Out of Work: Mable’S Misadventures

By Xlibris US

This is the story of Mabel Fable who was an orphan and adopted by the Fable family. It traces her life from the time she was four to fifty-years-old. It tells of the unconditional love of her adoptive parents and brother.

Our story starts in Detroit, Michigan and ends in the Los Angeles area. It chronicles her many fowled up romances. Gable Fable, her father, was employed by Ford Motor Car Company in the River Rouge Plant in Dearborn and moved to Whittier, California to escape the deterioration of the Detroit environs.

Mable, the child has a happy youth and is always protected by her brother, Aesop aka Soppy who is two years older.

Through her adult years she has many romantic encounters and disappointments. Once she leaves home she lives with her close friend, Heather, and Heathers aunt, Holly. Aunt Holly is the epitome of good advice that often goes unheeded by our heroine.

Her convoluted romance with Homer Hogarth is a subtheme that reoccurs throughout the story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781503516823

Book preview

Chapter 1

2011: Out of Work

Next! shouted the large African-American lady behind the counter of the US Department of Employment. Hey! Will you turn your big butt around? What’s your name?

Oh, I’m sorry, said Mabel. I’m Mabel Fable. She was exhausted and soaking wet after standing in the long line of the unemployed since 8:00 AM. It was now 4:45 PM. Even though the room was large, it still couldn’t handle the line inside. So Mabel had been outside for the first five hours of her ordeal. Naturally, it would be raining that Friday in January. It never rains in Los Angeles. Ha!

Mabel, the executive manager, accepted her pink slip. She had been employed by Tarsal Foot Pads for the last ten years, but had been laid off just after New Year’s. Tarsal had closed all its US plants and moved its operations to Mexico. Mabel had been offered the chance to move with the company to Mexico at a higher salary. But she did not relish the idea of living and working in a place where murders and decapitations had become the norm. So she opted for the federal handout.

Hey, get with it. I need your driver’s license and Social Security number. We’ve got fifteen minutes left. Get the lead out, or you’ll be standing in line again tomorrow, bellowed the impatient clerk.

Flustered and embarrassed, Mabel dropped her purse, and all the stuff that women’s purses contain scattered on the tiled floor. Luckily, Mabel was a slight lady, so the bending over and picking up all the credit cards, lipsticks, Kleenexes, ballpoints, car keys, and whatever did not take long and was not a terminal physical challenge.

After dumping all her stuff back into the purse, Mabel plopped her driver’s license and Social Security card on the counter between the computer monitor, mouse pad, pen- and pencil-filled coffee cup, stapler, two boxes of paperclips, and a mass of loose papers and memo pads. The lady grabbed them and took them over to make copies. Actually moving with some haste because it was getting so close to quitting time, she brought over the copies with other documents for Mabel to sign.

It took about five minutes for her to complete the necessary forms. The clerk was smiling for a change. Ms. Fable, you’ll be getting a $412.50 check in the mail every week for the rest of this year. You need to come by once a month to complete a form that indicates what efforts you have made to obtain employment. And at the first of next year you simply come in for an extension of your benefits. This will continue to the end of the year or until the government goes broke. You’ll get a complete rundown with your first check, and if you have questions, please feel free to call us.

Mabel walked out just as the doors were being locked. There was no line left. It was still raining.

CHAPTER 2

1950s

Gable Fable never went to college. He was born in Detroit, Michigan, on January 18, 1936, at the Henry Ford Hospital. It had been a hard birth for his mother, Athena, who was a small, petite woman who had put on fifty pounds during her pregnancy. His father, Icarus, was a hard-working motor mechanic at the River Rouge assembly plant in nearby Dearborn.

Gable was an only child and was the apple of his dad’s eye. Icarus had a small workshop in the garage in back of his small two-bedroom frame house in Romulus. He spent hours watching his dad make things out of wood and sheet metal. By the time he was twelve, he could run a wood-shaping lathe, operate a drill press, shape and finish sheet metal brackets and fasteners, and read blueprints. He was the top student in the metal shop at Romulus Middle School.

Icarus and Athena were Catholics and wanted to send Gable to St. Aloysius, but the tuition was beyond their means even though Icarus was earning reasonable wages. He had monthly union dues, pension savings, and a small mortgage, which left him living paycheck to paycheck. Gable was relegated to Romulus High School. This was OK with Gable, because most of his friends went to the public school as well. There were no millionaires in Romulus at this time.

