Harry Flammable

by Frank O'Keeffe

  “Why do they have a switch in the railway line here?” I asked.

  “Oh, they had a little branch line and they used the engine to haul some of the construction material when they were building the castle. But now that it’s finished, they tore it up. Come on, I’ll show you my tinfoil sea.”

  We walked down a narrow alley beside the castle. At the back, running the length of most of the street, was a curved billboard-like structure, painted different shades of blue. Dangling from the billboard, at various heights, were hundreds of pieces of tinfoil.

  I gaped. “You hung all these?”

  “Yeah, and I’m nearly finished. I just have to do a little bit at the far end.”

  We walked to the end where a small, adjustable, elevated platform with wheels was parked. I followed Celia onto the platform and she pushed a control button. It rose slowly and stopped when Celia pressed the button again. “It works on hydraulics,” she said.

  A large container of tinfoil sat on one corner of the platform along with a large spool of clear fishing line.

  “It doesn’t look very real when you’re right up against it,” Celia said. “Here’s what I have to do.” She took a sheet of tinfoil and cut off a strip. Then she snipped off a length of fishing line and attached it to the tinfoil with a small hook. She picked up a large stapler and stapled the piece of line to the billboard.

  “It has to hang free, so it can move to give the impression of sunlight on water. Here, you try one. Then at least you can say you had a part in making the movie.” She laughed.

  I had just completed stapling my piece of line with its tinfoil when we heard voices and laughter right behind us.

  The voices were coming from behind the plywood wall of the castle. We weren’t high enough to see over the wall and whoever was on the other side was too close to the wall to see us.

  “Did you hear what happened to Johnny Random?” a voice asked.

  “That’s Ralph,” Celia whispered.

  “He almost went up in flames at the reception last night when some kid served him a flaming crêpe. Of course, he was drunk.”

  “Who? The waiter?” a second voice asked.

  “No, Johnny Random. You know how he drinks. He was belting back a brandy and I hear it caught fire. Well, the Funeral at Feng-t’ai was almost Johnny’s.” Ralph laughed.

  “Well, whoever that poor kid was that served him, it’ll probably be his funeral when Johnny sobers up,” the other voice replied.

  “That Johnny Random is really arrogant. You know, he was complaining the other day the lighting in his trailer wasn’t bright enough, so I had to change all the bulbs. As far as I’m concerned, if I meet that kid I’d like to shake his hand.”

  “I don’t think you’d want to do that,” Celia whispered to me.

  Ralph was laughing. “I hear makeup will probably have to give Johnny a new set of eyebrows. I suppose he’ll want the lighting in his trailer darker now.”

  “I’ll bet that kid got fired,” the second voice said.

  “You know, that girl, Celia, was working at the reception,” Ralph continued. “She’ll know what happened. She should be here soon.”

  “I think I’d better go,” I whispered.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Celia said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to be here right now. Ralph might recognize you and he’ll only ask awkward questions. Anyway, it’s time for me to start work.”

  “Thanks for showing me around,” I whispered. “See you Monday.” I jumped lightly to the ground and hurried along the back of the castle wall. Before I turned into the alley I looked back to wave, but thought better of it. Ralph was standing at the foot of the platform, talking to Celia.

  As I rode back to the city, I thought, why did I say, “See you Monday” to Celia? Tomorrow was Sunday. I should have asked if I could see her then. I had all of Sunday to get through before I faced the music on Monday. Being with Celia tomorrow would have made facing Monday a bit more bearable. But I’d blown it.

  13

  I WAS SURE BY the time I got home everyone would have seen the newspaper and I would have to face a barrage of questions.

  Aunt Phyllis was vacuuming the living room rug and Mom was cleaning the windows. Dad was nowhere in sight.

  “We had lunch about a half hour ago,” Mom said. “There’s some soup left in the fridge. You can heat it up in the microwave.”

  “Um. No thanks. Is there any of that pizza left?”

  “I think there’s a couple of slices.”

  I heated the pizza and was just sitting down to eat it when Dad came in from the backyard.

