Adorned with Yellow

Ned was close to Granddad, but now his grandfather is gone--or is he really?

            Ned’s life had faltered from the loss of his beloved Granddad, dead now, gone two weeks. To him, Granddad’s presence remained, along with the many cherished spontaneous remarks that directed Ned in many ways, so he sought a diversion to ease his grief�"lawn mowing seemed a reassuring numbing enough chore. He ran his fingers through his receding sandy-brown hair, hooked his finger in his coffee cup and stepped out into the sunlit yard. He hesitated, looked around and sipped his coffee while drinking in the warm sun.

            Ned pulled open the garage door and when he spied the void next to his Accord, his coffee cup slipped from his already unsteady fingers. Ceramic shards and warm, tan coffee splattered across the cool concrete floor. He instantly comprehended and it compounding his grief�"someone had stolen his mower. Another shock immediately shook his emotions�"he moved around the car to the far corner of the garage. He was relieved to see Granddad’s few, meager belongings remained, still untouched by Ned and whoever had made off with his mower.

            Ned’s thoughts whirled as he searched for tracks in the garage, driveway and lawn, but of no avail. Considering his course of action, he surveyed the growing profusion of blossoming dandelions in the lawn. Ned had often thought a few yellow dandelions adorned the green grass the same way the yellow adorned the green on his missing John Deere lawn mower, but now the dandelions only conjured thoughts of Granddad and his secretly concocted dandelion wine.

            The house door clicked open and slid shut with a snap. After a few seconds, “Hey Dad, look at me!” Ned’s daughter Sadie danced by, holding a fuzzy, gone-to-seed dandelion above her head, while letting the ghostly white seeds swirl and float in her wake. Realization struck Ned; dandelions go to seed within twenty-four hours, and he envisioned an unmanageable yard of white caps and a storm of seed fluff afloat in the slightest breeze. Ned knew Granddad never approve of his few yard-borne dandelions, though had never scolded.

            Ned remembered playing in Granddad’s own immaculate yard and forever the proper Scot, Granddad treasured his neat lawn, garden, and yard. Known as environmental aficionados, Scots fervently embraced natural America, and dandelions had no place in Granddad’s park-like yard, so he had to pluck thousands of them from neighbors’ yards to concoct his dandelion wine. Ned felt the subsequent generation had thinned the true Scot out of him, underscored by his toleration of dandelions.  

            Ned meant to ease his hollowness by mowing, but with the mower gone, he slumped and worried over his impending work-related career day speech at the high school. This dredged up rough school days and the trying time after following some of Granddad’s advice. In school, Ned’s plump profile and overbite earned him the name chucky beaver, and then the guise was accentuated with a crew cut during the big-hair eighties. Months of metal orthodontic braces fixed his teeth but the tinsel in his teeth intensified the taunts. Bolstered by Granddad’s quick but ill-advised words Ned boldly retorted to a taunt in blind confidence that rewarded him a fist in the mouth that scarred him twice-fold. Ned always loved Granddad, but it took a long time to recover from the incident. Days of Granddad’s bolstering and wisdom now gone forever except in recollection, Ned rubbed his upper lip and concentrated on his stolen mower.

            Unquestionably, a victim in a series of burglaries, Ned had thought the Chief of Police and his deputy were taking the minor crimes too seriously when they issued all points’ bulletins and included meticulous descriptions of the stolen items�"until now. Ned understood why his Deere became the latest victim; better cared for than the car, the mower received a weekly wash, wax, and an Armor-All spritz on the custom high-back seat and turf tires. He imagined a muscled-up burglar trying to pawn off his Deere and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Ned desperately needed Granddad and some ancestral Scot courage.  

            From a great aunt’s family genealogy, Ned recalled parts of the family lineage from a Northern Pictish tribe, a clan called Donnachaidh, to Malcom who infamously killed Macbeth. Ned especially remembered one Scot legend from the many bloody struggles against the English. Out in the open and during a snowstorm, the battle-weary Scots bedded down and the young royal son, his first time in battle, pulled up a rock to lay his head to sleep. In disgust, the father kicked the rock out from under the son’s head, exclaiming in so many words, what�"now my soft son requires a pillow in the field of battle? Ned, self-decidedly soft, needed to draw on some of the remaining thin, warrior blood that flowed in his veins. What would Malcom or Granddad suggest? Backing his Accord out with a brave heart and crunch of ceramic shards, he told Sadie he was going on an errand.

            Ned slowly drove to city hall, scanning every open garage and peering into backyards. Granddad lay in rest in a cemetery near city hall, and for courage, Ned turned in to visit the grave. A smattering of yellow dandelion blossoms adorned the cemetery lawns except encircling Granddad’s grave. Ned pondered the bare, drinking straw-like stems; the blossoms all plucked off, lay piled on the slowly settling soil on the grave. After a few moments, Ned returned to his car and evoked Granddad’s visage. A tuft of dandelion fuzz drifted in the car window.

