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THE MIDNIGHT SKULKER 15
San Diego, California
February 28, 1974
7:10 p.m. Pacific Standard Time
Coming into the bedroom, now lit by the exterior lights, both unable to hold back, their arms about each other, their lips tightly pressed upon each other’s…
“Marcie, I love you, and cannot wait until we’re here.”
“Me too, Mitchie, I love you, too! Oh, my, God, this is so beautiful! This is so much more than I ever dreamed.”
And then Marsha and Mitchell stepped outside…
“Oh, God!
…to a fairyland of tree wound lights, and spotlight lit trees and shrubbery… and the shimmering, translucent blue pool.
****
The white ’65 Cadillac Coupe Deville traveled West on U.S. 8, to north on U.S. 5 where it made a thirty minute detour looking for the Western Union office that Sophie thought she knew. Finding it, Sophie and Marsha remained in the car as Mitchell ran in and, as per Alice’s instructions, sent the telegram accepting the Limberger offer, then back to U.S. 5 to west on California 30 into the wealthy, beautiful seaside community of La Jolla where the Cadillac pulled to the curb before a quadruple glass windowed showroom with a large neon sign proclaiming: ‘La Jolla Mercedes Benz’.
“Okay,” taking her briefcase, this’ll probably take about fifteen minutes. So sit tight and, I’m pretty sure they will, but if the Sawyers want to, or have the time to meet you, I’ll come and get you.”
Coming from the backseat, “Come on.” Opening the front door, taking Marsha’s hand, “let’s take a walk.”
Though dark by this time, walking two blocks up the street and returning on the other side, stopping to look into some of the store front windows, “Wow,” Marsha said, “this is some Richie-bitchie, fancy place.”
Crossing the semi-busy street, looking at the ‘Mercedes Benz’ sign, “You know who I’ve been thinking of?”
Considering their dogs as members of the family, they were not referred to as ‘the dog’; or when referencing more than one, as ‘the dogs’, but rather as ‘the kid’ or ‘the kids’.
Looking at the ’Mercedes Benz’ sign.
“You know who I’ve been thinking of?”
“Yes,” Marsha said, “me, too…”
June, 1960
Peoria, Illinois
Having a new baby to care for—her weariness and irritability having returned—deciding running the stairs was exhausting, Marsha suggested looking for a one story house to rent.
Besides, having his new daughter sleep in the same room—though his son had slept in their room—by this time used to privacy of sorts, Mitchell found that he would rather share a bedroom with just his wife.
Willing to pay extra, within limits, with the Peoria Journal Star’s classified section in hand, on the very next Sunday, for $85 a month—$10 more than they were presently paying—Marsha and Mitchell Lipensky rented a “cute” three bedroom, one and a half bath, one story house situated on a long, narrow, corner lot.
**** Bong! Bong! Bong!
Sleeping in a corner of and, with the help of a folding gate, kept within the kitchen at night, better than an alarm clock…
Bong! Bong! Bong! Mercy’s tail striking the metal cabinet door making a hollow Bong! Bong! Bong!—that reverberated throughout the small house—signalling the fact that near three and a half year old Michael had awoken, had gone into the living room and turned the television on.
It also told Mitchell that he’d better get into the kitchen, if it wasn’t too late already—and it usually was—to get Mercy outside.
Looking in the living room, “Hi, Mikey,” Mitchell said sweetly as he headed to the kitchen.
Opening the gate, “Hi, Mercy,” he said in the exact same, sweet tone of voice. Then, “Down, Mercy!” he said in a tone not quite as sweetly as, stepping into the kitchen he found that, oh, yeah, it was too late… by a few times and, if for nothing more than to get the licking, jumping, bundle of early morning energy out of his hair while cleaning the pile’a’poop and the three—well, to be fair, because one and a half puddles’a’pee were on the newspaper that was spread near the back door—before cleaning the pile’a’poop and the one and a half puddles’a’pee off the linoleum covered floor, opening the screen door, Mitchell attached the six month old Dalmatian to the lead.
As there was no fence to separate this narrow, rectangular shaped lot and the side yard of the O’Connor’s, the neighbours’ to the rear, Mitchell clipped Mercy’s collar onto a lead that was attached to a pulley that ran along a seven foot high, fifteen foot long line that was fastened on one end by an eyebolt that was screwed into the wood frame of the back door and, running at a sharp angle, to the trunk of a tree on the other end.
