Dusty Waves of San Francisco

¶ … dusty waves of San Francisco Bay

Spread along the shores

The day my father rode away,

His Harley spinning grass behind him

And my mother's tears flowing down the driveway.

He'll be alright, Nikki said, cheerful cute and charming

As usual, her hair wrapped up in a messy bun atop her small head

Attached at the nape of her neck with a butterfly clip

The color yellow, like her necklace, like her skirt,

Which made me always wonder why she wasn't named Sunshine instead.

Mother turned to me after dad's bike could no longer be heard in the wind's tired whispers

And said, you're in charge of dinner, your father won't be back for a while stared at my feet for a moment and then said that I would

Wash the carrots, the broccoli, and the herbs

But that Dillon had to do the dishes afterward

And Chad would have to help too

Because just because I am her oldest son I am not yet patriarch.

Too young, yet just old enough to know when my mother needed time

Television blaring in our cozy living room

Some reality show capturing mother's attention

Maybe the one about wife swapping

Maybe Fear Factor,

Turning her mind away from worries about her husband

Mother sank into the couch and stared.

I ran the kitchen sink, staring out into the yard

Daydreaming of my dad's adventures on the road.

Five o'clock on Sunday afternoon it was when I glanced at the clock on the microwave,

Light shining intensely bright through our windows

Made patterns on the tile floor and graced our indoor plants

With the gift of photosynthesis.

Did the day turn into evening slowly or,

As the wind rushed through his hair,

Did dad slowly see the sun slip into the sea,

Its last warm tendrils kissing his wind-burned skin

Hands at least protected by black calfskin gloves,

Eyes and head by helmet,

Feet by boots,

None of it enough to make mom's heart stop beating so fast.

The dusty waves of San Francisco Bay

Spread along the shores

As I ran my fingers through water warm

Rubbing vegetable after vegetable

While water rose to a boil on the stove.

Father of the house for a moment or two, yelled out.

Dillon! Chad! Nikki! Get in here!"

Graceless, unlike he who raised me,

My voice hoarse, commanding, yet totally lacking

Power, authority, meaning.

It took mom's backing up:

Listen to your brother!"

Her voice bellowed,

Much like the exhaust, I imagined,

That bellowed through the Harley's tail pipe,

Dad on the saddle,

Wind through his hair.

It takes fifteen years off. You've gotta try it out Steve,"

Dad's best friend said the other day.

Oh come on," said mom. "Please,"

Sarcasm oozing from her lips.

Kathy, you wouldn't understand,"

Both men snickered, and mom rolled her eyes

Halfway inside her head.

She stomped off, dust trailing behind her.

I can't believe this."

Dad and his friend admired the bike for a full ten minutes more.

Standing in the driveway

Caring not for the drizzles falling from the sky.

Tomorrow

What time?"

Whenever's good for you. Five-ish?"

Sure thing, Steve. You're gonna love it!"

Ed buzzed off, first revving the engine for a full minute

Pulling hard on the hand throttles

And letting the noise ring throughout the valley.

Like it or not, the sound of a Harley is like a tribal drum mating call, fountain of youth.

While I washed vegetables, Nikki grabbed me a knife

And a cutting board

And away we went.

I was in charge.

I told my sister what to do. I told my brothers what to do.

Nothing new.

Chad was a pterodactyl with tendrils

And claws like an eagle, his voice shrill and hard to ignore.

Dillon, the tyrannosaurus Rex in the family

Towered over him and roared,

But Chad can fly.

In less than two minutes the kitchen was a battleground

We all tossed salad in the air, our makeshift weapons

Made of lettuce, good thing the knife stayed still.

The doorbell rang, piercing through our own battle cries.

I'll get it!" shouted Nikki, her footsteps falling fast.

Oh Hi Nick!"

Suspiciously early for dinnertime, Nick, dad's best friend

Sauntered into the living room to be near the glowing television and mom's frown.

I heard them chat but stayed in my domain, which for now was the kitchen.

Five-thirty it was now. Dad was somewhere on the highway.

Which way did he go?

Did he pass by the bat cave that smelled like glass cleaner?

Did he fly by the XXX video store with his eyes half-closed?

Did he wink at the girls in the convertible next to him,

Did he flick off the highway patrolman as he flew by in a blur?

Was he an easy rider or a slow roadster?

Would he stop for a burger on his way home?

Ten minutes later the timer went off and I grabbed the oven mitts.

Before I stuck my hands inside their plush fluff, spotted Jasmine, the neighbor's cat

In our yard, as she was won't to do, hunting as if she was still in the jungle,

Not caring that she prayed on insects in freshly mowed grass

And not on lizards in the forest.

The red birds, black birds, blue jays and hummingbirds fled the scene, sensing Jasmine's nefarious intent.

As if she heard me thinking of her, Jasmine looked straight at me:

She stared. She bored a hole through me as if she saw something behind me,

As if she was warning me.

Startled, I stood transfixed, not caring that on the stove the water rumbled

Like the mighty Pacific miles away from our forested door.

The earth shook and the dusty waves of San Francisco Bay

Collided with the shores. I know: I heard them.

And Jasmine knew before anyone.

A dropped the oven mitts, and they hit the floor silently. The pot

Continued to boil furiously, but I shut it off, silencing its fury.

A shut the oven off too and kept my eyes on the rack of knives

Above my head, their pointy tips sparkling in what remained of the Afternoon light. Nikki screamed.

Mom answered with "Everyone OK?"

Nick, like a father, echoed her concerns.

I ran into the living room, where Nikki, Chad, and Dillon

Sat on the floor, all three of them now grinning with the delight

That comes from experiencing nature's displays and emerging unscathed.

Oh God, Steve..."

Mom's face blanched. Nick put his arms around her and rubbed her shoulders.

I'm sure he's alright. He knows what to do. Don't worry. That was nothing."

Mom shook her head and brushed Nick's hand off her shoulder with firmness.

A left the room and headed back for my domestic domain for the night.

The kitchen awaited me with open arms, and Jasmine was no longer

Anywhere in the yard.

A flicked back on the stove and the oven and went back to work,

Now glad to be alone because an electrical charge surged through my body

After the quake, as it usually did.

A resisted the temptation to cut the carrots now, because my hands still trembled.

Dad must be alright, in fact, he probably didn't even notice.