             Granddad turned to Ned and said, “I won’t steer you wrong this time Ned; remember what I taught you when I fixed your toy John Deere? You always find the things you search for in the last place you look.”

            Ned parked in front of the police station door, hopped out and strode inside. Sally Strum filled the position of dispatcher/receptionist/secretary and fulfilled the middle position with glee.

            “Good morning sir, are you filing a noise complaint?” Sally asked and slid a form toward Ned.

            “No�"Sally, you remember me from high school? Ned.”  He slid the form back.  “I’m here to inquire about the robberies.”

            “Oh right. Ned,” her voice, eyes, and demeanor dropped. “The investigation is on-going.”

            “That doesn’t tell me anything. Listen, I had my lawn mower stolen and I want to report it.”

            “Okey-doke,” she said, reached under the counter, rustled some papers and came up with a thick form. She picked up the complaint form and replaced it with the crime reporting form.

            “Ah, what happened to simple triplicate forms? This looks like twenty copies.”

            Sally ruffled the corner of the form. “Look, it is in triplicate, there are eight pages of information required.” She turned up the last page and gestured across it to exemplify and emphasize, “and you can provide a very thorough and complete description on the back.”

            Ned turned away when reflected sunlight glinted in the window. Granddad flagged his attention. “Remember the important stuff.”

            Turning back to Sally, Ned said, “I don’t have that kind of time; I have dandelions going to seed.”

            “Oh my, that certainly is serious,” She smirked but quickly sobered. “You shouldn’t take crime investigation into your own hands; fill out the form and let the Chief and Deputy do their jobs.”

            Ned ignored the form and sucked in his bulging waistline. A Scot linage indeed, he thought, I need to do better all-around here. “Now listen,” he looked Sally in the eyes and leaned into the counter. Sunlight flashed on the wall and Ned noticed Granddad pointing at a town map perforated with multi-colored pushpins hanging on the wall. 

            “Say Sally,” Ned stood tall and pointed. “What’s the map there?”

            “The pins indicate incidents by type and date.”

            “Is there a way to get a copy of that?”  Ned smiled nicely and pulled back his sweatshirt sleeves.

            Sally smiled back. “I can’t give it to you because it is O-P-U-O.”

            “Huh?”      

            “Official Police Use Only�"but,” She drew out.

            “But what?”

            “Read today’s newspaper.” She set the newspaper on the counter, unfolded it and paged through three pages. “Ah, here it is, continued from page one�"the map.” Sally spun the paper around for Ned. “A Journal reporter hand-scribed the plots when the Chief refused to release the information.”

            Ned picked up the paper. “Great. Ah, mind if I?”  He said folding and holding up the paper.

            “Sure, I’m done with it anyway,” she said with a wrist flip. Ned was halfway to the door, newspaper in hand when Sally waved the complaint form. “Ned, your form!”  

            He waved the newspaper adding, “thanks” with the swishing of the closing door. Sitting in his parked car, Ned tore the map from the newspaper and studied it. The map included complaints, domestic incidents, and indicated by Xs�"burglaries. The Xs were scattered all through the residential neighborhoods and Ned sat contemplating; he looked for clusters, but the town was so small, the burglar must have considered this and skipped around. He finally sighed and looking out the windshield he said, “think Ned think.”

            A loud car roared by as Granddad reminded Ned of wisdom he had provided when Ned turned sixteen and had just gotten his license. “If you’re going to be a hell raiser, don’t do it around home for more than the two obvious reasons.”  

             Indeed, Ned thought as he slid his finger across the map. He noticed the Xs thinned out near Skyline Drive. Ned left city hall, but slowly cruised Skyline Drive and side streets a couple times without seeing any obvious leads.

            Ned slowed for a dog trotting across the road. “Think about it Ned,” said Granddad glowing. “Coincidences just don’t occur; look closely, work hard, and with a wee bit of luck divine your providence.” Ned pulled over and parked along the curb to look at the map again when a paper sign on the street pole ruffled. He had seen the signs around but had not taken the time to read them. Some investigator, he thought as he read, “lawnmowers sold and repaired,” with an address given and a name: Jim Sharkey. Ned’s stomach somersaulted�"school taunts and fists whirled again. 

            Ned stopped at the street address. Gripping the steering wheel, sweat formed on his rapidly receding hairline. Ned had driven by the address earlier and had seen the garage that had a crooked door with a narrow gap below. Looking closer now, he saw several sets of lawn mower wheels inside.

            Children played in the house’s front yard. Granddad looked steadily at Ned as he always had since Ned was a child, “Face your fears head-on, it is never as bad as letting fears build.” 

            Ned breathed in deep and said, “Now or never.” Pulling into the driveway, the two children gawked and ran into the house. As Ned closed the car door, a dog barked and a woman looked out the screen door; he braced himself as seconds later Jim stepped out. Ned thought Jim did not look so big and tough any more.

