Tamara’s Tamasha

One

On Her Own

Hyperventilating, Tamara Hickerman finally spotted what she thought was the right house. She had been unsuccessfully hunting for the right address for the past hour and a half. She pulled her car over to the curb to check her map. Staring out through her windshield at the hand-painted sign in Chinese red, its three-inch high numbers fastened to the corner of the garage, which she had been told had been converted from a three car garage into a business studio... 111 Lilac Cul-de-sac. She sighed with relief. Even from the street she could easily read the sign... Therapeutic Massage. Only it’s too bad the therapist is off on a vacation somewhere. After moving all my stuff into storage and leaving home, I could sure use a massage.

Without the massage as a possibility, she would have to work at calming herself. She hunched her shoulders up under her ears, then forcefully relaxed them. She had nearly panicked when she thought she’d gotten herself lost...again! The unfamiliar city of Sanbrossa where she had been accepted at the university, had a labyrinth of streets ending and beginning again several blocks over. She had almost given up hope of ever finding the right address without seeking help from a stranger. In fact, she had seriously thought about hiring a cab and then following it to the correct address.

But she verified she had finally located the right house. Drawing in a deep yoga breath, she willed her hands to stop shaking. She eased her car into the driveway and turned off the ignition. I’m never going to admit to Mom just how many times I got lost...I was so scared.

Now that she sat in front of the house where she was to stay, Tamara could mentally envision which direction she needed to take from here to locate the university, and the tiny strip-mall with its laundromat, and the mom-n-pop grocers. What more could I possibly need? Like, maybe a bank? I’ll have to open an account somewhere to deposit my loan check... but not today. Just getting here has been stress enough for one day.

Tamara’s stomach flipped just remembering her anxiety of finding a place to live... within her budget. But her mom having relocated her college roommate on Facebook, realized this was a grand opportunity for the both of them. Her mom had told her that Lois, her college chum, hadn’t celebrated her wedding anniversary in many years. Lois and her husband had agreed to let Tamara house-sit their large rambling ranch-style house while they were away. They were so excited to have found someone reliable to look after the house, bringing in the mail, watering the yard, and catering to all the wild birds. Then, as soon as the Potbenders returned from their vacation in the Caribbean, they had assured Tamara she could stay on in one of their many guest suites while she was attending college.

Taking another reassuring breath, Tamara checked her pocket one more time to reassure herself that the house key was still there. The engine block ticked and crackled as it cooled, and Tamara wrung her ice-cold fingers around the spasm in the back of her neck, feeling the tension subside now that she had actually arrived.

The cat inside his carrier muttered his need to be let out.

"Yeah, yeah! Robin, if you hadn’t been such a smartass about trying to help me drive, you could have had the whole car to roam around in. It only seems like you’ve been locked up forever. Just let me go open up the house and I’ll come right back for you." But the unhappy cat, disagreed loudly in his quarrelsome Tommy-voice. She knew what he was alluding to. She couldn’t afford to have him pick his own potty-spot somewhere in a stranger’s house.

First, she would have to set up the litter box before she dared introduce him to a strange house, or run the risk of a mishap.

Hang on, Robin! she assured the beast. She slipped out of the car, closing the door quickly behind her, trying to save what cool air the air-conditioner had made, inside the car. She unlocked the trunk, and grabbed up her cat supplies. Popping the house key between her teeth, she loaded her arms and hurried up the concrete walk toward the front door. She had a brand new litter pan in one hand, and in the other a heavy box of cat litter straining the muscles of her other arm, clear up to her shoulder socket. The scoop will have to wait. I’ve only got two hands.

Unlocking the entry door, she scooted inside. After a frantic inspection of the sprawling ranch house, Tamara chose one of the back bedrooms overlooking the spacious backyard for her and Robin. It would keep the cat confined while she unloaded the car. At the moment it was way too hot to accomplish that chore. Except for the cat, the rest would have to wait. She tossed down the pan and filled it with litter. Then she went off through the house hunting for the control panel for the central air-conditioner. When she found it in the central hall, she flipped it on before heading back for the cat. Just why her mom had decided she needed to bring the cat along was still a mystery, beyond good reason as far as she was concerned. Perhaps her mom figured she would get homesick without having something to remind her of her family back home.

Tamara returned to the car and struggled to lug the cat carrier toward the bedroom she had chosen for them. She set it on the floor, next to his new litter box. Swinging open the gate on the transporter wasn’t done quickly enough to suit Robin, who was swearing by then. There was no preamble. The cat stiffly dragged himself out of the travel box and leaped into the litter tray. Ignoring his usual ritual of digging, he squatted. The cat purred happily as he voided his bladder. All the while his front feet kneaded joyfully.

When finished, the grey tiger-striped cat ignored his usual toiletries. He leaped out of the litter box, shaking duff off each foot, separately. His attention had been drawn to the padded bench in front of the glass-slider overlooking the busy action at the bird feeder. Tail-knob twitching, the animal stared out the window to watch the aerial show.

