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Showing posts with label community action. Show all posts
Showing posts with label community action. Show all posts

Saturday, May 9, 2015

Cara Mia Delgatto and the Bye-Bye Birdie, Part 17

Note: We've had so much fun with serialized stories that I'm trying my hand at one again! Here's the next installment of a new adventure for Cara Mia Delgatto and her friends. To read Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, and 16 scroll to the bottom of the blog where it says OLDER POSTS.

Before he took off, Salazar made one last attempt to save his bacon. "Mr. Boehner, I was only trying to--"

"To squash the human spirit? To make sure that a woman who took initiative was punished for her ingenuity? For her concern for our customers? Or maybe you were trying to set up your nephew in Ms. Morgan's job? Whatever you were trying to do, I'm not interested in you doing it on my dime. Now please leave, Jose. I don't want to have to tell you again." With that, Jay Boehner put a hand on Freddie's shoulder and asked, "Are you ready to get back to fixing that palm tree? We have a lot more to do before the sun goes down."



At five, a food truck showed up. It was white with lettering that announced, "TACOS," and a zesty, colorful image on one side that beckoned our hungry crew. Later I would learn that Boehner had mysteriously located the owner and asked him to come and serve all the volunteers dinner. Mr. Boehner picked up the tag, but we didn't know that until we got ready to pay. The fragrant mixture of cumin, peppers, and onions made my mouth water. The tacos and burritos proved themselves as good as their smell had promised. Greta and Freddie made a drinks run and came back with cold cans of soda, lemonade, and bottles of water.

When the sun finally started sinking around seven-thirty, there wasn't much left to finish. Where once mud stretched on and on, the residents now looked out at a gazebo. In the far right hand corner sat tiny marked rows of a vegetable garden. Fig trees formed a backdrop, as did a few lime, lemon, and orange trees. To the left trickled a water feature that emptied into a shallow basin. If you traced a triangle around the gazebo, you could pinpoint the locations of three huge bird cages. Flight cages, I think they're called. Kookie's cage was snuggled up against the window of Helen's room. Once or twice during the long work day, I saw a pale face rise and stare out at us, as Helen took notice of our efforts. Kookie had been surprisingly quiet throughout the hustle and bustle. Skye went to his cage several times, offering him grapes and tidbits. He took them and promptly dropped them to the floor of his home.

I had to hand it to Cooper, because he'd worked with his landscaping buddies to insure that the majority of the plants were heat, fungus, white fly,and mold resistant. Although a sprinkler system had been installed, most of the plants would be fine without help once they'd put down roots. Cooper had also worked with his people to keep the walkways accessible for those whose mobility was impaired. He'd thoughtfully installed lights along the edges so the space could be enjoyed in the evening.

Our customers had played their part, too. Because Sid had checked with Cooper early on, we'd asked that they bring plants that would flourish such as penta, periwinkles, hibiscus, Mexican heather, and bougainvillea. While I'd given out a healthy number of discount vouchers, I figured that I'd break even because a lot of people were introduced to my store because of our good works. 

James "Jay" Boehner walked up to people, shook their hands, and personally thanked them for their help. He was deep in conversation with Cooper when my employees and I decided we'd had enough for one day. I went to find Greta to tell her we were leaving. She was ready to go home, too. The assistant administrator promised to make sure the grounds were vacated, and all the volunteers were thanked and sent home. Since he'd come in at three, he was still energetic. Greta looked as exhausted as I felt. 

Freddie had proved himself to be a charming young man. He was lavish with his affection for his mother. By the time we were ready to call it a day, he'd worked his backside off--as had we all. "I'm going to drive him back to his residence," said Greta, giving me a hug. "I can't thank you and your friends enough for all you've done. I'd like to have a public open house next month so I can properly honor you and all the volunteers. Will you promise to attend?"

"Of course. But we want you and Freddie to stand over here, please." After I arranged them next to us and grabbed a passer-by, we all posed for a photo. Once the mother and son left, MJ, Skye, Poppy, Sid, Honora, EveLynn, and I posed for a selfie that I planned to add to our website. I was sending the picture to my email account when Greta came trotting back. "I forgot to tell you that Helen seems better. It can't possibly last, but I think her spirits were much cheered by the activity."

While I was grateful to hear the good news, I was so tired I could barely stand up. So I gave Greta another filthy hug. My friends and I fairly wobbled to our cars. 

