RAY OF SUNSHINE

The multi-colored row houses on Baker Street in Kansas, or “Dullsville,” a popular nickname for the area, look so surreal it’s as if the street’s dwellings came out of a housing factory. Each house even has the same sculpted evergreen bushes in front, a garage door on the right side, and the same bold house numbers on every front stoop. Inside number 172, the pale yellow house on the corner, recently remarried Ray Prescott, is exhausted from working overtime every day for the past few weeks. Looking like Santa Claus on the day after Christmas, a shaving cream covered Ray is in the bathroom attempting to shave his overgrown beard. He’s peering into the bathroom mirror as if he's actually looking into his future. “Damn it!” grumbled Ray as he nicked himself with the pink plastic shaver. Almost in sync, a loud female’s voice in the background echoes back, "Damn it, Ray… are you using my shaver again? You're late, and the trash needs to be taken to the curb. The garbage man's coming…empty that stinky poopy cat box! It's overflowing again. Make sure to put the trash lid on tight this time…" His wife’s voice fades out in slow motion.

The family’s calico cat is purring and rubbing herself on Ray's hairy legs as he’s trying to dress for work. Ray is hurriedly putting on his usual gray dress pants and straightens his bright yellow striped tie at the same time. He bends down to pick up the fuming cat box, when... “Riiiipppp!!” There go his pants. Ray throws on another pair of pants and gives it another go. He picks up the smelly cat box with one hand while plugging his nose with the other finally dumping it in the trash while hastily placing the lid on the can.

As Ray drags the stinky can to the curb, as if in slow motion, the wind catches the lid. It sails up, up and away towards the neighbor’s driveway. The rarely seen but heard garbage man has just dropped the neighbor’s empty can on his yard while desperately trying to dodge the path of the flying lid. Before he knows it, “Bam”! The garbologist gets hit in the head with the lid, loses his balance and falls on his face. Picking himself up, along with the lid, he angrily throws the windblown lid back towards Ray like a world champion frisbee thrower. It lands back in Ray’s yard with a loud thump. Ray grabs his mail out of the overly stuffed mailbox, shrugs his shoulders and mouths the word, “SORRY” to the garbage man and quickly runs back up the driveway.

Back inside at the breakfast table, Ray thumbs through the pile of mail. “Hmmm, bill, bill, bill… What’s this big yellow envelope?” he asks himself out loud. He grabs some toast, spreads jam on it and takes a huge bite. A big drop of gooey jam lands smack dab in the middle of his necktie. He rips open the yellow envelope to find a little black book with “Municipal Bank'' inscribed on the cover in gold lettering along with a business type of letter. Being in a hurry, he slipped the folded letter inside the pages of the little black book and threw it in his briefcase slamming it shut.

“I’ll read this when I get to work,” he mumbled to himself.

Next to him, his baby boy is sitting in a high chair screaming. Food is scattered all over. The baby hiccups and suddenly projectile vomits in Ray’s direction. It ends up all over Ray's jacket. “Oh, this is just great,” complains Ray. “BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEEEP!”… screams the fire alarm. The toaster is spewing out a gray cloud. His wife, who’s still tending to the massive piles of laundry in the other room, yells, "Ray - you still here? Toast is burning, can you get that, Ray?”

The radio is blaring and a reporting voice exclaims, "It's going to be a rainy gray day, but here's a tune to get you going this morning!" A reggae tune fades in. Ray stops what he’s doing, smiles and starts dancing. His kid laughs. “RAY! You’re gonna be late!” screams his wife from the other room. Ray quickly uses a napkin to blot the jam on his tie and removes the puke-ridden jacket and chucks it into the trash can. His wife exclaims again to Ray, “It's getting late...And OH! We need diapers too!" Ray looks at his watch, grabs his coffee and briefcase and runs out the door.

Ray’s life is like a movie clip on a constant loop. As usual, Ray is sitting in his chair at his desk which is piled high with papers. Ray thinks to himself as he looks at his cluttered desk. To him, it’s as if he’s looking at a steaming pile of something else. He sighs heavily and starts thumbing through the pile. A co-worker enters his office and walks up to the window next to his desk and remarks, "It smells like burnt toast in here!" Ray's eyes plead with hers not to do it. With a quick turn, like a well-trained ballet dancer with a great ballon, she opens the window. With a loud “whoosh” a damp gusty wind blows the papers up into the air. As they waft to the floor, the co-worker says matter-of-factly, "Well it's about time you cleaned up your desk! What exactly is it that you do anyway?” She lets out a few chuckles and says, “Have a nice day!” as she shuffles back out into the hallway.

