Good Wayne

Thursday, February 26, 2004

Tales From the Front

Yesterday something genuinely spooky happened.

I went outside to start the car before I leave. It gives a few minutes to warm up. One really nice feature of the new Marquis is this automatic temperature sensor. You set the temp you want, like 78 degrees and hit the Automatic button. Then, as the car starts to warm up, the blower comes on and either will heat up the car or cool it down, depending on the outside temp.

Nice.

The old car didn't do that, but it had a remote starter, so as long as I left the blower on and the temp up, when I started the car from the house, it would warm up on it's own. I've been meaning to get one for this car, because a remote starter will really spoil you. I mean, it's like TiVo (which I will not get into here), once you've had it, you really can't go back.

So, to compensate, I've been going out and starting the car and it takes me about 15 seconds.

I also have this other habit of disconnecting my house keys from my car keys.

I think it probably stems from this innate distrust for general humanity. I think, I've started my car and left it unlocked with the keys in it. If someone comes along and thinks they've just stumbled across a free, and warm car, then I certainly don't want them absconding with my house keys as well. It would be a big enough hassle working out the whole stolen car report, insurance nightmare (because you know they won't cover *that* mess) without having to worry about whether or not I need to change the locks on the house as well.

So, I leave the house keys on the table, right next to the cell phone because I grab them on my way out the door with the boy in tow.

It's a ritual, and it's stupid.

Piecing it together afterwards, I figure the boy followed me up the stairs a few seconds after me. I jumped out to start the car about 8 feet away. I actually didn't notice that he had come up, until I got back to the door, a whole 5 seconds later.

He must have come up the stairs and headed to the sunroom. The outside door, when fully open, blocks the way to the sunroom, so he did what he needed to do and moved the door.

This didn't actually close the door on me. No, that was saved for my own stupidity.

I noticed the door and it worried me at the moment, but I could see it wasn't completely closed. Then, because it was only a microsecond after that thought, I quickly opened the screen door to open the main door.

Nature abhors a vacuum. Did you know this? In this case, my own personal nature-hating, abhorrent vacuum was created when I rushed open the screen door. It sucked the air out of the threshold between the two doors and the pressure behind the main door slammed it shut.

My heart dropped.

I quickly tried the door and it was locked. Fuck! I wrestled with it, hoping that maybe it was just going to open, but it steadfastly refused to become a magical lock and open under my cursing.

I then employed the boy to try to open the door. Finn has managed to open some of the doors about the house. He reaches up and puts a hand over the top and then sort of uses the rest of his body to turn the lock in a weird dead-weighted pulley system. I got him to try, but the main door is heavier, the knob has to turn much further to open than he could move it.

I kept at, "Come on, boy, open the door. Let Daddy in. Come on boy, try harder."

He gave up. I tried to get him to operate the locking mechanism, one of those inner pinch pieces. He had no idea what I was talking about. He laughed and wandered off into the sunroom to play with the Fisher Price piano.

I was starting to panic. I had no keys and no phone to call Tine. I looked behind me. At least one of the neighbor's was home.

I had the boy in the window and he was trying to see why I was standing outside without a coat. At least the sun was coming out.

I tapped a few times on the window to get his attention and then I ran across the street. He was watching me the entire time, which was what I wanted. I rang the bell and Mary answered. I quickly explained and that I needed to use her phone.

She was oddly calm about the whole thing. Oh it happens, I thought I heard her say. Funky, now that I think about it. He's 2. She even commented on him only being two. That's really odd now that I think of it.

I called Tine's cell, but it was off. OFF?!? Criminey, why the hell do we have cell phones? I hung up and called her work and got her machine. I think I might have yelled.

"Get home, Finn locked me outside. He's inside. No keys, no phone. COME HOME."

I thanked Mary and ran back over to the boy in the window. He was still playing in the sunroom. Now the real problem is waiting for Tine to get to work and then hearing the message and getting her butt back home. I'm looking at a half hour. *Damnit*.

I tried to get the boy to open the door again. I had hoped that, in some way he would accidentally open it for me. He came over and gave it another try, but I could see he was losing interest in this game of twist the knob. I put my weight against the door just in case it popped open for a second. I wouldn't want to loose any chance of getting in, no matter how small.

He looked up at me with the "I Don't Want to Do This Anymore" and casually walked back into the sunroom. I tried to play with him at the window.

