CLUTTERBUCKS — EPISODE 7

Kids all over Scarborough are waking up excited. 
They’ve already decorated their bikes with ribbons and streamers, plastic dollar-store windmills, noisemakers, tinsel, ornaments – and any other trinkets they begged, borrowed, or stole – are tied, glued, stuck or otherwise affixed to their bikes which they will parade down Kingston Road at ten o’clock sharp after which The Kingston Road Annual Spring Street Festival will officially open.
Grace wakes up. 
She hears a million different sounds – workers setting up barriers against the traffic, carts being wheeled here and there, booths being assembled, greetings shouted, rumbles of who knows what, is that popcorn she smells?,  the whine of a saw, a hammer, more shouts, thumps and thuds – and although she is alone in the rafters of a huge building on Kingston Road in Scarborough, she feels grateful and safe.
Any sound is better than no sound. And this, April 29, is the first day she wakes up immediately aware that she’s not in the basement any more.  
Kreskin is very quiet. It’s only the smell of the coffee that gives him away. 
Grace climbs down the ladder. She’s wearing a t-shirt that says if only. Her blue eyes also say if only.
“Make me one,” Kreskin says pointing at her shirt.
“Okay.” She nods at the coffee pot. “And you make me one”.
“How do you take it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never taken it before.”
“Well then I’ll make you the perfect coffee for beginners,” he smiles.
He throws in a dash of Daphne’s hazelnut syrup from the bar fridge. 
“I guess the guys are already on the roof. Sorry about the noise. I didn’t know they’d show up so early. They’ll be here all week, and listen, I’m not sure what’s going to go down exactly, but I’ll be moving up here before long.”
He points to the far corner. “That’s where I’ll sleep. You okay with that?”
“Yes,” Grace says. “But not Normal or Simple–”
“Perfect character assessments. And no. I will not invite anyone. Glad you like the coffee,” he adds, “but maybe you should slow down.”
Grace peels over to her doorway. 
“I’m going to make your shirt now,” she says. “What do you want on it?” 
“You decide.”
A light goes on in Kreskin’s head.  
“I think I’m going to get them to build us a deck up there,” he points along the south side of the roof. “ A secret deck. There. So we can see the lake. And they can build a little cat walk for you,” he walks the imaginary path with his fingers. “And a secret door.” He draws a square.
“And a hammock?” Grace describes a swinging hammock in the air. “I’ve always wanted a hammock.”
“Done.”
“And one of these?” She dashes across the store and holds up a telescope.
“And maybe one of these!” She points to a stuffed cat plunked on the end of a shelf . “But a real one!”
Mortis opens one eye, catches Rig’s eye on the other end of the shelf, and smiles.
“And I just thought of a nice little surprise for you.”
“Oh! I’ve never had one of those, either,” Grace says.

Daphne gets up early. She loves the fair and wants to get to the store and into the spirit of things. She’ll set up a coffee table and pick up some pastries and muffins on her way, the tulips she ordered yesterday will be delivered at ten, she’ll ask Avo – oh shit – she’ll pick up some balloons and windmills, and she’ll drag a table outside to display a few springy items that she hopes will get people into the mood and into the store. 
She might even be able to sell Jane’s Royal Dalton bouquet. 
And she wants to talk to Mr. Jet before he disappears.
There’s a nice little donation in the garage of the 19 Regency location and she needs a new driver. Who knows? Maybe she can help Mr. Jet clean up his act and he will certainly know the difference between The Salvation Army sign, the Humane Society sign and all the other signs. Sedesky’s also on her list. He hasn’t returned any of her calls but she’ll corner him at the fair. He never misses it, and later, she’ll pick Harriet up. She never misses the fair either.
Daphne tip-toes into the kitchen to put the kettle on. 
Why is her make-up bag on the counter? It’s wide open, the lipstick is standing upright and she spots the lid on the kitchen table, and a folded tissue, kissed, like a butterfly on the floor.
“Oh shit,” Daphne runs upstairs. “Mom?”
But Harriet’s room is empty.
Daphne calls the store. 
“Hello?” Grace answers on the first ring. 
“Grace. It’s Daphne. Is my mom there?”
“I don’t know your mom.”
“Is there anybody there who looks like they could be my mom? Take a look outside.”
Grace dashes to the door, sees an older woman on the bench dressed in a bright pink jacket, neon skirt, running shoes (with lights?) and she dashes back to the phone.
“She’s on the bench. Talking to Mr. Jet and Kreskin”
“Oh thank God. Okay. Grace. You gotta make sure she stays put.”
“How?”
“If she gets up to leave, tell her a joke.”
Daphne slides into the car and presses play:

