I finished the tea and called the kids down, and they never knew I’d been gone. My nine-year-old, Sammy, came down the stairs his usual way. Sideways, both hands on the rail, hopping with both feet from step to step so hard his dark blond hair bounced as he came.
“Cut that out, would you?” I said. “You’re shaking the whole house.”
“Okay,” he said, but he didn’t stop. He finished off the stairs that way. JoAnn came down a few moments later, taking the steps the way you were supposed to, but talking as she came. “Daddy, Sammy called me a turd and he hit me too.”
“Well, don’t do that, Sammy,” I said. “Listen up, kids. We’re going to go out to eat. I want you two to go brush your teeth… No. I want Sammy to go brush his teeth, and JoAnn, you go to your room and we’ll lay you out some clothes.”
We went into her room, dodging stuffed toys and kicking mounds of scissored paper scraps aside. I picked out a dress for her. She said, “Daddy, I don’t want a dress.”
“When I pick out pants you want a dress,” I said.
She shook her long, red hair. “Please, Daddy?”
“All right.” kAlllon
We picked out a shirt with a dog on it and some jeans.
I left her to dress, told her I’d be back to help her put on her socks, then I went to check on Sammy in the bathroom. I made him quit playing with his toothbrush and finally got him to get down to what he was supposed to do, and when that was done, we went to his room and waded through toys and books and got him some clean jeans and a flannel shirt out of the closet.
“Wear your slip-on tennis shoes,” I said, digging a pair of socks out of his sock drawer.
“I don’t know where they are, “ he said.
“Well, look for them.”
“I can’t find them.”
“You haven’t looked. Get down and look under the bed.”
“They’re not under there.”
“How do you know? You haven’t looked.”
The phone rang.
“You look while I answer that,” I said.
I caught the phone on the third ring. “Hello.”
“Uncle Hank. I’m scared.”
“Hey, I just left you.”
“It seems like a long while, and I just got this feeling things are going to get worse.”
“Take it easy,” I said. I looked up the stairs to see if Beverly were coming down.
The coast was still clear.
I pulled the phone antenna all the way out and went into the kitchen.
“You’re safe right now,” I said. “I’ll come up with something, I promise. I’m going to take Bev and the kids out to eat, then break it to her I got to go back and see you. When she’s hungry, she’s not in a good mood. Try to talk to her then, it’s like talking to a bear. I’ll probably have to sit through the movie we rented too.”
“Christ! Why don’t you just make it a double feature?”
“Lighten up a little. I want to have all my ducks in a row before I burden her with this. I’ll be over soon enough.”
“All right. Whatever.”
“You’re okay. Trust me. The worst is over.”
“You really think so?”
“I do. Now, I got to go help Sammy find his shoes.”
“Uncle Hank…? Don’t forget the cigarettes, okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
I went back and found Sammy’s shoes. They were lying in plain sight. I left him putting them on and went to hurry JoAnn along. She had the dress on, of course.
Don’t let anyone ever tell you different. Kids are wonderful, but they’re contrary as hell by nature.
Dogs are only a little better.
I hooked Wylie on his leash and took him out to do his business. By the time he was through and we were back inside, Beverly was ready. She came downstairs, her hair brushed into a thick, red brillo mane, and said, “Let’s go.”
8
We went to a hamburger joint where the kids got junk toys in a cardboard box along with a lame hamburger that could be distinguished in taste and texture from the box only by a taint of mustard and hint of grease. The french fries were so well cooked they were more like eating potato sticks. The soft drinks were mostly ice.
Damnedest thing was, we’d be back next week.
Bev asked me what the score was with Bill. I didn’t lie, I just sort of avoided the truth.
“Bill doesn’t want money this time?” Beverly asked. “What’s wrong? He sick?”
“He could use a little money,” I said. “Fifty dollars or so… Sammy, would you watch what you’re doing? You’re getting ketchup on my sleeve.”
“Sorry, Daddy,” Sammy said. He went right back to squirting ketchup haphazardly out of the little package that came with the meal.
“Fifty dollars!” Beverly said. “That’s it? I thought maybe he had an armadillo farm he wanted you to invest in. Or perhaps a bee ranch.”
“Not this time. He just got himself in a jam.”
“What kind of jam?”
“Well… Sammy, you’ve got it on my sleeve, son. Would you move over a bit?”
“Sorry, Daddy… What you looking at?”
“What?” I said.
“Not you, Daddy. JoAnn. She’s looking at me. She goes like this.”
Sammy showed me how she went. It was a pretty ugly face.
“I did not,” said JoAnn. “He kicked me under the table.”
“Oh, for Christsake,” I said. “Would you two quit?”
“You and your sister have to stop this,” Beverly said. “Every time we go out, we go through this. It’s silly. You’re old enough to know better. It’s embarrassing. I want you to stop this minute.”
They didn’t, but for once I was glad. The subject of Bill’s jam didn’t come up again.
We finished and drove home, listening to the kids fight in the back of the van. By the time we got to the house, they had broken the toys from the hamburger joint, and as usual, left them on the floorboard along with past disasters.
I shuffled around the house nervously while Beverly read the news n ugly facpaper and the kids watched a cartoon show. When they finished that, the plan was we were going to watch the movie we’d rented.
I leashed Wylie and took him out the back so I could stop off on the back porch and get a pair of old paint- stained pants, some torn boxer shorts, and a flannel shirt out of the Goodwill box, and carry them out to my truck.
After Wylie did his business, I went upstairs, got a couple of shampoo samples Beverly had saved from motels, some shaving cream and stuff, and put them in my coat pocket.
I went downstairs. When I passed Beverly in the living room, I said, “I’m going to go out and clean up after Wylie. He left a big calling card.”
She slowly looked over the top of her paper. She wasn’t somebody who got much wool pulled over her eyes. “Thanks for sharing that,” she said.
“Sorry,” I said. “It was a real big one.”