Gable graduated in the middle of his class in 1954, but he did get a special achievement award for his work in metal shop and foundry.

The Korean stalemate had ended. Icarus had had a deferment because he was a foreman at River Rouge, which had been making parts for tanks and other motorized combat vehicles. Gable would wander over to the plant and watch the workers at the assembly line utilizing huge pieces of equipment like toys. It was amazing, and he loved it.

Gable had been dating Sable Beaver, a high school classmate, and getting very serious. Sable was petite, slender, had ivory skin, and hair that matched her name. She was beautiful, and he was smitten. He had been living at home and helping out financially by working little odd jobs while going to school. Helping his parents at home and his crush on Sable were presenting him with a dilemma—college or no college. His love for mechanics and Sable won, and so he went to work at River Rouge.

CHAPTER 3

1960s

It was now 1960. Gable had weaned himself from living with his parents, rented an apartment near the factory, but was looking for a house. He had finally proposed to Sable, who wholeheartedly accepted the half-carat square-cut diamond ring from Kay Jewelers in Dearborn.

Sable Beaver’s family was immense. She had a brother and a sister. But her mother, Bess, was one of seven; and her father, Edgar, one of six. Luckily for Gable and his parents, the Beavers were rich, so the bride’s parents could easily foot the bill, which was the appropriate protocol. There was no friction as far as the church selection was concerned since both the Fables and the Beavers were Catholic. The two families hit it off right from the start.

St. Aloysius in downtown Detroit was the unanimous pick. They all liked the size of the facilities, even though the area around the church was the living quarters for lots of the Detroit homeless. However, St. Al’s was the beacon of hope for the downtrodden blacks and whites, and welcomed the possibility of an abundance of financial support.

The wedding was grandiose with six bridesmaids, six ushers, a maid of honor, a best man, a flower girl, and Sable Beaver’s cousin’s four-year-old boy as ring bearer. It was a high mass with the usual stand-ups and sit-downs, a monotonic sermon, and the exultant exodus for the open air. The reception was outdoors, with an open bar, a small combo, lots of food, and the seven-tiered wedding cake. The newlywed Fables took off for their honeymoon in an open Fairlane convertible covered with rice and with the usual beer cans streaming on the pavement from the bumper. They were gone for a week at the Iroquois Hotel in Mackinac Island.

Sable and Gable bought a three-bedroom one-story frame house of 1930s vintage near his folks in Romulus. Gable was now earning a good wage thanks to the UAW, and Sable was supplementing it with a part-time job at a gift shop. So they did an almost complete remodel, especially the kitchen and the bathroom. They had a two-car garage in the back with a workroom on the side that Gable could use for his hobbies. Life was good!

Sable and Gable were married on June 1, 1960, had their honeymoon, and along came Aesop on March 2, 1961. Athena and Icarus were grandparents, who like all new grandparents went completely nuts. The Beavers were also exulted, but a little more sedate, because Aesop was their seventh grandchild.

Aesop was a gorgeous baby with a full head of red hair. He was very strong for a seven-and-a-half-pound tyke with a powerful piercing yowl. He is going to be a big, strong man like Icarus and me, thought Gable with pride.

CHAPTER 4

Adoption?

Aesop was growing up in a loving family with doting grandparents, especially Icarus. It was the 1960s, a decade punctuated with the hippie movement, John Kennedy’s assassination, the Cold War, the Vietnam War, and rampant union strikes. Gable’s job was safe; he had been promoted to expeditor for the assembly line, which exempted him from the unpopular draft. Sable was having female troubles, and was told that she probably would never be able to have another child.

Sable was thirty-one years old. Aesop was six. His granddad and dad had spoiled him rotten. He was enrolled in Gesu Catholic School in the nearby university district. He was a handful in kindergarten and then first grade. Sable spent a lot of time with Aesop’s lay teachers, working out a co-op teacher/parent system to corral the little monster. This plan started with a family meeting focused on the need for cooperation from the guys. This plan worked out beautifully. Aesop settled into his new academic regimen quietly, and they did it without a psychologist or drugs.

