A Dollar’s Worth
By Alisa Dollar
I have memories I can’t shake. The latest is Kathryn’s dad. I remember mother better because of her laughter.
Daddy was a quiet man who rarely spoke. He observed every move, every sound and when he stood up that meant something was going to happen.
It may have been to go get coffee, but I never knew if we were too loud or he heard sneaking in and out. Not that we ever did that.
When Kathryn came to college (indeed a book I should write) we took turns commuting. I was a junior and she was a freshman. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened had she gone right after we graduated. We were quite the pair at an age we should’ve been old enough to know better.
While in her car, make that her father’s car, we had a tiny mishap. It really wasn’t Kathryn’s fault, that car was huge.
We’d been invited to a friend’s house outside San Marcos, up a very skinny and wooded road. We were going there to study. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Half way up, Kathryn stopped.
“Why are we stopped? We’ll go backwards!” I exclaimed because that’s what I’d done in my brother’s VW Beetle right in front of the SUB on campus and it was very embarrassing to say the least.
“We can’t be stuck this is your daddy’s car.” I had visions of him getting out of that chair walking towards us. I never finished what I thought he’d do.
Nobody could’ve done this but Kathryn and her trusty sidekick.
We finally made it to the house. There were little scratches; but remember he observed. We were so upset we couldn’t “study.”
Kathryn, already an aspiring artist, tried shoe polish; I threw dirt to make it look smudged.
Later, I went to her house because I couldn’t let her take all the blame. I walked in and waited for her to come to the living room.
He was observing. Mom was laughing. I fidgeted.
“It was an accident.” It just popped out.
Kathryn walked unhurriedly saying I couldn’t control myself.
I realized that Kathryn, though usually animated, could purse those lips just so and give a look that meant she might “get up out of the chair”.
Moral? If you see that look, hush.
Don’t let her stand up.