Fred Fridley Finds Freedom Chapter 2

Buck Thor Emberg and Joan Dehle Emberg

Pic: SB

Part 2

“Well, Fred, I never thought it would be you guys. Bev seemed to have…she seemed so…so…so obedient. I mean, SATISFIED! You’ve got everything. What more could she want?” The searing question was asked by Tony, Fred’s neighbor and friend for ten years of neighborly drinking. They were sitting at Fred’s kitchen table. Tony was drinking his third beer and Fred poured himself a glass of scotch. Tony pulled the letter across the table and read it again.

“Wow! She sure was mad. Shitty underpants. Thought you guys had a bidet in all your bathrooms…sorry, just poking a little fun. This is serious, I know that Fred.”

“Yeah, I know. She was thinking of anything she could to shock me. I don’t have shitty underpants if that is important to you.” Tony snorted some of his beer through his nose and onto the table. They both laughed. “I could tell you a few personal things about her too.”

“Yeah, try me…I’d love to know what happens in the bedrooms of ALL my neighbors.” Tony was a natural cynic. “Hell, she’ll go on a few of these weekends of group therapy for free sex advocates, take off her clothes and jump into bed or a Jacuzzi with a bunch of hippies, smoke some pot, get laid and come back home to the calmness of Canterbury Estates. It happens all the time nowadays. Free sex is here to stay…I wish…gosh, do I wish.”

“I don’t think so Tony. It may be that my marriage is really over. If she had a boy friend you would probably be right. Affairs at forty-seven usually don’t last…or at least that is what my psychiatrist has told me. Uh…”

“Psychiatrist! Shit, Fred…don’t tell me you go to one of those shrinks.”

“Yeah…new initiative from the corporation. All above Section Head have to see a shrink at least twice a year…all free, of course.” Fred discovered his female shrink was not pleased with him and learned to go silent on some issues. He was convinced she was an industrial spy…and she was.

Fred was feeling a numbness and speaking as he did to Tony it seemed as if he was talking into a wooden barrel, half filled with wine. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t depressed, just numb. The echo from the barrel rebounded.

Tony continued, “Well, I wouldn’t go calling around for her. She wants time to herself to do whatever she needs to do.” He paused. “Did she really take EVERYTHING of hers?”

Fred nodded, “Yeah, everything, even her garden tools.”

Tony gave a low whistle. “I’ll stay if you want me to Fred. It would be a good excuse for not taking Hilda to the opera tonight. God, how I hate opera. Tonight is fucking Wagner and the ‘Zebra Younguns’ or something like that. Do you think being dragged to Wagner could be grounds for a divorce? I hate all those fancy people dressed up like penguins, nodding their heads to the drums of the Valkerie…Oh, gawd I hate going to opera. Hell is being eternally forced to listen to Wagner in a smelly, hot concert hall while the steelhead salmon are running in Lake Washington.”

Fred smiled at the word picture. “It’s ok Tony. I understand. No, you go with Hilda and try not to snore too loudly. Hilda would have your ass! I’ll be alright. I’ll call the boys to find out what they know. I’ll be ok.” Fred let Tony out the back door and Tony cut across to his house. There are no fences in paradise. Dogs, cats and children are all well trained.

Fred knocked back the scotch and poured another. He was drinking the best single malt money could buy…Scottish Bruichladdich, the best the Scots produced. It was a Christmas present from the corporation and rumored to cost more than one hundred and fifty dollars. He was not shaking as he poured the drink. He was calm. He had no desire to destroy the contents of the bottle that evening. He was aware that he didn’t even have a need to finish the drink. He stood up and poured the rest of the glass into the sink; totally unusual for Fred. Nor did he have a need to get into his car and go search for Bev. “Strange, I should be feeling terrible but I don’t… maybe just a bit guilty.”

“Charles? Charles, do you know where your mother is? She isn’t home. Do not know where she went? Not there is she?”

“Gee, no Dad. We just got home this afternoon from the honeymoon. Had a great time in Alaska. Can’t wait to show you…the…pictures. Wait a minute! You sound strange. What happened? The trip tales can wait.”

Flustered, Fred asked, “How’s Sally?”

“OK, OK. Mom hasn’t taken off on you has she?

“What makes you ask that?”

“I’ve had feelings about Mom lately, Dad. She hasn’t been happy. Small things bothered her. Even at our wedding she was distant. We’ve all noticed it.”

“Charles, your mother has left me! She left a letter and has taken all of her things…even her garden tools.” Fred found himself crying in great convulsive gasps. “Son, call David please and would you all come over to the house? I…I need you both.” It was the first time in decades that Fred Fridley said he needed someone.

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All sat around the table with the fourth pot of too-strong coffee. Bev’s beautiful cookies and cakes had been shredded and strewn over the table by ten nervous hands. The house now had the feeling of death…the sort of death when the body is at the morgue and the family does not know what to say next and conversation descends to meaningless gestures and phrases. Fred’s sons would have stayed all night if he had wanted but they agreed to go home and leave him sort things out. They all had baskets of thinking to do.

“You sure you’ll be ok Dad?” David asked again. “We can stay the night if you want…Mom might come back in the morning. No, I guess you’re right. It all looks pretty grim. I don’t think she’s coming back Dad. She’s gone!” A large tear fell to the table and Fred quickly wiped it away, hoping no one had noticed. “I’m sorry Dad. I’m sorry for all of us.”

David’s wife, Penny, took him by the arm and kissed him on the cheek. “Try not to worry Fred. You’ve still got all of us. Things will work out…they always do.”

Fred smiled down on tiny Penny. She was so well-named and bright like one too. She was a great mate for David.

“Thanks kid,” he responded with a half-smile. He stooped down and kissed her on the forehead. “It has to, doesn’t it? I mean things have to work out.”

Sally lined up and kissed her father-in-law. She was crying too. The boys each hugged their father and then, like an automatic yard light switching off when there was no sound, they all left.

Fred was alone. For the first time in his adult life he could remember, he was alone…really alone. All he could hear was the automatic irrigation sprayer turning on in the garden and playing its swooshing decibels against the side of the house and then moving on. From somewhere Fred remembered, ‘The fog comes on little cat’s feet, looks silent, on haunches…looking over harbor and city…and then moves on.’