Free And Laughter Fell From the Sky by Jyotsna Sreenivasan Page B

watching Wheel of Fortune .
    “Mom, Dad, Adios is here,” Chris called.
    Mrs. Haldorson padded over in her fluffy bedroom slippers, with Mr. Haldorson behind her, leaning on a cane. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “Great to see you, honey.” She turned him so he faced the lighted kitchen, and looked at him. “You haven’t changed,” she declared. “He’s the same, isn’t he, Steve?” she said to her husband.
    Mr. Haldorson shifted his cane to his left hand and held out his right hand. “Good to see you,” he said. He was a shorter, older version of Chris, and Abhay was startled by his apparent ill health. Mr. Haldorson had for years coached the baseball team at the high school.
    Chris’s room was even more crammed with stuff than it had been in high school. His double bed took up most of the floor space, but around it were stacks of cardboard boxes. In one corner was a desk with a computer. The desk was clean except for an upright rack of file folders. On a bookshelf next to the bed were displayed a variety of porcelain figurines—horses, dogs, cats, dancing ladies, praying children, a fat chef next to a wine barrel—all clean and free of dust. Abhay hadn’t known that Chris collected figurines.
    “What’s with the boxes?” Abhay asked. “You moving out?”
    “I sell stuff on eBay.” He tossed his thick bangs out of his eyes, just as he used to do in high school.
    “You make money that way?”
    “Yeah. It’s not bad. It’s something we can do as a family.”
    “So your parents are involved, too?”
    “Dad’s on disability now. He’s had a couple of strokes.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that,” Abhay murmured.
    “Yeah, it’s been scary, but at least the house is paid off, so we’re not desperate for cash. Mom and Dad scout out estate sales, and Mom’s even set up a little sideline where we help people clean out all the junk in their house, and organize things, and in exchange we get to keep anything we want to sell. And Dad’s an expert about old tools. But I’m the brains of the operation. You’d be amazed how much difference it makes just to keep on top of things.”
    Abhay sat down on the bed. He remembered how Chris had trouble keeping his homework organized in high school. He’d dropped out of college after a semester; he just wasn’t interested. And then he spent what seemed like years bumming around, working here and there.
    “My uncles give me a hard time because I’m still living at home.” Chris sat down next to Abhay and peered at his fat hands. “But Mom and Dad don’t mind. I take care of things around the house, and we have fun together.”
    “That’s great, Chris,” Abhay said. “You’re being a good Indian son, living at home and taking care of your parents.”
    “Yeah. Too bad my uncles aren’t Indian.”
    “So how’d you get into this?” Abhay waved his hand at all the boxes.
    “I had a job for a while with an estate sale company. I got them started doing eBay sales, and then I went out on my own. Hey, what’re you doing, Adios, now that you’re home?”
    Abhay wondered whether to ask Chris not to call him “Adios.” He’d successfully left this nickname behind since he’d graduated from high school. He decided to let it pass.
    “You looking for work?” Chris persisted.
    “I’m temping now.” Abhay didn’t want to say that he’d just quit temping.
    “I need someone to help take photos to post, and to pack stuff up to send out. You interested?”
    “Um. Maybe.” Abhay glanced at the shelf of figurines. “These are for sale?” Abhay picked up a little statue of a brown woman wearing a gold and blue sari blouse and loose pants, and sitting in lotus posture, palms in prayer position. “I had no idea there were yoga statues. What does this go for?”
    “There’s a whole set of them.” Chris picked up another brown woman doing a backbend. “I’m selling them for $29.95 each, free shipping, but if you’re interested I can