Deino, Enyo, and Pemphredo
Chapter 15
Deino, Enyo, and Pemphredo
The family Manor was a Spanish style late nineteenth century home with white stucco, and ruby red gables. Nom's grandfather had over the long years carefully nursed the yards into a wooded Eden. Every corner was a sanctuary to some rare flower or shrub. The house sat on a quadruple lot, on the corner of a majestic suburban block, surrounded by similar houses.
Family legend held that the house had been built by the same engineer that had built the Model-T factory for Henry Ford. In many ways the house had a mystical, almost unearthly, feel to it. The back yard was surrounded by resplendent pines, oaks, chestnuts, and two of the last American elm trees left in the city. In the middle ran a stream and koi pond, which provided the only sound. The trees formed an impenetrable noise boundary. The front of the house was shielded by a tall hedge towered over by hemlock and beach trees. A narrow driveway lined with cemented river rocks ran on the left front side of the lot. They were prone to popping the tires of the uninitiated. Above it all towered a five story maple. Every few years the driveway had to be redone when the tree decided to stretch its roots a bit.
As Nom parked, he observed that it would have to be done again in the next year or so. A bit of a speed bump was forming. When that happened, the water drainage was destroyed, and the basement would start flooding again.
By the lack of other cars in the driveway, Nom knew that he was the first to arrive. This was not much of a surprise. Most of the family wouldn't arrive until around seven. Nom's grandfather had retired after the death of his wife. Long years of working in a hospital had put the family in the habit of waiting until he got home from work each day. Back in his prime, that had often been as late as nine in the evening. In his later years, that time had crept a bit earlier, so that he could sneak home early to check on his ailing wife.
After Nom had moved away, an elder care company had been hired. Three or four times a day they sent over an aid to check in on things. With luck, the old man would still manage to die in his home. But from the look of the house, it was rapidly falling apart in his dotage. The stucco was pealing, and the painted gables were flaking. From a glance, the roof and chimney all needed work, yet it had only been three and a half years since Nom had left. Since the aid was not there, aunt Eriena must have been in a good enough mood to come down and begin making dinner. The aid would not have left this early otherwise.
It was currently only four in the afternoon. Since it was late summer, the odds were on Nom's grandfather being in his study working on matters of state or in his garden. From the smells and sounds coming from the kitchen window his aunt Eriena was in there preparing for dinner. She may have been mentally challenged, but her mother had made her a master of the kitchen.
She was the sole keeper of the sacred dishes of the family. Nom was convinced his grandmother conspired to teach them only to her, and had never written them down on purpose. Eriena was sworn to secrecy to protect them from all others. She could neither read nor write. They would, in all likelihood, die with her, but, so long as she was the only one who could make them, she had a meaning and purpose in the family.
Nom went in and performed the sacred family tradition by greeting the first person he could find, then inspecting the kitchen for what could be snitched. Apparently, Eriena had made Konigsberger Klopse the night before. A treat like that would normally have been eaten by the family for lunch if there had been any leftovers. Since it was Friday, Eriena and her father had not touched them. Fortunately for Nom, he was not a Catholic. He topped off a small bowl with spätzle and the klopse.
Eriena had declined a bit since he had seen her last six months before. She had a tendency to be depressed about her condition and lack of achievement when compared to her siblings. When her nephews and nieces started to surpass her as well she had actually gone catatonic for almost a month.
She had gained more weight Nom noticed. He had to help her up out of the chair she had wedged herself into while stewing beets. Nom was half convinced that had he not arrived she would have sat, stuck in that chair until someone did arrive.
He took half an hour to pump her for news. It always made her feel a bit better to come off as in the know. No member of the family relied on her as a source of information, unless they were using her as a pawn in in one of the family political games. She had no understanding of the daily events around her and was prone to extreme emotional outbursts. Still it made her feel good, and it was always nice to see her smile with confidence.
All his cousins had cherished her when they were kids. She was their access to the adult world. If their parents would not let them go out and do something, no worries. Eri would take them. If they were grounded and spending a day suspended from school at the Manor why not go to the arcade, pool, zoo, or mall? Eriena could not drive, but she would let you sit on the back of her tandem bike. Then she would take them anywhere they wanted. Now in the kitchen it was nice to see her smile as she had in the old days.
