Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Watermelon Paper

(This posting is by Kathleen Berquist)


Since I don't have a writing table, this short story is being written on a large old microbiology book. No, I did not wash my fingers before I started this nonfiction. OK, enough of this....Free Coffee.....Back when coffee was just coffee and it's price was about $1.00 a pound, one fall the price rose to about $5 a pound. Holy Cow! I was a new housewife and my husband and I did not drink coffee, we had never tried it. That sure makes the two of us sound sweet and innocent and we actually were. Oh, this is about coffee. Picture this, a gloomy, cool fall Sunday afternoon in Duluth. Two adults in the home and 2 children outside playing. It's quiet. All at once I hear a loud boney knock, knocking on the dried oak door. Who in the world could be so loud and persistent? I hurry to the door and open it. On the maroon painted large porch are two young men dressed like they just left a church service. The taller of the two has a shiny blue large can of coffee nestled in his left arm. Of course, my eyes stayed with the coffee can. If it had a blanket around it, it would have seemed like a tiny baby. Fair haired and blue eyed, he had something behind him.

The other man said, "If we can come in and show you how this Kirby vacuum cleaner works, you can have this can of coffee absolutely free." So I am thinking, what do I have to lose? My rug needs to be vacuumed and I could save the coffee. It would make a grand Christmas present. So I said, "Come on in".

We all walked through the large hallway, stepping over shoes and toys and end up in the diningroom. The three of us sit around the table and it all seems very serious. "Do you know anyone who has a Kirby?" Oh, yes, one of my friends did who was financially well off and who is the cleanest person I have ever met.

Ken, the tall guy, then asked me, "Is your husband home? If so, we want him to see this demonstration." I thought, fat chance of that. He was down in the crumbling bluestone basement, all dressed in leathers, with his Harley, his true love, which was apart in thousands of pieces on the basement floor.

"Please ask your husband to join us." So I did. Once down in the basement I told Bob that if he came upstairs and listened to these guys talk about a Kirby vacuum cleaner, we would get a huge can of coffee for free. To my absolute amazement, he came upstairs. So the four of us sat around the oak diningroom table like we were at a conference to decide something of the utmost importance. Kind of funny, don't you think?

Finally, the fairhaired guy puts on the tiniest tiny little vacuum bag, (I think it was made of canvas), onto the vacuum, that is so large and probably weighs 250 lbs. It gets pulled in and then turned on. I hate to say this but before the cleaner moves about 1/4 of the bag suddenly looks full. Blue eyes pushes the vacuum toward the couch and adds an attachment to the machine. The couch is an old scratching thing that I probably found by someones garbage one day, but we like it. Anyway it got cleaned. I am surprised anything was left of it when the guy was done. When he was doing it, it reminded me of when a tental assistant sucks the water out of your mouth, when the dentist is cleaning your teeth. You feel like your cheek is on the way down the drain. Anyway, back to the subject, was it coffee, or was it about a Kirby vacuum cleaner??

The vacuum was stopped, the guy took the bag off the vacuum and opened it. He could hardly get all the disgusting stuff out of the bag, and of course, it all expanded once it hit the air. I felt so dirty and sick inside; which is what I think was the purpose of the showing of how great this Kirby vacuum cleaner was.

All of us went back to our places at the conference table. "Mrs. Berquist, do you want this vacuum cleaner?" Without hesitation I said "YES". Bob, in his leathers still looks strong, he asks "How much is it?" Well, there are many ways we could work that out for you, so the guys talked about that for a long time. I just sat there feeling like I needed a bath, plus I wanted to start making dinner and I hadn't seen the kids for about three hours, it was almost dark. Finally one of the guys said to Robert, "She wants the Kirby, if you Love her you will buy it for her." Boy, did my ears perk up. Did he love me? I often wondered that. Finally after a long afternoon the vacuum cleaner was left at our house overnight. We were told that the price was $2500 that could be paid for a small amount at a time. Wow, what a grueling afternoon! The can of coffee was ours, now what!!!

Bob grabbed a beer, I made myself some tea and in about five minutes I came to my senses. The last thing I needed or wanted was a 250 lb, $2500 vacuum. Our old Chevy was worth about $200. So I told Bob I really didn't want that thing. I think he was relieved. So now what?. I said "why don't we get rid of our rug." So we called some friends and we told them our story. "Would you like our rug?" They said yes, but would we also like an old antiquish dresser they had?" We all thought that it was funny. Our friends came right over and we made the exchange. Now that our only rug was gone, the livingroom looked quite nice with it's shiny maple hardwood floor. Life was simpler again. Our family went to sleep peacefully that night.

Monday arrived. At about 11 am, the fairhaired young blue eyed man knocked once on the wooden screen door. He said, "Well are you going to buy the Kirby?"
I said, "No, we do not need it. We got rid of our only rug". He just gave me kind of sad look and asked to use my telephone. I heard him dial the number and he said, "They gave their rug away." He walked briskly through the house, back to the front door where the vacuum cleaner was waiting for him. He grabbed it by the neck and lugged it down the stairs, got into his car never to be seen by me again.

Almost 40 years later, I remember that incident like it was yesterday. I sure hope both those guys have easier jobs. Today I actually drove by a small Kirby vacuum cleaner shop on Duluth's west end. Oh, the memories. It's 2008 now, and coffee drinking is an art form, like dancing and painting, it takes on many forms.

My old Biology book is somehow different now, since I've written this story on its cover, I write with a hard hand. The watermelon colored paper has been interesting to write on but I think the story would have been better written on paper the color of turquoise! My pen name is the "Queen of Ireland"

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