Eternally Unfinished

Excerpt from: CHAPTER FIVE CROSSING THE THRESHOLD OF THE ONLY HOUSE The Only House was situated on one of the streets that gently depend from the southern shoulder of Castro Hill like loops of decorative jewelry. Its designers had learned from the clever instincts of burrowing animals: from hobbits perhaps. The ground floor of the house was slightly elevated above the sidewalk while the basement was partially dug into the slope of the hill. Being on the south side of the street, the front windows of the upper floors faced north and looked up at the neighbors whereas the kitchen porch and backyard were open to sunlight and had a declining view. The Only House did not necessarily stand out among all the other houses in Noe Valley. It was four stories, a bit higher than some. It was long and narrow like many were. It had a touch of decorative hippie paint as some others did: in this case there was a clean red trim along the edges of the grey-painted steps leading to the front door, and the single arched window of the top floor was outlined in bright orange, as were the two windows offset below it, while between those windows a wooden sunburst with eight squiggly rays had been attached and gilded in shining gold paint. The curtains in the wide window of the main floor were subtly shaded in thin silvery cloth depicting a bamboo grove: in certain lights and breezes the bamboos very nearly came alive. On the whole it was a pleasant looking house that seemed to welcome visitors. As the three of them unpacked the car and carried their respective burdens across the street, Noelle directed Jamie's attention to three broad steps that hopped easily downward to the left of the main entrance's grand double doors. She pointed to an ordinary white door at the bottom of the short steps. "The servant's entrance," she joked. "That's us. The first room down there is mine." She indicated an open window lined with small herb pots. "My window." Half of it was below the level of the sidewalk. "After that comes Cate's room, and then the downstairs bath, and finally the Cave, which will be your room, right next to the laundry room. The third and fourth floors belong to Toni Page the landlady, and that's Toni's Domain. So now you know." Noelle led them through the lower door into her room. Jamie stopped momentarily in the doorway, head tilted slightly, searching for the source of that infant music sounding forth at the high edge of the audible. Ahh, there it was, an entire row of tiny wind-bells pinging where they hung suspended above the open window that looked out and up onto the sidewalk. He took a deep breath, recognizing the sharp dry scent of sifted marijuana. On just any old day in Noelle's room you'd get a cluster of scents: Indian sandalwood incense, premium import Japanese green tea kept at low simmer on a bulbous clay pot in the back corner, sweet or sharp Chinatown feng shui candles Metal Wood Earth Water Fire lit by Noelle in various combinations to answer to the needs of the moment, and in all seasons an abundance of fragrant herbs and flowers lining the windowsill. Today though, Jamie was inhaling the heady odor emanating from Noelle's never-empty quart jar of dope with its white sprouting cluster of rolled joints poking up from the heap of thoroughly cleaned weed. A thin thriftstore flowered carpet covered most of the wood floor. In the center of everything a roomy mattress reclined casually, heaped overfull with bright coverlets. The feature that distinguished Noelle's room from the other rooms in the House was her goddess collection displayed on six miniature tables. The tables were short, round and three-legged: one on each side of the window, two flanking the record player, and two at each end of the long Wall of Albums. Each table was painted in its own vivid primary color or colors: whatever was most appealing to its resident goddess. Upon each table rested a shallow bowl. Each bowl held a figurine: the array of female entities Noelle had carefully gathered, the goddesses and warrior women who protected, guided and inspired her. By contrast, the feature that dominated the room was Noelle's Wall of Albums. Directly opposite the door, it drew the eye and looked somewhat like a wall in a music shop. Noting Jamie's gaze, Noelle explained that for some odd reason that she never quite understood, everyone in the House and also many friends in Noe Valley and even from other parts of the city would come over with an album to play and then they would inexplicably leave it there for Noelle to insert randomly somewhere on the Wall, from whence it could never be found again except by purest accident. People would come over, grab an album, leave an album: in a way it was like a music lending library. "Why they all like to come here to listen to music on my mediocre stereo, I don't know," she shrugged, failing to take into account her fabulous hippie-chick persona. "Let's go to Noey's and listen to some tunes," they would say; everyone was in love with her and she was in love with no one and nothing except the city and the times, which was why everyone was in love with her.