Chapter 19
Pat looked like he thought he
really had me now. He kept that same expression while we were eating dinner.
Excuse me. He kept it while we were eating supper.
Supper was leftovers from dinner and it still tasted good.
All that swimming and walking had made me very hungry.
"Are you done with the sideboard, Papa?" asked
Jerome, who looked about 8 or 9.
"I'll finish the carving on Monday for sure," he
answered.
"So you just need tomorrow and Monday?" I asked.
"Tomorrow's Sunday, Michael," Uncle Peter said.
"I know. Sir."
"No working on Sunday."
"Oh."
"You sure you're a Catholic?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"A Roman Catholic?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you know there's no unnecessary servile work on
Sunday. Taking care of the animals and that's about it."
"Michael here had to work on Sundays, didn't you,
Michael?" Pat asked me. "I mean, when you were in vaudeville."
"That was necessary," Charlie said.
"Do you have any plans, Michael?" Aunt Mary asked
me. "You're welcome to stay, of course, but I was just wondering."
"I think I'll head for home in about a week," I
said. I hoped so. "I'd like to stay here till next Saturday. If that's all
right with you."
"Of course, it is, laddy," Uncle Peter said.
"With you we've got our own entertainment."
I wasn't sure if he meant because Charlie had said I was in
vaudeville or if he meant because I kept saying things that sounded so stupid to
them.
"And," Uncle Peter continued, "after we finish
eating we expect a little show. You'll be singing for your supper here,
Michael."
"He's getting a cold," Charlie said.
"Shouldn't have gone swimming. It's getting worse."
"Let me see," Aunt Mary said. She stood up and came
over to me. She put her hand on my forehead and then made me say "Ahh"
while she looked at my throat. "Fit as a fiddle," she decided.
"Castor oil," Pat said. "What he needs is
castor oil."
"That's the last thing he needs," Sissie said and
Uncle Peter told her to hush.
While Aunt Mary and the girls did the dishes, using water
that had been heated on the wood stove in the summer kitchen, Uncle Peter and
the two older boys went out to check on the animals.
"Since we have company," Aunt Mary said, "I
believe we'll use the parlor this evening."
"Is it all right if I show Michael the rest of the
house?" Charlie asked and she nodded. "Come on," he said to me.
First he led me out to the summer kitchen. It looked a lot
like the other kitchen only it was smaller and it had a little table. The main
part of the house was the regular kitchen, a dining room ("Which we never
use," Charlie said.) and a parlor.
A parlor, I discovered, is a living room. There was a sofa, a
couple of stuffed chairs, a piano and some end tables with weird lamps on them.
"How do these work?" I asked, pointing to the
lamps.
"Kerosene," Charlie said.
Then he led me upstairs. There were three bedrooms. One for
the boys, one for the girls and one for Uncle Peter and Aunt Mary and Francis.
"Let's go, boys," I heard a man call up the stairs.
"We're waiting for you." It sounded just like Dad.
"Coming, Pa," Charlie answered. "Look at
this," he said, opening the top drawer of his dresser. He pulled out an old
sock, a clean one. Inside it was about two dozen marbles. "I got 12 of
these this morning for my birthday," he said. "One for each year. Get
it?"
"Uh huh."
That was it? Twelve lousy marbles?
"You play?" he asked.
"Play?"
"Marbles."
"Uh, no."
"It's a fun game," he said.
Marbles was a game?
"Look at this one," he said. It was clear glass
with streaks of red, white and blue in it. "This is my best one," he
said.
"BOYS!"
We headed downstairs and everyone else was in the parlor.
They were on their knees, facing the sofa and the chairs. Aunt Mary nodded at
the door and Charlie reached around back and took two rosaries from the door
knob. He handed one to me and then he knelt down. I did, too.
For the next 15 minutes or so we said the rosary together. I
was familiar with all those prayers, of course, and I thought Uncle Peter looked
a little relieved when he saw that I knew how to answer.
When we were done praying, Pat said to me, "First you
juggle and then you sing."
"He hurt his hand," Charlie said. "Something
fierce. 'Bout broke it clean off swimming."
But Pat wasn't listening. He had gone out into the kitchen.
He returned with three red apples.
"His back!" Charlie said. "He hurt his back,
too."
"Well, Michael, it sounds as if you're falling
apart," Uncle Peter said.
"The show must go on," I answered and Charlie
groaned. Everyone sat down as I took the three apples. I walked over by the
piano and I said, "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all
ages..."
"Just like the circus," Sean said. "I hope you
don't plan on doing handstands on a horse in here."
And then -- much to almost everyone's delight, Charlie's
surprise and Pat's dismay -- I juggled. I did a regular underhand juggle. I did
it large. I did it small. I did it over the top. I did two apples with one hand
and then switched and did two apples with the other. Then I went back to a
regular underhand with three apples and ended up tossing one to Pat, one to
Charlie and one to Sissie. I bowed and they clapped and I felt wonderful.
Sissie immediately began eating hers.
Then I sat down at the piano. It's funny how things work out.
Last winter I had sprained my ankle right in the middle of basketball season and
I could only hobble around and so Dad bought me three juggling balls and a book
on how to juggle.
I had practiced that because I couldn't play ball.
And Mom... Ever since I was in second grade Mom had insisted
I take piano lessons. At first they were okay, then I hated them and, recently,
with a new teacher, I had learned something besides stuff by Mozart or some
other guy who has been dead for a million years.
So I decided to use the same piece I used for the spring
talent show at school. I started with Mozart and Uncle Peter and Aunt Mary
looked pleased and everyone else looked bored. Then after just a little bit of
that, I switched into a rock and roll classic sung by Jerry Lee Lewis:
"Great Balls of Fire."
I couldn't do it as well as he did, of course, but I could
bang it out pretty loud and then I started singing, too, and everyone was
clapping and the littlest kids started jumping around.
When I got done, Uncle Peter said, "Goodness!"
Aunt Mary said, "Gracious!"
And all the kids shouted, "Great balls of fire!"
All except Sissie. She was just standing there. She looked as
if she wanted to cough but she couldn't. Her hands were up at her throat. She
looked scared. Her eyes fluttered and then she fell to the floor.
Go to Chapter 20.
