SOAP & WATER

      Cynthia sat numb at the small kitchen table, her hands gripping the white stoneware coffee mug. She stared into the cooling cream colored liquid. Tears rolled down her face. Angry and hurt she wiped away the tears. The thought of going to the funeral home made her uncomfortable. However, obligations and responsibilities made it necessary for her to attend the viewing.
     She glanced out the window at the snow covered ground. What she wanted most was to ignore the grief she felt. Her thoughts returned to the man about to be buried. With the old man's passing, the wonderment of life itself was gone. Fighting the urge to cry, she smiled. She remembered her grandfather's knack of making her childhood easier. This gave her some comfort.
     Her thoughts were interrupted by soft footsteps. Her ten year old daughter, Ann entered the room.
     "Mom, what'er ya thinkin' 'bout?"
      "Grandpa, Ann. Just grandpa."
     "Yea, me too. I'm gonna miss him."
      "Come here sweetheart." Giving her daughter a slight hug she pointed to the empty chair beside her. "Let me tell you about your great grandpa. More than once he got your Aunt Iris and I in a lot of trouble."
      As memories of the old man filled her thoughts, she smiled again. "You know after all these years his visits, and stories remain with me." She paused, "Especially this one in particular."

      "When I was growing up on a farm, the most exciting holiday wasn't Christmas but Thanksgiving. Weeks before that last Thursday in November, we'd started preparing for that one day. For days the house would be filled with the aroma of fresh baked bread, pies, and other special treats. As Thanksgiving approached your Aunt Iris and I would constantly ask your grandma when grandpa Tincknell was coming. Every year, we looked forward to his visit. His visit filled us with excitement and wonder as his stories came to life in our imaginations.
      "You know grandpa was a commercial fisherman for a long time. Well, because of this, his stories and knowledge of sea lore were unmatched. Even his most gullible stories were at times believable to us.
      "The family tradition was that, mom, your grandma, did cooking that day. However, Iris and I being the oldest girls, had the honor of doing the dishes. And that was a lot of dishes for two girls to do."
      "How old were ya mom?
      "Oh about your age." Cynthia glanced at the empty sink. "Maybe it's time to renew that tradition."
      Ann's eyes widened. "Your not gonna make me do dishes Thanksgiving are ya?"
      Cythina chuckled. "No, I wouldn't be that mean."
      Ann let out a sigh of relief. "Good."
      Cythina continued. "Well, Grandpa Tincknell always sat at the kitchen table. He didn't like television, he said, 'It,' meaning the TV, 'rots the brain and the news ain't no damn good'. He liked the smell of fresh bread and the warmth the big kitchen held.
      "You see they didn't have computers, V C R's or video games when I was growing up. So, as with most families, especially those who farmed, the kitchen was the center of family activity.
      "While I got busy clearing the table, Iris fixed grandpa another cup of tea. Grandpa didn't like coffee.
      "Cythina smiled as she recalled her sister's reaction to the mound of dishes waiting for them. "You know, your Aunt Iris was always sneaky. Seeing dishes scattered from the stove to the cupboards, she made her mind up real fast that she was drying them. To keep mom from yelling, at us for fighting, I let her have her way.
      "Squeezing dish soap in the sink, I turned on the hot water. When I dropped the first stack of plates in the water, soapy water splashed all over the cupboard. I don't remember if I laughed at her or not, but after soap suds landed on her face Iris gave me a hard shoved. Grandpa, watching us, chuckled. He got a distant look on his face as he stirred his tea. He waved for us to come over to the table. With a twinkle in his eye, he ask if we wanted to know how he did dishes on his boat. We glanced at the mountain of dirty dishes cluttering the stove and cupboard near the sink. Both of us wanted to put off doing them for as long as possible. We ran over to the table and sat beside him.
      "'I know'd Dorthy says ya gots' ta use hot soapy water and a rag ta clean them dishes. But . . .,' Grandpa paused and lowered his voice. He glanced at the door leading to the living room, as though he was about to tell us a secret that mom wasn't suppose to hear. 'Do ya want ta know how I wash dishes on my boat?'
      "Nodding our heads, we anxiously waiting for him to tell us how we could get out of doing all those dishes. Grandpa grinned and gave us a wink.
      "'Most the time I just toss em in one of my nets and they get clean when I'm fishin'. Well one day, oh 'bout two months ago, I had a lady friend over fer dinner. After we ate she started ta clean off the table. I told her not ta worry. I'd put em in the net before I went ta bed. The fish and tide would have 'em clean by mornin'. I don't know why, but she got mad at me. She asked me if I know'd what soap and water is fer. When I said yes, she told me ta try usin' soap and water on them so's I don't get sick.
      "I looked at her kinda funny, and said I hadn't thought of that before. Takin' her advice, went out on the deck. I whistled and hollered fer Soap, and Water.
      "'Two harbor dogs ran up the gang plank and inta the cabin. When I put them plates on the floor, them thar dogs licked 'em plates clean. I started ta put the plates in the cupboard. That old gal 'bout had a fit. She asked me what I thought I was doin'. I said, puttin' em away, they looked clean ta me. That old gal looked at me like I were a damn fool and stopped off'a my boat. I don't she liked da way I clean, cause I ain't seen her since.'
      "Grandpa glanced out the window then gave us another wink. Blowing on his tea, he shook his head and laughed. Though Iris and I were old enough to know he was spinning another yarn, we looked at the pile of dishes still waiting to be done. We wished we could set the dishes on the back porch and have our dogs do the same thing."
      "Mom ya didn't believe that story did ya?"
      "No, but with dishes piled all over the kitchen it was tempting to try. Remember we didn't have a dishwasher when I was growing up."
      Cythina pushed herself away from the table. She felt better after sharing one of her childhood memories with her daughter. "Well its time to go, everyone's waiting."
      Glancing at her cup, she hoped Ann would remember her great grandfather's love, warmth and imagination. After an odd thought, Cythina frowned slightly. She stopped put her hands on her hips and looked at her daughter. "Oh Ann don't try any of Grandpa Tincknell's ideas on me. I was younger than you when I tried some of them on your grandma. Take my word, they don't work."
      Ann smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "I know. But he told me thin's he didn't tell ya."