CARWASH, Part I

 

When Tessa drove into the Texaco carwash at McAllen, Texas, the temperature was 105 degrees according to the digital sign on the U.S. Southwest Bank across the street. When she came out, the palm tree next to the carwash had changed into a weeping willow, and Salado Street had changed its name to Midway Boulevard.

"I’m dreaming," she thought. "What fun!"

While two young men in white shirts and khaki pants dried her car with towels, she looked around. Christmas trees were growing all over the place. The digital sign on the InterWest Bank across the street said the temperature was 71 degrees. She rolled her window down and sure enough, the air was cool. Snowcapped mountains rose behind the town, which was spread out behind the bank. She rolled her window up again and turned out of the lot onto Midway.

On the left she passed another bank and a root beer place. On the right, InterWest bank gave way to an insurance agency and Pilgrim’s Health Foods, and in the next block, she saw a small shopping center with a supermarket. Dream or no dream, the grocery list she had scribbled the day before still lay crumpled on the car seat, so she turned in, parked at the curb in front of the market, and walked in.

Newspaper bins at the front entrance carried the Seattle Post-Intelligencer and the Seattle Times. In another bin she saw a thinner paper whose masthead read "Whidbey News-Times." That rang a bell. Hadn’t Brian said he was spending his vacation on Whidbey Island, off the coast of Washington State?

She took a rolling basket and found the produce section. "Pink Florida grapefruit" a sign said. No bigger than oranges. Then she saw a bin of real grapefruit, Texas ruby reds. She put three of them in a sack and looked the limes over. Not in the same league with the limes on the trees in her yard. She thumped the cantaloupes and poked the green peppers. The ice cream freezers were at the end of the produce rows, and she looked in, as she always did, to torture herself with all the flavors she couldn’t have. Darigold and Tillamook. Those were brands she didn’t know. Chocolate Raspberry. Marionberry Pie. Banana Split. Double yum! Since this was a dream, why not get some? She wondered where the pies and cakes counter was.

"Hi, Mrs. Strauss," the checker said, a pretty girl with light brown hair and "Pearl" on her nameplate.

"Strasner," Tessa said.

"Paper or plastic?" the checker said.

"Paper."

"You enjoying the sun?"

That was a strange variation of "Hot enough for you?" but she smiled and said, "Oh, my, yes."

The checker looked at her funny. "You in a new play?" she said. "I thought it would never stop raining."

Tessa laughed. It hadn’t rained in six weeks.

"That’s $25.75," the checker said.

Tessa dug into her purse. "I like this sack-style purse," she said, "but I can’t find anything in it."

"You've really got that accent down pat!" the checker said. "You sound just like my mother-in-law in Florida."

Tessa was piling things from her purse onto the counter. "Damn!" she said. "I don’t have my billfold."

"Your ‘bee-ul-fold!�? the checker said. "That’s cute!"

Tessa looked at her, frowning. Then she brightened. "But of course I don’t need it. This is a dream."

"There you are, Mother!" A young woman with red hair grabbed Tessa’s arm. "I thought you might be here. You left your wallet on the kitchen table. Hi, Pearl," she said to the checker. "I’m bailing her out again."

The strange woman handed Tessa her billfold, and Tessa took out the two $20 bills she had got from the ATM machine yesterday and handed them to the checker. This was really odd. She had paid for the gasoline and carwash with her Texaco credit card, so how could she have left her billfold on the kitchen table? A dream, she reminded herself.

"And who are you in this dream?" she said to the young woman.

"Stop acting. And drop that dreadful accent. I didn’t know the Whidbey Playhouse was doing Tennessee Williams."

"It must be Streetcar Named Desire," Lisa said. "I think your mom is perfect for Blanche. She looks just like Vivien Leigh in that flimsy dress."

The redhead snorted. "Next she’ll think she’s Scarlett O’Hara. I’d better keep an eye on the dining room curtains." She put her hand in Tessa’s purse and pulled out her keys. "I’m driving."

Tessa started to protest, but the strange woman had grabbed the basket and was pushing it toward the door. Outside she went straight to Tessa’s car.

