Easy Peasy with the Cardinals

Mae never mowed the lawn before. In her lifetime, mowing was a male’s job: her father’s, brother’s, husband’s, uh, ex-husband. Surely, it couldn’t be that hard. She had watched enough men in her life to know how to get started. Pump the little button thingy a few times, squeeze the handle, pull the cord really hard in one quick motion, and then rev down the shift thing.

Geared with long pants, hard toe shoes and eye goggles, she pushed the button to raise the garage door and wheel the mower onto the driveway. While unscrewing, checking and re-screwing the cap on the full tank, she felt eyes on her and looked up. It was the neighbor across the street, leaning on his rake watching her. He waved when she spotted him so she waved back lightly, praying he didn’t come over. The last thing she wanted was another man telling her what or how to do something. Quickly, she turned from him, found the pumpy thing and gave it five good pushes with her thumb. Standing, she pulled the handle tight, and reached down for the cord.

The cord was tight and stopped short. “Please do not come over,” she willed the neighbor.

“Pull Harder!” she heard her husband scowl in her head. “Put some ASS into it!”

Between her husband’s voice, and her neighbor’s stares, her adrenaline kicked in, and taking a deep breath to calm her shaking nerves, she reached down for the cord again.

First, a short, slow pull to the tight part. She forgot this step the first time. Then, in full, frustration energy, as if releasing decades of anger, she yanked with all her might. The cord practically pulled itself, as if it was easy all along. Adjusting the rev thing, she looked over at her neighbor, trying not to smile. He rested his rake under his arm and gave a quiet applause. Of course, she didn’t need his applause, but she liked it just the same.

But still, that didn’t mean she wanted him to come over, so she quickly turned the mover and headed to the part of the lawn closest to the house and farthest from him—and the rest of the world.

Singing to herself, as she always did (part of her charm that her husband once loved until one day it became her most annoying feature), the task began to take on a meditative feel.

“Row row row, my lawn gently as I stroll, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, new life is about to unfold.”

At the end of the first row, she made a three point turn to go back, and pushed along the other way. It reminded her of shaving her legs. Up one row and then another, humming along with the simple task. Mae liked simple tasks. Add a candle and some music, and life can be exciting in the ordinary. She thought it ironic that the men in her life saw chores as burdens, where as they were always coveted activities for her.

Her husband’s (ex-husband’s) desired activities were getting out there and trying the latest restaurants, or movies or concerts. Getting together with people, particularly with group sports. The softball league, the volleyball and the bowling. The Sunday paper was regularly scoured for listings and reviews that he read aloud to her over their coffee.

Being an only child, from a quiet neighborhood, Mae reveled in his energy when they met freshman year. She received more of a cultured education from him, than she did from all her Liberal Arts classes. And the history! History was her worst subject in school and he was a History major. He made all that had once was boring to her, ever so fascinating. Mae finally, learning history, made Mae’s parents so happy, which further solidified their couple hood.

Mae reached the end of the third row and realized she had stopped singing and was deep in thought. Looking up at the azure sky, with faint puffy clouds, she said, “I was so in love with you then.”

Resuming with the fourth row, she hummed her row, row, row your lawn song faintly, while reviewing in her mind the turning point in her marriage. At what exact point did the sweet turn to bitter?

“Wait!” she said to herself and stopped short, accidentally letting go of the handle and all went quiet. The neighbor was gone, thank god. Yes, God, whoever she had been thanking a lot lately for giving her the strength to get to where she is today, so why, is she rumbling in the mud pile in her brain that she supposedly already cleared out?

“You’re doing it again,” she heard her therapist say. “You’re letting him live rent free in your head. Kick him out!”

“Phew!” she breathed out and pulled the cord again, Easy peasy this time.

Easy peasy, is what she has dreamed of for so long.

Feeling renewed, she moved forward, and made another song and tune.

“Mae mowing the lawn in May,” she began. “Mae’s first month in her new house is May, Mae was born in May, Mae’s first name is Mae, Mae’s divorce is final in May. And it’s beautiful spring Saturday. Perhaps it should be named SaturMae!”

By the time she finished, she felt exhilarated. All her life, her role was in the kitchen, cooking, while the males were out mowing. How she dreamed of being a boy. She hated cooking then, and she still hated it now. At last, she, as Queen of her domain, may enjoy a gourmet bowl of oatmeal and blueberries at any time she desired—and do the outside work too! She could have her cake and eat it too! That was one her husband’s lines in their arguments: “Mae, you always want to have your cake and eat it too. Well, you can’t!”

“I can!” she rebutted, kicking him out, again. Her therapist told her he would keep coming back in her head for awhile, but soon, he would fade. Not soon enough, she mumbled as she headed in to the kitchen.

