Elementary School Drop-out

Steve Katz

Steve Katz

Steve Katz
Location
Provincetown, Massachusetts, USA
Birthday
November 27
Title
owner
Company
Norma Glamp's
Bio
Steve Katz, owner of Norma Glamp's and Memories Gallery, began his career as a school teacher. He has taught art and ceramics at the high school and elementary school levels. His family is in iron and steel. His mother irons and his father steals, In 1988, he took a break from teaching to seek fame and fortune in Hollywood. While finding neither, he did manage to secure a recurring role as an extra on the TV sitcom, 'Cheers." Duties performed included sitting, standing and leaning against walls making silent conversation. Returning to the east coast in 1992, he became a full-time Provincetown resident and founded his two galleries to showcase his hand-colored Polaroid transfers and woven photographs. He lives with his partner Herb and his cat Louey in a home located on the most bumpy and rutted road in North America.....are you listening Provincetown Highway Department???????

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MAY 21, 2010 9:51PM

COUSIN RUTHIE'S FUNERAL

Rate: 34 Flag

"Oh my Gawd," Ceil said to herself. "Where did the  time go?"

She knew she had to be on the twelve-fifteen to Mount Vernon. She also knew she had to iron her black dress and find her black shoes.

She knew.

But she also knew that the macaroni and cheese  wouldn't bake itself. Waiting for the cheesy crust to form,  removing the hot mixture from the pan, and  transferring the hot dish to the Tupperware container had taken longer than expected.

"People like a little something after a funeral," she told herself. "A little nosh."

Dressed in her slip and bra, Ceil quickly ran the iron over her dress  and slipped the garment on,  stepped into her shoes, and grabbed the Tupperware container.

"I'm leaving now Harry."

There was no response..

"You know, you really should be going to my cousin's funeral. Harry"

Again, no response from Harry.

Why did she bother? Harry never talked to her. Never. She knew that.

"Well, good-bye then," she said as she grabbed her little black purse. "I'm leaving now."

As usual, Harry said nothing.

*******

Ceil knew she had ten minutes to catch ther train to Mount Vernon. "Too bad they didn't have the funeral in the Bronx," she thought to herself. "Well, if having her funeral in Mount Vernon made Ruthie happy, that's all that mattered."

Ceil missed the twelve-fifteen. She got lost in the station.  It wasn't until after one o'clock that she was on her way to Mount Vernon. A nice man in a grey suit slid over to give Ceil a seat.

"Oh thank you Sir," Ceil said politely although she would have preferred the window seat.

The man eyed the giant Tupperware tub containing  the macaroni and cheese.."I'm going to a funeral, Ceil explained. "My Cousin Ruthie. Died from a goiter. This is a little something for after the funeral."

The man edged away from Ceil and toward the window.

"Can you imagine?" Ceil asked the man who was now hiding behind a newspaper. "Killed by a goiter," she said as she wiped her brow with a Kleenex. "My cousin was only fifty-six years old. Gone. Just like that."

Ceil thought about the Kleenex in her purse. "You know," she explained," you can never have too many Kleenexes at a funeral," She  removed a small package  and took out the tissues and neatly smoothed each of them so they were in a perfecly flat pile. "Never enough Klennexes. That's what I say."

That must have been when Ceil missed the announcement.

The loudspeaker called out, "All those getting off at Mount Vernon, please use the first two cars. First two cars only for Mount Vernon."

By the time she realized her mistake, there was nothing she could do. She gathered up her purse and Tupperware and ran toward the front of the train. But it was too late. The train had already begun to slow down."

"Wait!" Ceil yelled. "Wait for me! I have to get off."

Ceil was in the third car when the train started to move again.

She called out to no one in particular, " Stop this train.I have to go to a funeral."

 There was a slight gasp as the passengers in the car looked down at their feet.  No one wanted to make eye contact with this woman."It's my Cousin Ruthie. She's dead.  Don't you see?  It's her funeral!  Didn't you people know that I had to get off this train at Mount Vernon? Why didn't any of you say anything?  It was very important!" No one said a word. " All of you listen to me." she yelled. "I had to get off this train." Her screams became louder. "I had to get off this train to go to a funeral. Isn't anyone listening to me?? I'm missing my cousin's funeral!"

 There was utter silence in the car. Ceil was  completely out of control.

"Lady. Lady,"  said the conductor, who had just entered the car. Trying to calm her down, he said, "Now lady  you can get off at the next stop. That would be North Pelham Just cross under the bridge and wait for the train going back to Mount Vernon. It'll be here in about twenty minutes." He patted her on the back. "Now you just sit down and wait for the announcement."

She took another sheet of Kleenex and tried to dry herself off. She stuck a wad of Kleenex under each armpit. Her dress was sticking to her back and the Tupperware was making her arms ache.

The Mount Vernon bound train roared into the station and the door opened right in front of Ceil. The conductor held the Tupperware as  Ceil mounted the steps.

"Those passengers exiting at Mount Vernon, please use the last two cars. Last two cars for Mount Vernon."

This time Ceil paid attention. She listened closely and when the conductor yelled. "Mount Vernon!" she was the first one in the aisle and the first one off the train.

She dashed up the platform steps and ran across the street. The funeral home wasn't far away. She would be there soon.

The building was surprisingly quiet. No one was outside waiting for the service to begin.