            “Jim,” Ned said setting his teeth.

            “Well, hello Ned. It’s been a long time.” The last words sunk to the ground and crumpled at their feet. Jim slowly offered his hand. 

            Ned hastily wiped his palm on his pant leg and shook Jim’s hand. Ned felt Jim’s index finger oddly wouldn’t grip his hand. Ned looked down and embarrassed, quickly looked up to see Jim’s eyes meeting his.

            “Yeah, would you look at that,” Jim said. “A careless mistake.”

            “Hmmm, Ah, I heard you were doing great as a machinist,” Ned said toeing a piece of gravel.

            “Up to last year; I lost my job.” Jim said looking down at the unbending finger.

            Ned took in Jim’s finger, greasy fingernails, and the embossed scar of orthodontic braces across his knuckle.

            “I got sloppy. Almost tore the finger off trying to beat shop quotas,” Jim said. “Insurance put the finger back on, but it sure doesn’t work so well anymore, so I basically paid for working too hard with my job.” Jim repeatedly squeezed thin air, but the finger didn’t move. 

            Not knowing what to say, Ned nodded slowly.

            “So Ned, what brings you down here?” 

            “Ah, I was actually�"looking for my lawn mower. He toed the gravel. A piece bonuced: tap�"tap�"tipity�"tap. “It was,” Ned backed half a step and swallowed, “stolen.”

            Jim cleared his throat and with three good fingers rubbed his bristly chin.

            “Heard about the break-ins around. Cops stopped by here too.” Ned averted his eyes toward the garage. “Here, look at my work,” Jim said. He walked to the garage and pulled the bent door open. Five riding lawnmowers, one a John Deere, sat inside. Ned held his breath and released it when he saw the John Deere wasn’t his. Several other mowers sat around the garage in various states of repair. 

            Jim looked away with downcast eyes. “You thought I was stealing those things?”

            “Uh�"yes�"I jumped to conclusions,” Ned said sinking his hands into his pockets.

            Jim’s eyes suddenly appeared old. “Ned, I ain’t got much, but I wouldn’t steal from an old friend.”

            Ned jerked his head up and said, “I�"I’m sorry.” 

            “It’s okay. Things aren’t that great around here,” Jim motioned. “Workman’s comp ran out, so all I got is fixing these things, but it keeps food on the table.” An awkward silence deafened them as they cast long, dark shadows on the oily mower parts. Ned felt empty, wanting to go home.

            “It’s been nice to see you, Jim,” Ned said and gave a quick, awkward handshake backing away. “Hope things work out for you.”

            “Sure thing. You know, I see lots of people with mowers,” Jim gestured at the garage, “So if I get word on yours�"what was it?”

            “A John Deere with high-back seat and Dunlop turf tires.”

            “Nice. Got it. I’ll keep an eye out�"oh Ned,” Jim clasped his three-fingered fist in the palm of his other hand. 

            Ned swallowed hard.

            “I’m sorry for�"for a whole lot of things.” Jim said.

            “Me too, see you.” Ned backed two steps and turned to his car, the gravel crunching exceedingly loud.

            Ned slowly drove away and Jim stood motionless, holding a wave.  Ned took a deep breath, glanced at the map but drove straight home. Ned sat in the stillness of the half-empty garage, eyeing Granddad’s things piled in the corner. He saw Sadie approach in the rearview mirror, and Ned got out.

            “Hi Dad, what ya doing? Mom cleaned the floor and thought you could use a cup of coffee.” He took the coffee with a steady finger.

            “Thanks Sadie, I need it,” he said and hugged her close to his hip.

            “So where’d you go?”

            “I was out looking for our lawn mower.” Ned held the cup up at the void.

            “Mom figured that after seeing the mess and you leaving so early,” Sadie said. “Mom said to tell you it is around back. The neighbor used it yesterday and didn’t put it away.”

            Ned smiled down weakly, ran a hand over Sadie’s hair, and let her go. Ned took in the dandelion adorned lawn and thought of Granddad and tough Scots warriors giving glorious battle speeches. “Thanks Granddad,” he said to the dandelion fluff riding on the light breeze.  

            Ned stood in the driveway, sipped coffee a few minutes and waited for Granddad’s reply or maybe just a wee bit of wisdom, but it never came. He sighed, flipped out the cool remains of his coffee onto the lawn and decided he would sort Granddad’s boxes. An expired dandelion lay on one of the boxes and pulling the flap open, he saw a worn, crinkled piece of paper. Ned picked it up and carefully unfolded it. Reading it, Ned realized lawn mowing and speeches could wait, for it was time to make stout dandelion wine.     

Reviews

[wondering]

Good story, relateable, we all remember advice from elders. wanted to get to the end, even a good lesson. so I liked it