Kimbark Chronicles: Second Floor

Kimbark Chronicles: Second Floor

Mother and I continued up the backstairs till they joined the front stairs to show Gof his room.

“We have two telephones.” I boasted proudly.  “The first phone was in that funny room with the back stairs that we just went through with three doors–one from the kitchen, one from the entry hall, and one to the basement stairs. The second phone is right here on the second floor by the linen closet.  It is funny, Sometimes, other people are talking on the phone but they don’t live here.”

My mother added, “Yes, we have a party line but it is not often that other people are on the line.”

I thought to myself, “Well, I will keep on picking up the phone to check to see if someone is on.”

 “Gof, this is our room.” Mother continued.  “We like it as it in in the back and we don’t hear the street cars on 47th street and can watch out the window to see the children in the back yard.”

Gof asked, “What are all those stone pieces in the the backyard by the swing?  They almost look like slabs of marble.”

“Gof, we removed all the marble sinks from the closets. So now most of the bedrooms have two full closets.  Your closet still has a sink in it as it is ceramic.”

Even though I am only a child, I did not like the sinks being taken out and thrown away.  It seemed like pulling out someone’s eye lashes.  They came with the house and they should stay with the house but Mother wanted our house to be modern.

Mother went ahead to show Gof his room at the back of the house.  It was right next to the bathroom with only one door.

“I am glad to have the furniture.  All I have in that department are my phonograph and records.” Gof commented.

“Yes, this was my brother Tommy’s room but now he will have the middle bedroom.  Let’s show Gof Tommy’s new room.”

Tommy was with us but was a bit shy and very quiet.  But then he was only four years old.

“See, Tommy gets to have a fireplace in his room and this big closet.  We love to climb up the shelves and it is a pretty good place to hide.  And this bathroom goes between Tommy’s new room and Mother and Dad’s room. This bedroom has four doors.  One from the hall, one to the closet, one to the bathroom and one to the guest room.”

Mother showed Gof the guest room which was usually occupied.

Mother responded, “That is the door to the third floor apartment.  When we bought the house, we agreed that the former owners could have use of the apartment for five years.”

“How much space is up there?” Gof asked.

  “A bedroom, bathroom, living room and dining room.”

“We can’t go up there.  Mother told us it is off limits.” I added.

As we went down the stairs, Gof stated.  “Well, I will go to the car and get my things.  You won’t mind if I play my music.  I have really missed listening to the classics.”

After Gof moved in, my introduction to symphony music began.  He played it in the mornings and evenings.  At times, the house would shake and that was when my true love of music began.


NaBloPoMo November 2014

2 thoughts on “Kimbark Chronicles: Second Floor”

  1. I love these written pièces: you have a sure gift of narrative: the child(I recognize you easily) disliking the sinks being taken away for in her mind, so imaginative, they seemed like eyelashes…. was this the same house you returned to after France? Your art is more and more prolific: you are fearless. I cannot paint, Janet: part of a depression which began some months back: but I can write. Painting touches deeper into us than writing does for it is from (I believe) the subconscious. Solitude is not for me. I need enough to create: but this has been too hard. I depend on visits. They are few. I remember you told me something so valuable: “you don ‘t need anyone else to complete you; you are whole, integral” pray you are right love you write well Dorothy

    Date: Sun, 23 Nov 2014 08:26:49 +0000 To:

    1. No, the Kimbark house is in Chicago. Where I returned after France was to Beulah, Colorado. I will probably have some stories from that house as well. Houses for me are like frames for paintings. So sorry about your depression. I am glad you are enjoying my tales. Get back to writing and painting soon. Try some themes–pick your own or here are a few suggestions: My favorite place to be; What I like about a rainy day; Hilarious moment from the present, past or future.

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