39) Goodbye Stranger

Seven months and nine days.

Seven months.

Nine days.

You had guessed it would take you a mere two weeks…. Just fourteen days… to remove the few sections of moldy drywall, replace them, mud, sand and then apply a fresh coat of paint to the basement.

You were on day 221…

Two hundred twenty one days in and you were just getting to the paint part, never mind all the work you’d still have to do after you painted.

You were off by two hundred and seven days. More if you wanted to count until you were 100% finished.

You were ok with admitting that project estimation time was not your strong suit.

“I’m going to vacuum the walls before we paint.”

“Ok… I mean I did wipe everything down yesterday,” you said to David… you were so eager to start.

“Right but there’s still a lot of dust… we got this far, why make it look like crap now?”

When he put it that way, you were fine with him vacuuming the walls. While he vacuumed you dragged the 8’ ladder to the small south facing section of the basement’s western wall. What a long way you had come. Obviously the church had come a long way… but you had as well. Prior to this move you had never stepped on a ladder over six feet, you rarely if ever climbed to the third rung… and here you were now, excited to scamper up to the top, your head nearly bumping the 12’ ceilings to apply the new paint over the stark white walls.

You had become a lot more comfortable with heights… not comfortable enough to climb up onto the roof and almost plummet to your death comfortable, but just enough to start rolling the very tops of the walls… and that was quite a ways if you thought about it, which you definitely had.

In 221 days you had all taken on bees, bats, and squirrels, felled 11 trees, cleared a decade’s worth of yard overgrowth, excavated a foundation, waterproofed a foundation, cleaned, unpacked (not everything yet), moved furniture, fixed roof leaks, built a dry river bed, demoed eight tons of rot and decay from the basement, installed a commercial dehumidification system, a massive hot water heater, a dishwasher, a stove, a washer and dryer, repaired gutters, replaced windows, began a half bathroom buildout, put in new joists and repaired rotted flooring, poured 24 bags of leveler, prepped a 2,000 square foot area for paint, replaced some defunct plumbing and fixtures, and repaired and refinished a 130 year old hardwood floor… just to name a few…

Not too shabby.

Especially considering: this was actually your first rodeo.

“We have to marry the paint.”

“I’m not a priest…”

You rolled your eyes…

David laughed and began opening and pouring each of the five single gallons of paint into the large five gallon pail. When he was done he used his hammer drill and a massive attachment that resembled a Kitchen Aid mixer paddle to blend everything together. You loved to watch the paint mix in a swirl of clockwise color.

When he was done he poured the paint into a rolling tray, you wiped the edge of the big pail with an old rag and brought the paint tray and your roller to the ladder already set up in front of the little wall you planned on starting.

“So what’s the plan?” David wanted to know, as he poured himself a tray of paint.

“I’ll start here, (you pointed to the wall in front of you), you start on the other side… and we’ll meet in the middle. If you want to cut in by the ceiling and I’ll get the floor… we can do that?”

“Sounds good..”

You easily carried the roller and the paint tray up to the top of the ladder then dipped the roller into the narrow reserve of dark charcoal brown “Clove” paint before rolling it across the textured tray. This was it. Two hundred and twenty one days in the making.

The moment was in your opinion deserving of pyrotechnics, a blaring horn, a marching band, an MC, a DJ, fireworks, balloons, and some confetti for good measure. You envisioned yourself giving a big speech to a smiling reporter who would ask you, “Now that you’ve just about finished the basement… what are you going to do next?”

Before you could say something about “I’m going to Iceland (you weren’t that much of a Disney person)”, one of the guys from the local home improvement store would run up to you and dump a massive cooler of Gatorade (you didn’t even mind that it wasn’t seltzer water) over your head catching you completely by surprise… the crowd would cheer and the reporter would look at you soaked in neon blue liquid then back to the camera, “Guess we weren’t expecting that one… What a day! What a celebration… Now back to you Susan!” Just as you were hoisted up into the air by the crowd that surged around you…

Back at the station Susan would turn to her co-anchor… “Boy that’s quite the celebration, don’t you think Jake?” And Jake would take the blank stack of index cards in front of him, more for show than anything else and rap them on top of the table… “It sure is Susan… (he’d turn to look at her before continuing) who doesn’t love a feel good story!? Can you believe it? They bought that place without knowing what they were getting into… what a journey… can you even believe that basement before? Wow! (And then he’d turn back to the camera to address everyone watching at home… ) Folks that’s all for tonight but we’ll see you back here bright and early for your morning commute. Have a great night New York!”

Unfortunately though in reality all that was available was David’s bluetooth battery powered Milwaukee radio.

“What do you feel like listening to?” David asked interrupting your imaginary celebration.

“Oh I don’t care…” except that you decided that you did in fact care… You weren’t going to have your marching band, pyrotechnics, DJ, reporter, Gatorade, or even confetti… but the music you did have was going to matter. It had to.

And what could possibly fit this moment?

What could sum up everything that you had done, everything that you had been through to bring you to this moment… ?

What could memorialize this final break from the last remaining tethers of a conventional life you never wanted?

What could convey the joyous sentiment of moving on and finding existential and joyous fulfillment in this moment? This major accomplishment?

This was roller to paint and paint to wall but it was so much more than that… this was a culmination of the life you had worked so hard to create, the life that you had to tear apart to build back together exactly as you wanted… this was a celebration of freedom… of individualism.

