Up on the Roof
The sun was shining on Fayette Street. On the street it came in dappled pieces of sunlight through the leafy cover of the elms that lined the street. But Karen had opened her bedroom window and gone out on the roof of her mother’s house as had been her habit for many years.
Ithaca was not Tampa, but as they say, even the sun shines on a dog’s ass some days, and this was one of those days. Karen laid out her beach blanket with the California Raisins Quartet on it. She was all about sunbathing and she could think of few things she would rather be than a California Raisin. In fact, her best Halloween costume ever was when she, Lisa, Nancy and Cindy dressed up like raisins a few years ago and damn near won best costume.
Just then a drip of sweat slid down her nose and it brought her back to her whereabouts. She found herself humming an old Drifters tune that she loved. “When I come home feelin’ tired and beat, I go up where the air is fresh and sweet (up on the roof).”
She had had a rough day at work. It was her nature to not let it show. She could never find it in her to share her problems and grief of the moment with those around her. Better to give them the joy of a smile or the tweak of a joke. But it did weigh on her and make it necessary to get some alone time. “I get away from the hustling crowd, and all that rat-race noise down in the street (up on the roof).”
Karen brought her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose. She could see Shari down in front of her house. Shari and she had been buddies for many years. She and Shari would talk whenever she walked by and Shari was outside, which was most of the time. They never talked about anything, but they always spoke from the heart. She was reminded of the Christmas card Shari had sent her. It was a precious statement of friendship like none other that she had ever gotten. The beauty of Shari was that there were no filters that kept the pure feelings from coming through. That’s a rare quality and Karen appreciated it for its honesty. Shari had said, “Whenever I think of who I would love to see, you come to my mind. Whenever I think of cards, gifts or holidays, you are the first person I think of. You are one of a kind.”
Karen’s mind drifted back to the sun on her face and it took her to that place of peace that only a nap in the sun can find. She felt the wind in her hair as she drove her convertible with the top down. The tunes were blaring from the CD player and it was Barry White, coming to her from Rock and Roll Heaven (You know they have a helluva band). “…You’re my sun, my moon, my guiding star. My kind of wonderful, that’s what you are…”. Nobody sang it like Barry and his bass-baritone silky smooth voice. Barry was only 59 when he died, way too young for someone so special, Karen thought.
In Karen’s dream she was going places in that convertible. Sometimes it was to the beach in Tampa, sometimes to Buttermilk Falls, and sometimes to nowhere at all. If there was sun and a pack of cigarettes, that’s all she needed. She didn’t need there to be fun, because she would always bring the fun with her.
Wherever she went, Karen always wanted it to be with her family. She and Grandma Louise had plotted and schemed after she graduated from High School about getting themselves down to Florida. It planted a bug in her ear. Grandma Louise got distracted by some money-making scheme or other, so Karen enlisted her best friend, Lisa and off they went to Tampa with little Shawn in tow (he was too young to get a vote, so he got a box of Fruit Loops and gave his proxy willingly.). She hated leaving Pete, Mike and Mom in Ithaca, but she figured it was their choice and it sucked for them, but so be it.
Tampa was everything she had hoped for…mostly sun and sand, breeding ground for all good raisins. After Lisa and Shawn had had their fill in a few years, Karen decided to start a branch of Pete’s Cayuga Bar in Tampa and named it the Groggery Pub. A batch of chicken wings with her special blue cheese dipping sauce was just this side of snacking heaven. Karen smacked her lips just dreaming about it.
Just then, the sun went behind the house next door and Karen opened one eye at a time. She tossed the sunbathing paraphernalia through the window and into her bedroom. She went into the bathroom to see if the sun had done its job. She stood in front of the mirror making funny faces to herself. She had no idea how much other people looked forward to those funny faces. She needed to start dinner or Mom would start getting ornery. A good portion of spaghetti and meatballs would keep her quiet for the evening. Geoff didn’t like her meatballs, which might leave her and Mom to watch what she wanted on TV for the evening.
While she stood at the stove cooking, her mind wandered back to her peaceful afternoon and that Drifter’s song, “On the roof, the only place I know, where you just have to wish to make it so. Let’s go up on the roof (up on the roof).”
Karen died in the sun at age 59, way too young for someone so special. We should all think of her as not gone, but just with Barry White, up on the roof always watching over us all with unconditional love.