Penniless Souls

Chapter 1

Chapter 1When they married in Hawaii, so many years ago, John Murray had vowed to love, honor and cherish her forever. Through sickness, health and all the other stuff that came and went in their lives, he had managed fairly well. At this moment however, he didn't know what to say. After all, people lost their jobs everyday, but somehow, he never thought it would happen to him.

She sat there like a queen from an illustrated book on ancient civilizations. Her auburn hair, now a natural looking shade of red, made her look younger than her years. Sparkling eyes, the color of fresh Key limes, focused beyond the curtains. Her underlying mood, made his heart twist into a massive knot. Normally, she had a friendly, expressive face, but now it looked frozen and the warmth in her cheeks appeared drained and pale. Worry made him wonder what she was thinking. It looked like she focused on the drought, outside in the yard. Maybe, he had hoped, she stared at the sprinklers. The local California water company had told him to adjust his timer. His ears tried to listen for the spray hitting the side of the house. Maybe, she wanted him to adjust them, so they wouldn't hurt her delicate zinnias.

The striking, good-looking woman he adored, to the deepest part of his soul, usually had the answers and the best ideas. This time however, like those sprinklers, he had come to a wall. This time, he really needed help and her silence only made it worse, because deep in his heart, he knew the truth had nothing to do with lawn irrigation or zinnias. He waited for her to speak.

“Did Lani leave?” Penny asked, without moving her head to look at him.

He glanced at his watch and grumbled an affirmative answer, before his eyes moved to her adorable ears. Perky, little soft ears, with cushioned lobes, he enjoyed kissing.

“Well did she?”

“I said, yeah, sorry.”

“Stop being sorry,” she demanded, in a curt tone that reminded him of the way she spoke to their daughter Lani when she did something wrong.

But he couldn't help it. “Sorry.”

Sighing, she turned into the room. “Look, it's not your fault, we'll figure it out. We've figured other things out in the past, so maybe we'll get lucky and do it again.”

John didn't think luck had anything to do with it. Was she being facetious? The heaving of the shoulder and an additional sigh, told him her mind kept zipping through some pretty deep stuff. Sometimes, when the going got tough, she still managed to fall into her fantasy world where dreams became reality, and everything eventually worked out. Though an endearing aspect to their relationship, it didn't add anything solid to his side of any argument. Most often, he'd simply agree, supposing that she'd work it out in her mind. She had a magic touch which in most cases, worked in their favor, but this time, she sounded painfully hopeless. Unless he hawked some of the junk in the garage, so he could make a few bets on a horse race, he didn't see luck entering the picture.

He wasn't sure, but thought he noticed red-rimmed eyes and wet lashes, indicating the severity of her displeasure. Wearing vulnerability like a hat fashioned from invisible straw, something he rarely saw, confused him, making him feel helpless. Like a man in a leaky rowboat without any oars. She was more than simply his other half. She was his rock and that rock had become seriously upset. Anything he said only made him feel foolish. He didn't know what to do, or say, to make things right. When she sniffed, he noticed her nose had turned a rosy shade of pink.

The last time he saw her like this was at her dad's funeral. He couldn't fathom how any of this could even vaguely be similar to a life and death situation. His eyes watched her turn back to whatever was happening outside. The sprayers outside had stopped. He could hear the gentle hum of air-conditioning streaming through the vents. Think, he told his brain. Somewhere inside there might be an answer. After all, no one has died. But his brain redirected everything to his heart.

“Babe, I love you.” Maybe she just needed reassurance. The timing seemed awkward, so he looked down at his scuffed work boots.

“I know you do John, but sometimes love is not enough.”

Inside his chest, he felt his ticker beating like a Cuban conga drum. “What does that mean?”

“You tell me,” she replied with an angry tone to her usually lovely voice. “I quit my job at The Globe to raise our daughter and thank God, she's going to college. We both saved and scrimped for our little girl but now this…crap.” She paused for emphasis, waving her arms towards the window. “I don't even know what to say John. Without a job, we're going to lose our house. This recession hit Riverside County hard. The people across the street just went into foreclosure and there are five houses for sale on Lime Street.”

“I know Hon. I applied at six different sites and even asked Hans about being an apprentice at his cabinet shop. Construction is at a huge standstill right now.” The dialogue came to a standstill too. He listened for the sprinklers, still hearing nothing. A minute later Penny pointed out the window.

