Saturday, March 14, 2008 (London)

6:30 a.m. The phone rings. I’m still asleep and half think I may be dreaming. The answer-phone picks up as Tom flashes into the living room without a stitch of clothing on. Whoa — good morning. It’s Claire. She says that Rick died only a few hours ago. He and Cherie were at home watching a movie together when it happened. Jesus. Everybody is now up, dealing with the hour and getting tea made.

I ask Mom where I might be able to go study later on. (?) Like that’s going to happen. Mom phones Claire, then Cherie. Listen intently through my first two cups of tea. Mom puts me on the phone for a minute so she can run to the bathroom. Cherie is extremely distraught and still in shock. When the police arrived they treated the apartment as a murder scene, and her as a suspect. “The world just keeps kicking you.” She’s worried that Rick died feeling like some kind of bookmark.

Fry up some rare Cumberland sausage for breakfast sandwiches. Stuart drops by with the cat. Tom shows him in and Mom attends to the business of the revolving loan that sees him through until the next check arrives Mom says they go through this little song and dance a couple of times every month.

Jim rings up (4:30 a.m. Illinois time), wanting to know what the hell has happened because of all the messages on his machine. He calls Cherie and we don’t hear back from him for the rest of the day.

Tom keeps inquiring if I’ve downloaded my photos — his way of asking to see the pictures and even try downloading his own from Paris. Show Mom how to use iPhoto. She loves it. Transfer photos of Ian’s belongings from Mom’s old PC. She tells me the story of what happened when he died, and how she learned so much about him at the funeral from all the “aging queens”. Mom and Tom look at their photos from Paris, creating a slideshow set to music (which they think is pretty cool).

Start to play Myst V: End of Ages with Mom. She’s having fun. Later on, Tom and I begin to dismantle Mom’s old laptop in search of the hard drive. Damn thing is buried. Mom says she’s sad to see it go after all these years. Her “moose”, too. (Mouse)

Mom and Tom pop out to do their Saturday errands and I head off for a run in Burgess Park. Beautiful day. Many scattered pick-up games of football (soccer) going on, mostly immigrants. These guys are having a lot of fun and I think of Kabi; I feel bad for not returning his call.

After returning, I stretch, shave, and wash up in Mom’s “shower”, which is more akin to a drip-irrigation system. Start a video chat with Yumi just before Mom and Tom return; they’re happy to see her again. Marie is busy preparing for her Baptism and Victor’s arrival. She also doesn’t want to see me leave HELP for NICE.

Mom dictates an email to Tony and has me send it off. She and Tom then have a lie-down for about an hour. I catch a few winks myself on the couch after starting to caption some of our trip photos on Flickr.

Clarie comes over with the last of her apple pie. It’s not at all uncomfortable to see her this time. We talk for a while in the living room. before Tom wakes up and stumbles out to make tea, followed shortly thereafter by Mom. Order a couple of pizzas from Pizza Hut. Mom gives the Claire the bag of dried Swedish Bitters. They’re both raving so much about them that I try a spoonful of the ready-made syrup; it really does have a turn-of-the-century taste to it.

I ask Claire if she’s been in touch with Jean. (We’d been talking about her the day before. Mom was telling me the story of what a lovely day she had when Jean came to visit, and the two of them took a day trip by boat down the Thames.) In trying to sort out who Jean now works for, Claire tells of asking Jean a long time ago about her employers before coming to work for Cherie. She was with Dean Martin for a year, but her favorite has always been Dudley Moore. We’re thinking she may have come with him from England to L.A. Tom launches into the chorus of an old song he did with Peter Cook, “Good-Byeeeeeeiiiiiii”. I’ve got it on YouTube less than a minute later. Mom is amazed at how fast I’ve been pulling up information on the Web (such as the answer to her wondering if the “@” sign did not appear on keyboards until the advent of email — which isn’t the case: it debuted on the 1902 Lambert typewriter).

Todd Skypes us and the kids are bouncing off the walls. Mom is really pleased with how well the video chatting is working out so far. Todd tells a story of when he and Kate were staying with Michael years ago when he still lived over on John Ruskin street. Todd had picked up a pair of knee-high Doc Martens at the market and was wearing them when he stepped out for a smoke on Michael’s balcony. When Michael asked why he was outside, Todd answered that he didn’t want to get smoke in the flat. Michael said he’d rather live with a smoke-filled room than have Todd on the balcony in those boots, looking like a male prostitute. Oh man, I’d never heard that before. We were all dying.

Claire phones her mom, apologizes repeatedly for not being able to come sooner. She pleads with Cherie to eat something and go spend some time with Rick’s cousins. Claire hands the phone over to Mom. Grandpa wasn’t very sympathetic when Cherie called to tell him the news. Claire, Tom, and I are quiet as Mom talks to her. I’m impressed with how compassionate yet composed and straight-up Mom is when speaking to Cherie. Claire seemed much more unsure of herself, as I know I did.

After the call Tom is upset with Mom for suggesting that Rich go Albuquerque to stay with Cherie until Claire arrives. He’d only have bigger troubles waiting for him later at home. Mom knows he’s right, didn’t know what she was thinking.

Claire then calls her dad, and the phone is passed to Mom and then to me. Rich says he feels bad about the long-overdue email he owes me about his old bike. Says he’s waiting until he can give a quality response. It’s loud wherever he is and I can’t really understand all that he’s saying. He mentions something about reading something on my website (?) — about the death of someone that prompted him to go out and buy some music. “Have you ever heard Serina?” I didn’t quite catch it. “Oh… man!” In any case, Rich seemed happy to say hi to me. I don’t know what I was worried about.

Claire’s pie tastes pretty good.

Walk her down to the bus, which I’d felt bad about not offering to do last time. I’d forgot about her mugging in N.Y. It was dark and wet outside and she was glad to have me do it. The bus whisked her away and that was that. Sorry, Claire, for all the weirdness before. I honestly don’t know what gets into me sometimes.

Still puzzled over Grandpa’s reaction. Cherie says it’s because he was half-asleep when she called. Mom, though, isn’t all that surprised. As Grandpa himself says, he doesn’t give a shit about other people’s problems these days because it’s all he can do to deal with Grandma. Mom says Jim is a more logical choice to go down and stay with Cherie, but he’s busy with work (and otherwise detached) so probably won’t do it. Mom and Claire both agree that Cherie is probably better off staying in New Mexico where there’s sun, though Mom is concerned because Cherie has never done well on her own. I can’t even imagine the hell she’s going through.

As I fall asleep I watch shadow rings playing on the ceiling overhead — a street lamp’s reflection off a puddle down below. Each ring expands outward from a single drop of rain until annihilated by adjacent rings formed fractions of a second later. It happens too quickly to notice, but the dance is beautiful.

What a day.