She poured a glass of iced tea that she made with (real tea and no sugar and not a mix) with just lemon and ice. Her grocery bill went way down, now that she no longer needed to go down the center aisles for ready-made sauces and mixes.

Back outside, she sat on the front stoop with her tea and the seed catalogues she just pulled out of the mailbox. Just as she was looking up to try and figure out which way was north, she heard the Saab before it pulled up in along the curb. That familiar crank noise his brake makes every time he parked, was the cherry on the top of all that was irritating about him. The heavy door slammed as it always did with a metal clank sound before the slam. “Here comes another Saab story,” she said into her ice tea glass.

“Did you mow the lawn yourself?” he asked while approaching up the path without asking if she minded.

“Idiot,” she mumbled to herself. She didn’t name him Idiot, her son did, when he was little and couldn’t say Elliot, so he’d say Eddiot. They laughed about it once together and then decided it was no longer funny. Well, he decided. She still called him Idiot to herself and to her friends.

“Yes, I mowed the lawn myself. What are you doing here?”

“I have a tax paper you need to sign.”

“You should call before you come over, Elliot. You can’t just pop over here whenever you like.”

“Harsh,” he said, shaking his head at her as if she were a bad little girl once again. He unfolded the paper he had in his hand and gave it to her along with the pen from his breast pocket. Balancing her mail and drink, she reached for it. While she looked it over, he looked around.

“You’re going to have to get a weed wacker for along the curb,” he said. Still looking at the paper, she she shook her head and laughed. He can’t help himself. Once a teacher, always a teacher. “I will, Mr. Elliot,” she said mockingly, as she leaned on her knee to sigh.

“Ha, ha,” he said, taking the paper back and putting it with the pen back into his breast pocket. “Have you heard from Dean?” he asked of their son who just left for his first year of college. It was the last time the three of them spent the day as a family. Mae had sat in the back seat, letting Dean take the brunt of Elliot’s continual History conversations and what he teaches his students. Mae continued to love history since they met and had even taken on a love of historical fiction. But the more she learned, the less she liked talking with with Elliot about it because their relationship started as him as the wise, charming, knowable one, and she the receiver of his fine lectures. As she became more and more educated, he could never transition into the possibility that she could be his equal in the discussion of history. Maybe that is the crux of what went wrong. He liked it better when she was less smart. How else could he be number one in the family? “He had always been the smartest in his class,” his mother had often reminded everyone.

Dean didn’t mind his dad. Of course he didn’t. Dean was allowed to challenge Elliot because he was learning. When Mae challenged him, she was being difficult and should just listen! Dean loved his dad, as he should and of course loved Mae too. He wanted no part of being in the middle of their arguments. He gladly took the front seat.

“Actually,” Mae answered. “He called me last night..”

“He called you? I wonder why he didn’t call me.”

“Maybe he hates you,” Mae said teasingly. Then, “He’ll probably call you next time. He can’t be expected to call both of us all the time.”

“You wouldn’t say that if it was me he called. What did he say?”

“He said orientation was going well and he likes his roommate Josh. Josh is pre-med.”

“Pre-med and an art history major sharing a room. That should be interesting.”

“Yeah, he says, so far, so good. They both have equally busy schedules but get along when they’re both in the room. They’re both serious about their studies.”

“Well, that’s good,” Elliot said. He paused, then asked, “So how’s it going over here? Keeping up with a house on your own can be tough.”

“The biggest obstacle is gone,” she said to herself, looking right at him. “I’m managing fine,” she said out loud.

“Well, okay,” he said. “I guess I’ll be going.” He walked reluctantly to his car as if he had something else to say. Before he opened the car door, he looked at her one more time. “Okay, bye,” he said again.

She lightly waved, with a fake smile, thinking, “Go already!” As he made a u-turn and began heading down the road, she opened a packet of free wildflower seeds that came with the catalogue and scattered seeds along the path he just walked, sending his negative energy away like fairy dust. Then she headed back to bring everything inside.

At the kitchen table by the window that looked into the yard and wetlands beyond, she filled out the seed order forms while continuing to sip her tea and eat her oatmeal and blueberries. It was very peaceful. Suddenly, loud peeping outside the window broke the silence. There, right in front of her in the tall bush, was a cardinal’s nest, with babies and the mother feeding them!

Mae felt such excitement! It was as if the birds were welcoming her to her new life, reminding her that life didn’t have to be such a struggle all the time. At first, when she moved in by herself, she was afraid she’d be lonely, worried that she’d never find true love. But the cardinals did a funny thing to her insides. They told her she was not alone and empty spaces were openings for new things to come.