Lights Off?

The Vegan calls.  He never calls; I didn’t know he knew how to use a phone.  “Can you give me a jump?” he said.  “I left my lights on this morning.  My battery’s dead.”

Charlie had to go to Home Depot anyway, being an hour since his last visit.  When he’s working on the house, he might as well be working at Home Depot.  He’s there more than he is here.

The Vegan pulled up into the coveted close spot in the driveway.  He turned off his car and went inside to go chat with his friends online.  I assume that’s what he did; I didn’t notice.  He’s a steady, dependable kind of guy with a steady routine.  Too bad he can’t get a job and use these dependable skills for good.  He’d be perfect if you need someone to chat online with skaters all night.

Charlie came home with a big piece of pvc pipe and got back to work in the bathroom upstairs.  I didn’t ask what he was doing.  I find his construction projects much more interesting if I hear about them all at once at the end of the day.  Otherwise, he might get the idea I know what he’s talking about.

The Vegan ran downstairs.  This is new.  “It’s a nice day so we’re going skating.  Where’s food?”

When I was eighteen, I prepared everything I ate.  I had eating disorders, so it wasn’t too much trouble.  I did my own laundry, balanced my own checking account, and bought everything I needed with money I earned myself.  He can’t even find his pants in the morning, his room is so messy.  Cleaning his room is his only job right now.  He’s a lot easier to live with than I was and he doesn’t have eating disorders, so I made him a sandwich.   

He ran out the door and quickly ran back in. “My battery’s dead again,” he said.  “Can you give me a jump?”

“This is one of those reasons why I got married,” I said.  “Hey, Charlie!”

“Just a minute,” Charlie yelled from the bathroom.

The Vegan went outside again to wait and soon heard a big crunch.  I assumed it was the Vegan skating down the driveway and crashing into the garbage cans.  He swore once, really loudly, which isn’t usual.  I decided to go outside to tell him he probably shouldn’t swear so loudly in the middle of the day in our middle-class cul-de-sac.  I rarely get a chance to Mom him.

I opened the front door and saw the Vegan’s car rolled backwards down the driveway and smashed into Charlie’s big-ass honkin’ truck.  The Vegan’s driver’s side door was open and he was trapped between the car door and the truck.  I couldn’t see his arm.

“Ow!”

Charlie ran outside right behind me yelling, “Are you okay?”

“My arm is ripped a little.”  He pulled his arm away from between the door and the truck, where it was pinned.  He had a gash all up his left forearm but he still had an arm and he didn’t need stitches.  It looked pretty painful, though.  It looked worse than his legs after an intense day of bad skating.

“Thank God,” Charlie said.  “From the upstairs window, I couldn’t see your legs.  I had visions of you trying to skate on your hands.”

“This has been the worst day.”

“It could have been worse.  You still have legs.”

The Vegan pulled the driver’s side door away from the truck and tried to close it.  He opened and closed it several times before it closed, crunching the Vegan’s front panel.  It sounded like a slow-motion crash.  I hate that sound. 

Charlie unhooked the truck from the back of the Honda.  The side door of the big-ass truck now has a small-ass punch mark.  The Honda was already missing a brake light, and now it’s missing a brake light and a back end corner, too.

“What were you doing?”

“I thought I’d move my car closer to the truck.  Since I couldn’t start it, I thought I’d let it roll backwards.  I couldn’t turn the steering wheel fast enough.  I forgot about using the parking brake.”

“Too bad you didn’t hit the police car,” Charlie said, looking at his work car resting less than five feet away.  “It has better insurance.”

“Should have turned off my lights this morning,” he said.  He pulled more pieces of trim off the driver’s side door so it’d close, helped Charlie recharge his car, and drove off mumbling, “I hate cars.”

“Call if you get stuck again,” I said.

“Don’t forget to turn off your lights,” Charlie said.

The Vegan returned along with the cold and rain and the mail.  The car insurance bill arrived and I thought it was someone else’s.  It had more than doubled.  Less than six months ago, the Vegan turned left on a blind corner and ran into someone.  “A shopping cart would do more damage than what I did,” he said, but the victim sued our insurance.  I showed the Vegan the bill.

“How am I supposed to pay for community college?” he said.  “I had plans to buy stuff.  Fine.  I’ll walk.  I’ll take the bus.”

“It’s not that expensive.”

“How am I supposed to get ahead?”

I said reassuring Mom things while thinking maybe he should consider another career goal.  He wants to be a mail carrier.

After a few hours of skate chat, he seemed back to normal but it’s hard to tell.  His sister, the General, got all the drama genes.  You have to really pay attention with him to gauge his mood.  You have to stay out of the way with his sister.

“Would you mind shopping?” I asked him.  There isn’t much food in the house and he likes to look around WinCo for vegan-y things.  He seems to enjoy reading ingredient labels, searching for gelatin and other animal by-products in otherwise vegan products.  Some people meditate, some people drink.  He scouts for whey.

He took my ATM card and left.  After about 45 minutes, he returned.  He didn’t seem very calm.

“What’s your code?” he said.  “I tried all these possible pin numbers.”

He showed me a list of numbers written neatly on a full sheet of paper.

“I thought by now you’d have it memorized.  It’s none of those.”

I gave him the right number and he left.  He returned after another 45 minutes, even less calm.

“I tried the right code, but it wouldn’t accept it.  I went to the other bank across town and tried it again.  It wouldn’t accept it there, either.  I’m too frustrated to shop now.”

I scraped up some cash and told him to go get Subway, his favorite.  A few friends came over so he didn’t go right away.  He spent a lot of time calming down, although he didn’t look anywhere near as frustrated as the General does when she’s not frustrated at all.

He returned quickly.  Too quickly.  “They just closed,” he said.  “Should have turned my lights off this morning.”

He’ll remember next time, I’m guessing.

A little help? [] 4:22:50 PM