Potter and Clay

By Rabecka Commans

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She ran to catch up to her co-worker, arm extended. “Hey, Ryan, you going?”

“Going where?” He stopped in his tracks.

She lowered her outstretched arm. “You’re kidding.”

A pause and an awkward stare from Ryan said he wasn’t.

Her brows furrowed, “You didn’t get an invitation?”

“To?”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The private funeral.” She ran her fingers through her hair, the smell of hand sanitizer mixing with her cheap strawberry-scented shampoo. “Why did I get an invitation? I barely knew the guy!”

When she had first read the invitation, she thought it was a mistake. She dug through the trash for the envelope to make sure they sent it to the right person, but there was her name handwritten on the front – Jenalin Munton – spelled right and everything.

She and Ryan were alone. The garage was strangely quiet – no music blasting or machines whirring; most of the guys had gone to lunch. Ryan’s eyes darted for the door. “I dunno. You’ve been here longer than me.”

“I’m not gonna know anyone!”

Ryan shrugged. “Then no one should notice if you’re not there.”

“But what if they do? He’s my boss’s dad.”

Ryan scratched his beard, black grime under his fingernails the same color as his short, coarse facial hair. “Then you should go.”

“Can’t you come with me?”

“When?”

“Saturday at 1:00.”

“I can’t. It’s my nephew’s soccer game.”

“Oh yeah.” Jenalin put her hands in her shallow pockets. Landon – just the name made her heart sink. The way he smiled at her when he came into the garage with Ryan, just the slight smile that teenagers do when they are happy to see someone but don’t want to show it. The way he’d nudge Ryan and teasingly raise his eyebrows when he thought she wasn’t looking. “How’s his mom doing?”

He crossed his arms, nodding his head, “Oh, you know, she does alright while she’s in. The real test is if she can keep it up when she’s out.”

Jenalin nodded robotically, glancing toward the door to the office. Drugs and all that stuff always made her uncomfortable; talking to Ryan was always a gamble. Her heel clicked on the cement floor as she took a step back.

“You know, the invitation still stands-” Ryan lifted his eyebrows “-if you ever wanna come.”

With another step back, Jenalin crossed her arms over her chest. “Right.”

“The coach is talking about putting him on sweeper!”

What? Why would a soccer field need a sweeper? Wasn’t soccer the outdoor game? Or was she getting that confused with another one? She smiled. “Good for him.”

Ryan motioned behind him. “I’m meeting the guys.”

“Oh yeah, of course, sorry for keeping you.”

He stepped to leave and turned back, “So you’ll think about coming sometime?”

She faltered, her mind racing. Why did he want her there? How could she make a difference? “Yeah, yeah, of course.” She waved a hand with a forced laugh.

He grinned and spun around, strolling out the open garage door.

Jenalin retreated from the grimy dark garage into the well-lit, and well-air-conditioned, office. After pulling on a light sweater, she unzipped her packed lunch of a protein shake, raisins, and cheddar rice cakes. Kicking off her heels, she rubbed on some hand sanitizer and nibbled at the food as she worked on more paperwork and tried to ignore the decision looming before her.

#

Saturday morning, she sat up on the side of the bed and stared at the black slacks and lacy top she’d laid out the night before. Throwing her head back, she laid down again. She could go back to sleep and forget about the invitation. Who knows? Maybe Ryan was right. Why would anyone notice if she wasn’t there? As she lay in bed, the image of her handwritten name on the front of the envelope haunted her mind until she was filled with guilt.

She sat up again and threw on the clothes and a matching purse. Looking in her floor-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, she sighed, hoping no one would notice the slightly different color fabric near the bottom of her slacks that kept her ankles from sticking out. Just as she headed out the door, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID: “Hot Lips”? Who was that? She groaned, realization dawning. Had she really never changed his name back in the past two years?

“Hey, it’s Ryan. Am I your alarm?”

“No, I was up.” She grabbed her keys from the hangers by the door.

“Oh, good, good. Hey, did I tell you Landon’s having a soccer game today?”

“Yeah, but I have that funeral to go to, remember?” Jenalin let out a puff of air, suddenly glad she’d decided to go to the funeral instead of lay in bed.

