On the day before Chuck was supposed to be out, I went over to his place around 10 in the morning. I knocked and knocked on the door. No response. I went around and started pounding on the windows. “Wake up!” After about 20 minutes I heard the front door unlock, so I went in. He was in bed, covers over his head. He said, 'Leave me alone. I just want to die.”
“No, I'm not going to leave you alone and you're not going to die. I care about you and I am here to help you move out, to my place. I will load up as much as I can here today, and tomorrow I will be back with a friend and a truck and we will get you out of here, to a place safe.”
I loaded up my van and the next day came back with Phil and his truck. Chuck was up and dressed and ready to go. We worked all day moving his stuff out to my property. He slept at his place one last night and I went back over the next morning to help him clean it. At the end of that day we went back to my property. Now, since I had removed his furniture from my house, we had to pull his trailer out from the Cline's and set it up so he would have a place to sleep. But we did it. The next day he got up and built himself a storage shed. He was here.
But he would not come into my house. He insisted that I had thrown him out when I moved his stuff to the barn. He didn't want to risk that again. He said he would just live in his little trailer out here and get his head together and decide what to do next. He would give me $150 a month to pay for his electricity. I had to stay away from him, though, because he couldn't think straight when he was around me. He arranged to have a phone line installed for himself.
I thought it might be a good time for me to leave again for a while, give him a chance to be alone and think things through. I left him a list of things I wanted him to do for me while I was gone, if he felt like it. I stayed away for six weeks and he would send me emails about what he had accomplished. We resumed our long telephone conversations. One day he accused me of stealing the wishing well. I reminded him that he had told me it was a surprise for me.
“Yes, but that didn't mean you could just take it. I had planned to fix it up and sell it to you for $80, which is a lot cheaper than you could buy one at the store.”
“Well, since I had to fix it up myself, how about if I give you $40 for it? Just add it to my bill.”
Those bills were usually $400 to $500. One of the things he would do is to take loads of trash, that had been left in the shed by the previous owners, to the local dump. The really cool thing about the dump was that you could take stuff out of there, too, on Saturdays. That was where Chuck had picked up pretty much everything he now owned, including that wishing well. “People throw away perfectly good stuff.” We often discussed the idea of fixing things up from there and selling them, since we are both quite handy. We could set up a little sales area alongside the road and make a few bucks that way.
On one Saturday afternoon I emailed and asked if he had found any new treasures at the dump that morning. He replied that he hadn't felt like going that day.
In a few weeks I returned. He came out to greet me, all smiles. I said, “Hi, sweetie. I'm so happy to be back. The place looks great. Thanks for all the hard work you've done.”
“Stop calling me that. I hate it.”
“Sorry, I can't help it. I've been calling people I'm fond of 'sweetie' for a very long time. It just pops out.”
“Well, pop it back in because it makes me furious.”
“Okay, I'll make an effort. Maybe if I just try to remember to call you something else... Jerk Off, perhaps.”
“Don't try to get cutesy, Maria. It doesn't work on me. If you have to call me something, just use my name. I'm not going to let you ruin my good mood, though. I just got a call to start a job at a new garage in town.”
“Chuck, that's wonderful news! We should celebrate. I'll run into town and get some beer.”
“Yeah, good idea. Here's my bill for the work I did this month. You can stop at the bank and get the cash to pay me.”
“You got it. I'll be right back.”
The bill was for $300, that would be for 15 hours work above and beyond the $150 he owed me for rent that month. When I looked at it closely later I saw he charged me for going to the dump that same day he told me he didn't go. I even checked my email to be sure about the dates. I knew it wouldn't do any good to say anything about it, though. I already knew he would explain that he put the bill together later and was just guessing at the dates. He had explained this to me before.
Monday, then, was his first day at work. I told him to come over before work and I'd make breakfast for him. He agreed. So I got up and made coffee and eggs over easy with ham, tomato, cheese, and toast, just like the pictures he used to send me. As I set the plate in front of him he said, “Is that cheese? I can't eat this, it's too heavy. I won't be able to work.”
“I'm sorry. I thought you liked cheese. Here, I'll scrape the cheese off.”
“Thanks. Got any ketchup?”
He ate it, then told me not to make breakfast for him anymore. Okay. Then he told me it would be better if I made supper for him. I should just cook something and put foil on it and leave it on his table in the trailer for when he came home. He could then heat it in the microwave. He would be too tired to visit with me and would just want to eat and go to bed. Fine.
That lasted for two nights. One was beef stew and one spaghetti. Then he called and told me not to do that again. He said that what I cooked didn't agree with him. It had too much “flavor.” He was afraid he was going to get food poisoning. He would rather just put something in the crock pot each day to have when he got home. Okay, whatever.
His job lasted two weeks. He got fired for being “too slow.” He explained to me that he was just meticulous in his work and the garage wanted work done quickly so they could make more money. I understood. It just wasn't fair to him.
I spent hours listening to him, praising his work and abilities, and just trying to make him happy and optimistic. I've only been fired from a job once but I know what a blow it can be, even when it's a place you didn't really like working. His mood gradually began to improve.