"Where did you get that dress?" she said to Tessa, putting sacks into the back seat. "Isn’t it a little young for you?"

"I’ve had this dress for years." Tessa got in on the passenger’s side as the other woman impatiently held the door open for her.

"Mother, you don’t have to lie to me. It’s your money. You can spend it any way you like. But could you please stop saying ‘dray-us�?" She slammed the door and went around the car to claim the driver’s seat.

"What do I call you?" Tessa said as the woman looked both ways before turning onto Midway. She was wracking her brain. Who could this disagreeable woman represent in real life?

"Oh, I get it," the redhead said. "You’re pretending to have amnesia again. Let’s do it this way: You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine."

At a stoplight, they turned north on Highway 20.

"I’m Tessa Strasner. I’m asleep in my bed in McAllen, Texas."

"Oh, good Lord. The last time it was Melissa Stevenson, asleep in her bed in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. You can’t get away from your esses, can you? Even though you’ve got amnesia. Are you sure you’re not in a play by Horton Foote, or somebody like that? It’s not Larry McMurtry, is it?"

After two motels and an animal hospital, the town had given way to trees and pastures.

"I don't know what you’re talking about. What is your name?"

"Regina Hunter. Regina Strauss Hunter. I’m your daughter. Your husband Saul has died. What else do you need to know to keep up your act?"

Tessa’s husband Dan was even now sleeping next to her in their bed in McAllen. She was ashamed of her subconscious for killing him off.

But that thought was blasted out of her head by a magnificent white mountain that rose up on the other side of a pasture scattered with cows that looked like assorted candies in a giant box. Dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and caramel grazed among a few maple sugars and two or three pieces of dingy divinity.

"The other people in the cast," Regina was saying, " are my husband Kurt �?he’s shipping out for Turkey tomorrow, so maybe you could drop the accent around him �?and our daughter Clementine. Clem is 8."

"Will I meet them?" Tessa said.

"They should be at your house by now. Kurt dropped me off when we saw your car and went on to pick Clem up at school. She’ll love your accent. She loves all your accents. I’m 28. You are �?but this is silly."

"No, no. Don't stop. How old am I?"

"You’re 50, today. We’re giving you a birthday party tonight at our house." She slapped her forehead. "Of course! This always happens on your birthday. Most people have just one mid-life crisis. You have one every few years. Somebody ought to do a study on you."

"I hate to ruin this dream, but I’m about to prove to you that I’m Tessa Strasner." She pulled out her billfold and took her driver's license out. Her face stared back at her, and the name said �?Stella Strauss, date of birth, June 23, 1949.

(To be continued)

CARWASH, Part II

Regina didn’t even glance at the driver’s license. She turned the car into a housing development just off the highway. Modest one-story houses with well-kept lawns and lots of flowers. Some of the lots were thick with firs. One was bordered by tall trees with white trunks and quivering leaves �?did quaking aspens grow this far north? At a weeping willow, Regina turned into a driveway lined with purple plum trees. There was a long porch at the front of the house, but Regina drove around to the side, and they went into the house through french doors.

Inside the house a nutbrown child attacked Tessa and grabbed the sack she was carrying. "Grammy, what did you bring me?" The best-looking man Tessa had ever seen came in from an inner room and pulled the child away. "It’s Gram's birthday," he said. "You’re supposed to give her presents."

He was the color of coffee with rich country cream, and his eyes were blue. His short hair was sun-bleached, and his arms were slender and muscular. When he straightened up, she saw that he must be six feet tall. "Brian," she said involuntarily.

"Let’s get this stuff put away," Regina said, and herded Clem into an inner room. As the door shut behind them, the young god swept Tessa into his arms and gave her a long, breathtaking kiss. "Happy birthday, honey," he whispered.

She stepped back, startled and aroused. "But aren’t you my son-in-law?" she said.

His laughter boomed. Regina appeared. "Mother, your face is radioactive. You just will not remember your sunblock. What’s so funny, Kurt?"