“Someone's at the Brown's house right now. I hope they mow the lawn.”

“Did you hear me? There are no construction jobs available. Like you said, it's a recession.”

“I hear you, but tell me what exactly happened at that cabinet shop?” She turned towards him, wiping her face on her sleeve.

“Hans fudged around trying to tell me he wanted a younger apprentice, without actually saying it. I think that's what he meant. Heck, nice guy and everything–but when he gets going, I have trouble understanding him. Guess it's that accent. Anyway, I'll keep looking, I promise.”

Her voice now an octave higher and louder, “I know he's nice John, but nice isn't helping us, is it?”

Man, how he hated arguing. “What do you mean by that?”

“It means–having beer with the old crew isn't going to solve this problem.”

Ouch, her sarcastic little comment hit below the belt. He had to admit the drinking buddies made him feel better about almost everything. Maybe he could turn the emphasis around and see how she liked it. “Well, you can go back to the paper.”

Disgusted, she rolled her eyes. “John, in case you haven't heard, there is no paper. It folded up, gonzo. Adios, bye-bye.”

He knew that and felt bad for saying anything about it. “Wasn't it sold to a new publisher?” He wanted to hug her, but she didn't look approachable. The difficulties and economic turmoil slamming the nation for two or three years were crashing onto his family like a wayward tornado. He needed to think of something fast. Think harder, he repeated to his inner self as if sending an elf down a corridor to open a few doors full of ideas.

“No, John the Globe is gone. Absorbed by the internet and that monstrosity we are subscribing to, which, as you know, is located over eighty miles from here. Nowadays, major metros eat community papers for breakfast. I'm sure you don't expect me to commute over one-hundred and sixty miles a day.”

He went to the window and placed his hand on her shoulder. “No, of course not, but I also want you to know I'm with you all the way dear.”

“I know that,” she whispered. “Any other bright ideas?”

He searched the street and stared at the lawn. Their flowers looked fine but the lawn at the Brown's house looked completely burned out. A colorful, blazing red foreclosure sign popped out of the dry grass like blooming tulips. There it was–a red sign that popped up in his mind with a plan.

“Not really, but I heard there's a bunch of new construction in Vegas.”

She moved away, causing his arm to fall from her shoulder. “And?” It looked like she had swallowed something disgusting. Even her nose wrinkled, as if an obnoxious odor had filled the room. “What does that have to do with anything? We don't live in Vegas, John.”

“You wanted ideas, Hon,” he said, pausing and trying to figure out what else he should add to the squabble. “Can I repeat one more time that I love you Penny?” He had run out of options but knew his feelings were in the right place. He rarely went to battle with her and like a good husband, generally chose the side of least resistance. Sick of fighting, yelling and wondering why everything had turned to shifting sand, he waited for her tone to subside.

“Sure, repeat it all you want, but love doesn't pay our bills.”

“Didn't love get us through everything before?”

She put her head down and began to sob. He placed an arm around her, pulling her near, so he could kiss away a salty tear and perhaps calm her down.

“Penny,” he said quietly. “Didn't your mom talk about patience and faith?”

“Yes, but…”

“With a little bit of planning, it will all work out. I promise. With your imagination and my desire to work hard, we can do anything.” More tears rolled from her radiant, now sparkling eyes, onto cheeks flushed with emotion. “Can you trust me?”

Quietly, she nodded and placed her head back on his shoulder. “I have so far,” she mumbled without conviction. It felt like a white flag of surrender. The type of submission that reminded her of submissive women in advertising campaigns of the fifties. Without a job or money, she had only one thing left. Fortunately, it was something valuable, something called love. The Murray family had loads of it. Love for each other. Love for strangers. Love for nature. For God. And, they were grateful for everything they ever had.

They both heard the garage door open as Lani's car drove up the driveway. “Let's not fall apart in front of Lani,” he whispered, pulling her toward the hallway and into the family room. A large portrait of a Hawaiian goddess in front of a volcano loomed above the fireplace. A New Zealand artist who met Penny after he had completed the picture had done the oil painting. Strangely, the woman in the painting looked identical to a younger version of Penny. John pointed at the framed artwork. “What's with the crying? Remember you're like the goddess Pele. People are supposed to fear you.”

Penny wiped her eyes with the back of her hand before smiling impishly at John. “Let's tell her we're going to Vegas.”