at the Lavery's (life gives you lemons pt 3)

Having walked the length of an unlit corridor they come to a staircase. At the bottom a cement floor landing with a drain at its center is illuminated by an uncovered bulb dangling from the cealing. Without missing a beat Sylvia knocks on the thick wooden door. A grated peep hole opens almost immediately.
“What?” A set of eyes demanded.

Sylvia immediately recognizes the voice, and the eyes. “Is that you Patrick? I’m here to see the family.”

They are greeted by a slender man with dark hair that is greased and parted down the middle. He is wearing clothes that are a size too big and he smells like aftershave and whiskey sweat. Extending his arms to her he exclaims, “Sylv! Haven’t seen you in ages it seems!”

Slapping his arm in jest, “Ah, Patrick, you would if you went to Church more often!”
Then winking.
“How long you been working the trap? Thought you was on tending bar last time I was here.”

With a guilty sigh, “I was Sylv, I was! But Joe though it would be best I let folks in instead. Said it saved money on booze as I took two shots for every one I served.”

Sylvia laughing, remembering that Patrick had always been a heavy drinker, then adds, “Where are the rest of the lads, Pat?”

“In the lounge”

Puffing her shoulders and raising her chin and nose to the cealing she mocks in a high pitched tone,“The lounge, eh?”


“Guess it’s been longer than either of us would like to admit, Sylv. Joe and Dan added a lounge on to the place”
Pointing to Anne, “Since so many ladies like her began coming in they thought they ought to have a proper place for ‘em to drink and socialize. ‘Sept I think it was Dan’s way of corralling all the good looking girls for himself, you know Dan Lavery and his ladies!”
As Pat laughs at his own joke, Sylvia suddenly becomes aware of the fact that Anne is growing increasingly uncomfortable. “Well, I suppose we had better say hello then.”

“Joseph ought to be in the lounge making folks laugh like he does, you know Joe. As for Daniel, he should have been here an hour ago. He was supposed to relieve Lyle in the ally way.”

“Well that explains things then. When we came in it seemed Lyle was in one of his moods again. Seemed like he could use a break to collect himself, Pat.”

“Aww Christ…sorry Sylv. You ladies come with me. We’ll find Joe, I know he’d like to see you gals and get this situation with Lyle sorted out.”

when life gives you apples pt 2

The said meeting was held at the Lavery’s Tavern, which was really an underground Speakeasy where folks gathered to drink.
The small room, no more than 10X20 square feet, had been built in the downstairs corner portion of the Lavery’s Moving company warehouse. Formerly used for storage, and equipment, the working portion of the business was upstairs and had full street access. But downstairs was where all the action was.

Anne had never been to a Speakeasy before; she had had no need, as she was not a drinker.
She followed Sylvia down the main street towards the Lavery’s as they had before, on their trip to Whidbey only this time, instead of entering the building through the main entrance they stopped short of the building and ducked into the ally way which was dark save for a low burning glow from a lamp which hung just above an iron door on the side of the building of the moving company. Beside the door was a tall brutish look man who wore a gray wool coat and hungrily sucked on a lit cigarette, which hung from the side of his mouth. Inhaling and exhaling without bothering to remove it, he kept his hands in his pockets where they were warm.
Sylvia and Anne headed towards the door where the man was waiting.
Removing his right hand from his pocket he clumsily pinched the butt end of the smoke from his mouth revealing what seemed to be a semi permanent jaundice colored indentation on the right side of his lips where his cigarette had been sitting.

“What can I do for you this evening?” He asked using a tone far more high pitched and polite than expected. The closer Anne looked at him the more childlike he seemed in both mind and body.
“We’ve come to see the family.” Sylvia answered.
Upon hearing her voice his eyes lit up with friendly recognition. As he leaped towards her his demeanor change immediately from a thuggish doorman to that of an oversized puppy and he exclaimed, “Sylv! Why Sylvia Breslyn, it is you!”
His excitement revealed him altogether. He was a child in a man’s body.

Hugging him back,” Yes Lyle, it is. Old Sylvia’s come to tear the place apart.”

Taking in what Sylvia had said for a moment it becomes evident that he doesn’t understand sarcasm. Staring at the brick wall of the ally way, he places one hand on his hip and runs the other through his hair as though he has missed something.
Finally, “You’re not really going to tear the place apart are ya Sylv?”

Realizing that she has upset him she reassures him,“Oh Lyle, No! You know I was kidding!”

Clumsily laughing at himself. “Lyle! No Sylv, I knew you was kidding! I know you wouldn’t tear the place up! You’re funny Sylv! You’re funny!”
He begins rocking back and forth as he laughs and it becomes clear that he seems to have become agitated.

She pulls two cigarettes from her purse and lights them both. Handing one to Lyle to replace the one that has expired over the duration of their exchange.
“Oh Lyle I know I am. I am a funny lady. I was glad to see it was you when we turned the corner, you keep the place safe, I always feel safe knowing your protecting the family.”

"Yeah, I protect the family..."
He takes a few deep inhales to calm himself and sure enough the agitation subsides and the stoic thug demeanor returns as he reaches his arm forward to open the door for the two women.

“Thank you Lyle. Your always such a gentleman.”

As they walk into the building the door closes behind them and Sylvia turns to Anne, “That was Dan and Joe’s cousin Lyle Lavery.”

