Hopeless Sam

04 The Names

Part I Autumn

Joanie was a sweet little old lady but when she got to talking she was like a loose-lipped drunken sailor. She sat in the corner of the darkroom rambling about how another maid she called Leticia had turned Mrs. Walsh's finest silk sheets pink. She spoke with such disdain but I wasn't sure if it was towards the washing machine or Leticia. Joanie was infamous for washing all the Walsh children's clothes with a good old-fashioned washing board and sink, claiming the devilish machines ruined the colors. Perhaps that's why they always looked like they were wearing new clothes. 

Joanie had originally come into Kathy's bathroom which we had turned into a makeshift darkroom to clean, but as we were using it and Kathy was very tidy she had decided to tag along and let us hear about her stressful day. Kathy was happy to let Joanie vent because she was like a mother to her and though the conversation wasn't relevant we listened intently as Joanie complained about the daily household mishaps. 

Kathy and I stood side by side as we cut and dipped picture after picture in the developer and then hung them onto the drying line. Joanie was sitting in the corner behind us, her soft voice filled the room as she told us a new story, the clacking of knitting needles accompanied her soft voice. 

"This one's the last roll" I smile as I cut the pictures from the cassette, "Hopefully one of these is nice, my hands are sore from cutting all these pictures". Kathy chuckled a little bit and pointed at one of the pictures that was already developing nicely. I finished cutting the last photo and passed it to Kathy to develop. 

As she worked I stepped back from the counter to examine each of the photos as they slowly started to appear. The calm room was disrupted when all of a sudden Joanie's voice stopped, and the sound of her knitting needles clattering to the ground replaced her story. 

"Sangre, beun señor eso es mucha sangre" She exclaimed, both Kathy and I spun around to see the old Spanish woman with her hands clasped over her mouth. She had stood up from her chair and was pointing at one of the pictures as it slowly developed. 

The short elder woman reached for the photo but wasn't tall enough to pull it down, instead, she began sobbing louder and muttering in Spanish. 

"What is it, Joanie?" I ask plucking the photo from the drying line. Kathy walked over to me and pulled the gloves from her hands letting them drop to the ground in shock as if she recognized something too. 

"Joanie, what do you see?" I ask her again. The photo was of the same view of the wall we had first seen, the giant orange and pink flowers with white highlights and deep red shadows with the fancy script strategically placed into the painting. Kathy took the photo from my hand and held it up to her face in the red light to inspect it. After a few moments, she held it out for Joanie to take. 

The usually calm and composed Joanie was hysterical, and the fact that we didn't understand her seemed to make it worse. She tried to elaborate but all that came out was strangled noises and Spanish so fast it sounded like gibberish. 

"Mi Bebe, Ana" She cried, taking the photo in her shaking hand. I had never seen sweet old Joanie act so emotional. She pointed a wavering finger to a larger flower trying to show us something. 

Kathy patted Joanie on the shoulder, "Keep it, I'm sure mother wouldn't mind if you retired early." She gave the elderly woman a hug before turning back to me. I gave her a questioning look, "I'll explain later help me clean this up and we'll go to yours before my mother hunts me down and tries to make me watch those etiquette videos again!" She smiled like normal as if she hadn't just had a freakout with Joanie. As we pulled the drying photos down I watched Kathy examine a few of the photos before slipping them into her sweater pocket.