Suddenly, he looked up at me and said, "What's that?"

I looked around, "What?"

"What's that?" He repeated and he said something else. Then he pointed towards the downstairs. "Phone?" he said in his own way.

Crap, I thought, Tine's calling me on the phone. What the hell, didn't she hear me that I said I didn't have a phone? Then I thought that she probably only heard the I was locked out. Wait, that didn't make any sense. Why would I be able to answer the house phone? She must be confused and is calling to ... Actually, I have no idea why she would call.

Just come home, I think.

But now I have a slight other problem. Finn is still pointing downstairs. The phone has stopped ringing, but he still wants me to investigate the phone situation. He starts walking to the hallway.

"No, no Finn, Let's play up here, " I say. Repeatedly. "Come on, boy."

But he keeps moving to the stairs.

"Look!" I shout excitedly, and point to a place in the sunroom where he would have to go to see. "Look at that!"

He looks up at me, quizzically, "What?"

"Over there! Go see!"

He forgets the stairs and heads back to see whatever amazing thing I've discovered. He walks around a bit and then comes up to the side window, his hands up to his shoulders, palms out, "What?"

"Hey," I said. Then I step down and hide behind the curtain. He pulls the curtain away and I jump back. Now it's a game. And I move down the outside of the sunroom, trying to stay behind the curtains as he pulls them away to find me.

Great, I think. If she can get here soon, everything will be just fine. We do this for awhile. He goes off and plays with something and then comes back to the window every now and then.

At one point, he grabs the broom and starts sweeping. I'd rather he do something else, mostly because the broom is unwieldy for him, but I can't really do anything out here. My worry is if he falls or bumps himself I won't be able to pick him up.

Then he moves back towards the hallway. "No," I said sternly. And he looks at me and moves back into the sunroom. Then he drops the broom and walks back to the hallway. I move down to the window and tap on it until he comes over. And we play hide and seek with the curtains again.

Although I'm a little cold without my jacket, the sun is coming out from behind the houses. And this causes yet another problem. The sun is directly in Finn's face. Now he doesn't want to play by the window anymore. He pushes the curtain around a bit, but he done and he off again.

I try in vain to bring him back to the window. He moves to the hallway yet again, and I'm at the door. He wants to go downstairs. I implore him to try the door yet again, but he really, really doesn't want to. He stops at the very top of the stairs and edges forward, looking at me like he knows he shouldn't but if he keeps slinking, ever-so-slowly forward, I somehow might not notice.

There's a dilemma here. He's still up at the edge of the stairs. If try to forbid him, he'll continue to slink forward. But he's only keeping a baby half-eye on the edge. He's more focused on me telling him no. He could easily fall down the few stairs there are. But if I don't say anything, he'll be off downstairs where I can't see him at all.

I decide to stop telling him, no and see what he does.

Of course, he slowly works his way down the stairs. As he turns around and sits to climb down, I keep talking to him. Ask him to open the door again. But he starts giving me a very matter-of-a-factly "No." Like I'd asked him if he wasn't more fries or another drink. "No, I'm good."

He keeps looking back at me as he goes down. At the bottom of the stairs he stops and looks back. I ask him to come back up. Play up here with me.

He says something and waves an arm. Then he's gone.

Damnit! I keep trying the door and then I decide I'm going to have to break the window. I turn to go find a rock to smash one of the smaller panes and get my hand in there on the lock. As I literally turn, Tine comes flying around the corner. I kid you not. She whips into the driveway and I jaunt down to meet her as she almost vaults out of the car. I notice she doesn't even have her jacket on and she's clearly upset. She almost throws her keys at me and we both burst through the door and rush downstairs, calling the boy.

In the living room, he's on the edge of the couch, having turned the TV on and is watching PBS (I have no idea what). He looks at us and then points to the TV, again casually in a way that might say, hey, I found this really neat puppet show, you should check it out. I haven't a clue what he might have said or what Tine said. She runs to him and pull him up and hugs him as she starts to cry out of relief. She then tells me that she got into work, took her jacket off, heard the message and bolt out the door tell her coworker to call to tell me she's on her way. You're not really rational when you think there's real trouble. But it's okay, and I'm sure the boy has no idea it ever even happened now.

And there's no way I'm every going outside without my keys again.

posted by Evil Wayne | 1:04 PM

0 comments 0 Comments: