ON BEYOND BULLOCKS
Anne Reilly Dumas

Ruby poured herself a cup of Earl Grey Tea and settled in the old mahogeny chair to re-read the letter from her sister. She leaned her cane against the bookcase and unfolded the paper. The flowered stationery shook slightly in the late morning light as she read.

Dear Ruby, March 22, 1996

We are all fine here in McKinleyville. We have a sunny day today after a week of rain. We heard of the assaults in your area of L.A. and were so worried for you. It was good of you to call and re-assure us of your safety. But really, Ruby, you are all alone down there! And times are changing. We know you love your apartment, your friends and the Ladies' Circle, but please consider again moving up here! We have plenty of space. My grand daughter, Amy, has an extra bedroom, bath and sitting room she has offered for your use. Tom and Sam can come help you pack and drive you up in Tom's truck. The family would be complete if you were here. I am selfish too. Two old ladies would be better up here than one!

Love, your "little" sis, Pearl

Ruby looked for a long time at her sister's swooping and elegant penmanship.

It was a subject Pearl had excelled in in school, oh so long ago now - 1920 perhaps? She sighed and sipped her tea. It was a near perfect day, the sun streaming down onto the old braided rug. She let her eyes and thoughts roam the rooms where she had spent forty years of her life. Most of the furnishing had been her mothers - the heavy oak armoire in the bedroom, the Morris chair across the sitting room by the front windows. The piano on the stairwell wall was the one her mother had practiced on as a child. It had yellowed ivory keys and candle holders on either side. Ruby herself had bought the Blue Willow dishes plate by plate and cup by cup during the Depression. A monthly treat for herself, Ruby thought, to help what seemed then like a hopeless life. But things had never got too bad. She had kept her accounting job at the oil company, when hundreds had nothing. She had been able to help the Driscoll family through the economic storm of the thirties. It had meant staying at home, not marrying her beau, Richard, and caring for her, by then, ailing parents. But at least she had helped Pearl have a chance at love. And Pearl had a wonderful family. Wonderful now too, even to offer Ruby a new home. But after forty years? To "start over" it seemed such a hill to climb. Ruby sighed again, sipped and set down the Blue Willow cup on its saucer.

The phone on the stand next to her chair rang. Startled back to the moment, Ruby cleared her throat and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Ruby, this is Mildred."

"Mildred, how are you doing? How are your legs?"

"Well, some days they're better than others. My son, Rob, is helping me move to Mary Crest Manor today."

Ruby nodded and listened to Mildred's long discription of her preparations. She felt very tired suddenly. Outside a cloud had drifted to block the sun. The room's light dimmed and Mildred talked on.

After a light lunch of tomato aspec, a slice of Spam and toast, Ruby pulled her two canvas shopping bags from the entry hall closet. It was Monday, her day to go to Vons Supermarket two blocks away. She took her hat from the peg by the mirror and pinned it to her thin hair on either side. She pulled on her light overcoat, wearing it mainly to protect her dress. Into one bag, she put her small purse, into the other her finished library book, a Barbara Kingsolver novel. She turned to the stairwell. Her apartment was on the second floor. The stairs were wooden and very steep. On the railing was a wooden knob. She grasped it and slid it back to unlatch the door down below. Carefully one slow step at a time she decended. At the door, she turned another latch to throw back the bolt, and opened the heavy oak door.

All the noise, sounds and smells of Los Angeles seemed to tumble inside.

A skinny black man in filthy pants that must've been white at one time, went by pushing a rickety shopping cart. His hair was tangled with leaves and dried grass. He shouted out obsenities at a passing Chevy. Ruby mentally closed her ears against his tirade. Even louder now, he tipped back his head and hollered,

"Are you prepared!? He is here!!! Are you ready!?"

Ruby locked her two locks on the apartment door and adjusted the handles of her bags before turniong around. The man rattled off. Ruby began walking away up the old cracked sidewalk.

To her right a high concrete overpass carried transition traffic from the Harbor to the Santa Monica Freeways. She had watched it being build thirty years before. The sound of rolling tires swelled and ebbed like ocean waves.

This trip to the store, newsstand and library had recently gotten longer, it seemed to her. At one time, she had enjoyed this walk. Sometimes Mildred had walked with her. They had seen old friends along the way and at the market. Once a month they'd detour to shop at Bullocks. But in the last ten years, no in the last three years, things had changed. Bullocks was long since closed, now Mildred was moving into a Home. Ruby ventured out of her apartment only twice a week now, on Mondays to do her errands and on Thursdays, the girls picked her up to go to the Ladies' Circle luncheon.

The store was not crowded on Mondays. This day, there were the young Hispanic mothers and the usual scattering of white haired seniors. Ruby pushed her cart to the left most aisle and began with the bread. Then she moved slowly and methodically up and down the familiar rows. She collected one loaf of whole wheat bread, one can of fruit cocktail, a box of dried soup mix, a jar of applesauce, two packages of luncheon meat, one can of Spam, a bag of frozen peas, a small bag of fresh carrots, four oranges and a new package of Earl Grey tea. At the checkout counter, she picked out two candy bars. These days she had to watch what she bought. It was heavy enough as it was and she had two more stops to make.