Hello Folks. And welcome to Funny Business, your guide to making a living in the world of comedy – and remember, folks, I didn’t say a good living. My name is Cowboy Jim and thanks for listening. I want to share something special with you on today’s show but first I’d like to read a few emails. Those of you who listened to our episode from March 30 heard the one and only Daphne Buck, our Post Card Contest Winner, and it seems you all have the same suggestion. This one is from Celia in Toronto: Hey Cowboy. I’m a long-time listener and I just thought I’d write to tell you how much I enjoyed the show with Daphne. I thought it was funny and sweet and you two are really good together. Love, Celia. And another from Bruce in Trenton: Cowboy. I entered the Postcard contest like twelve times and they were all funnier than the goat one. And this one’s all the way from Nova Scotia. Loved the show with Daphne. Invite her on again! Unless you’re afraid she’ll steal the show! For the record, folks, I am not afraid she will steal the show and also for the record, I very much enjoyed having her … So Daphne, if you’re listening, I think you need to come back on! Give us a call! Now for the news. A New Contest! Two Minutes, Two People, Two Thousand. That’s right folks. You can win two thousand dollars. Just send us a two minute skit. A conversation between two people. Just like the postcard competition, we’ll narrow it down to a short list and then you, our listeners, will decide on the winner. So get your Two Minutes, Two People skits in now. Contest closes two weeks blah blah blah.

Daphne parks in the back, dodges the puddles, and comes out of the alleyway. 
Her mother is engaged in a lively conversation with Mr. Jet. 
“Morning, mom!”
“Oh Daphne. Did you bring muffins?”
“Course. You want blueberry?”
“Please. And coffee.”
“Mr. Jet?” Daphne asks. “Which for you.”
“Doesn’t matter. Whatever you can spare.”
Exactly the motto Daphne would like to change.
She hands him a blueberry muffin and a cup of coffee.
“Listen, Mr. Jet. I have an idea–”
Grace has been practicing. She comes out and sits beside Harriet.
“Knock Knock,” she says.
Harriet’s face light up. “Who’s there?”
“Wendy.”
“Wendy who?”
“Wendy parade starts, let me know.”
Everybody laughs.
“Mr. Jet,” Daphne continues. “Something I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Sure,” Mr. Jet squints at her. “I didn’t know it was you all this time. I just heard you were nice to people like me. Also I like purple. And there’s not many purple benches like this one around.”
“I gotta make this short and sweet before my partner gets here. My driver quit last week and I need a new one. I was thinking you might like the job. You’ll be working with me, mostly, picking up donations from my clients and bringing them back here. And I need help with lots of other things around here, too. You’ll be the caretaker, basically. There’s always something–”
Suddenly the eaves-trough falls to the ground in front of them.
“There’s always something to do around here.”
Mr. Jet considers the offer.
“Knock Knock,” Grace says.
“Who’s there?”
“Dwayne.”
“Dwayne who?”
“Dwayne the tub I’m dwowning.”
Mr. Jet reaches into his coat, pulls out a mickey and pours its final few drops into his coffee. 
“I haven’t worked in a long time. Also I haven’t showered in a long time. And there’s this,” he holds up the bottle. “I got a little problem.”
“I know. That will all have to change. Come to an AA meeting tonight and you can start work tomorrow. It’s interesting and fun. I just know you’ll like it.”
“What – the meeting?”
“The work. We do things a little differently around here. You’ll like it. There’s a meeting over by the high school tonight. At the library in the plaza. Seven o’clock. I can pick you up here or I’ll  meet you there. And you’re gonna have to change, you know, your clothes. There’s a shower in the store you can use. C’mon I’ll show you. “
“I don’t have anything to change into.”
“There’s a whole bunch of clothes in there. I’ll leave you to pick through them. And I keep a stash of new socks and underwear, too, giveaways for my friends that come in at the end of the month. You can help yourself. And we’ll set you up in a room somewhere. I know a real estate agent and if you say yes, she’ll find you a place quick. As in today.” 
“I don’t know Daphne.”
“What don’t you know?”
“If I can do it.”
“Do you want to do it?”
“I think so.”
“Not good enough. Do you want to do it?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“Do you want to do it? Are you ready to change your life? Be the man you’ve always wanted to be? If the answer is yes, you know where the shower is.”
“Yes!” Mr. Jet takes a deep breath and stands up. “But no!”
“What does that mean?”
“Yes I want to do it, but no, I don’t know where the shower is.”
“Oh. Right. C’mon. I’ll show you.”
Half an hour later Mr. Jet comes out in a purple suit, a bright yellow shirt and a wide psychedelic tie. 
A clown walks by. 
Mr. Jet eyes him and smiles. “Wow. I think I might fit in here after all!”