“Oh, I forgot about that.”

In the awkward silence that followed, she could hear the echoey sound of music in the background. Ryan was probably at the garage, priming or putting a mask on a car. He wasn’t able to stay late on weekdays since he tried to be back when Landon came home from school, so he made it up on the weekends when Landon slept in. Maybe he liked being alone in the garage. She’d come in once on a Saturday to grab her phone charger and had found him singing at the top of his lungs to an old Garth Brooks song. The volume of the speakers almost drowned out the sound of his out of tune, improvised riffs over the melody.

She closed the door behind her, three printed out maps clutched in her hand. She had one with written out directions, one with a picture of the route, and one with reverse directions for on the way home. Of course, she had her phone with her, but she’d learned to always have printed out maps with her as well, just in case her phone died or lost connection. Maybe she was over the top, but at least she was prepared.

Ryan’s voice sounded muffled like he had the phone too close to his beard. “The game’s not til three, so you might still be able to make it.”

“Sorry, Ryan, probably not today.”

“Right, right, maybe next time.”

Another silence. Should she just say bye? She didn’t like driving while talking on the phone. But that extra time in bed had cost her the time she normally gave herself going to new places for if she missed a turn on the way there.

“Well, have fun at the funeral.”

Should she say thank you? What was that even supposed to mean? “Yeah. And I hope Landon sweeps well.”

“Yeah, it’s a big responsibility!” She heard a clatter as Ryan fumbled his phone. “Haha, almost lost ya there!”

Silence again as the words sunk in. For the millionth time, Jenalin wondered if she should’ve changed jobs. Maybe worked from home? How many people work with their ex-fiancé, after all? She’d forgiven him for putting off the wedding. He was taking in a kid after all, and that was more important. But after that, they just fell apart. Now, they were only co-workers. Anything beyond that was just too messy.

She held the peeling, painted side rail as she walked down the cement stairs from her front door, “See you Monday, Ryan.”

“Yeah-”

She accidentally cut his voice off, ending the call too early. Oh well. He’d understand. He knew she had stuff to do.

Nearly tripping in her heels on the uneven, cracked pavement of her little driveway, she ducked inside her little car and maneuvered around the cars of the other renters who shared the duplex, putting her phone in her cup holder so she could see the map as she drove.

#

When she finally pulled into the address, she wondered if maybe there had been a misprint on the letter she’d received. Or her maps were wrong. Maybe the church was further down the street? She was in deep forest now, and each driveway hid its occupants behind tangled brush, wide pines, and tall oaks.

Cars lined the driveway. Men, women, and children in black clothes piled out of vehicles and made their way to the backyard of a tiny house. Jenalin found a narrow alcove between a truck and a tree stump where her car could fit. After squirting some sanitizer into her hands, she followed the trickle of people to the backyard where rows of folding chairs gleamed in the sunlight looking out on a creek-fed pond. Her heels wobbled on the loose rock path.

Before she could slip into the back row, a woman approached her wearing a navy-blue sundress with sunflowers embroidered into the waistline. “Are you Jenalin?

Dumbfounded, Jenalin took the stranger’s offered hand, nodding mutely.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’m Krissi by the way, in case you didn’t know. My grandpa talked about you all the time.”

“He did?” There must be some mistake. She hardly knew their grandpa. Did she think she was someone else? Maybe the invitation had been a mistake after all.

Krissi glanced around. “Are you here alone? You can come sit by me.”

“Okay.” Jenalin allowed Krissi to lead her through the chairs and the groups of talking and laughing people to seats near the front on the left side. Krissi had this way of walking, sliding around people and objects in her way like flowing water around a log. As they got closer to the pond, she noticed a green kind of smell, like algae mixed with sunlight, blowing in the wind coming off the dancing water.

Krissi must have noticed her staring, “This place used to be an old, run-down park. The county sold the property to my grandpa, and he worked on fixing up the place for over twenty years.” She smiled tearfully. “He had a way with making rough things beautiful.”