These days, people moved so fast, she was thinking. The box boy held her packed canvas bags out to her before she had her change back in her purse. Two preschoolers tried to tag each other around the metal rails and the large woman behind her seemed to push Ruby along out of the line. No one was smiling except for the laughing children. Was everyone's life these days such a trial?

Outside, a youngish man and woman held out their hands as she passed.

"Spare some change?" They repeated. And again to the elderly man who also passed them by. Maybe life now was getting to be like the thirties all over again, except that there were so many cars and so many more things to desire. Ruby, stepped carefully through the parking lot and on up the sidewalk to the newsstand.

She looked over this week's offering finally selecting Newsweek and the new McCalls. She tucked them into her bag next to her purse. Before she set off to the library, she looked carefully around her. It had become a habit to be always aware of the people and traffic. As things speeded up, it had become even more important she thought. I must not loose control. I must see if trouble is coming and be ready to step out of the way. The way was clear, the light was green and she crossed to the low red brick building of her branch library.

Every time she came in here, she thought of Mildred. Mildred had been the branch librarian here, since before Ruby had moved to her apartment. Even though she had been retired fifteen years, this branch reminded Ruby of her. Today, Ruby turned in her book and went to the new book display. Nothing of current interest in non-fiction, but there was a new Tony Hillerman novel in the mystery section. She carried it to the check out counter. Even though Ruby had never worked in a library, she missed the rhythm of way books used to be checked out. They'd put her card and the book card under the big camera and hit a series of buttons. Buzz/click/click clak, it went, buzz/click/click clak. Now some bored-looking young person pulled out a pen like thing with a red light on the end and moved it over the zebra striped sticker on the book. Everything now seemed to have those stickers, even magazines had them printed on their covers. Everything was a number. Her library card had a sticker too. In the next moment, she had pushed that unpleasant consideration from her thoughts. If she let every little new unpleasant thing bother her too much, she'd have to be carted off to Bedlam.

She headed homeward at last. Nearly three hours had gone by and Ruby was very tired. As she walked she began to get that feeling again. It was just in the past few months she'd been aware of it. She felt like she was slowly falling forward. In the middle of the sidewalk, she stopped to catch her breath. She knew if she just got more exercise, she would be able to walk farther with no problems, but she just didn't feel safe going out more than once a week. There was just too much to worry about. She started walking again.

Now she had only half a block to go. Oh, what relief, another ten minutes and she'd be back in her own apartment. Across the street two Spanish speaking men tinkered with an old Ford truck. They reved the engine sending up a cloud of blue exhaust. Just then, a teenager who looked like he should be in school sped past her on a skateboard. Though he swirved around her on her right, his hand hit her bag as he passed. It was just enough to swing it forward. Ruby knew she was falling and could only watch it happen. She tried to remember how to fall and not get hurt. The bags landed on the sidewalk in front of her somehow and cushioned her impact. She just repeated "Oh, oh!!" as she landed and rolled over to face the sky. She lay still for a long moment. She wiggled her toes and then her fingers. Things seemed to be working alright. Slowly, she turned her head to help her see, and to figure out a way to get back up. There in the dusty gutter lay the new library book, the pages being turned one by one by the breeze. Then a face appeared looking down at her, and another. It was the two men from the truck.

"Señora, ok?" One asked. Then he helped her sit up. Ruby looked at her legs and feet with their torn stockings and scraped shoe polish.

"OK?" he asked again. Ruby nodded and they both helped her to her feet. She was shaking inside from the surprise of it all, but she felt stable enough. The second man quickly collected all her things.

"My purse!" Ruby exclaimed. He held out her bags and she looked inside. There it was. Everything was there, even the book. Gently they walked her to her door. They put her bags down. One removed his hat.

"Ok?" He didn't speak English, she guessed, and she didn't speak Spanish, except for one word.

"Gracias, gracias." She said and smiled sincerely. They bowed and smiled and walked back to their truck. She got her key from her purse. The shaking was so bad she had a hard time turning the bolts.

Finally, she was in. She set her bags on the first stair step and locked the door. Inside the quietness soothed her. Ever so slowly, she climbed the eighteen steps to her entry hall. She hung up her hat and coat, then carried the bags to the kitchen. She wanted so badly just to go lay down. Or to draw a warm bath and sit in it for an hour. But she made herself put everything away as she usually did, as if this day had been as uneventful as the rest of her forty years here on the second floor of this century old quadraplex on Oak street. But it was not. She wanted to cry from the loneliness that suddenly welled up around her. She wanted to walk to the park with Mildred and feed the birds, to go to the Paradise theatre and see Gene Kelly in his latest movie. She wanted the familiar returned.

Already, the soreness of the fall was pulling at her legs. She would take that warm bath. But first she pulled down the door to the secretary desk and drew out a sheet of writing paper. From the narrow drawer, she got out her fountain pen. She began to write:

Dear Pearl,

It was good to hear from you so soon after your last letter. I do miss you all. Thank you again for your kind invitation. Yes, I will finally accept it. I am only sorry I did not accept it sooner. It will be hard to start over at my age, but better late than never! If Amy really doesn't mind my moving in with her, I will be very glad to do so.

Call me as soon as you get this letter. I will begin packing tomorrow.

All my love,

Ruby