Sadly, and almost giving up, a depressed looking Ray kneels down on the floor as if he’s stuck in a big mud puddle of doom. As he knelt down to try to pick up his papers, his second pair of pants ripped. Under his breath Ray complains to himself, “I’ve got to lose some weight…” As he helplessly tries to reorganize his work papers, he discovers a travel brochure hidden at the bottom of the pile. Ray smiles. In a daydreaming daze he can see himself laying in the sun, relaxing on the beach that’s pictured on the cover of the fancy brochure. The roar of the surf echoes in his brain. He imagines himself with a beautiful woman in a big floppy sun hat sipping a drink and laughing out loud.

Ray’s daydream fizzles out as he is abruptly interrupted by his annoying boss calling his name from the intercom on his desk, "Hello, RAY? Are you in there?” Ray ignores it, opens his briefcase and looks down at the little black book. He opens it, and then quickly skims the letter. A feeling of sadness washed over him, followed by a foot-long smile on his face as he slipped the folded vacation brochure and the letter inside of the black book and placed it carefully in his briefcase and set it on his desk. He can think of far better things to do rather than listen to his barking boss right now... “Earth to RAY!? I did not see you there. Get up off the floor and meet me in the conference room, right away,” exclaimed his boss who was now peering into the office from the doorway.

In the corporate meeting room, his boss sternly points to a chart with a red jagged line sloping downward that's clipped to an easel. A sour look forms on the boss's face as he pounds at the chart with his fat pointer finger and starts to babble… “Blah, blah… gotta get the ball rolling Ray… You got to do your job, Ray…blah, blah... if we don't get better numbers soon…” Ray’s barely listening as his daydreaming fades back and forth from reality to beach scene… "OK, boss, I'm working on it..." Ray confirms. “Now let’s get to work!” exclaims his underworked and overpaid boss.

Ray runs back into his office, picks up his briefcase from his desk and leaves the building. With almost a childish skip to his stride, Ray is walking down the main drag and enters the Municipal Bank. While standing in line for what seemed forever, the teller finally calls out to Ray, “NEXT!” It’s Ray’s turn! He fumbles with the little black bank book again and scribbles on the withdrawal slip an amount made to “cash”. Ray smiles at the teller as he hands her the book, letter and slip. She reads the letter, and smiles back. She stamps the back of the slip and the black book a few times and finally hands Ray a big fat envelope. Ray does a quick pivot and heads out the bank’s doors. Outside, the gloomy shades of gray immediately turn to a vibrant rainbow of color. “I don’t think I’m in Kansas anymore,” Ray chuckles to himself as he taps the little black book three times and puts it safely away.

As if fleeing from his overwhelming responsibilities, Ray drives back home like a race car driver on speed. Inside, he hastily packs a few small bags. His cat is purring at his legs as he struggles with them. Ray runs into the kitchen, grabs a yellow note pad and pen from the counter. He scribbles on it and sticks it smack dab in the middle of the door of the fridge. He picks up one of his boy's pacifiers he finds, looks at it, smiles, and then stuffs it in his pocket. While locking the front door, he has a dumbfounded look on his face. Ray tosses the bags in the backseat and drives into the distance...

The next day, a woman in a light blue rust speckled Toyota Hatchback drives up Ray’s driveway. Wearing a plain light blue dress with a pink headband that holds back her dark brown hair, the woman enters the house. She enters the kitchen and starts to vacuum the floor. Surprisingly, she spots Ray’s note on the fridge. It reads, "Mary, couldn't take it, left for the Bahamas. Won't be needing you anymore." She leaves the house taking the cat with her. There’s a magnetic label on the passenger door that has a logo consisting of a vacuum cleaner and type that reads, “Mary's Maid Service.” She puts the cat in the front seat, slams the car door and drives into the distance...

The ocean’s surf is crashing onto the beach. The palm trees brimming with coconuts rustle as they blow in the wind. Seagulls squawk their greetings as they fly overhead. The look on Ray’s clean-shaven face reveals a look of contentment. Wearing only a light blue speedo, he is comfortably laid out on a beach chair, sipping from a bottle of beer. A pleasant female voice exclaims a happy long sigh. Sitting in a lounge chair next to him, she’s wearing big black Jackie O’ sunglasses and an oversized brimmed sun hat that shades her face. She grabs his hand and says, “Oh Rayyyyy, my true love. This is the best! So unlike you to be so spontaneous! Tell me, how can we afford all of this?”

Ray replied, “Sadly, my Aunt Ginnie from out west passed away last week from a long illness. With me being her closest relative, she left me a good-sized chunk of her estate! I wanted to surprise you just as much as it surprised me! No more stress! We can do whatever we want now!” The happy couple smiled, kissed, and in unison breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Ray’s cell phone lets out a reggae-sounding ringtone. The caller’s name on the screen reads, “Boss”... He turns the phone off, and tosses it in the sand. Softly giggling, their little boy has a pacifier in his mouth and is playing with a pail in the sand at their feet. The sun is going down and the tide is coming in.