"Her accent," he said. He put his arm around his wife and she frowned at him and slipped out of it. He lit a cigarette and pretended not to notice the rebuff. "This is the best one she’s done yet," he said. "And she’s got it perfect. I haven’t heard Texas since I was stationed in Corpus Christi."

"I thought the German accent was better," Regina said, "when she was doing Sophie’s Choice." She slammed an ashtray on the table near Kurt�?s hand and muttered, "Filthy habit."

Tessa refrained from saying, "Anything with Hitler in it would appeal to you."

"Well, don’t just stand around, Mother," Regina said. "Get dressed. The party starts at 7. You’ll ride with us and spend the night."

"I’ll take my own car," Tessa said.

"You will not. I don’t know where all those people you invited are going to park, even without your car taking up a space."

Regina and Kurt’s house was on the other side of town, on a bluff overlooking a body of water Regina called Penn Cove. Tessa wore a pale green pants suit she found in Stella’s closet, but she couldn’t bring herself to put on Stella’s jewelry. What if I lost an earring? she thought. Then she reminded herself that it wouldn’t matter at all since she was dreaming.

"Mother is pretending she has amnesia," Regina told everybody, "so tell her who you are and something about yourself. Make it all up if you want. It’ll be like a party game."

Tessa counted 15 guests. The men teased Kurt about being stationed in Turkey. There were jokes about harems: What did the sultan say when all his wives were indisposed on the same night? ("This is getting downright monogamous.") One man warned Kurt that prostitutes would accost him in alleyways and throw open their robes to reveal their naked bodies. But they would keep their faces covered, and Kurt would take his life in his hands if he tried to lift that veil.

One by one the women drew her aside and whispered things like, "You’re the last person I ever thought would rob the cradle," and "You’re sitting on a powder keg, girl." Everyone commented on her accent. One woman said, "I could tell that was a Texas accent because I have a daughter-in-law from Austin, and she’s the dearest person." But most jeered and mimicked. When the last straw fell, Tessa turned to the man who had drawled at her and said to him, sweetly, "I can tell you’re not from the South because you don’t have any manners."

Everybody seemed to be having a good time except Regina, who had more and more

opportunities to display her martyrdom as some of the guests got drunk and spilled things.

As soon as the last guest left, reluctantly, at midnight, Regina said, "Your room is

ready."

Hours ago Tessa had stopped being certain that the dream would end soon, and in case it didn’t, she just couldn’t take any more of Regina. "Can’t you drive me home?" she said.

"You know I can’t drive at night," Regina snapped, frowning down at the full ashtray she had in her hand.

Tessa turned on her. "Why are you such a disagreeable woman?"

Regina slammed the ashtray on the table and pinned Tessa with her eyes. "I’ve got a ditsy mother, a husband who refuses to grow up, and a daughter who thinks she’s a boy. You tell me why I’m such a disagreeable woman."

Kurt brought a wastebasket from the corner and patted Regina on the arm. "You go to bed, honey." He dropped the big pieces of the broken ashtray into the wastebasket and used a paper napkin to brush the slivers and ashes and butts in after them. "I’ll drive Stella home."

"Oops!" Tessa thought. "What do I do now? It’s been a long time since I’ve had that kind of dream."

(To be continued)

In the car, Kurt was bubbling over about the party. "You were wonderful," he said. "And your accent never slipped."

"How do you know?" She leaned against the door, as far from him as she could get.

"Because I heard every word you said." A hand squeezed her knee. "People kept

asking me why I wasn’t listening to them." He laughed with joy. "You know what? We’re going to get caught. I can’t hide it any longer. And I don’t care."

"What about Regina? What about Clemmie?"

"You keep asking me that, and I keep telling you the same thing."

"Watch it! You're going to wreck the car." He braked just before hitting the car in front of them, which had stopped suddenly.

"You should see me in an airplane. One of these days, I’m going to take you up. I’ll put it on automatic pilot and we’ll . . ."

"Stop it, Kurt."

"We’re nearly home. We don’t have to wait much longer."

