Eventually both Marilyn and I were healthy, and it was my turn to visit her. I let Marilyn give me directions to her house (which were wrong, in any case; like I said, she can’t find her way out of a paper bag) but I already knew perfectly well how to get there. Friday afternoon I packed my trusty B4 and tossed it into the Galaxie, and headed out for a road trip.
It wasn’t really all that ridiculously far. I ran down 787 to 90, and then over to the Thruway. From there you go straight west to Exit 31, which dumps you off in North Utica. Cross over the river into Utica and get on 5S going west, and stay on it after it turns into 69. The Lefleurs had a farm about halfway between Utica and the Oriskany battlefield, but they didn’t run a farm. Instead they had about fifty acres that they used to run Lefleur Homes, a mobile home dealership.
It took me about two hours to get there, since the speed limit was now at 55. I pulled into the parking lot about four or so. I parked next to the Lefleur’s farmhouse and out in front of the double-wide trailer they used for an office, and got out and stretched. It really felt like going back in time! I had spent gargantuan amounts of time here professionally before. I swore to myself that would not be repeated!
I was standing there a few feet from my car, just looking around and taking it all in, when suddenly I hear, “Carling! Carling!” I looked around and smiled to see a little brunette whirlwind come running across the parking lot. Marilyn was dressed in jeans and a tee shirt and sneakers and was calling my name as she ran towards me. I grinned and she didn’t even slow down, she just jumped into my arms and wrapped herself around me. “I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you!” she said repeatedly, in between kissing me.
I just laughed. It was a good thing I was in shape and working out, because Marilyn was completely off the ground, her arms wrapped around my neck and her legs up around my waist. My hands were under her butt and holding her up as I kissed her back. “I guess you did miss me!” I told her.
“I did, I did, I did!” Marilyn replied, kissing me even more.
I started slowly walking towards the house, still carrying her. “You know, this isn’t the easiest way to carry a person.”
“If you loved me, you’d carry me!”
I snorted at that. “If that’s the case, we’re making a small adjustment!” I moved to drop her and Marilyn squealed and lowered her feet to the ground. I simply bent forward and grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up and over my shoulder like a sack of cement.
Marilyn squawked! “Put me down!”
“Hey, I love you, so I have to carry you.” I gave her a loud smack on the bottom and continued towards the house, with her squirming and fighting me all the way to the door. I looked the house over as I approached. Marilyn’s mother was watching us through the kitchen window, and one of her brothers was looking at us through the glass in the door.
“Put me down!” she demanded. I simply shifted her around a touch, freed up a hand, and opened the door to the house. Her brother laughed and scampered away, and I carried Marilyn inside. I dumped her unceremoniously inside the door.
I leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. “That will teach you to challenge me on something.”
“Very funny!”
Her little brother came romping up, and I recognized him as Michael, who must have been about five or six at the time. He held his hands up to me and said, “Pick me up.” Marilyn looked quite amused at this, so I picked him up. I lifted him up to eye level, and then higher, over my head.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Put me down!” I put him down, and he repeated, “Pick me up!” I picked him back up.
“He’s your problem now,” commented his sister. Marilyn left me in the living room with her brother and went off to the kitchen.
“Put me down!” “Pick me up!” “Put me down!” Michael was having a grand old time, with me using him as a set of free weights.
After a few more lifts, I flipped him upside down and carried him into the kitchen, holding him up by his feet. “Look what I caught! I think he’s kind of small. Should I throw him back?” I held him out towards his mother.
“Put me down! Put me down!”
“I don’t want him!” she said, snorting and smiling.
I turned towards Marilyn. “Here, you take one leg and let’s make a wish!”
Marilyn laughed and grabbed one of Michael’s legs, as he kept yelling for me to let him go. Eventually the noise level got too loud and Mrs. Lefleur told us to put him down. I slowly dropped him to the floor, and let him loose. Michael scampered away, but only after asking me to pick him up again. Mrs. Lefleur shooed him out of the kitchen, and then turned to face us.
“Mom, I’d like you to meet Carl Buckman.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lefleur.” I held my hand out and she gave it a solid shake.
Harriet Lefleur did everything solidly, because she was a very solid woman. A large woman. A hefty woman. She was also a short woman. Marilyn was only 5’4" tall, but she was at least an inch taller than her mother. Harriet wasn’t quite as wide as she was tall, but seemed to be approaching that size. She was a good person, and a nice person, but a very unattractive person. When I first met her, I thought it was because the stress of having ten kids had taken a toll on her body, but then I saw the wedding pictures, back when she was nineteen. That was when I realized she hadn’t just been hit by the ugly stick, somebody had smacked her with the entire damned tree! She was from some tiny village north of Plattsburgh up by the Canadian border, and all I could think of her husband, also from the same small village, was that there must have been some mighty slim pickings on the frontier!
It was then that Big Bob Lefleur came in, through a side door to the kitchen. Big Bob’s nickname was tongue in cheek and given to him by his kids, like calling a bald guy ‘Curley’ or a tall guy ‘Shorty’. Big Bob was anything but big. He was only about 5’9", maybe, and slim. He was one of the most incredibly depressing people ever put on the planet, with a perpetual hangdog look, permanently slumped shoulders, and an ever present sense of foreboding. We used to say that when things were bad, he would be worried they would stay bad, and when things were good, he would be worried they were about to go bad. He would ultimately be diagnosed both as depressed and bipolar, a hell of a combination.
On the other hand, Big Bob really got his nickname because he thought big thoughts! He was an absolute dynamo in his business. He came up with a dozen ideas a day; eleven would be totally off the wall and useless, but the twelfth? That twelfth idea might actually make you some money!
He was an incredibly complex guy. He had grown up much like my father, in a Depression era farmhouse without electricity or water, but unlike my Dad, had dropped out of school at 16 to get a job. He had never graduated high school, but still managed to build the largest trailer dealership in New York. Harriet wasn’t much different, but she had at least gotten through high school. They married when they were 19, and started having kids at 20, and never stopped. They were also the purest form of white trash I had ever seen! Christmas lights were kept up all year long. Have you ever wondered who buys those singing fish on plaques you see on late night television commercials? They didn’t buy just one! They bought them for family and friends! Forget about going to Vegas or Europe or Florida for a vacation — send them to Dollywood!