Out Of The Slammer And Into The Fire- Part 11

I called Lulu back and told her I was laying low because of the wedding and subsequent funeral. She told me how sorry she was about the little girl (she and Vee had left the wedding and gone home before the accident) but that she was anxious to get some more stuff done on her house. The place had lots of problems, still, and had a lot of potential. Money was now POURING in and Lulu kept telling me how much she really, really wanted me to do the work.

Stroke the ego. Offer cash. Lulu knew how to play her cards and I committed to showing up in four days time.

I called Scott and told him he was to be at my house on that morning at seven thirty, and we would head on out there in my work van.

I told him who it was for and he was a bit star struck. “Don’t be“, I said. “Or you’ll embarrass everybody.”

The truth was, Vee was the humblest and kindest guy around. He was actually both sweet and meek. Lulu was a woman who spent her life fighting for her man. She took care of Vee. She made sure he didn’t go out and do something silly like try and chop wood. Lulu was the mover and the shaker in their little world, and with money in her hands, Lulu was in the mood to move and shake a whole bunch.

The trouble was, Lulu lost her temper all the time. Not only would her temper get lost, but her common sense would go with it. I had learned by watching Mitch how to handle Lulu, and with Mitch now out of the picture, it was up to me to play psychologist-builder-artist to appease a woman who had bi-polar issues and to make sure her house got moved in a direction that was both logical and visually appealing.

I actually felt responsible for the two of them in ways, knowing that they’d get taken by contractors who knew of their new cash flow. There would also be issues with Lulu and her bipolar problems. When she went off, most people would run and run and never look back.

Me?

I would just stand there.

Cock my head to the side a little, watch her blow up about nothing, and then wait for her to calm herself down in another part of the house. She always lost it and then went away. When she pulled herself together, she would come back- often offering a cold beer as a bribe to forget the episode, with heartfelt apologies and lots of ego stroking.

Lulu blew up a lot, but she never blew up AT ME. It was as if she could control herself that much, and that much only. She could get angry, blow up, and point all of her venom all around me, at the wood, at the stupid fucking house, at the manufacturer, at the old owners, at the original builders, and even at her dogs. If I stood there and let her lose it, and kept coming back and helped her fix up her house, she at least had the wherewithal to not blow my face off while I cocked my head to the side and watched her lose herself within herself over silly things most people have long since learned how to handle.

It was an odd emotional dance the two of us learned to play, and it worked for awhile.

Vee was most appreciative of my efforts. After all, he had been married to the bitc… beautiful woman for a long time. She was his wife, and she looked after him. She could be difficult, yes, but she could also be amazingly charming and sweet and giving and a great partner to smoke lots of pot with and sit high up on their new vista and contemplate the world with.

Vee’s attitude was “Hey, ride this train while the train is headin’ down the tracks, man…(big puff on joint…) Cool…”

Scott turned out to be a good worker but a big kid. He had little tantrums when things weren’t right, and he’d get angry at moments and throw things off into the woods. Lots of builder-types have hot buttons. It comes with the job. The fun part was watching Scott in his fancy surfer shorts, traipsing through the poison oak to go fetch the hammer he just threw because he hit his thumb.

For the next three weeks, Scott and I worked on bits and pieces of the outside of Vee and Lulu’s house, and down below us, way down below, we could see Mitch and Marissa’s house and I often wondered how they were coping.

On a few different days, I ran into Mitch at the bottom of Lulu’s driveway and I would ask him about himself.

He had earned his real estate license and was now working with his wife. Real estate was a weird way to make a living, Mitch would say. It was all commission, so you were either fat with money or you starved. Either way, you basically did the same thing.

Marvin and his wife Kim were really having difficulties. Kim needed medicating and lots of therapy. Therapy cost money that they didn’t have. Marvin was part owner in a business he shared with another friend of mine, my friend Eric, who I used to call “Baby Huey”. Marvin was in no mood to go to work and he took time off. Within a month, he had decided he wanted out of the business and so he initiated a split which required the use of a business lawyer. Marvin started with the short end on the business and ended up with it, which ruined his long friendship with Eric and left him without a job.

Marvin and Kim decided their best option was to sue Mitch and Marissa’s homeowners insurance policy and get as much money as they could.

Scott and I continued to work on Vee and Lulu’s house while a nasty little trial began.

(to be continued)