One evening in April of 1967 Sable put Aesop to bed after saying prayers and planting a kiss on the nape of his innocent neck. She left a little night light on to give him a sense of security. Then she turned her attention to the late evening candlelight dinner she had planned for Gable. She wanted his undivided attention because she wanted to approach him with the idea of adopting a sister for Aesop. Gable was a stubborn man, and a little wine, quiet background music, and a good steak might tenderize him.

Honey, I’ve been thinking, she said casually.

Gable gulped. What now? he thought.

Well, Aesop is six and has no brother or sister. It is well known that a family with multiple children is healthier than having an only child.

Where did you get that one? asked Gable incredulously.

The girls at the gift shop.

So? It must be great to know so many child psychos.

They’re all married and have more than one child and seem to be very happy with their lives. The kids are well adjusted and are performing well scholastically, responded a very patient smiling Sable.

Do all their kids go to Catholic school? asked Gable.

No, just one family. Most of my friends are on tight budgets, and the public schools seem to be OK for now.

So, Sable dearest, what’s in your devious mind?

I want a baby.

How? You know what the doctor said.

Adopt!

What have you been up to?

Well, darling, I’ve been looking around at orphanages. I finally found a place that, I hope, has a girl that might work perfectly for our family. It’s a wonderful place called the Methodist Children’s Home Society (MCHS) in Redford.

Where did you hear about this kid? asked an impatient Gable.

Gertie at the gift shop has a friend who works at the MCHS in the Abuse and Psychology Department. She told her about this girl who was actually left at the doorstep of MCHS. She’s now four, and everyone in the place loves her. She has red hair and freckles and never shuts up. They named her ‘Maple’ because she loves pancakes with maple syrup. In spite of her appetite, she is thin, probably because of her energy. What do you think?

Well, the one plus is that she is already house-broken.

Honey, Gertie says that we should contact the manager of placement services, a Mrs. Hope, who will talk to us about how to go about an adoption if we decide to. As I understand it, she handles the home assessment procedures and the searching/matching programs. It’s like she decides if we would be good parents for Maple, and if we would be a good match as far as ethnicity and religion are concerned.

You mean they’re going to go through our house, check our teeth, see if Aesop is sane, and find out if I’m a wife beater or something? At least we don’t have a dog that froths at the mouth.

Gable, give me a break! It’s something I think would be really great for us as a family. Let’s go and talk with Mrs. Hope. There’s nothing to lose. Please!

OK, OK, already! Let’s go! grumbled Gable, who was still underwhelmed.

CHAPTER 5

Where There’s Hope

So it was a Monday morning in late August 1967 when Gable and Sable drove over for a 10:30 AM appointment with Mrs. Hope at the Methodist Children’s Home Society offices. Aesop had been picked up for school by the neighborhood carpool. The two of them headed for MCHS, only a few miles away, in their 1965 pale blue Mustang convertible. The River Rouge plant was the assembly facility for the Ford Mustang, and since Gable was the foreman, he always had a nice car at a very small cost, a perk for being a Ford employee.

MCHS was located in nearby Redford on 6 Mile Road. The main building was set back in a well-manicured approach lined with shade trees. It was a beautiful Tudor-style structure that had the appearance of an English manor. Gable thought, "This sure doesn’t look like the orphanages I thought of when I read Oliver Twist."

They parked in a designated area under the large trees, which protected the parked cars during the Michigan summers. August was just plain hot. It was 10:15, so they got out of the car and casually strolled toward the elegant entrance. The entry room was typical of the high-pitched ceilings that you see in the older London hotels. There were a lot of wall hangings that were enlarged photographs of the kids that live there and the various activities that were going on through the year.

There was an elderly lady sitting behind a large mahogany desk with a leather notebook, phone, and an antique brass inkwell. She apparently was the greeter as she looked up at them smiling. She asked, May I help you?

Yes, please, answered Sable. We’re Mr. and Mrs. Gable Fable here to see Mrs. Hope. We have a 10:30 appointment.

The greeter opened her appointment book and smiled. Oh yes, you’re right here. Please be seated over there and I’ll let Mrs. Hope know that you’re here.

Mrs. Hope came to her office door and motioned for the Fables to come on in. She was a slender, short African-American lady who appeared to be in her early fifties. Please make yourselves comfortable in these ancient chairs. Would you like some coffee or tea?

