Life in a Suitcase

Life in a Suitcase

“You're here to help, you say?” Lefty Long grins his widest Texan smile at the disheveled traveler, Claire Calhoun. “Looks like you need a little help yourself, first.”

Claire's unruly curly hair falls in front of her face as she looks down at her rumpled traveling hoodie, black smudged tight faded jeans adorned with unraveling fashion rips spaced strategically down her shapely bike-toned legs and sensible running shoes. The unmistakable charred smell assaults her nostrils once again reminding her how much she craves a nice long shower. “A hot shower would do wonders for me right now, you're right. But if Uncle Simon is in the hospital I need to check in on him. I'm hoping I can stay with him until I can figure out what I am going to do with my life. If he has suffered a stroke maybe I can be his caretaker until he gets back on his feet. Bet there is an overwhelming amount of work to do on a burgeoning dude ranch or whatever he has been developing at the simple scruffy ranch I visited with my mom when I was a kid. Thanks for breakfast but I need to go see him.”

“I'm happy to chauffeur you around. He asked me to fetch you from the bus stop here. As his closest neighbor I've been helping him at his authentic Texan Hill Country experience vacation spot. It's no more than renting his rustic home out while he lives in a tiny house. The visitors can help him work the ranch if they want to.”

“Like riding horses and mucking out stalls?”

“True. Doesn't sound all that glamorous but city fools get a kick out of it if they know they can go back to their condos.”

“Well, I wish I had a condo to go back to. I lost everything I owned, which wasn't much, in those fires in La-La land. I came straight from escaping flames in the middle of the night. That's why I look and smell like a charred campfire someone tried to stomp out.”

“No kiddin'? I heard 'bout those infernos sweeping down out of the hills devouring whole neighborhoods of rich or house-less folks alike. Your house burned down?”

“A small apartment complex in Altadena, a hard working-class close-knit community as pretty as a picture now burnt to a crisp. All I could save is in that back-pack. And pretty little Patches here.”

“She is a pretty kitty. Very unique coloring with that straight line down the center of her nose. Yellow on one side, black on the other. Guess that's why you named her 'Patches'.”

“She earned the name at the shelter I rescued her from about a year and a half ago. Come on, Patch, time to get back into the carrier.”

“I'll get your pack.” As Lefty swung it up over his shoulder he noted it was much heavier than he expected. How had a petite thing like her been lugging it all the way from LA? Of course, if it held everything she had left in the world it's understandable she holds on to it tight. How could anyone pack up their whole life in one suitcase? Or in her case, a back-pack? He thought of his modest home and wondered what he would grab on the way out the door in the face of a raging conflagration. Poor kid. She's had a rough time.

“Please be careful with that. It has my laptop in it which is my connection to my only source of income.”

“Really? What do y'all do, if you don't mind me asking?”

“I proofread for a publishing company. I can do it from anywhere as long as I can plug in.”

“So you really are multi-talented. This way to my truck. It's a big step up. Want help with Patches' carrier and tote bag?”

“Thanks. Don't think I've ever been this close to a monster truck like this before. Guess what they say is true that everything is bigger in Texas.”

“Oh, this is nothing but a 1500. Wait 'til you try to drive Simon's F-350. Now that qualifies as a Texas King Ranch!”

“I'm gonna wish I had my mountain bike here. It was my only means of transportation other than buses. Had to leave it behind at the bus station out of the city.”

“It could've helped getting around on the ranch but getting from town to town would've been too far. You're 'bout to see exactly how big Texas can be. Here's the hospital. Let's go see how Simon is getting' along.”

~~~~~

“Hi, Uncle Simon. Remember me. Your sister's little girl.”

“Sure I do. But you were a scrawny kid back then. Now you're a beautiful young woman.”

“Sorry, about the way I look. Had to escape a very bad situation. Thanks for letting me come here. I had no place else to go. How are you feeling? If you're gonna need assistance while recovering I hope I can be helpful.”

“Well, I think you'll be just the angel I have been praying for.”

“What am I? I've offered to keep things running smoothly, ya stubborn ol' fella.” Lefty gently steered the rancher down the hallway as they paced slowly back and forth.

“You'll be useful, too, but harder to look at. She'll be like a breath of fresh air.”

“Ha, ha. Probably not until I get some of this soot washed off of me! What do the doctors say about your prognosis?”

“They'll keep their frog noses out of my business. I'm not done fer yet. A little weak right now but still the sharpest knife in the drawer. Watch me slice through all this stroke mumbo-jumbo they keep spewing and be home before they know I'm gone. Now with two helpers they can't put me away in an old folks parkin' garage. I'm glad you came, Claire Dear, but so sorry for your tragic circumstances.”

“I won't lie. It's been rough. I have what's left of my life in my back pack but I feel so blessed to reunite with you and so thrilled you survived this setback and will be okay again.”

Lefty interjected, “Tell ya what. How 'bout I take her home to my place and set up whatever the two of you will be needing and I'll move into your tiny place at your ranch so we can still rent out your main house to guests. All I'll have to do is pack my life in a suitcase.”