Famine

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

   Rene took Jonah to Goodloe House on 1800 Parrish Avenue.  Once a mansion, the two-story structure was of red brick with white columns that supported a covered porch on three sides.  It was just one of many large mansions situated on a bank that ran for over a mile east and west.  Many people believed it was once the bank of the Ohio River that had receded a mile or so to the north.  Below on the street below was a site long familiar to Jonah: Moreland Park where he played as a kid.

   The park still had at least one baseball diamond.  In his childhood his dad could still drive the family car into the entrance at the corner of Parrish and Moreland Avenues all the way up to the ball field.  For years cars had dug ruts where they had parked.  Jonah imagined he could still see traces of them where they parked over a hundred fifty years ago.  There still depressions in the grass here and there.

   But the corner of Hickman and Moreland now had no ball diamond.  Rather what looked like an old arcade for advanced electronic games.  It was in grave need of repair.  Perhaps there was no more money for such things.  He remembered going hungry and turning his lunch money into nickels and squandering them on pinball machines.  They were crude devices in his day.  Simple but fun.  He always seem to shake them too hard to keep that little steel ball in play.  But his obsession too often cost him so much that he had not enough money for a bag of potato chips.  Those were the days.

   Rene put her hand on his shoulder to bring him back to the present.  "Brings back memories, Jonah?"  He nodded.  "I used to play here too."

   A young girl in a silver, one-piece body suit met them at the door. From the way she behaved, it was obvious she had long been expecting them. Welcome to Goodloe House," she said with an smile that betrayed her inexperience.  "I have carefully prepared the twentieth-century quarters to reflect an apartment from the 1970's. You should find the accommodations so plaseing that you'll think you had never left your own time.  I am always available to assist your needs while you're here.  We want to assure the maximum comfort of our 'time travelers,' we like to call them at Goodloe House."

Jonah couldn't distingish her giggle from a shrill, it was so ear-piercing.  He just smiled and hoped he wouldn't see much of Jennifer.  He might wish he had just died over a hundred years ago.  This century sucked and sucked more, now that he had time to think about.  More and More, he wished he had gone on and died.  Jennifer's welcome was so absurd that he thought about it once again.  He turned his attention back to Rene, who must have known what he was thinking.  She had slipped Joah a smile once when Jennifer wasn't looking.

   After discussing the agenda for the next evening, Rene departed.  Jennifer then took Jonah's hand and led him down the hall to the second room on the right.  She stopped and stepped aside beaming and indicated for Jonah to enter.  She was unable to see Jonah's face, as he was almost unable to prevent himself from laughing in her face.  He then put on his best poker face and turned toward her.  He crossed his fingers behind his back and said in a tone that he didn't see how anyone but an anxious new employee would believe.  He said the facilities were awesome in their uniqueness.  That was the truest lie he could tell. After a few rouine questions about use of the facilities, a car the next day, and meal times, Jonah told Jennifer that he would be okay for a while.

   The room featured Queen Anne bedroom suit: canopied bed, chest of drawers, and dresser with mirror.  In another corner was a roll-top desk straight out of the erly 1900's. A crystal radio with head set stood on a small matching nightstand by the bed.  Jonah had know idea of what he was supposed to listen to.  He speculated that he could listen to the radio verson of Gun Smoke.A maroon beab-bag chair, a fake GE air conditioner in the window, and stainless-steel lamp with fiberglass ends, which lit up screamed that its interior decorator takl to the wrong historian.