by Sewell Ford
CHAPTER XVI
TORCHY GETS THE THUMB GRIP
I expect a lot of people thought it about me; but the one who reallyregistered the idea was Auntie. Trust her. For of course, with an eventof this kind staged in the house we couldn't expect to dodge a visitfrom the old girl. She came clear up from Miami--although, with so muchtrouble about through sleepers and everything, I kept tellin' Vee I wasafraid she wouldn't think it worth while makin' the trip.
"How absurd, Torchy!" says Vee. "Not want to see baby? To be sure, shewill."
You see, Vee had the right hunch from the very first--about theimportance of this new member of the fam'ly, I mean. She took it as amatter of course that everybody who'd ever known or heard of us would beanxious to rush in and gaze awe-struck and reverent at this remarkableaddition we'd made to the population of Long Island. Something likethat. She don't have to work up to it. Seems to come natural. Why, say,she'd sit by and listen without crackin' a smile to these regulargushers who laid it on so thick you'd 'most thought the youngsterhimself would have turned over and run his tongue out at 'em.
"Oh, the dear, darling 'ittle cherub!" they'd squeal. "Isn't he simp-lythe most won-der-ful baby you ev-er saw?"
And Vee would never blink an eye. In fact, she'd beam on 'em grateful,and repeat to me afterwards what they'd said, like it was just a case ofthe vote bein' made unanimous, as she knew it was bound to be all along.
Which wasn't a bit like any of the forty-seven varieties of Vee Ithought I was so well acquainted with. No. I'll admit she'd shown whimsand queer streaks now and then, and maybe a fault or so; but nothingthat had anything to do with any tendency of the ego to stick its elbowsout. Yet, when it comes to listenin' to flatterin' remarks about our sonand heir--well, no Broadway star readin' over what his press-agent hadsmuggled into the dramatic notes had anything on her. She couldn't haveit handed to her too strong.
As for me, I guess I was in sort of a daze there for a week or so.Gettin' to be a parent had been sprung on me so sudden that it was sortof confusin'. I couldn't let on to be a judge of babies myself. I don'tknow as I'd ever examined one real near to before, anyway--not such anew one as this.
And, between me and you, when I did get a chance to size him up realclose once,--they'd all gone out of the room and left me standin' by thecrib,--I was kind of disappointed. Uh-huh. No use kiddin' yourself. Icouldn't see a thing wonderful about him, or where he was much differentfrom others I'd glanced at casual. Such a small party to have so muchfuss made over! Why, one of his hands wasn't much bigger'n a cat's paw.And his face was so red and little and the nose so sketchy that itdidn't seem likely he'd ever amount to much. Here he'd had more'n a weekto grow in, and I couldn't notice any change at all.
Not that I was nutty enough to report any such thoughts. Hardly. I feltkind of guilty at just havin' 'em in my head. How was it, I askedmyself, that I couldn't stand around with my hands clasped and my eyesdimmed up, as a perfectly good parent should when he gazes at his firstand only chee-ild! Wasn't I human?
All the alibi I can put up is that I wasn't used to bein' a father.Ain't there something in that? Just think, now. Why, I'd hardly gotused to bein' married. Here, only a little over a year ago, I wasfloatin' around free and careless. And then, first thing I know, withoutany special coachin' in the act, I finds myself pushed out into thecenter of the stage with the spot-light on me, and I'm introduced as adaddy.
The only thing I could do was try to make a noise like one. I didn'tfeel it, any more'n I felt like a stained-glass saint in a churchwindow. And I didn't know the lines very well. But there was everybodywatching,--Vee, and the nurse, and Madame Battou, and occasionalcallers,--so I proceeds to bluff it through the best I could.
My merry little idea was to be familiar with the youngster, treat him asif he'd been a member of the fam'ly for a long time, and hide anyembarrassin' feelin's I might have by addressin' him loud and joshin'. Iexpect it was kind of a poor performance, at that. But I seemed to begettin' away with it, so I stuck to that line. Vee appears to take itall right, and, as nobody else gave me the call, I almost got to believeit was the real thing myself.