~ To Be Continued ~

Well, dear hearts. We're almost done. But wait...I know you want to hear what happens next. And I want to know too, so there's ONE more installment. I'm saving it for Mother's Day! Hugs and kisses-- j

Monday, May 4, 2015

Cara Mia Delgatto and the Bye-Bye Birdie, Part 12

Note: We've had so much fun with serialized stories that I'm trying my hand at one again! Here's the next installment of a new adventure for Cara Mia Delgatto and her friends. To read Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and 11 scroll to the bottom of the blog where it says OLDER POSTS.


Greta was drying her eyes when Poppy wandered in, making his way past the other tables, greeting diners and shaking hands. Since the closing of my grandfather's gas station and bait shop, he's been at loose ends. Normally a workaholic, Poppy doesn't know what to do with himself.

"Granddaughter? Have you made this poor woman cry?"

Trust Poppy to draw attention when I was hoping he'd let a tough situation slide.

Pulling him next to me in the booth, I shushed him. Then Skye and I tried to explain what had happened with Helen Berger and her cockatoo.

"I know Helen," said my grandfather. "Used to bring her car in all the time to have it serviced. Nice woman. How come she can't have that there pet of hers in your facility?"

Greta explained about the health department. Poppy, to my surprise, listened carefully. "But them birds don't need to be kept indoors. So what are you on about?"

All three of us women blinked at each other. Finally, I broke the silence. "Come again? What do you mean, Poppy?"

At that moment, Honora joined us. "I saw Dick walk in. EveLynn just dropped me off, so I hope I'm not intruding?"

Of course, Skye and I had explained to her and MJ why we had come back without the bird. They met Greta as she picked up Kookie's gear. Honora had been quietly emotional when we told her about the reunion between Kookie and Helen. To accommodate our newcomers, Greta scooted over so Honora could sit beside her, while Poppy dragged over a chair. It didn't take long to get them up to speed with an explanation about Mr. Salazar, his threats, and the Health Department.

Poppy took over from there. "Don't none of you remember Parrot Jungle? That place outside of Miami? It was a bird sanctuary, of sorts. You could pay your entrance fee to walk around and look at the birds. Cara, didn't your parents take you there when you was young?"

A vague memory gathered form and substance. "Tiki huts. Coconut thatch roofs. Big cages, A winding sidewalk. Shows. They did shows, didn't they? The handlers brought out the birds so they could do tricks."

"That's right," my grandfather nodded encouragingly. "They done moved that whole shooting match to an island. Now they call it Jungle Island, 'cause it's more than birds. Suppos'd to look like the Everglades. Point being, that bird don't need to be inside. Exceptin' in really bad weather maybe. If you put it right outside her window, Helen could enjoy Kookie and the Health Department cain't say a word about that."

Honora's mouth trembled. "Dick, dear, I don't think you know the full story. There is no landscaping at Martin Gardens. None. For someone to service Kookie's cage--clean it, change his water, and whatnot--they'd have to wade through mud and weeds."

That prompted an explanation of the financial dilemma faced by Mr. Boehner. My grandfather impressed me by listening carefully. As he stroked his chin, Greta rooted around in her purse. "I actually have with me a brochure that illustrates what the finished landscaping would have looked like."

Poppy squinted at the image. "You got the plans?"

"Yes, of course. They're in my desk back at work."

"Shoot-fire. What are we waiting for? Alls we need to do is grab ourselves a half dozen railroad ties, gravel, paving stones and concrete. Then we pour the walkways. Once you got them down, half the battle's won. Seems to me, you're talking about getting through the muck, right? That can be tough when you're using one of them walker do-jobbies."

"Who's going to pay for all this?" I asked.

Poppy leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at me. "Ain't you your father's daughter? Good old Thomas Delgatto wouldn't have set still for this kinda nonsense. He'd a found a way to get it done. Tell you what. There's more'n a handful of people in this town who owe me favors. I'll see what I can round up. You, Granddaughter, need to visit that friend of your'n whose an architect. Dollars to donuts, he's got extra supplies he can write off. Laborers? What about that young man whose been squiring you around town? The project manager? Bet he could spare a warm body or two."

"We could do a fundraiser at the store," said Skye, as her eyes snapped with energy. "Bring in a flower, and you get to draw a discount from a jar. Wouldn't that help?"

Honora nodded. "I can contact all the clubs I belong to. Maybe if each club would buy a shrub--"

"That rhymes," giggled Skye.

Honora nodded, "Then we'd be most of the way along to doing the landscaping."

"Make it so," said my grandfather, winking at me. When my jaw dropped, he added, "Sid introduced me to Jean Luc Piccard. I been missing Star Trek!"

~ To Be Continued ~

Author's Note: Of course, just because our friends have come up with a solution doesn't mean the problem will go away. Not hardly!

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