A FBOW excerpt in proper  sequence: "déjà vu"

 September 27, 1961

Des Plaines, Illinois 

Much as the expansion of the Village of Skokie had been in the early fifties, with Chicago’s ever moving migration to the north and west; about fifty nine miles northwest of downtown Chicago, in the early sixties Des Plaines, Hoffman Estates and Schaumburg became the fastest growing lower to medium priced suburban communities.

****

The 2,400 square foot, tri-level townhouse located at ‘9116 Balcony Place’ was the end unit giving the Lipensky family a 19x36 foot side yard that Mitchell with the help of his brother, Larry, would fence with five foot high chain link fencing within the first week of occupancy.

The far outside, southern facing units of this development faced Balcony Place.

The side yard of the far inside, northern facing unit, ‘9116’, was directly adjacent the communal driveway and assigned and guest parking area.

All the five unit structures in this large development were situated on three structures per pie shaped lot, giving the far outside, southern facing units larger front and side yards.

Each unit had a sliding patio door to the rear that faced a small concrete patio, sidewalk and the neighbouring patio.

Running the length of each building, sidewalks ran from Balcony Place to the south to the communal driveway/parking area to the north.

Stepping through the front door, to the left was a—special ordered—dark brown carpeted living room. To the right a formal, like carpeted dining room. Abutting the dining room was a 10x12 kitchen with built in—special ordered—white oven, range and dishwasher.

Continuing along the open sided—special ordered—linoleum covered hallway there were three steps going down to a 14x17 den and the rear patio door. To the left of the den was a utility room containing a forced air furnace and a fifty gallon—special ordered— gas water heater, along with more than enough room for a washer, dryer and small work area. To the left of the utility room was a half bath containing a toilet and sink.

Heading up the four carpeted steps from the main level of this tri-level vaulted ceiling home was a short hallway. To the far right of the hall was the master bedroom with a three quarter bathroom. To the left of the master bedroom was the second bedroom, and further down the hallway, across from the full bathroom, the third bedroom.

Appearing to be ‘considerably’ more expensive than the $19,999.00—plus extras—that 9116 Balcony Place cost, the new home of Marsha and Mitchell Lipensky was light, bright, airy and, once populated and ‘arranged’, in the opinion of anyone walking through the front door…

September 29, 1961

“Wow!”

Moving in on Friday the twenty-second, they asked everyone to stay away until they were completely situated and ‘arranged’.

Caring for Michael, Ellie and Mercy so their parents—considering Mercy as one of the ‘kids’— might have the weekend to unpack, put away and ‘arrange’

First driving to Chicago to pick up Rhea; in addition to Michael, Ellie

and Mercy, somehow also fitting Larry and Morton into the Buick...

As requested, Walter, Myra and entourage arrived at 11:30 a.m., in time for brunch and to see, for the first time, the new home of their children.

Even though the living room furniture was now the den furniture and the wall to wall carpeted living and dining rooms were absolutely empty…

Coming through the front door…

“Wow!”

Coming from Walter, who was well known to be very stingy with complements…

‘Wow’ was exactly what Marsha and Mitchell wanted to

hear.

Des Plaines, Illinois

October 24 through December 16, 1961

Who’s Training Who?

“Mercy, no!”

Within the first week of life at 9116 Balcony Place, renting a post hole digger, purchasing bags of concrete mix and 80 feet of five foot high chain link fencing, along with fence posts, top rails and all fixtures needed to install a 19x36 three sided fence along with a 4x6 pea gravelled dog pen that Mercy had been, and was still in the process of being taught…

“That’s where you poop!”

****

“Mercy, no!”

Attempting to get hold of the early morning bundle of unlimited energy, “Mercy, come here!”

But in a playful mood, bounding away…

“Mercy, come on, ‘stop’!”

Catching hold, forcibly walking her…

The side yard being slightly sloped and because the grass was still wet from the light snow of the night before, and because Mercy had deposited a fairly large pile’a poop…

“Mercy ‘no’!”

Twining his fingers about the chain around the now seventy pound dog’s neck, pulling her to the pile’a poop. Straddling the Dalmatian, forcing her head towards the pile’a poop, “Mercy, no!”

Because the ground was sloped and because the ground was wet, and because Mitchell’s fingers were entwined about the chain collar around the Dalmatian’s neck, and because the dog—being on a lower plane—rather than obediently allowing her muzzle to be forced towards the pile’a poop to...

“Mercy, no!”

...smell her poop and because she decided to back between Mitchell’s legs forcing his hands, entwined about the chain collar, to move backwards, between his legs…

“Uh- oh!”

Mitchell’s feet slipping from beneath…

“Uh- oh!” caused him to flip…

“Oh, shit!” landing face first...

Not feeling well due to this month’s menstrual cramps. Still in bed on this early Sunday morning.

“ ‘Oh, shit’!”

“Mitchell, what’s wrong?”

Hearing him start up the stairs muttering…

“Shit! Oh, shit!”

Sitting up on her elbows. Seeing her husband as he entered their bedroom heading— ‘very’ quickly to the bathroom, muttering…

“Shit!”

Thinking he’d split his head open and that brown stuff was brains that where oozing from his forehead.

Panicking, “My God, Mitchell! What happened?”

“Shit!”

Seeing it closer “Shit?” Smelling it now. “Shit?” Realising, thinking, that oozy stuff’s not his brains. “That’s shit, Mitchie?” Marsha said. “I thought it was your brains.”

“That’s me...” he said. “...ol’ shit for brains.”

Incredulously stated: “That’s Mercy’s shit!”

If laughter truly is the best medicine…

“Mitchell, why? “ Her pain diminished. “How in the hell did you get dog shit all over your…” laughing, hardly able to get the word out, “…head?”

Quickly stripping his clothes off and stepping into the shower. “Rotten dog rubbed ‘my’ nose in it!”

Hearing their mother’s laughter. Awakening, one walking and one toddling, Michael and Ellie crawled into bed with their mother.

“What’s so funny, Mommy?”

“Mercy rubbed your daddy’s nose in her poop.”

Five year old Michael and one and a half year old Ellie.

“Daddy smell ‘po-po!”

Thinking this to be hysterically funny, the two scooted into bed with their mother and…

Out of the shower. Drying himself, Mitchell joined his wife and children in a gale of laughter.

Catching her breath. “May as well get breakfast going… Mikey, what do you want for breakfast?”

“Pancakes!” Said the little boy.

“And sausage!” Called his father.

Out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped about his waist. Knowing it would take Marsha at least fifteen minutes until she was downstairs,.

“Tell you what...” Mitchell said, tickling both children amidst a gale of renewed laughter, “...what if I read you guys the funnies while mommy’s making breakfast.”

“Yeah, Daddy!”

“In funny voices, Daddy?”

“Sure, Mikey, just like I always do!” Lifting Ellie off the bed, patting her behind to get her moving, “Why don’t you guys scoot so mommy and I can get dressed.”

Chicago, Illinois

November 23,1961

Déjà vu…

Having a sense of déjà vu…

His body angled forward, walking into the freezing, howling wind of Michigan Avenue as clutching the lapels of his overcoat with one hand while hanging onto the heavy Transco Envelope sample case with the other.

This case, though, giving him the feel of an anchor holding him to earth rather than the art case he’d carried five years earlier giving him the feel of a wing that might cause him to become airborne.

Déjà vu…

Sensing he’s been here before. That he’s done this before.

The Territory:

Mitchell’s two by five block territory was bounded on the north by Randolph Street, the south by Jackson Boulevard, the west by State Street and the east by Michigan Avenue.

Means of transportation:

Each workday morning, Mitchell would leave his home in Des Plains — unusually no later than 6:45. Drive by the quickest route to the Howard Street elevated station on Chicago’s far north side. Park the Lark as close to the station as possible, then take the thirty minute el ride into the heart of Chicago’s Loop.

At 10:22 on 11/23…

With his overcoat collar pulled up and his blue, knit watch cap pulled low, Mitchell Lipensky waited for the stop light om the south-east corners of Randolph and State Streets to turn from red to green.

The lights changing, Mitchell began across the busy street.

At 10:24 on 11/23…

With her fur lined, leather coat collar pulled up and her fuzzy, pink knit cap pulled low, Elizabeth Hurzon waited for the stop light on the north-west corners of Randolph and State streets to turn from red to green.

The lights changing, Elizabeth began across the busy street.

On 11/23…

Neither saw the other.

****

“Hillhouse & Hodges, 690 S. Michigan” the 3x5 CIC (customer information card) read along with the name of the buyer and the date, types and cost of past purchases.

Surprisingly remembering the name: ‘Hillhouse & Hodges’, he thought, Hope she’s not there.

“Good morning.” Handing the receptionist his card, “I’m Mitch Lipensky from Transco Envelope and, if he’s available, I’d like to speak to Mister Maxfield, please.”

“I’ll check and see.”

Calling, then putting the phone down, “If you’ll have a seat, Mister Maxfield will see you shortly.”

“Thank you.” Turning away, then turning back, “Does Gina still work here?”

“ ‘Gina’…? No, I’ve been here for three years now and there’s no Gina here.”

Relieved. “Thank you.”

****

Bill Krupper’s territory — now divided into thirds... Had been canvassed and serviced by a top sales professional for the past thirty years and now, rather than constant ‘cold canvassing’, Mitchell’s days usually consisted of following up on territory calls received at Transco. Checking established customers for any immediate or near future needs and keeping a running inventory of stock already in the possession of a number of customers and reordering as the need arose.

And, of course, sending a seemingly never ending stream of queries to be sure the customers’ envelopes were sent and received on time.

Neighbours

Considering only the three neighbouring five unit structures with Marsha and Mitchell’s structure being the centre structure.

No need to worry about ‘Jesus loves me’ songs because, with the exception of Harry and Eileen Butz—yeah, ‘Harry Butz’—whose front door, divided by the sidewalk faced the Lipensky’s front door.

No need to worry about ‘Jesus loves me’ songs as the neighbours in all remaining four units were Jewish. Were much older and were never more than, ‘Hi, how are you’? or, ‘Nice day, isn’t it’? kinds of neighbours.

In the Lipensky’s structure, the unit directly adjacent the Lipensky’s was owned by Sam and Harriet Mayer who had a boy the age of Michael.

Next to the Mayer’s were Peter and Katie Kronsky, a friendly though childless couple.

Next to the Kronsky’s were Morris and Emma Krichevsky, a much older couple whom eventually became the adopted grand parents to many of the neighbouring children.

The owners of the last unit, depending on whether you lived to the north or south, were Paulette and Erwin Aaronson who had three children: Two boys and one girl.

At the northern end of the Lipensky structure, divided by the side walk— rear patio facing rear patio, were the Blenders who had delusions of grandeur and other than an obligatory, ‘Hi, how are you’? or ‘Nice day, isn’t it’, the Blender’s never had too much to say.

The southern most, far end unit was owned by the Gentleman’s, who had thirteen and fifteen year old, rather rowdy sons. They, too, much to the delight of the other neighbours—especially the Aaronson’s—stayed to themselves.

The two centre units were owned respectively by David and Jennifer Forman, and Ray and Martha Neumann, two young, good looking couples who had known each other before moving and had purposely purchased units next door to each other.

A fast friendship having been formed—Paulette Aaronson, Marsha Lipensky and Eileen Butz speculated that the Forman’s and Neumann’s were into wife swapping.

Or, as David and Lester were— In the opinions of Paulette, Marsha and Eileen, very good looking guys, more than likely, the ladies speculated, the two couples were into husband swapping.

In the three structures of fifteen, 2,200 and 2,400 square foot units— The only non Jewish family was Eileen and Harry Butz…

Eileen jokingly — or maybe not so jokingly complained that even after eight years of marriage it was still hard for her to sigh anything that needed a signature: ‘Mrs Harry Butz’.

Next FBOW excerpt in sequence: "Dirty Movies"