No, thank you, said Sable not considering Gable’s wishes. Sable was very nervous and Gable was comatose.

Mrs. Hope’s office was very Spartan, with one old metal file cabinet, her desk, and four guest chairs. There were two lead-filled windows that afforded a view of a large garden area. The room was a strange contrast to the elegance of the entry.

Mrs. Fable, I understand after conversations with Gertrude Rambling that you’re interested in adopting a daughter?

Yes, Mrs. Hope. Gertie was telling me about a foundling that is living here, has no parents, and is now four years old, answered Sable nervously.

Well, we do have a wonderful little four-year-old who was left on our doorstep in a basket wrapped in a thin blanket with no note, nothing. It was a rainy night, and she was crying her little heart out. Our guess was that she was about three weeks old. It was a Friday night in July 1961. She has been cared for here for the last four years. She has known nothing but love from our caring staff. I know they’ll be really sad when she goes, because she has become a fixture here. It’s my job to find a match for her. We have certain criteria that we use to determine who’ll be the best adoptive parents for her.

Do you think we might pass muster? asked Gable, who woke up from his lethargy and began to show some interest.

For starters she is white like you. Also, we send staff to your home to evaluate your standard of living. We check the neighborhood for its churches, stores, schools, and general atmosphere. I think Gertrude told you how we named her. She was about two and a half when we tagged her ‘Maple.’

What did you call her before that? asked a more alert Gable.

Baby number five.

You’re kidding.

We just called out Five. She would smile and come running after she learned to walk. Number Five has had a wonderful life with us. The reason for the number was that she was our fifth foundling baby. When we changed her name, she immediately adapted and loved it.

Can we see her? pled Sable.

Certainly. You will be able to see her in about half an hour. Right now she is in our preschool class, probably running it.

They killed the time by having Mrs. Hope show them around some of the facilities. She showed them where Maple lived. It was a cottage that was one of the original seven cottages built back in 1929. The cottage was small and reminiscent of the cottages in Stratford-upon-Avon near London. Maple had her own desk, chair with a big stuffed black bear, and a large toy box. There was no question about her care and the unabashed love of her by all the staff. It even gave Gable a small lump in his throat. Sable was teary-eyed.

A loud bell rang promptly at noon, sounding lunchtime for the preschoolers. Lunch for the elementary school kids started fifteen minutes later. Twelve three- and four-year-olds sauntered out of their classroom (really a playroom) into the bright light of the summer day. A little redheaded girl had spotted Mrs. Hope.

Nana, Nana, cried the little girl as she ran across the yard and hugged Mrs. Hope around the waist.

Maple, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine, Mr. and Mrs. Fable, said Mrs. Hope, her Nana.

I’m four years old, boasted Maple. I’m getting ready to go to kindergarten. I can count up to twenty and know all the letters in the alphabet.

Wow! That’s really something, and you’re only four. Wow! said an impressed Sable. We would love to have you come and visit our house sometime. Maybe Nana could bring you, and you meet our son.

Right now, it’s lunchtime for the children, and would you like to share it with them? Mrs. Hope asked the Fables.

Of course, we would love to.

Maple, honey, I want you to have this little teddy bear I named Nosy, said a smiling Sable. My folks gave him to me when I was your age. I wish you would take him. He’s a little used, but is so cuddly. He would be a good friend for your big black bear.

Gable rolled his eyes when he saw Sable take him out of her purse. It was a surprise to him. Jumping the gun, he thought.

The little girl giggled, took the bear, and hugged him. Thank you. I don’t know what to call you.

Sable is OK for now.

There was a modest dining room next to the preschool building that held about twenty children. It had low tables and small chairs, but the adults seemed to be able to handle the cramped facilities. Gable’s knees ached. Volunteer ladies did the serving. There they were with twelve little kids who generated decibels beyond belief. The happiness was contagious.

It’s been a long time since I had a melted cheese sandwich, said Gable, who actually enjoyed it. No beer, though.

+++++++++++

The goodbyes were not easy. Mrs. Hope walked them back to her office after the hugs and kisses with Maple, who went back to her quarters with the other kids who were watched and cared for by the volunteers. It was 1:30 and naptime. They sat down with Mrs. Hope again and reviewed what they needed to do to expedite the adoption. There was no question that they both fell in love with Maple from the get-go.

