Six of Pentacles [Reversed]

Our Rooming House—EVENING

Later, I pull my car into my driveway, not thinking that everyone else on the tenement claim the drive in its entirety. I am expected to remain in the street.

But before I can back out someone is pulling in a huge Winnebago camper in behind me, honking angrily. I gun the car in reverse and barely manage to back around them, but clip the end of the maroon sedan they have in tow before hitting the street. I get out. The sedan has barely a smudge on it. My car is somewhat dented. Maggie and Sailor Lou get out calling “What’s the matter, Frank?”

They sound more concerned than angry as I inspect the damage. But they are only concerned about their car, not me or mine.

“I am having the worst day ever,” I yell.

Andrea is nowhere to be found. And after this day, I suspect the worse. So to take my mind of things, I pour a brandy and find an old movie on the small television in the bedroom.

Soon, there is a knock at my bedroom door, but it is not our annoying boarders, but a pretty young woman. A redhead. Of course.

“Hello. Mr. Trautman?”

“Yes?”

“Sorry to bother you, but I am the Phone Checker.”

I don’t know exactly what a phone checker is. But I point her to the bakelite beast in the front room. She has a string of personal questions, census-type questions. I stammer and spit a little trying to talk to her. Half feeling intruded upon and half feeling intimidate by her beauty. I answer her questions while she inspects the phone. And then follow her out to the parlor to talk to the tenants. She talks to the old crank a bit, while Sailor Lou scowls in my direction. And then Lou follows her out the door to show her the exterior telephone hook ups.

I’m left alone with the old man.

I hate the old man.

He says. “Lou is pissed at you.”

“Why?”

“He saw you flirting with the Phone Checker.”

“I wasn’t. Who cares if I was?.”

“Lou is going to ask her out.”

“So, I’ll apologize for flirting with her. I don’t want to get in the way of Sailor Lou’s extramarital affairs.”

“This is not what is supposed to happen in this time continuum,” the old man says, jabbing a finger at me. you have messed up what is supposed to happen. Now who knows what will happen next?”

“Oh, come now,” I chide but the old man claps his hands over his ears and screams.

“History is unbound! History is unbound!”