Suzie’s House 342 : Affable As Always

By the time they’d crossed the long bridge across the Mississippi which marked the change from Minnesota to Wisconsin, Drew was feeling good about this trip. They passed through the lush green hills, under the increasingly frequent underpasses, and off the interstate on the North side of town while Trent cracked jokes.

“So, we going straight to Suzie’s House?” Trent wigged his thick, gray eyebrows like Groucho Marx. “Hey, look at that. They call this street Washington and way down there at the end you can see something that looks like the US Capital.”

“Yeah,” Drew said absentmindedly with his eyes on the road and both hands on the steering wheel.

This was probably the moment when his resolve should galvanize. Having driven about 1,500 miles, you’d think he’d be prepared. But no. His emotions were about as stable as a rangy teenager’s.

“Good thing we got here early in the day, right? We don’t have to worry about it being too late.” Trent’s piercing eyes drilled Drew from the side. “She’s not the kind you need to call ahead, is she?”

“No. No, of course not.” Even with heavy traffic, they made fast progress to the turn off. “But… there’s no rush.”

“No. Of course not.” Trent sounded disappointed.

Drew glanced his way. Yep, definitely disappointed. In him.

“I promise no matter what I will see Suzie. Unless fate drives me away, I’ll see her today. And even if something horrible happens so I can’t see her today, I will see her before I leave Madison again. Satisfied?”

“Yes.” Trent beamed. “I’ve never known you to break a promise. You’re more the kind that won’t make them in the first place.”

“Something wrong with that?”

“Not at all. So? What do you want to do first?”

They passed the turn off without even getting into the correct lane. Ahead, the capital building – capital of Wisconsin, that is – loomed large.

“How about we wander through the capital, and then down State Street?”

“Sure.”

“That should put us at Suzie’s house right around supper. Trust me, supper is the time to arrive.” Drew grinned knowingly. He could already taste the home cooking. “But lunch we’d have to get on our own anyway. I know this gyro place on State Street that you’ll love.”

Trent didn’t say another word about going to see Suzie. He didn’t have to. Drew could feel the weight of the promise with every step they took. Every beat of his heart brought a wild array of hope, fear, joy and pain. Meanwhile Trent bounced along in a great mood.

He oohed and aahed over the marble floors and soaring ceilings of the capital building, opened the door for a young mother wrestling with a stroller, and dropped coins in every open guitar case they passed.

His good mood helped Drew calm down and feel good. If this kept up, he’d be ready to face Suzie well before supper.

A kid standing in front of Peace Park screamed his head off. He couldn’t have been more than four years old. Apparently he’d gotten separated from his mother. Trent took the boy’s hand.

“Are you going to find my mommy?” The boy stopped crying long enough to look hopeful.

“Nope. I’m going to help you find her. I’ll pick you up, and you look around and see if you can find her.” Trent sounded like he would really try, despite his bad back.

“I’ll do it.” Drew reached for the boy’s other hand, but before contact, a woman came running up.

“Jason! You bad boy. Don’t run away like that.” She scooped up the child.

“Mommy!” All sorrow forgotten, Jason wrapped his little arms around the woman.

Rather than thanking them, the woman gave both Drew and Trent suspicious looks, as if sure the men were both pedophiles. She hurried away twice as fast as anyone else walking down the street.

“Hah. That’s gratitude for you.” Trent smiled as he shook his head. The two of them continued toward the university end of State Street. “I tell you, the modern world is nowhere near as polite as what used to be.”

“But you’d still reach out to people even if they hated you for it.”

“Of course. Life is better for everyone that way.”

“You know what? When I was a kid, I wanted to be like Andy Griffith.”

“Are you even old enough to remember Andy Griffith?” Trent leaned back and eyed Drew like he’d grown an extra head.

“Shut up. Re-runs.” Drew glared back. “Anyway, I’ve changed my mind. When I grow up, I want to be like you.”

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