Mrs. Hope recommended that she and one of the staff visit their home and at the same time arrange for an orientation/training session at MCHS, which is their standard procedure before finalizing the adoption.

CHAPTER 6

Arrival Day

It was done. The adoption was complete. The Fables had a daughter. It was Saturday, August 19, 1967. Along with Aesop, they drove to MCHS, met with Mrs. Hope, and greeted little Maple carrying a tiny overnight bag, clasping Nosy, with lots of hugs and kisses. Maple had never seen Aesop before and looked at him quizzically. He had reddish hair like hers and freckles like hers. Sable thought, They could be true brother and sister, amazing!

Sable stepped over to Maple, reached down, and gave her a big hug and kiss. We all love you and want you to be happy with us. Maple smiled wryly and looked over to Mrs. Hope.

Sweetheart, we’re giving you a family. We’re giving you a father, mother, and brother. You’ll never be lonely again, but we all here will miss you. You’ve been our joy. I know you won’t forget us. I know that God will always be with you through their love.

Gable then muscled his way in and picked the little girl up in his arms. You’re my little girl and are you going to be spoiled. Wait ’til you see the bedroom we’ve got fixed up just for you.

I helped Dad with building your dresser and chair, chimed in Aesop. Your room is bigger than mine.

Gable and Sable said their goodbyes and thanks to Mrs. Hope, turned, and walked to the car; Gable carrying Maple, and Sable and Aesop hand in hand. They opened the two car doors, pushed the front seats forward, and put the six-year-old and the four-year-old in their respective car seats. Gable had been careful to buy the best car seat for his new little daughter.

It was a little before lunchtime. They drove the short distance to the Fable home in Romulus. Turning down the tree-lined street, Gable pulled up into the driveway. On the garage door was a large sign: Welcome Maple! The front door opened and out came the anxious grandparents. Icarus was the fastest, opening the driver’s side door, shoving Gable out of the way, opening Maple’s seatbelt, and gently picking up the little girl out of her car seat and smothering her with kisses. Maple almost cried but quickly settled down in the comfortable, strong arms of her grandfather. The rest of the grandparents quickly settled around Gable, holding Maple and admiring their new addition to the family. There was plenty of noise, chatter, the neighbor’s poodle yapping, and Aesop’s next-door friend playing his dissonant harmonica.

Everybody started to head back into the house. Icarus reluctantly let Athena carry Maple up the front steps into the living room. The living room and the dining room were actually one long room with the fireplace toward the front of the house. Aesop ran over to his grandma and pleaded with her to let him show Maple her room. Grandma let Aesop take his new sister by the hand to lead her to her new room. Maple had been very wide-eyed and a little bewildered by all the hoopla, but she smiled and giggled after seeing her beautiful bedroom.

Soppy, can I see your bedroom? asked Maple in her little, tiny voice.

Why? asked Aesop. The six-year-old wasn’t even the least surprised by her nickname for him.

You said my room was bigger than your room.

OK, come on, Mabel.

My name is Maple.

"Not anymore. You called me Soppy; to me, you’re Mabel."

He showed her his room, which was separated from hers by a common two-door bathroom. Aesop had already planned that his role would be big brother and knight-protector of his sister. This tight relationship would last all their lives. It looked like Sable had done the right thing, and Gable loved her for sticking to her convictions.

CHAPTER 7

1970s

Within the limits of a contented family life, the Fables—Gable, Sable, Soppy, and Mabel—enjoyed a contented isolation from all the tragic events of the Detroit riots.

Mabel had been enrolled in the Gesu Catholic School kindergarten and was now in second grade, two years behind Soppy. The school was not cheap, but the education offered by the Jesuits was the best and most complete. Gable and Sable had been very careful with their finances, establishing priorities and focusing on savings.

Both Mabel and Soppy were the most active kids in their classes. They both had a lot of friends. On weekends and after-school times, their house was the center of all the get-togethers. Sable had become very popular. She was the best cookie baker in the neighborhood. So after the aroma of those chocolate-chip beauties wafted in the afternoon air, the avalanche of six-, seven-, eight-year-olds descended on the Fable home. They all had a ball.

