Schifflebein's Folly

CHAPTER 9: CHARLEY

In the Schifflebein kitchen, Lloyd was putting together a picnic lunch and stuffing a cooler. On the kitchen table lay a towel, swim fins, an inner tube, another towel, a mask and snorkel, and another towel.

"Sunscreen," said Teapot. "Don't forget the sunscreen."

"Yes, mother," Lloyd said.

Rudy entered the kitchen and tossed another towel onto the table. "Do we have a speargun?" he asked, genuinely expecting an affirmative answer.

"We do not, and this is a non-violent expedition," said Lloyd mildly. "You will kindly confine yourself to activities guaranteed not to draw blood."

"Can Marshmallow go with us?" asked Rudy, referring to his timorous rabbit.

Lloyd chuckled. "Rudy, my man, I believe after the bathtub incident the other night it's a safe bet Marshmallow would not enjoy the beach."

Nguyen entered the room and, placing Rudy's hand atop her own, finger-spelled words into Rudy's palm.

"My sister doesn't want mustard on her sandwich," Rudy said.

Lloyd smiled at the duo, and he signed for Nguyen as he spoke: "The ones on top have mayo; the ones on the bottom have mustard. Okay?"

Nguyen signed as Rudy spoke, "That'll work."

The doorbell bonged, Rudy grabbed Nguyen's tiny arm, and together the children clattered from the room.

Lucy's voice wafted through the house, "Mrs. Jackson's here!"

Moments later, in Lloyd's driveway, all six Schifflebein children mingled with five Jackson children, stuffing beach paraphernalia into Remmy Jackson's monstrous and ancient station wagon.

Lloyd carried his picnic basket from the house and loaded it into the car beside his and Remmy's large ice chests.

He joined Remmy alongside the car just as she shut the door behind the last child to squeeze inside.

"Heckuva way to spend your day off, Remmy. The kids and I really appreciate it."

Remmy shrugged. "They good kids. My gang enjoys 'em. You get some rest while we gone today. Look like you need it."

"Can't," said Lloyd. "After all the delays, I've gotta work day and night if I'm gonna get this playground installed by August 15th."

"It's just a job, man. Ain't worth killin' y'self over."

"Say a prayer for me, Remmy. I'm still on probation as a parent. If I don't get this contract, I've got no business, no steady income. The State could take away my kids."

The desperation on his face touched Remmy's heart, and she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Schifflebein," she said, "anybody'd take dem kids outta dis house gotta be crazier than you are. It ain't gone happen. Now, take care of y'self while ya can. I just might leave all eleven of 'em on yo' doorstep on my way home tonight!"

Lloyd laughed. "Go ahead," he said. "I probably wouldn't even notice the difference."

Remmy smiled and waved as she moved into the driver's seat of the packed station wagon. A moment later the wagon departed, it seemed, with dozens of small arms waving goodbye from every window.

Lloyd waved, smiling, until they were out of sight. Then he turned back toward the house.

Scarcely an hour later, a delivery person in coveralls and baseball cap pushed a hand truck laden with cardboard boxes up to Lloyd's front door and knocked.