Kreskin is dictating his new novel into his phone while waiting for Vanity. He is wearing a T-shirt that says you decide. 
Flash to Simon across the street, ear against speaker, frantically writing down everything Kreskin is saying.
Simon has been busy. He’s on his second draft of a query letter to the attention of Ms. Vanity Long at Frank, Reek, Castles and Mergatroid Publishing Co., is nearly finished the outline, and is polishing the first fifty pages which he fully expects her to request. After all, stories like this don’t come along every day. 
Kreskin’s recently published first novel, The Whispering Gentlemen, has been out for less than a week and is already a best-seller. In a gold circle on the cover is the claim: Soon to be a major motion picture and Kreskin is a very rich young man. Vanity Long has arranged all kinds of interviews and signings, the first of which is scheduled for Monday at Chapters on Bloor.
“I’ll have you picked up,” Vanity told him over the phone. “You’ll have your own driver.”
Flash to Matthew getting fitted for a chauffeur outfit.

“June!” Michool hollers.
“Michool!” Daphne hollers.
“Balloons!” Grace hollers.
Daphne approaches Michool. “I have an idea. Do you have a few minutes? I need to explain it to you and then, if you’re on board, we can both go talk to Sedesky. So here’s what I’m thinking– actually hang on – I’m going to go get Jane.”
“Who’s Jane?”
Jane looks over.
“Come on Jane,” Daphne says. “You should hear this, too. Let’s go next door for a coffee.”
Seated at Our Salad Days’ patio, Daphne can still hear Grace.
“Knock Knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Turnip.”
“Turnip who?”
“Turnip the radio it’s my favourite song!”
“It’s actually a simple idea,” Daphne says after they order, “but maybe you can tell us about the game first.”
“Yes,” Jane adds. “I need to blog about it while you’ve got a buzz going. While people still remember your recent bout with fame. You got lots of hits yesterday. More than eight hundred. I’d like to be able to tell people what the actual game is, you know, get some real buzz going.”
“Yes. Now’s the time. So I know it’s like LaserQuest,” Daphne says, “but tell me more.”
“It’s not like Laser Quest. Where’d you hear that? 
“Oh. I think that’s what Jane said.”
“Who’s Jane?”
Daphne points.
“Oh, June you mean.”
Michool goes through the details over lunch. He is funny and entertaining and informative and charming.
“I gotta say Michool, that sounds awesome. Truly. What an amazing concept!” Daphne says.
“Agree,” Jane says. “It’s fantastic!”
Michool is delighted. “Really? Jeez. That’s great to hear! Maybe I should try it on an investor because I need about fifty more grand to get it off the ground.”
He turns to Daphne. “So what’s the plan?”
“Well,” she says. “It’s not so much a plan, really, as an option. I thought if you took the basement, you know, instead of my space, it would work out for everybody.”
“Oh. Well,” he laughs. “Good plan. But that’s what we’ve been talking about all along. I’m taking your entire basement – did you know it extends all the way under the road from Birchmount to Warden and that there’s an actual shooting range down there? We’ve got the space under Simpletons as well. It’s huge. Sedesky’s got other plans for your place.”

Jane’s next Warrior Waze blog has none of the usual friendly conversational vibe. It’s a single, short paragraph:Warrior Waze is a game of survival. It’s a week-long event where a group of 13 strangers meet at a secret underground location where they compete in physical and intellectual challenges for rewards and immunity from elimination. Each contestant pays $2,500 to enter the contest. The contestants are progressively eliminated from the game as they are voted out by their fellow contestants, until only one remains and is given the title of “Winning Warrior”. This winner is awarded $25,000. Interested persons can start the application process here: signmeup@warriorwaze.ca.
She checks the stats before she goes to bed. 523 hits already. And 483 signmeup emails. 

Daphne watches Grace wander around the fair. She loses sight of her now and then, catches a drift of her long hair, and follows her until she gets lost in the crowd again. 
It’s a pleasure to see Grace’s delicate face looking so pleasant and content. 
Daphne spots her walking away from the Up, Up and Away booth, holding a handful of ribbons upon which five red helium balloons bob. She stops next to Simpletons, in front of the only old red brick house left on the block – it’s for sale and will surely be renovated – raises her arms, and lets go. 
She tilts her head back and watches the balloons disappear into the sky.
When she heads back to the store her face is blotchy and red, her blue eyes paler than ever.
She sits on the bench beside Daphne. 
“What was that all about?”
“They’re for somebody in Heaven.”
Daphne scootches closer. “Who?”
“He got me pregnant. I had a baby. He took her. Got rid of her he said.”
Daphne puts her arm around Grace and kisses her forehead. “I’m so sorry honey.”
“Wow,” Kreskin suddenly says. “That never happens.”
Grace looks over at him. “What never happens?” 
“I never get it wrong.”
“Get what wrong?”
“Hmmm. I’ll try to explain. I have people. A circle of friends I guess. They each have a beacon. A light. I don’t even know some of the people in my circle yet. For instance Greybird has been in the circle all my life but I only just met him for real a couple of weeks ago. And you, Grace, you are the newest member to the circle. Your light just went on this morning and I could have sworn your light was over there just now.

He points across the street to a small child in the crowd. Her long hair flows, her delicate face is tipped toward the sky.
“Her,” Kreskin says. “I thought it was you. And I’m still getting the signals.”