At that moment, a grey squirrel swung down out of the tree, determined to reach inside the feeder. Robin’s chin began to vibrate as he chattered.

No, no, naughty kitty! That one’s probably not on your menu... and you’d best leave all those birdies alone too. What was Mom thinking when she insisted I bring you along? You’ll probably get us both in trouble. Without another word, Robin continued to stare at the forbidden query.

Don’t even go there! Tamara warned. Although Robin’s ears twitched and went flat, proving he had really heard her, his eyes never left trailing the squirrel’s antics. It probably has a name, and you know perfectly well that things with names are off limits.

Robin muttered under his breath. Tamara imagined him having a hard time remembering that rule. She sat beside Robin on the padded window-bench and stroked his coarse fur until he finally stopped his agitated muttering. Taking her cell phone out of her pocket, Tamera pressed the speed dial to telephone home to announce she had arrived safely. Her mother picked up on the first ring.

That you, baby?

Yes, Mom...it’s me. Were you expecting Robin to report in?

Her mom laughed. No. Of course not, sweetie. Speaking of Robin, how did he take the trip?

Outside of his being insistent on helping me drive, things went pretty well. Right now he’s watching the bird feeder. Does Lois know I’ve brought one of the cats with me?

There was a guilty pause. Well, no. Will it cause a problem?

It all depends on how fast this squirrel can run, Tamara answered.

Oh dear. What squirrel? I’ll ask her then when she calls after they reach their destination, Linda replied.

Mom, ask if it has a name. In the meantime, I’ll keep Robin indoors, Tamara promised.

He isn’t going to like that. That’s for sure. Try spending more time with him, dear.

Right! flared the teenager. That ought to help keep both of us out of trouble.

Well, you know what I mean. Be cautious until they return. It may just be a seed-bandit who has discovered the feeder. You know. Free food? Who knows until we can ask, her mother said.

Okay, Mom. I’ll give it a try. It might be a good chance to learn a different language. She laughed, just thinking about it. She envisioned a full-fledged course being taught at the university. What cartoon was it? About a llama... The King’s Grove? With the big guide teaching chipmunk-speak.

The thermometer in the window declared the afternoon temperature had begun to drop. Tamara studied her map more closely. It was time to search for the mom-n-pop market. Was the grocery store over two blocks, and up a block on Snively Street? Or over a block and down Lilac Court two blocks? Or over a block and up a block to the Quick-Mart?

Tamara caressed her cell phone to get a bigger map of her neighborhood. The picture enlarged. Her dad had always teased her about being directionally challenged. Or was that impaired? But this was no laughing matter. She couldn’t afford to get lost in a strange city without anyone to help her get untangled. Having an anxiety attack in the middle of a strange city, without friends to help... Let it go, Tamara, she scolded herself. Think positive!

Okay, Robin. You watch the house while I’m gone. I’ll bring you a treat. The cat’s ears perked at the mention of a treat. He sat up and cleaned his massive paws with expectation. She hoped the small market carried raw meats. That was how Robin liked it best.

Once, when she had been buying several cartons of raw chicken livers, someone standing in the check-out line behind her had asked how she prepared it. Trying to manage a serious expression, she had explained how she washed it carefully, patted it dry in paper towels, then slicing it thin, she served it raw. After the rolled eyes and groans of distaste, she finally admitted it was for her cats.

Tamara closed the bedroom door behind her as she ventured into the main hall of the house so she needn’t worry about Robin streaking to make a fast getaway out the front door when she returned with her arms filled with purchases... a microwavable dinner, a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter for breakfast, plus as she had promised, liver for the cat. And while she was out she’d pinpoint the university campus located on Sanbrossa Boulevard.

She pulled out of the driveway, drove one block down Lilac Court, and stopped at the cross street. Turn right and drive two blocks down Snively Street, she instructed herself. Her heart fluttered as she reached the end of the second block and found the market, right where she had expected it to be. She drove into the small parking lot and pulled into a space right next to the front door. She thrilled even with this small victory. Now that she had located it in daylight, the directions would be solid in her mind.

Back from shopping, Tamara carefully oriented the map on the seat beside her to the correct direction. Holding her breath she located Sanbrossa Boulevard with her fingertip on the map. She turned the key in the ignition, starting her green bug... then drove until she found the front gate of the university grounds. When the traffic signal changed, she turned onto the campus main drive and parked. Clasping a splayed hand over her pounding heart, she gathered up brochures to mark the correct building with a highlighter pen. Her mother would have been so proud that she had managed to do this by herself. Doing it now would save her from having an anxiety attack come the first day of class. She highlighted her map and made the trip successfully back to Lilac Cul-de-sac. She was so happy she wanted to telephone her mom to tell her, but thought maybe her mom might think her childish to admit such a small victory. But Robin would understand. She’d tell him.

Tamara unpacked the trunk of the car. The groceries went into the refrigerator, the coffee maker on the counter, but she carried her personal things down the hall to the room she had selected. When she opened the door, Robin sat on the padded bench, pretending to ignore her...except his ears were giving him away.

