It Was a Surprise

It was a tool shed at the end of a driveway. Not even a garage. It had one window and a door that locked. Hugh, the guy that owned the house, still kept some tools in there. But Leo had brought in a chair, a cot, and a table. There was also a blanket for his dog, Tiger.

The nearest bathroom was up the back porch stairs and through the kitchen. Leo tried to keep his journeys there to a minimum. He’d receive visitors at the end of the driveway. Certain individuals still consulted with him about plumbing or electrical issues they were having. Leo wasn’t certified, but he was known as an expert. If the problem sounded complicated, Leo would go to the person’s house; for this, he charged money. For a consultation, he charged nothing. He (and Tiger) enjoyed the company, especially if the person brought a joint to share.

Leo’s wife had died some years ago, in her sleep. It was a surprise; she hadn’t been sick. They were both in their fifties when it happened, and Helen was the one working full-time. Nothing had been completely paid for, so Leo was in a fix, without a steady job, and with a lot of music stuff to store. He sold the house back to the bank and got a storage unit, but he couldn’t sleep there, so he couch-surfed until Hugh, a fellow musician he’d often jammed with, told him he could stay in the tool shed. It became Leo's headquarters. He called it the “guest house.”

Hugh and Kate were often traveling, so Leo had the place to himself sometimes, but he didn’t take advantage. He’d shower more often, or watch television in the den. But Tiger was not allowed into the main house, and Tiger would bark for him, so he’d soon be back in the tool shed where he had nothing but his cell phone, some books, and one old electric guitar and amp. He’d been in so many bands he couldn’t remember them all. He played lead guitar, but did not sing. The problem was, he wouldn’t follow instructions when it came to music, so he’d go off on tangents or play too long or fail to memorize the chords of songs he didn’t like. He was damn good, though. Just not a team player. Back in the day, Helen had soon realized that Leo wasn’t going to be bringing home the bacon, so she took up the slack. He was clever, funny, loving, could fix anything in the house, and was a pretty good car mechanic as well.

He wasn’t feeling so loving lately. Or clever. Or funny. He was feeling tired, and an old “war wound” (an injury from a motorcycle accident) was acting up. He was limping around like a cartoon pirate, and he had no health insurance. Then he met Lori at a local trivia game. She knew everything musical about the 80s. He knew everything musical about the 70s. They made a good team. She had been stranded in Leo’s town because of Hurricane Katrina. She juggled several part-time jobs, and seemed to understand his situation. She couldn’t help him financially, but she could give him affection and attention.

He wouldn’t stay at her apartment, though, because of Tiger. The night he talked her into staying in the “guest house” with him, it was cold, and they snuggled under a thin quilt. The cot was too small. Every move they made was awkward. And yet they managed to “get it on.” Leo felt loving again. And clever. And funny. That night, he died in his sleep.

It was a surprise; he hadn’t been sick. He was in his sixties by then. Lori was shocked, but went immediately to “the big house” to tell Hugh and Kate, and in the next few days they discovered that Leo owed money for the storage unit and would never have gotten his guitar collection back; his deteriorating hip would have cost thousands to fix; he was estranged from his two brothers; he hadn’t had a home repair job in months; and he’d been drinking vodka in the “guest house” almost every night to deal with the pain of his damaged hip. Yet when they threw a memorial party in the backyard, dozens of friends and acquaintances, new and old, showed up. Hugh played a surprisingly beautiful blues solo on Leo’s old guitar.

They were able to find a home for Tiger. A young couple at the memorial party took a liking to the aging animal.

It was a while before Lori went back to the trivia game, but when she did, she met Oscar, who was also a refugee from Hurricane Katrina. "We all live in a 'guest house' one way or another," Lori told him. He seemed to understood her situation.

— Macoff