A Man Named Dave

branches of the service.”
    “Russell?” Grandmother exclaimed. “Let me tell you something about Russell! He borrowed my metal chest. I loaned it to him … going off with some church group to Hawaii, picking pineapples for the harvest… or whatever they do over there. I don’t understand why their people don’t do their own work. If you ask me, it’s nothing but a vacation. Back in my day, when you worked, it certainly wasn’t over there among the palm trees, that I can tell you. It was hard work, all day every day.
    “Anyway, ever since he came back – high and mighty, I might add – he comes over telling me that I’ll get my chest next time; he forgot it or he’s too busy. By the time I got the damn thing, it was in a terrible condition. That’s not the way I had loaned it to him, I can tell you that!”
    I sat with every muscle in my face frozen. I could not believe the floodgates I had opened. Grandmother was on one of her spiteful rolls. With my back against the chair, I asked myself if there was any subject, any person, safe to talk about. She went on. “The chest is useless to me now. You’d think as much as I do, it wouldn’t be too much to ask to have my chest returned in the condition I loaned it to him!”
    “Grandma!” I halfheartedly interjected, “you’ve traveled a lot. You know how it is. Things get banged up. You probably had that chest for what, years? I’m sure Russell didn’t know how much it meant to you. Besides” – I shrugged my shoulders – “he can’t help what happens when it’s loaded from plane to plane all over Hawaii.”
    “Doesn’t matter!” she huffed. “I paid a great deal for that chest. He should have apologized. I may have accepted that rather than his – his treachery. I can’t and won’t tolerate a liar!”
    I wanted to reach over and hug Grandmother’s frustration away. I couldn’t believe that she had become so worked up over something so petty. “Maybe,” I said, “Russell was embarrassed. Maybe he was afraid to bring the chest back to you after he returned from Hawaii. Do you think that might be the reason he might have avoided you?” I delicately asked, trying once again to defuse the situation.
    “Doesn’t matter. If you can’t keep your word, then keep your mouth shut!” Grandmother replied, as if telling me a coded message.
    I took the hint and sighed, trying to clear my head. “Well,” I smiled, changing the subject, “the place looks great. Did you say Stan keeps it up for you? He does a great –”
    “Stan? Let me tell you something about Stan!” Before I could blink, Grandmother launched into another tirade. “I’ve told him to finish school so he can make something of himself. I told him what he needs to do. I’ve offered to help with his reading. If he doesn’t get some schooling, well,” she huffed, “I don’t know what will become of him. You can only be a pizza delivery boy for so long. He needs to go to school and learn a trade. I can tell you what I’m not going to do: I’m not going to be the one responsible for him.”
    I had had enough. Without her knowing, I clenched my fist under the table. “Grandma,” I coldly stated, “Stan is mentally retarded. It’s not his fault.”
    “ I’m well aware of that. Doesn’t mean Stan can go around life looking for a handout,” she retorted. At least she now addressed Stan as a person.
    “There’s a limit to his understanding, his comprehension. Can you imagine what it’s like to read something and not only not understand it, but forget whatever you’ve read? Believe me, I know. Some of that stuff can be pretty intimidating. And quite frankly, well, I really think he’s embarrassed. I think he knows he’ll have to break his back and work hard for the rest of his life. I – I …” I stammered, “I don’t know him very well, but … Stan’s … well, he’s too proud to admit it.”
    Grandmother’s eyes flashed. “You don’t know a thing about him – or anyone else, for that matter! Like I said, if you don’t know what you’re talking about, then you should keep your trap shut.” She paused for a moment as if for effect. “Besides, he needs to be humbled a peg or two.”
    My emotions began to swallow me up. Even though the person in front of me was my relative, an elder whom I respected, I truly detested her vindictiveness. Before I said anything, though, I excused myself to the bathroom, where I splashed cool water on my face. Taking a rare look at myself in the mirror, I saw my eyes were still red from the spine-numbing ride of