So this particular afternoon, when I came breezin' in from town, Ichases right up to the nursery, where I knew I'd find Vee, gives herthe usual hail just behind the ear, and then turns hasty to the crib toshow I haven't forgot who's there.
"Hello, old sport!" says I, ticklin' him in the ribs. "How you hittin''em, hey? Well, well! Look at the fistses doubled up! Who you goin' tohand a wallop to now? Oh, tryin' to punch yourself in the eye, are you?Come there, you young rough-houser, lay off that grouchy stuff and speaksome kind words to your daddy. You won't, eh? Goin' to kick a littlewith the footsies. That's it. Mix in with all fours, you young----"
And just then I hears a suppressed snort that sounds sort of familiar. Iglances around panicky, and gets the full benefit of a disgusted glarefrom a set of chilled steel eyes, and discovers that there's someonebesides Vee and the nurse present. Yep. It's Auntie.
"May I ask," says she, "if this is your usual manner of greeting youroffspring?"
"Why," says I, "I--I expect it is."
"Humph!" says she. "I might have known."
"Now, Auntie," protests Vee, "you know very well that Torchy means----"
"Whatever he means or doesn't mean," breaks in Auntie, "I am sure hehas an astonishing way of showing parental affection. Calling the childan 'old scout,' a 'young rough-houser'! It's shocking."
"Sorry," says I; "but I ain't taken any lessons in polite baby talk yet.Maybe in time I could learn this ittums-tweetums stuff, but I doubt it.Always made me sick, that did; and one of the things Vee and I agreed onwas that----"
"Oh, very well," says Auntie. "I do not intend to interfere in any way."
As if she could help it! Why, say, she'd give St. Peter advice ongate-keepin'. But for the time bein', each of us havin' had our say, wecalls it a draw and gets back to what looks like a peace footin'. Butfrom then on I knew she had her eyes out at me. Every move I made wasliable to get her breathin' short or set her squirmin' in her chair. Andyou know how it's apt to be in a case like that. I made more breaks thanever. I'd forget about the youngster bein' asleep and cut loose withsomething noisy at the wrong time. Or I'd jolt her some other way.
But she held in until, one night after dinner, when the baby hadindulged in too much day sleepin' and was carryin' on a bit, I takes anotion to soothe him with a few humorous antics while Auntie is safedownstairs. You see, I'd never been able to get him to take any noticeof me before; but this time, after I'd done a swell imitation of a FredStone dance, I had him cooin' approvin', the nurse smotherin' a smile,and Vee snickerin'.
Naturally, I has to follow it up with something else. I was down on myhands and knees doin' a buckin' bronco act across the floor, when therecomes this gasp from the doorway. It seems Auntie was passin' by, andpeeked in. Her eyebrows go up, her mouth corners come down, and shestiffens like she'd grabbed a high-voltage feed wire. I saw it comin',but the best I can do is steady myself on my fingers and toes and wish Ihad cotton in my ears.
"Really!" says she. "Are you never to realize, young man, that you arenow supposed to be a husband and a father?"
And, before I can shoot back a word, she's sailed on, her chin in theair and her mouth about as smilin' as a crack in a vinegar bottle. Butshe'd said it. She'd pushed it home, too. And the worst of it was, Icouldn't deny that she had the goods on me. I might pass as a husband,if you didn't expect too much. But as for the rest--well, I knew Iwasn't meetin' the specifications.
The only model I could think of was them fond parent groups you see inthe movie close-ups--mother on the right, father at the left, and LittleBright Eyes squeezed in between and bein' mauled affectionate. Had weever indulged in any such family clinch? Not up to date. Why? Was itbecause I was a failure as a daddy? Looked so. And here was Auntietaxin' me with it. Would other folks find out, too?
I begun thinkin' over the way different ones had taken the n
ews. OldHickory, for instance. I was wearin' a wide grin and still feelin' sortof chesty when I broke into his private office and handed him thebulletin.
"Eh?" he grunts, squintin' at me from under them bushy eyebrows. "Afather! You? Good Lord!"
"Why not?" says I. "It's still being done, ain't it?"