One summer night Mabel asked her mother if Jerald Jones, younger brother of the next-door harmonica player, could stay overnight at their house.

That’s fine, honey, but you need to ask Soppy if Jerry can sleep in his room, answered with an understanding smile.

But, Momma, why can’t he stay in my room?

Sweetheart, he’s a boy and you’re a girl. It’s best that he sleeps with Soppy.

Why?

I just said it. You’re a girl and he’s a boy. It’s not a good idea.

Why?

I’ll explain it when you are a little older, answered Sable awkwardly.

Gable arrived home from work and was immediately greeted by Mabel.

Daddy, can Jerry sleep over tomorrow night?

Go ask your mother.

She said for me to ask you.

Let me think about it for a few minutes, antsy-pants, responded Gable, who suspected mind games with Mabel working both sides against each other—standard modus operandi of wily six-year-olds.

But, Daddy, I need to know now, ordered the little one.

Easy, girl. Your mother and I know what’s best. If it’s OK with Soppy, Jerry can stay overnight, and that’s final.

Mabel went to Soppy, who was reading a comic book in his room, and popped the question.

He’ll have to sleep on the floor and not bug me, said her mildly irritated brother.

Gee, thanks, Soppy. He won’t be a bother. We’ll watch television and go to bed when Momma says so. I still don’t know why he has to sleep with you.

Me neither.

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It was 1970 and Gable was getting increasingly uncomfortable living in the Detroit area. The riots were widespread. There was a huge Muslim influx into their neighborhood. He was getting nervous. The Catholic population was leaving because of the Muslim intimidation. It seemed as if no streets were safe.

It seemed to Gable that everything was getting out of control. The Vietnam War, the Cold War, and the Selective Service Act triggered a lot of anger. He reflected on his life, vaguely remembering World War II but remembering the Korean War and his life in the fifties. Those were the Ozzie and Harriet-Leave it to Beaver-Father Knows Best days. The Beatles and Elvis were conquering the entertainment world. Captain Kangaroo, Kukla, Fran and Ollie, and Beanie kept the kids hypnotized in front of small black and white TV screens. The adults loved Uncle Miltie and Ed Sullivan. But along came Woodstock in the sixties. Drugs and love children, Jack Valenti opening the door for sex in the movies, and tire-kicking before marriage replaced the idyllic picture of the family unit.

Gable had the best nineteen-inch TV set in the neighborhood, which was an added attraction to the cookies. The house was always full with kids, but he and Sable made sure all the children played outside in the yard but not near the street. PBS did offer an ideal TV series for the kids: Sesame Street, Big Bird, and Mister Rogers. Maybe there is hope, thought Gable. But then he would drive to work through some of the most desolate areas imaginable. Gangs of unkempt blacks and whites loitering and looting had left Detroit in ruins.

The time has come, thought Gable. He would go to his boss, Hensil (Henny) Sharpton, and find out if there were other Ford facilities outside of Detroit that could use his expertise. The kids are still young and should have no problems adjusting to a new environment and making new friends. The goodbyes will be hard for everyone. Now would be best.

Henny had been Gable’s good friend through all the upheaval with the Walter Reuther-led UAW. Gable’s job was always a protected position, which enabled him to go through the lines freely without fear for his life. The union had been good for him because he had not been considered part of upper management. Gable and Sable’s frugality would allow them to relocate without having to borrow money. And the sale of their house, almost completely paid for, would generate enough funds to at least get a down payment on a more expensive California home. Ford HR had a real estate broker, Sharon Sellers, in a separate office (on salary and commission) at the River Rouge administration building. Gable had signed a sixty-day contract with her.

++++++++++++

Henny’s office was located near the start of the body-placement track in the immense assembly plant. Gable was the foreman of that division. He had proven to be an efficient leader with a natural, smooth style that engendered respect from all his coworkers.

Henny was different. He was ten years older than Gable and always dressed with a tie and coat that gave him an air of superiority. He was a tall, slender, clean-shaven black man who, like Gable, came up through the ranks. His family was very poor, and he had worked himself up the ladder by putting in horrendous hours on entry-level jobs. During his first job at Ford, he studied nights and ultimately (and proudly) got his high school diploma. His exterior appearance belied his kindness and humbleness. Henny was a patient overseer, but don’t cross him. He had been hardened by constant union pressure and subsequent settlements. He along with Gable made a good team to keep the goof-offs from goofing off.