"Oh Gawd," she said to herself. "They must have started the service without me." she wiped the perspiration off hersel as best she could and took a moment to freshen her lipstick."

She opened the heavy wooden door.

The room was empty.

"Where is everybody?" she yelled to the only man in the room. "Where did they all go?"

"To the cemetery Miss." he said. "Left about ten minutes ago."

Ceil sat in the first red velvet seat and began to cry.

She had disapointed Cousin Ruthie by missing her funeral.

But more importantly, she had disapointed herself.

Ceil looked in her compact mirror and saw the face of an old woman.  A stupid old woman who couldn't even find her way to a funeral. A woman who had a  husband who hated her

When had it all   gone wrong? When had life stop being fun?  She might as well be lying next to Ruthie in that goddam coffin.

She sat in the empty room unfolding Kleenex after Kleenex as she silently wept.

Then she dumped the container of food into the trash can and slowly made her way back to The Bronx.

Harry would be waiting for his dinner.

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Comments

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Great descriptions...wonderful piece thanks for the memories of relatives we all have like Ceil! R
So sad...but I did like "A little nosh."
Another great slice of life, Steve.
A sad, weird day-in-the-life story. Well done.
steve, steve, steve!! you made my day when i saw you'd written another story! thank you for taking time to do this one. i felt like i was living right inside ceil, inhabiting all of her senses. your wonderful descriptions and sensitivity shine though once again! love your style and thank you once again for allowing us a glimpse into your memories.
Imagine living a life where there is no happiness.
Well written, but very tragic.
R
Interesting. I got caught up in it and was actually sad she missed the funeral. R.
This could be me, except I would have eaten the mac and cheese, while crying. (Good to see you around -- but you said...)
@Bellwether: I have a computer in the store...when it is quiet, I can read a post or two or piece together a story. Hopefully, as the summer begins, things will pick up to the point where I have no computer time....Please God!
Well done and so sad. I can see this woman though. In my head she is Vicki Lawrence as Mama from Mama's Family. Well, that's just what my brain came up with. :S
@Painting The Stars: Funny. Everyone has their own image when reading a story. I pictured her with dyed black hair and vertical lines around her lips that allowed the lipstick to crawl up the wrinkles... her beauty, like her life, has passed her by...
I love your style, my friend; well done, Steve. R
when i get frustrated and overheated, i will remember ciel and "you can't have too many kleenexes"
Tell you the truth, I thought we were going to find out that Harry had kicked the bucket sitting in his chair and Ceil had never noticed. But, then, the story would have a happy ending . . .

Excellent job of putting us inside Ceil's head, Steve.
I pictured her to look like Shelley Winters as she appeared in the Poseidon Adventure ... don't know why ... just did.

A great story Steve. Well done.
Sadly funny Steve. Great descriptive writing.
@Little Kate: yeah, Shelly Winters is perfect. She always had that mildly downtrodden look about her.

Lezlie
Got caught up in ceil's world, the odor of the funeral, and the despair of her own life when she finally reached her destination. Loved the train conductor, the only person in the whole story who did not turn away from ceil or slink away from the whiff of death. Loved the detail that described his gentleness and humaneness: the redirecting of a lost person, the comfort of his patting, the support in holding her casserole dish as she got off the train and back on track. I could hear them both.
Wonderful story. You drew me in..if I were Ceil, Harry would still be waiting for his dinner.

r)
Steve, this was great, as usual. You write this type of story as well as anyone I've read!
Amazing story-teller, Steve. Rated.
I like your stories, Steve, this one included. I just found myself wondering: Is the plural of Kleenex, Kleenexes? I always thought it was the same word whether singular or plural, like moose. This one is like someone's frustrating dream, the sort of thing that can't be helped, but can. Well written.
Who takes macaroni and cheese to a Jewish funeral?
A kugel, sponge cake, a coffee cake or even kasha varnishkes might be more fitting.
Now get back to your customers.


{[R]}
@Leepin Larry: when you're right, you're right.
Maybe the rabbi's name was Mac A. Roni....though I think probably not.
@Kathy: I purposely put in "Kleenexes" to show her lack of sophistication... now I think Herb and I will have our breakfastes now....
@Thoth: I thank you for liking my style...if you keep readin' 'em, I'll keep writin' 'em.
I've had these moments. Occurrences where not even the train goes my way, always seem to highlight my failings and shortcomings but don't accomplish much else. I always just feel bad about myself and my life and I never seem to have mac-n-cheese with me for a little comfort nosh.
What a sad story. Hopefully next time she took a bus. Keep these interesting characters coming. Rated
As always, you know how to get the most out of the story. Another good one, Steve.
Very Sad story. Rated
Very poignant and real. Great voice--as always.
I had an "Aunt Ruthie." Only a few people came to her funeral. Your story reminded me of her.
Rated
Inspired . . . I can see my Grandma in Ceil, her confusion, her dissappointment, and her love of food and food meaning life and love.
I didn't even know she was sick.
@Leon: You know, that's the way life is...one day, no goiter, next day: goiter.
Steve, you already know, I adore you. You're so good at this. I couldn't wait to get back to see what you'd written. You always have just the right tone and pace. Your ability to draw the reader in is exemplary.
Steve...way to break my heart! This was just beautiful, yet another piece of yours that I've added a musical score to in my head.
well done, Steve. xo
You are so good, Steve. I was almost out of breath as the poor woman struggled... R