"Oh, I suppose so. Yes, yes," he goes on, starin' at me. "But somehow,young man, I can hardly think of you as--as---- Well, congratulations,Torchy. You have frequently surprised me by rising to the occasion.Perhaps you will in this also."
"Thanks, Mr. Ellins," says I. "It's nice of you to cheer me up thatway."
Piddie, of course, said the right and elegant thing, just as if he'dlearned it out of a book. He always does, you know. Makes a reg'larlittle speech, and finishes by givin' me the fraternal handclasp and apat on the shoulder.
But a minute after I caught him gazin' at me wonderin', and he goes offshakin' his head.
Then I runs across my newspaper friend Whitey Weeks, who used to know mewhen I was a cub office-boy on the Sunday editor's door.
"Well, Torchy," says he, "what you got on your mind?"
"Nothing you could make copy out of," says I, "but it's a whale of anevent for me."
"You don't say," says he. "Somebody died and left you the business?"
"Just the opposite," says I.
"I don't get you," says he.
"Ah, what's usually in the next column?" says I. "It's a case ofsomebody bein' born."
"Why--why," says he, openin' his mouth, "you don't mean that----"
"Uh-huh," says I, tryin' to look modest.
"I was down on my knees doin' a buckin' bronco act, whenthere comes a gasp from the doorway."]
"Haw-haw!" roars Whitey, usin' the steam siren effect. And, as it'sright on the corner of Forty-second and Broadway, he comes nearcollectin' a crowd. Four or five people turn around to see what themerriment is all about, and a couple of 'em stops short in their tracks.One guy I spotted for a vaudeville artist lookin' for stuff that mightfat up his act.
"Say," Whitey goes on, poundin' me on the back jovial, "that's rich,that is!"
"Glad it amuses you," says I, startin' to move off.
"Oh, come, old chap!" says he, followin' along. "Don't get crabby.What--what is it, anyway?"
"It's a baby," says I. "Quite a young one. Now go laugh your fat headoff, you human hyena."
With that shot I dashes through the traffic and catches a downtown car,leavin' him there with his silly face unhinged. And I did no moreannouncin' to anybody. I was through advertisin'. When some of thecommuters on the eight-three heard the news and started springin' theircomic tricks on me, I pretended I didn't understand.
I don't know what they thought. I didn't give a whoop, either. I wasn'tdemandin' that anybody should pass solemn resolutions thankin' me forwhat I'd done for my country, or stand with their hats off as I went by.But I was overstocked on this joke-book junk.
Maybe I didn't look like a father, or act like one; but I was doin' mybest on the short notice I'd had.
I will say for Vee that she stood by me noble. She seemed to thinkwhatever I did was all right, even when I shied at holdin' the youngsterfor the first time.
"I'm afraid I'll bend him in the wrong place," I protests.
"Goose!" says she. "Of course you won't."
"Suppose I should drop him?" says I.
"You can't if you take him just as I show you," she goes on patient."Now, sit down in that chair. Crook your left arm like this. Now holdyour knees together, and we'll just put the little precious right inyour---- There! Why, you're doing it splendidly."
"Am I?" says I.
I might have believed her if I hadn't caught a glimpse of myself in theglass. Say, I was sittin' there as easy and graceful as if I'd been madeof structural iron and reinforced concrete. Stiff! Them stone lions infront of the Public Lib'ry was frolicsome lambs compared to me. And Iwas wearin' the same happy look on my face as if I was havin' a toothplugged.
Course that had to be just the time when Mr. Robert Ellins happened infor his first private view. Mrs. Robert had towed him down special. He'sa reg'lar friend, though, Mr. Robert is. I can't say how much of astruggle he had to keep his face straight, but after the first spasm hasworn off he don't show any more signs of wantin' to cackle. And he don'tpull any end-man stuff.
"Well, well, Torchy!" says he. "A son and heir, eh? I salute you."
"Same to you and many of 'em," says I, grinnin' simple.
It was the first thing that came into my head, but I guess I'd betternot have let it out. Mrs. Robert pinks up, Vee snickers, and they bothhurries into the next room.
"Thank you, Torchy," says Mr. Robert. "Within certain limitations, Itrust your wish comes true. But I say--how does it feel, being afather?"