Jenalin sat beside her new acquaintance, amazed at the sound of laughing and talking. She saw her boss, Gregory, chatting with a woman with snow-white hair and skin like wrinkled, spotted paper. She always forgot how funerals actually were. They were a social event just as much a somber event. Still, it felt wrong. Someone was dead after all. His picture sat on a table in the front, surrounded by jars of what looked like polished rocks. Flowers in shallow pots made a bouquet on the ground in front of the table.

Ushers handed out pamphlets containing the order of events and a loose paper containing lyrics for a song Jenalin had never heard. The words had the feeling of the old hymns she used to sing at her grandparent’s church when she was a kid. She’d started going again with Ryan for a little while, but it had only lasted for as long as they were together.

The pastor started the service by having everyone join him singing the song acapella. His voice wavered into the microphone and out of the speakers of the small sound system connected to the house by an orange extension cord. “This was his favorite song.” Krissi leaned over and whispered in her ear.

Potter hear the clay saying "mold me in Thy way"

That I may share this love instilled in me

With skillful hands perform the task

Just like Thee Lord's all I ask

After the song, the pastor invited people to come up and share stories about Krissi’s grandfather. At first, the chairs sat silent. Jenalin looked around and saw blank faces.

Then, a woman raised her hand and stood. She shuffled up the aisle and took the microphone from the pastor. “I was one of Lee’s many foster children,” she said. Her voice sounded like she had gargled glass in preparation to speak up front. “Lee had this saying. He said if God’s willing to get his hands dirty, we should be prepared to do the same.” The woman cackled into her chest, so curled in on herself Jenalin thought she might tip over. “He got his hands dirtiest with me, fishing me out of a muddy ditch on the side of the road. He took me, the runaway, home, tromping mud into his house, and gave me back my bedroom. I might still be in that ditch if it weren’t for him.”

Another hand. Another story. “He bailed me out of jail.”

“He drove fifty miles away to help fix my car.”

The stories were coming faster now. A hospital bill paid. A car ride to prom. Odd jobs around the house while her husband was deployed. A mysterious bag of groceries showing up at his door when he lost his job. Coming to his classroom dressed up as Albert Einstein and answering questions. On and on. She thought she counted at least eight foster kids, and those were just the ones here. How was it she had never known? She’d always thought he was a humorous old man, but this? The pastor preached a sermon, but she barely listened.

After the pastor dismissed them to go eat, Gregory, her boss, walked over to her. “Jenalin! I’m glad you made it.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Jenalin’s hands fell limp at her side. The words sounded empty. The whole world should be sorry for this man’s loss.

“You remember, near the end, he lost his hearing?”

Jenalin nodded.

“He just sat and talked to anyone who would listen to him. For hours and hours. We all took turns. And you know he talked about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, he called you his secretary. ‘You can just see her head above the desk when she’s sitting. But when she stands, she’s all leg,’ he’d say.” Gregory’s face lit up as he mimicked his father’s voice. Is that how Lee’s face had looked when he talked about her? “He talked about trying to sneak into the office just to see if he could get past you without you saying hi. How you always listened to his stories and laughed at his jokes. He never seemed happier than when he was at the garage.” He put a hand on Jenalin’s shoulder. “I’m really glad you could come. He’d be happy you’re here.”

Jenalin’s heart swelled. She’d never thought she’d made a difference to anyone, much less to someone who had made a difference in so many people’s lives.

She thanked Gregory for the invitation and then hurried across the gravel path to Krissi, who was taking the plastic cover off of a vegetable tray at the row of tables filled with food. “Hey, I’m sorry, but I can’t stay for the food. I have to go.”

Krissi beamed at her. “I’m sure Grandpa is happy you came. Wait! Before you go-” She hurried over to the display and picked out a pot of flowers, thrusting it into Jenalin’s hands. Dirt clinging to the bottom of the pot wedged beneath Jenalin’s fingernails. “He would have wanted you to have these. Thanks for putting up with him for all these years!”

Jenalin thanked her and rushed over to her car.

Jenalin placed the pot in her trunk, whipped out her phone, and searched her contact list under “H”.

“Hey Ryan, will I need to bring a chair to the game?”

“Nah, I always bring an extra.”

Jenalin pulled out of her spot so fast her hand sanitizer spilled out of her purse and rolled across the floor. But her eyes stayed fixed straight ahead, sanitizer and maps forgotten.