Having seen to his aunt, Nom made his way to his grandfather's office. The sounds of a minimalist opera came blasting across the house. Usually a good sign that he was in his office. Was that the vile sound of Nixon in China? Nom popped his head in, but did not see his grandfather.
The man had been going deaf for the last decade or so. His stereo had been upgraded to one designed for Helen Keller listening to Norwegian death metal. Covering his ears Nom took the liberty of sneaking over and turning it off. He had been right. It was Nixon in China. Adams was a composer Nom could never stand. He preferred pieces written in Europe before nineteen-twenty.
His grandfather was in the back yard sleeping by the koi pond, a bag of fish food sat at his feet, and a glass of red wine was on the patio table beside him. Nom went back into the house grabbed himself a glass and went back out. Just as he thought, his grandfather had cracked some of the last Beaujolais from his cellar. Nom poured himself a taste and pulled up a chair. His grandfather had the normal plague of men his age. He snored rather viciously, so much so he would frequently wake himself. Nom sat and waited for a few minutes until the inevitable happened.
Waking to see his grandson, the man smiled and welcomed him. They chatted for a while about most topics under the sun.
Nom had a masters and undergraduate degree in political science while his grandfather was a master politician, ever informed and very well connected. His grandfather was one of the few people who could match him for wit, and broad pool of trivia.
Time flew by, and the bottle emptied. Nom had gotten another. Before he knew it, the sun had fallen behind the trees, and his arch nemesis, Thodigs was walking up the back-yard path. For a moment, Nom wondered if the glare he was receiving was intended to freeze him where he stood or cause him to spontaneously combust.
"Hey, dip shit." Thodigs said to him in greeting. "Drinking my old man out of house and home?" Thodigs picked up the bottle and shook it.
"You know me," Nom said sipping on the dregs. "I study and learn from the best." He said saluting his foe with the glass.
Thodigs pulled up a chair to the table. "So what brings you back? I didn't expect to see you after I heard you dropped out of grad school."
At this Nom's grandfather perked up. There really was only one thing in this world that he valued outside of blood and that was academic credentials.
"Who said I dropped out?" Nom asked.
"You left your job with the state to be a truck driver? How the duce are you still in school if you are a truck driver?" Thodigs chided.
"Last time I checked, I already hold a BA and an MA. What was your alma mater again? Oh that's right, you dropped out of engineering school in your freshman year to become a sheet metal worker." Nom retorted settling back into his chair.
Thodigs was getting rather red in the face. "Just like you've done now!" He bellowed.
"Sorry to disappoint you Thodigs. The world isn't the barren, boring, illiterate, place it was when you dropped out in the eighties. Most universities offer part or all of their curriculums online now. They even come with the same degree whether you set foot on campus or not. I'm still pursuing my second masters; I'm just doing it from a place that lets me avoid your stench on a daily basis."
Nom's grandfather seemed to have scored the point in his favor. "Well…" He said slapping his thigh. "Let's go in and see if Eriena needs help setting the table."
They went into the house the back way, passing through the office and family room to get to the dining room. Eriena had indeed needed help. She was soon liberated of her hard work and placed in the dining room. The table was quickly set and the food laid out. Nom was dispatched to the cellar for some dry Riesling. While he was in the cooler making his selection, he heard the front door open. The familiar sound of Chegaboud and his family coming in filtered down.
For the last several years Thodigs's family had not been showing their faces. Nom's pet theory was that they were too ashamed. It was a pity, since they were the victims, and the criminal Thodigs regularly showed up without any shame.
"How perfect." Nom thought. "Everyone I wanted to show is here. Let the fun begin." He closed the cooler and headed up to the dining room.
The dining room was long and narrow. At one head was a massive china cabinet, at the other, a tall window with glass shelves. Countless awards the grandfather had accumulated over the years had been placed there. In the evening they painted the beige room with a staccato plethora of rainbows.