Tamara hung her dresses and folded her tee-shirts and jeans into the drawers, playing the ignoring game as well as any cat. Her various shorts and leggings went into another drawer. But Robin’s ‘Won’t Power’ was stronger than her own. She finally went to him and began telling him about her outing. Keeping his eyes on the flock of finches at the feeder, he listened patiently. After she had vented her frustrations, Robin rolled over, and stretching, rested one of his large paws against her thigh.

I knew you’d understand, she said to the cat. They sat in silence, grooving on their mutual friendship.

Two

Casing the Joint

Tamara felt like a thief ‘casing the joint’ as she and Robin investigated the common rooms off the central hallway, library, den, smoking room, TV nook, laundry, and so on, pussyfooting from day room to den. She opened and closed closet doors, poking here and prying there. Robin liked the cupboards in the entertainment room the best. With his paw, Robin pulled the sliding cabinet door open, peeked inside then slipped into one cupboard only to materialize out of another.

The framed photographs on the mantel in the family room told a story of their own...a large family had once lived here, the five younger siblings having outgrown their home. She introduced herself to the photograph of the grey-haired couple, Mr. Larry and Mrs. Lois Potbender, parents to the five youngsters and homeowners of this safe haven. She had names for these parents, but could only guess their ages. Considering the entire house was without clutter, she guessed that none of the children lived at home any longer.

She had to envision the names that might have gone with the five school-aged youngsters, the older ones had probably married and moved away. There were featured photographs of tots and infants...all grandchildren, she supposed.

One elaborate frame was turned face down on a small antique table. Tamara stood poised, hand extended, puzzled why this was so. Had it just fallen over? She didn’t think so. What could possibly be the reason behind anyone not just throwing the picture away, if the individual was in this much disgrace? But curiosity got the better of her. She turned the picture over and stared into the crystal blue eyes of a handsome young man. He looked to be close to her own age...well, at least, whenever the picture may have been taken, she realized. However, the dust layered on the back of the frame was witness to just how long it had laid face-down.

No matter what he’s done, they must still love him, or the photograph wouldn’t still be here, would it? she mused.

Then a sudden electric shock bolted through her, and she knew that she would never have the privilege of meeting him. Her intuitive-self witnessed his car flipping end over end, colliding with a massive oak. Her heart fluttered. The scene was so crisp she could have counted the leaves on the tree. She intuited that a horrendous auto accident must have killed him...and the family’s grief engulfed her. She couldn’t have predicted how this was going to affect her. Stunned, Tamara picked up the photograph and studying it, felt unusually sad. She leaned over and sweetly kissed the young man’s grinning lips. He didn’t deserve being forgotten. He would count as one of the absent family members as long as she was living in the house. As soon as she could catch her breath, she set the photo back in its designated spot, only face up this time.

Robin poked his nose against her bare thigh and complained about the maid service. Tamara removed her cell phone from her shorts' pocket, noting the time. Good heavens, Robin! I had no idea it was past lunch time. She had been so busy digesting the clues of the household she hadn’t noticed how hungry she was. Having delivered his message, Robin was already stamping on his way toward the kitchen for their dinner.

Tamara followed, extracted a sliver of chicken liver out of the plastic tub and stuck it into the microwave for a few seconds, then opened drawers until she located a sharp paring knife to cut Robin’s promised treat into smaller pieces. He sat on the counter, tail swishing, his purr rumbling loudly as he watched her prepare his early dinner. As Tamara thinly sliced the meat, Robin caught one sliver with his fishing claws and lifted it toward his mouth.

That’s a good way to get your whiskers cut off, mister, she warned. Robin looked away, delicately licking the flavor from each claw with his raspy tongue.

For herself, Tamara constructed an avocado and bacon sandwich. Then, not wanting to put so few dishes into the dishwasher, she washed everything by hand and placed them in the dish rack to air-dry.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the doorbell rang. She and the cat slipped out of the kitchen, sneaking up to the front door. The buzzer rang again. Not knowing the neighborhood, Tamara opened the door cautiously and quickly latched the screen door. She tried to put it to memory about henceforth locking the screen door behind her whenever she entered. An older gentleman stood on the porch, holding the leash to a slobbering bull dog.

Good evening, he called jovially. Saw the lights on and wondered who might be inside.

The slobbering dog snuffed the cat through the screen door. Tamara didn’t know what to make of him, and the man went on. Oh, forgive me. I’m Guy Goodal, and this here is Jimmy. He gave the dog a fond glance. I live across the way, and I sort of keep my eyes on things whenever Larry’s away. He never mentioned that anyone was going to be staying here.

How do you do, Tamara said. I’m Ta-mar-a. I’d open the door to greet you, but then the cat would get out.

Oh, that’s all right.

"I confess I’ve never really met the couple that lives here. My mother told me she and Lois had been good roommates in college. I’ll be attending the university as soon as they commence, and then I was going to