"Just plain foolish," says I.
"Eh?" says he.
"Honest, Mr. Robert," says I, "I never felt so much like a ham sandwichat a Chamber of Commerce banquet as I do right now. I'm beginnin' tosuspect I've been miscast for the part."
"Nonsense!" says he soothin'. "You appear to be getting alongswimmingly. I'm sure I wouldn't know how to hold a baby at all."
"You couldn't know less'n I do about it at present writing," says I. "Idon't dare move, and both my legs are asleep from the knees down. Do mea favor and call for help, won't you?"
"Oh, I say!" he calls out. "The starboard watch wants to be relieved."
So Vee comes back and pries the baby out of my grip.
"Isn't he absurd!" says she. "But he will soon learn. All men are likethat at first, I suppose."
"Hear that, Mr. Robert?" says I. "That's what I call a sun-cureddisposition."
She'd make a good animal-trainer, Vee; she's so persistent and patient.After dinner she jollies me into tryin' it again.
"You needn't sit so rigid, you know," she coaches me. "Just relaxnaturally and let his little head rest easy in the hollow of your arm.No, you don't have to grab him with the other hand. Let him kick hislegs if he wants to. See, he is looking up at you! Yes, I believe heis. Do you see Daddy? Do you, precious?"
"Must be some sight," I murmurs. "What am I supposed to do now?"
"Oh, you may rock him gently, if you like," says Vee. "And I don'tsuppose he'd mind if you sang a bit."
"Wouldn't that be takin' a mean advantage?" says I.
Vee laughs and goes off so I can practice alone, which was thoughtful ofher.
I didn't find it so bad this time. I discovers I can wiggle my toesoccasionally without lettin' him crash on to the floor. And I begun toget used to lookin' at him at close range, too. His nose don't seemquite so hopeless as it did. I shouldn't wonder but what he'd grow areg'lar nose there in time. And their little ears are cute, ain't they?But say, it was them big blue eyes that got me interested. First offthey sort of wandered around the room aimless; but after a while theysteadies down into gazin' at me sort of curious and admirin'. I ratherliked that.
"How about it, Snookums?" says I. "What do you think of your amateurdaddy? Or are you wonderin' if your hair'll be as red as mine? Don't youcare. There's worse things in life than bein' bright on top. Eh? Thinkyou'd like to get your fingers in it? Might burny-burn. Well, try itonce, if you like." And I ducks my head so he can reach that wavin'forelock of mine.
"Googly-goo!" remarks Sonny, indicatin' 'most anything you're a mind tocall it.
Anyway, he seems to be entertained. We was gettin' acquainted fast.Pretty soon he pulls a smile on me. Say, it's the real thing in thesmile line, too--confidential and chummy. I has to smile back.
"That's the trick, Buster!" says I. "Friendly face motions is what wins."
"Goo-oogly-goo!" says he.
"True words!" says I. "I believe you."
We must have kept that up for near half an hour, until he shows signs ofgettin' sleepy. Just before he drops off, though, he was wavin' one ofhis hands around, and the first thing I know them soft little pinkfingers has circled about my thumb.
Say, that tu
rned the trick--just that. Ever had a baby grip you thatway? Your own, I mean? If you have, I expect you'll know what I'mdrivin' at. And if you ain't--well, you got something comin' to you.It's a thing I couldn't tell you about. It's a gentle sort of thrill,that spreads and spreads until it gets 'way inside of you--under yourvest, on the left side.
When Vee finally comes in to see how we're gettin' along, he's snoozin'calm and peaceful, with a sketchy smile kind of flickerin' on and offthat rosebud mouth of his, like he was indulgin' in pleasant dreams.Also, them little pink fingers was still wrapped around my thumb.
"Well, if you aren't a picture, you two!" says Vee, bendin' over andwhisperin' in my ear.
"This ain't a pose," says I. "It's the real thing."
"You mean----" begins Vee.
"I mean I've qualified," says I. "Maybe I didn't show up so strongdurin' the initiation, but I squeaked through. I'm a reg'lar daddy now.See! He's givin' me the inside brother grip--on my thumb. You can callAuntie in, if you like."