In spite of his close friendship with Henny, Gable was nervous before going to the meeting. He decided for an I-couldn’t-care-less approach—a little desperate, but not too desperate.

Henny was sitting behind his desk almost completely hidden behind stacks of manila files, blueprints, and manuals. Hi, Gabe, smiled Henny. Pull up a chair. Want coffee?

No, thanks. Maybe a glass of water.

Henny went across the small office to a console that held a coffeemaker and a pitcher of ice water and then handed Gable a large crystal glassful.

What’s on your weak mind?

With a large frog in his throat, Gable managed to get the words out. Henny, I was wondering if the Ford plant in California has any openings. Sable and I have been kicking this around for quite a while. Detroit is not like it used to be. We still have a young family, and the kids are still little enough that moving away at their age would not be so traumatic as when they are in their teens.

It’s interesting that you brought this up at this time. I actually have on my desk, if I can find it, a memo suggesting that I look into the possibility of sending one of our assembly line foremen to the Pico Rivera plant, which is short-handed. They are converting over to Mercury sedans and phasing out the Edsel, which has been a dog, as you know, smiled Henny. It should be an easy transition, but I’ll sure miss you.

What’s going on, Henny? inquired a suspicious Gable. You act like you’ve known about this. Have you?

Yep.

How?

Are you kidding? Henny chuckled. My wife Syble, your wife Sable, and the Romulus blabbermouth Gertie have coffee together almost every morning during the week. The whole town knows. As a matter of fact, your crew has already planned a going-away party. And since you’re moving to another Ford installation, the company will move you and put your stuff in storage until you find a house. You’ll be on salary for your week of travel, but it’s for one week. After that week you’ll have to report for work. Of course you’ll still be working here until you leave. Oh, and another thing: they need you in September for sure. Can you handle that?

You betcha I can. The family will just have to get the lead out. The kids are out of school for August. Henny, I don’t know what to say. It probably would be easier for me if you guys were all a bunch of rats. I’m sure going to miss you all, said a very stunned and emotional Gable.

+++++++++++

A light-headed Gable went back to work on the line, facing the grimy grins of his coworkers. It was backslapping time. And then the workday finally ended with all the guys washing up at the large circular washbasin with multiple faucets and a large supply of Lava soap. It was almost impossible to get the black grease lines out of the nooks and crannies of their hands, but it was a great salutary time—home and a cold beer.

+++++++++++

It was Friday. Gable drove up the driveway. It was around six o’clock. He didn’t pay any attention to the surroundings, so was surprised when he opened the front door and was greeted by Icarus, Athena, Edgar, and Bess in addition to the kids and Sable. He walked over and embraced her, whispering in her ear, You dirty rat (a la Cagney), you spilled the beans to everybody.

Mabel came running up to her daddy and pulled on his pants leg. Nana bought me a Barbie. Come see it, she begged.

Just a minute, honey. I want to see Nana and Papa for a second. You both knew about this too?"

Icarus smiled and said, Of course, dummy.

Edgar came over. What made you think a big deal like this would not get around? We’re happy for you, Gabe, but we’re going to miss you and the kids.

I sure hope you all will come out often. Your grandchildren will really miss you. It’s quite a trip, but from what I have learned, you can’t beat the weather.

Daddy!

OK, OK.

Hand in hand daddy and daughter went to her room.

Daddy, this is the best Barbie of all. Nana really loves me.

Of course she does and you know I do. Wow! What a beauty.

Daddy, how far away is our new house? Is it farther away than Papa and Nana’s house?

It’s a long, long way, and you’ll find new friends. Think of this: we can go to Disneyland or Knott’s Berry Farm.

Daddy, I’m scared.

I’m a little scared myself, but I know that Jesus will be our guide and our shield, and we’ll be together.

Soppy heard them and came into the room. Dad, did I hear you say Disneyland and Knott’s?

You sure did, and there’s more than that out there. You’ll even get to see the Pacific Ocean. And they have little league baseball just like here. You’ll have a ball.

Gable went back to the rest of the family and cracked a brew. Sable had laid out a table with all kinds of snacks, including salami, provolone, assorted crackers, guacamole dip and chips, and Gable’s favorite, little