Bow Life Goes On #14
San Diego, California
February 28, 1974
7:10 p.m. Pacific Standard Time
Standing just outside the double hung kitchen doors both husband and wife ‘marveled’ that in thirty days this would become their home...
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.”
Standing, arms about each other’s waist… Looking… Just looking...
“Oh, God!”
At the fairyland of tree wound lights, and spotlight-lit trees and shrubbery… And the shimmering, translucent blue pool.
****
The white ’65 Cadillac Coupe Deville traveled north-west on ‘U.S. 8’ to north on ‘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 long, one story white stucco building containing a quadruple glass windowed showroom with a large neon sign proclaiming: ‘La Jolla Mercedes Benz’.
“Okay...” taking her briefcase “...this’ll only take about fifteen minutes. So take a little walk or sit tight and I’m pretty sure they will, because they had insisted on meeting the buyers of their home and I’ll come and get you.”
Coming from the backseat. “Come on...” opening the front door and taking Marsha’s hand “...let’s take a walk.”
A lovely California evening, 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.”
Returning to the other side of the semi-busy street.
Looking through one of the huge windows at the showroom display of beautiful ‘Mercedes Benz’ automobiles.
“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 through the showroom window.
“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 eighty-five dollars a month—ten dollars more than they were presently paying at their ‘Wisconsin Villas’ two story townhouse —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 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 folding gate. “Hi, Mercy! 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 pup 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 eye bolt 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, Ellie. 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 which in 1960, Marsha and Mitchell thought was a pretty good price.
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! 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 — all though 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—even though seen through the other side of the window—“Oh my, God, Marcy, these cars are ‘beautiful!’”
Slowing to read a price tag as they walked by. “Mitchie,...” Marsha whispered back. “...they want twenty-seven ‘thousand’ dollars for that car!”
Sighing because he knew he would never own one, following Sophie through the spacious showroom into a hallway — noting two dozen or so framed and signed photographs of famous Hollywood stars that were displayed on both walls —into a brightly lit, richly appointed office.
“Rodney, Sarah…” Sophie making introductions “...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 happy to meet you.”
At her husband’s side, about 5’7” Sarah Sawyer wore a peach colored woolen, knee-length skirt, a white silk blouse and black, moderately heeled shoes…
Mitchell’s first impression of Sarah Sawyer was: Wow! She had to be absolutely beautiful when she was younger.
…Appearing to be in their early to mid-sixties, the Sawyers looked the picture of very well-heeled socialites,… Which in fact they were owning the only Mercedes Benz dealership between San Diego county and the City of Los Angeles — which was the reason they wanted to move from ‘middle-middle-class’ Lake Murray to the palatial house they’d purchased 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 see 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.”
Marsha’s heart beating a bit faster realizing that they will, in fact, be raising their family in their ‘new home’.
Taking an immediate liking to the younger man’s appearance and mannerisms and seeing— at least in Rodney Sawyer’s eyes seeing something special about Mitchell Lipensky and thinking that ‘possibly’, if he gets to know more about him he might be willing to make the rather expensive investment needed to transform Mitchell into a knowledgeable Mercedes Benz salesman.
“What do you do, Mitchell?”
“As a matter of fact, Mr. Sawyer, I’m in an allied field.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“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…” I hope, Mitchell thought “… to whomever you use for your automotive, sales follow up system.”
“That’s interesting, Mitchell.” Glancing at his wife, who imperceptibly nodded her head.
“Once you’re settled in, call for an appointment and we’ll discuss your services.”
A light tapping on the office door, and an extremely good looking man about Mitchell’s age entered the office…
“ ‘Will’ meet Marsha and Mitchell; they're the couple purchasing our old house.”
Coming forward, William Sawyer shook Mitchell’s hand.
“That’s a ‘great’ place.” Looking from Mitchell to Marsha. “Me and my brother were raised there, you know and you’ll really enjoy living there.”
“How’d you find high school there?”
“ ‘La Mesa’s’ great and…” rolling his eyes “...the girls!”
“I’m sure…” Mitchell said “...Mickie will love it then.”
“Dad…” turning to his father “...Mister Fonda’s here.”
Thank you, Will… “Tell Henry I’ll be with him in a minute, and in the meantime why don’t you show him the new sedan that came in last week.”
“ Okay, dad, will do.”
Nodding towards Marsha and Mitchell. “Nice meeting you and good luck in your new home.”
“Thank’s…” Mitchell said “...nice meeting you too.”
“Before we go, Mrs Sawyer?”
“ ‘Sarah’, please.”
“ ‘Sarah’, thank you… I’ll have no problem with the vegetable garden in that area alongside the house. I’ve had vegetable gardens before and am aware of the dry climate here and will water mote often, but the dwarf fruit trees and other tropical stuff there, I have ‘no’ idea what to do.”
“Tell you what, dear. I’ll mimeograph instructions and Sophie will leave them at the house for you.”
“That’ll be great, thank you!”
“Sophie...” Mister Sawyer said, motioning for her to come forward “...you wanted Sarah and me to sign some papers.”
****
Far beyond mere excitement...Knowing that — if all goes well on their end; and why wouldn’t it? In thirty days Marsha and Mitchell would be handed the keys to ‘their new home’.
All three now on the spacious ‘bench’ seat of Sophie’s ‘1965
Cadillac Coupe Deville’ — Sophie driving with Marsha in the middle.
“Knew there'd be no problem with them signing. So, how’d you like the Sawyers?”
“They seem like really nice people.”
“Yeah…” Marsha said “...and their son, ‘wow’!”
“ ‘Willie’? Yeah! I’ve known him since he was kid and could never figure who he resembled more, Rod or Sarah.”
“That was ‘Henry Fonda’ that was waiting for Mister Sawyer?”
“Yes…” glancing past Marsha “… there’s lots of famous Hollywood type people buying ‘Mercedes’ now-a-days.”
All quiet for a few seconds.
“So,…” Sophie asked “...you kids ready for dinner?”
“Yeah…” Marsha said “...I’m starving.”
“Know what I’m thinking?”
“No…” Marsha asked “...what ‘are you thinking’?”
“I’m thinking that if ‘Write Hand’ doesn’t go as we expect, maybe I’ll talk to Mister Sawyer about becoming a Mercedes salesman.”
“That takes ‘lots’ of training…” Sophie said “...most of it done in Germany.”
“Besides…” Marsha asked “...what do you know about cars anyway?”
“Well…” he said “...I do know how to change a tire, after all.”
“And turn the ignition on.” Marsha added.
The Cadillac taking the ‘U.S. 8 South’ on-ramp heading to the City of San Diego and ‘Fisherman’s Grotto’.
“Let’s eat!”
Next BOW Life Goes On #15