*************************************************

Your mind wandered back to twenty years ago… you and David had just started dating a few months prior and spring was finally in the air. Always the adventurer David had invited you to go for a hike out to the waterfall that was nearly hidden off of Interstate 91 North. It was the one that you could only see in the dead of winter, if you knew where to look for it, when the foliage was all gone. It was the waterfall that you always wanted to stop on the highway to see in person. You had driven by it countless times as a child in the backseat on your way up to your Nana and Grandpa’s house, and then as a young adult heading to a friend’s. Your parents wouldn’t stop. You knew that. As a young adult you had never stopped either… the hidden waterfall was just a blip on the way to something else… but on that day with David… that hidden wonder was the destination.

You vividly remembered being in his car, a little black sporty Honda, tinted windows and low to the ground, it cruised along the interstate… grey trees just beginning to sprout tiny buds of green zipped by you in a blur of branches and trunks. David pulled a thick brown blunt out fron behind his ear. He reached overhead to open the moonroof, a roar of wind filled the small cabin before he lit the blunt and passed it to you… You took a long drag of the sour earthy smoke filling your lungs deeply with something that felt less like a vice and more like a promise of good things to come.

“What do you want to listen to?” David yelled over the deafening wind.

“I don’t care… surprise me…”

David pulled a CD from the visor over his head, as he expertly took the blunt in the other while using his knees to keep the little car steady in the lane before turning the stereo up…

A melody that you had never heard before soon filled the car accompanying the tendrils of smoke where it all passed through your body in a convergence of joyous elation. There was nostalgia, a keyboard, something that felt old and new and it pulsed through the stereo and into your very being. It was goodbye but not in a sad way… it was the goodbye one might have for their former life when a new adventure presented itself… mixed with the promise of independence… You didn’t realize it back then but you understood it now… this was the soundtrack of leaving behind the familiar path in search of a break from the norm. This was the anthem for adventurers… this was the hallelujah for the wanderers and the seekers.

It was early morning yesterday…

I was up before the dawn…

And I really have enjoyed my stay…

But I must be moving on.

Like a king without a castle…

Like a queen without a throne…

I'm an early morning lover

And I must be moving on

Now I believe in what you say

Is the undisputed truth…

But I have to have things my own way

To keep me in my youth…

Like a ship without an anchor

Like a slave without a chain

Just the thought of those sweet ladies

Sends a shiver through my veins…

And I will go on shining

Shining like brand new

I'll never look behind me

My troubles will be few…

*The little car traveled north, the music blared, the wind roared in from the sunroof, the blunt was passed back and forth, thick clouds of smoke filled your innards and the car before being pulled outside… and taking along with it… every care in your world…*

Goodbye stranger it's been nice

Hope you find your paradise…

Tried to see your point of view

Hope your dreams will all come true…

Goodbye Mary, goodbye Jane…

Will we ever meet again?

Feel no sorrow, feel no shame…

Come tomorrow, feel no pain…

…Now some they do and some they don't

And some you just can't tell…

And some they will and some they won't

With some it's just as well…

You can laugh at my behaviour

And that'll never bother me

Say the devil is my saviour

But I don't pay no heed…

And I will go on shining

Shining like brand new…

I'll never look behind me

My troubles will be few…

That grey spring afternoon you and David pulled off the highway and left his little car just off the shoulder. You climbed up a steep hill and through some trees, the only sounds were those of the falls and the whoosh of cars that flew by on the interstate. You never even questioned if you were supposed to be there, pulled off the highway… up in the woods, staring at the hidden waterfall you had always wanted to explore. You were both in your own little world.

David had pulled out another blunt and was just about to light it before you were both jolted from your solitude… “HEY… What are you two doing down there?” It was a state trooper and David tossed the blunt out of sight just off the path before the trooper could see that David had anything in his hand…

“I just wanted to see the waterfall… I’ve always wanted to see it,” you said walking back towards the highway and the visually annoyed trooper.

Later you and David had gone back, after promising the state trooper that you’d leave, and found the blunt before traipsing back down the thickly treed ridge and to the little car waiting on the side of the highway.

“That was a close one!” You had both laughed in the sporty sedan as David pulled onto the shoulder then stepped on the gas when the lane was clear, a cloud of the season’s road salt exploded in your wake….

********************************************************

“Vaness? Music?” David said from his workbench where the little red radio sat.

You were back in the basement now…

“Actually I know what I want to hear… can you put on Supertramp? Goodbye Stranger…?”

“I haven’t heard that one in a while…” David said, as he clicked away at his phone to bring up the song which quickly came up and onto the small Milwaukee radio.

“Can you turn it up?” You asked as you dipped your roller into the paint… you took a deep breath, relishing the moment before bringing the roller to the very top of the wall from the eight foot ladder as you surveyed your accomplishment from your fiberglass perch. The basement was close to done… this was more than a renovation… this was a proclamation… this was the start of something monumental… A fork in the road… up here you straddled both the before AND the after…

There was no marching band… there was no DJ… there was no reporter… there was no Gatorade… there were no pyrotechnics… and there was no confetti… there was just the steady and methodical rolling of Sherwin William’s Clove SW 9605 paint over someone else’s story…

This was now your path. This was now your tale… and for the first time in a long time, you felt like the author… not just a character in someone else’s plot.

And I will go on shining

Shining like brand new

I'll never look behind me

My troubles will be few…

With paint to wall:

Goodbye stranger….

There was no going back.

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Working on the walls… David was on the far side just out of view…