"But I can’t do this, even if it is a dream."

"I’ve been going crazy ever since I saw you in that clingy dress this afternoon. This is the last time we’ll see each other before I ship out."

"I know I’m going to wake up soon, but my subconscious has got to have some morality. It just has to. You’re a dreamboat in more ways than one. But I’ve got a husband."

"Saul has been dead five years."

"Not Saul. Dan, my waking husband. I’ve never been unfaithful to him. Lusting in my heart doesn’t count. I’m old enough to be your mother."

"Is Dan your husband in the play? Never mind. This is our last night together for six months. You can start living in the character again in the morning."

"You don’t understand. I’m not going to sleep with you."

He laughed and pulled into the driveway. She got out of the car and fumbled for her keys at the door. He put his arms around her from the back and moved his hands up and down her body. She turned around and slapped him hard. That ought to wake me up, she thought.

But it didn’t. His face crumpled in the moonlight. "What is it? Don’t you love me anymore?"

"It’s not that." She touched his face. "No woman on earth could keep from loving you. But it’s not decent, even in a dream." She slipped in through the door and locked it, leaving him on the porch.

This is terrible, she thought. He’s so sweet. But how could people bring themselves to do that sort of thing? Mrs. Robinson seduced the Graduate, but that was before he eloped with her daughter. And Phaedra seduced her stepson, but that was in Ancient Greece. Maybe she should reread Freud or start watching Oprah.

She took off her shoes and rummaged in a drawer for a nightgown. No. What I have to do is get hold of myself.

She found a filmy blue full-length nightgown as far as the imagination could get from the yellow cotton pajamas she was, even now, wearing in her bed in McAllen. When I wake up, I’ll be a better wife, she thought. If I’m not awake when I wake up in the morning, I’ve got to take measures.

Sun streamed through the window in Stella’s bedroom. Tessa sat up and put her head in her hands. How am I going to get out of this? she thought.

OK, let’s look at this logically. I got into this by going through the carwash. If I go through the carwash again, I should come out in McAllen. The thought cheered her up.

She reveled in the cool sun and the luxuriant trees as she drove back to town on Highway 20. What a lovely place to live, she thought. Ahead of her the Cascade mountain range appeared and disappeared as she drove the curvy road. Mount Baker loomed large, gleaming white in the sunlight across Dugualla Flats. Where did these names come from? She must have read them in a book somewhere. She was stopped by a red light at the intersection of Highway 20 and Ault Field Road. A prominent sign on the right had a red, white, and blue banner with "The Sound of Freedom" in white lettering. Underneath that were the words "Naval Air Station Whidbey Island." Pairs of wings with letters designating squadrons were scattered all over the sign. She wondered which squadron was Kurt’s.

Released from the traffic light, she drove on, past the Auld Holland Inn motel, with its big windmill out front, arms swaying in the breeze. Past the animal hospital, with its two front doors �?one labeled DOG and the other CAT. Past the Best Western Motel, with Mitzel’s Restaurant in front. Then, on the left, the Texaco station with the carwash.

Stella Strauss’s Pacific Pride credit card bought her a carwash token. She waited in line behind a tan pickup. A young man in denim cutoffs and a white tee-shirt swabbed the pickup with an enormous soapy pancake while a young woman in khaki shorts and a blue tee-shirt sprayed it with a long hose. The Stars and Stripes rippled in the breeze at the top of a tall flagpole next to the carwash lane.

The pickup went into the shed, and the kids started swabbing and spraying Tessa's car. She feasted her eyes on the lush weeping willow next to the shed, trying to memorize it for the years ahead when she would live among palm trees in the Rio Grande Valley. She shifted into neutral and took her foot off the brake, and her car passed into the shed. It rocked a little as blue flapping strips of cloth slapped its sides and hood and windows and windshield.

When she drove out into the sun again, two young men with long brown legs in white shorts started wiping her hood down with towels. They were bare from the waist up, except for their white turbans. Through droplets of water sparkling on the windshield, she looked across the narrow winding street at minarets.

�?THE END �?/P>