Shhh. I’ll Tell You a Secret

My father’s house is sold, and I have thirty days to get out. There is a fourteen day contingency removal, so for the most part, I’m not going to do anything for those two weeks except enjoy the calm before the chaos. The following two weeks will be hectic because I’ll have to try to get rid of what little furniture is left, find a storage unit and move my stuff into it. And, of course, look for a room to rent.

When I first found out about the sale, I had an adrenalized few moments when I realized how imminent the future is. (Though technically, the future for all of us is eternally imminent and comes relentlessy at the same pace — one minute at a time.)

But today? I’m not concerned at all.

Many years ago, I saw an episode of “Taxi,” a ridiculous and at times sadistic series staring Danny DeVito that I couldn’t see the point of. (To be honest, I can’t see the point of most television, so that’s nothing new. It’s why I never watch TV. Well, except for last night. Someone mentioned that “Dancing with the Stars” was on, and I wanted to see what the hoopla was about. Didn’t see the point of that show either. People dance and other people rate them. Ho hum.)

Anyway, in the episode of “Taxi” I watched, one of the drivers who had poor English rented a fabulous place. He thought he was paying rent for a year and about died of shock when he realized it was just for a month. So what happened? He and all his Taxi buddies made use of that house for the month, really lived it up. The idea of such an all-then-nothing gesture really captured the imaginations of both Jeff and me. We called the experience “taxi-ing it” and often talked about doing something totally out of character by spending our savings on some extravagant gesture — a lake house for the summer, perhaps, or a trip to Norway.

It was all talk.secret Neither of us ever had the courage or foolhardiness to do such a thing because we knew the truth. At the end of the month, we’d be broke, maybe even destitute. And besides, there was his ill health. All our savings went to pay our living expenses during his protracted dying.

But this last month here in this enormous, almost new house, I’ll have to opportunity to taxi it — enjoy the space, the quiet neighborhood, the fantastic view, the nearness to the desert and the dance studio with no regard for the future.

And when the month is over, well . . . Shhh. I’ll tell you a secret. I love not knowing what I will do. I love not caring. I love taking it a day at a time. I love believing that, one way or another, things will work out.

When I am ejected from this house, the world will be at my disposal. I’m looking forward to seeing what mischief I can get myself into. And oh, I will be so disappointed in myself if I don’t find more ways of taxi-ing it.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light BringerMore Deaths Than OneA Spark of Heavenly Fireand Daughter Am IBertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

8 Responses to “Shhh. I’ll Tell You a Secret”

  1. rami ungar the writer Says:

    Go on a road trip! Come out and visit me!

  2. sumalama Says:

    I’ll tell you a secret…it WILL all work out!

  3. Wanda Says:

    You’re in a particular place, in time and in your life, where you have no responsibilities and could truly taxi-it with little or real-life consequences. I hope you find something exciting to do, something that will rev your engines.

  4. Constance Says:

    You look happy now. Wish you the best in whatever you decide to do. In away envious of you too.


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