****
Given two pure bred Dalmatian puppies from – Mitchell’s parents dog – Cricket’s litter of eleven shortly after moving into their new home as a gift from Walter and Myra for the birth of their granddaughter, keeping the female, Marsha and Mitchell were told to sell the other and keep whatever money the pup brought, which in itself was a nice gesture because the male sold after only two days for $125.00
However, having a child in his “terrible threes,” a newborn and two puppies to care for—even if for only two days while Mitchell was at work—was just a bit too much for Marsha and, what under other circumstances would have been considered a nice gesture, as most often happened between Marsha and her in-laws, this nice gesture soured rather quickly.
Though she did love animals and dogs in particular, because of the baby, at first Marsha hadn’t been too excited about having even one puppy… not too excited at all.
Besides, as she’d said on more than one occasion, “If your parents wanted to give us a gift of a puppy and money, if that’s what they wanted to do, then why didn’t they sell the other dog themselves and just give us the money?”
But—excluding Walter, because she didn’t think he was all that devious—Marsha really didn’t know if her mother-in-law did it the way she did it knowing it would cause a problem, or if Myra, or Myra and Walter together, did it stupidly, without thinking.
****
Nonetheless, Mercy was now one of and loved by all the family.
“Mercy?”
A combination of the dam and bitch: ‘Silver Cricket of Bell Coach’ and ‘Tioga Sports Car’. Hence: ‘Mercedes Benz, Silver Sports Car.’ But the name was a few letters too long for the A.K.C., so she became: ‘Mercedes Silver Sports Car’. Hence ‘Mercy’ for short.
San Diego, California
February 28, 1974
7:10 p.m. Pacific Standard Time
Coming from the showroom, “There you are!” Walking into the street to meet them, “Rodney and Sarah are waiting to meet you.
Though not all that unusual in San Diego, especially in the wealthy city of La Jolla, although — because they knew it was an exotic automobile — although they’d named a pet after one, neither Marsha or Mitchell had ever seen a Mercedes Benz automobile.
A few steps behind Sophie as they entered into the showroom, whispering over his shoulder, “Oh my, God, Marcy, these cars are beautiful!”
Reading a price tag as they walked by, “Mitchie,” Marsha whispered back, “they want twenty-seven thousand dollars for that car!”
Following Sophie through the spacious showroom into a hallway, into an office…
“Rodney, Sarah, meet Marsha and Mitchell Lipensky.”
On the tall side, about 6’2”, Rodney Sawyer had gray streaked dark brown hair, brown eyes and a ruddy complexion. Wearing sharply pressed blue slacks, a white cashmere sweater over a sport shirt, and shiny black loafers...
“Mitchell… Marsha,” shaking hands with one then the other, “Sophie’s told us about you and we’re so happy to meet you.”
At her husband’s side, about 5’7” Sarah Sawyer wore a woolen, knee-length skirt, a white silk blouse and black, moderately heeled shoes…
…Appearing to be in their early to mid-sixties, the Sawyers looked the picture of very well-heeled socialites, which in fact they were… and the reason they were so anxious to move from middle-middle-class Lake Murray to the palatial house they’d built on a high bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean.
Shaking hands with Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer, “Sophie’s told us about you, too, and likewise, we’re happy to meet you also.”
“Yes,” Marsha added, “and Mitchie and I sincerely want to thank you for allowing us to buy your beautiful home.”
Motioning for them to sit, “It’s our pleasure, honey.” Mrs. Sawyer said, “Rod and me, we’re so happy to know that people such as you will be raising a family in our home.”
Taking an immediate liking to the younger man’s appearance and mannerisms, thinking that, possibly, he might be willing to make the investment needed to transform Mitchell into a Mercedes Benz salesman, “What do you do, Mitchell?”
“As a matter of fact, Mr. Sawyer, I’m in an allied field.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I’ve purchased the rights to Southern California from a company called ‘Your Write Hand’,” Spelling: “ ‘W-R-I-T-E’. And we’re giving competition to whoever you use for your automotive, sales follow up system.”
“That’s interesting, Mitchell. Once you’re settled in, call for an appointment and we’ll discuss your services.”
©October 9, 2011 / Mark M. Lichterman