Anne, wanting to know more, “He doesn’t seem like the kind of man who is...” looking for the right word, “…suited to guard the door of a place like this.”

“Oh he’s suited alright! He once beat a man as near to death as a man could be beat. Did ya see those thick hands? Oh! Just stay on his good side, Anne. ”

“What did he beat the guy for?”

“Lord knows! I hear it was neither a trifling nor a grave matter but all the same to Lyle, once he started on the guy it took five grown men to pull him off.”

“I can’t see why they have him guarding the door.”

“I suppose because it’s something he can do to make an honest living. A place where his size and nature are properly placed.”

“An honest living! You call guarding the door of a speak easy and breaking peoples legs honest?”

Sylvia stops walking and looks at Anne squarely. “Yes, Miss! Down here we do call that honest. Giving a man something to tend to, something to protect and a family to be a part of is the right thing to do. Just because you don’t see that it meets to your standard doesn’t necessarily mean that it is somehow lacking.”

Ready to defend her stance, “Sylvia I didn’t say…”

Not letting her finish, “I know you didn’t say it, Anne…but I also know what you implied and as your friend I am compelled to remind you of where you are.”
Placing her hand on Anne shoulder and speaking kindly, “ I trust you know well enough -to put your ‘do right’ rhetoric away for a spell, and enjoy yourself…for your own sake?"

When life gives you lemmons pt 1

At his stand Tom made half-hearted offers to passerby’s at five cents an apple. But he knew it didn’t matter if he stood on his head and juggled the fruits, no one was going to buy them.
He shook his head. He had had known all along.
Had it been a month before, he could have sold all 20 crates of apples and made enough money to make it through the winter single handed.

With fall harvest in full swing everyone in Seattle wanted a fair chance to make a few extra dollars and they all lined the streets to sell apples hoping for the same good fortune as Anne, Sylvia and the children. With so many unemployed the supply for “charity apples” far out weighed the demand and the city was left reminded of the fundamental cruelties of capitalism.

By the end of the day, they pooled their money together and had only $ 2.85 between the seven stands. Just shy of selling one of the 20 crates they had, they had barely sold enough to give them reason to go at it the following day.

Earnest as Anne was and as desperate as Sylvia fought being perceived, it was no use…their apples simply did not sell.
Though the girls dressed in their finest dresses their luck was the same as Toms.

Ever hopeful, Sylvia announced “we’ll just have at it again tomorrow and the day after if we have to!”

Tom moaned, “At this rate, we’d be lucky to sell them before they rot!”

In that moment it occurred to Sylvia that they only had a small window of time to sell the apples before they went bad. The thought had never crossed her mind that the apples would not sell... or rot.

Anne shot Sylvia a glance and immediately after the young ones were put to bed they convened for a “plan B” meeting.

Apple stands

After what seemed like some well deserved respite out on Whidbey Island, Anne and Sylvia returned to the daily rigorous task to make ends meet back in Seattle.
They returned to the city with a sense of renewal and hope. Having been given 25 crates of Apples from Michael and Christina, they immediately set to the task of organizing a plan for their operation. They had mapped out their positions and borrowed the Lavery pick-up truck for the day to drop off the crates for sale.
The lawn was covered in crates filled generously to overflowing. The young ones quietly pillaged the freshly delivered plunder and gorged themselves on reds, greens and yellows until their jaws ached from chewing the crisp fruit.

The older children like Tom, Maggie and Mary were given the responsibility of having their own stands. Mary and Maggie made the signs and Tom saw to it that the crates were reinforced and sturdy.

There were mixed emotions regarding the plan. Tom was the least enthusiastic and being the eldest his negative sentiments were quickly adopted by some of the younger ones.
Surprisingly Maggie was the most excited to sell the apples. She put on her best dress, polished her shoes and spent the morning repeatedly pinch blushing cheeks and looking in the mirror.
Tom told her she was a fool to put on her best clothes for the endeavor. He insisted that she would be better to dress like a “down and outer” so as to make folks feel bad for her.
To which Maggie replied, “To hell with that, Tom!”
Earning herself a slap on the hand from her mother who frowned upon the children cursing. Maggie continued primping herself in anticipation of the afternoon.

Sylvia knew that it wasn’t the apple selling that Maggie was excited about but rather the fact that she would be a block from the High school. Knowing her daughter, Maggie was more excited about the idea of being seen, even if it she was selling apples.

Mary on the contrary, was terrified. She was seldom apart from Maggie; she had a quiet nature and hated being in front of people. Sitting by the front door a top her crates of apples She had dressed herself in enough layers to feel safe and hidden. She was ready to go long before Maggie, wearing a ‘Let’s get this over with’ look on her face.

Anne took Sara and Molly While Sylvia took Michael and Gabriel. The idea was that the younger ones would have stands near by his or her adult and stay in eye shot for safety. It was better for children to appear to be alone Sylvia had said to Anne. Though she hated to admit it, Anne agreed. People were more sympathetic to the young ones, and Sylvia was going to see to it that her little ones pulled at the heartstrings of the workingman so as to bring in a pretty penny for those free Apples.

So off they went, that motley crew of young ones. Dressed like vagabonds and royalty depending on his or her view of the business venture.
Tom led the way, Windy skipping just behind him annoyingly at his heels. Mary to her doom, Maggie to her glory and the three innocents following like a hopeful parade.