset and shut it down after Thanksgiving...
Lets walk down Frenchmen. I'd like a beer from the Deli. And a Peanut Crunch bar I'll enjoy just for you. Two all smiles pretty young girls in little dresses and chubby arms just came in...
You like this kind of evening don't you? Warm golden hued, those racketing insects in the trees. Maybe you were the entomologist, I don't know, cicadas', crickets... Now past Check Point Charlies. One guy playing to no one, wah wah 70's funk, lets keep going.
A crosswalk while we wait for a green-light.
You were cared about in that fancy shopping bag, inside a bag, inside a bag and inside these sealed jars. You must have been alright and maybe just too sudden or much for someone. I'd guess you are woman about 120-40 lbs, going by previous containers.
Shoulder tug to say I know you have been ready for a long time. Balcony Music Club - Sunny Side of the Street.... We wont go down Decatur! Left along the Mint toward the River, Right through the Market. Is closing now, just a few vendors closing shop. Would I be surprised at all to learn August 21 is the day you were born. A bantering going on. He's saying: That is None of Your Concern. This is about seeing him next Saturday. Good natured, it appears, but there's always an edge to things people say, you know that. Marvin Gaye on the PA. Why'd his Papa have to take him like that, but isn't that sweet? Now live music playing in a courtyard and when we Kiss Fire... segue into sax solo - Now another left. Smells a little like Singapore by this restaurant. The waiter is on his game and a big round table is happy. Its great smelling and eating tasty things don't you think. Now I can see the Bridge. This is going to be your view, okay. Governor Nichols Wharf to the left, Jackson Square to the right, Algiers just across the way, the Bridge right now, it looks like a Joel Meyerowitz photograph, this is really fine. She and I took our 2nd walk in Nola here. A Saturday in June. That night she went to a wedding and came back a little past tipsy. I was staying in this big impressive house all by myself. We slept in the corner bedroom. Sometimes we'd try the next one over. It was like changing sets or inhabiting a beautiful painting. She said she loved me and it wasn't just the drink saying so. Well it was, but I did.. Did you know this is where I made a movie called Deja Vu with Denzel? Yes Washington. Right across there in Algiers. I was National Guardsman Buck Private DUNN. $75 a day and good food. I felt like a dope in the uniform, but at least I didn't have to wear those silly sailor white bell bottoms. Sure I had a back story - its a little grim for right now though. I'd board the Ferry with a few dozen sailors, we were going to New Orleans on leave to Mardi Gras, so we were supposed to be uninhibitedly happy... There's be an explosion set off by a terrorist to sink the Ferry. They told us the splashes would be added digitally in Los Angeles. Yes, I did, and Denzel gave me the Stink Eye for staring. Oh he is definitely a lot of charisma. So lets do this. I'm climbing down the levee over these rocks. its great being able to walk and balance and hop and carry you. Now there's a little sandbar. I'll put my feet in the water. First Jar. You are a cloud of powder drifting away from the scatter. You are a white plume in the water. You are sinking and filling in the ridges of sand. Now I'm walking a few yards away in the direction of the Bridge. You are another cloud of powder drifting away from the scatter. I've tried to throw you farther. There's a young man stacking or writing with rocks on the sandbar. A couple walking along the Levee. A man sitting up there saying Last week the water was this high. Pointing to where he sits. The young man with the rocks says it can go down fast. Yeah. Pause at the trash can. I'll keep these jars. Rinse them and keep my mother of pearl shards. If you don't mind. Walking back. The band is playing Chaka Kahn. Tell Me Something Good.