  “Where’s the newspaper?” Dad asked.

  Uh oh, I thought. Here it comes. The inquisition. Like, “When you said you wanted to be in pictures, did you mean the front page of the Morning Independent?”

  “I haven’t seen it,” Mom said.

  Aunt Phyllis was putting the vacuum cleaner away. “What are you looking for, George?”

  “The newspaper. I need the sports page. There’s a wrestling card tonight at the stadium and I’m thinking of going. I want to check who the headliners are.”

  “Wrestling indeed, how uncultured,” Aunt Phyllis said. “Well, I’m sorry George, I thought you were finished with it. I was helping to tidy up. You left it on the floor and I put it in the recycling box at the end of the hall. By the way, I also put that green plastic lizard that you left on the end of my bed into the plastic recycling box. I thought that joke had been rather overworked.”

  “Not me this time,” Dad said.

  I was already halfway down the hall when I heard Mom say, “Oh dear, I put the boxes out at the end of the driveway.”

  I did a U-turn and dashed out the front door to the driveway. The blue boxes were there, but they were both empty.

  I’d no idea how long ago the boxes had been emptied, but I knew I had to get to the recycling depot fast to have any chance of preventing Ralph from becoming part of a compacted bundle of plastic. The trouble was, the recycling depot was halfway across town. I raced into the garage and grabbed my bicycle. I hadn’t ridden it for a couple of years and I’d been getting too big for it then. I jumped on, then jumped off just as fast. Both tires were flat. I found the pump and frantically pumped air into each tire, jumped on the bike again, and pedalled like mad. My bike seemed to have shrunk since I’d last ridden it. The seat was too low and it felt like my knees were up around my ears. But I thought about Ralph and tried to pedal faster.

  I knew it was really my fault. I’d been in such a rush to get out of the house this morning I’d forgotten to put Ralph in his aquarium. He’d spent the night in the little grapefruit tree that I’d grown from seed in third grade. I often let him out in the tree and he usually stayed there. This time he hadn’t, and I must have left my bedroom door open.

  It took me a good half hour to reach the recycling depot. I flew into the yard, flung my bike against the fence, and dashed inside the building.

  I was sweating and breathing hard. A forklift lumbered past carrying a large compacted bundle of cardboard. Another man at the far end of the building was operating the compactor.

  I ran up to him. “Where’s …” I tried to catch my breath. “Where’s the plastic you brought in today?”

  “Why? You lose something?”

  “My aunt …” I was still panting.

  “Your aunt?” The man laughed. “You trying to recycle your aunt?”

  “No. It’s my iguana.” I’d finally got my breath back. “My aunt put him in the plastic recycling by mistake.”

  “An iguana. That’s a lizard, right? Well, all the plastic we brought in today is still outside. There’ll be another truck coming in before we close. I’ll show you where the plastic is and you’re welcome to look through it. I guess your aunt doesn’t like lizards.”

  I wasn’t going to explain. It was too complicated and I wanted to save what energy I had left for the search.

  “Here it is. Good luck.”
>
  I groaned. Three huge steel mesh bins were jammed with plastic bottles and containers of every description.

  “Oh, if you take the plastic containers out, make sure you put them back before you leave, okay?”

  I nodded and set to work. It took me over an hour to get through the first bin. I had to haul out every bottle and I had to peer inside those that had an opening large enough for Ralph to crawl into. I’d just got the first bin loaded again when a truck drove in and reversed towards an empty bin.

  I ran up to the driver’s window and explained what I was looking for. If I could get the plastic dumped on the ground, I could sort it faster. The driver and his helper said they hadn’t seen any lizards but they’d do what I asked, as long as I promised to fill the container as I went through the pile.

  I was about halfway through the pile when a voice called, “Hey Harry! Did ya get a new job?”

  I looked up to see Joe Straka peering at me through the fence. The auto wreckers was next to the recycling depot. He was holding some car part in his hand.

  “I’m looking for Ralph,” I explained. “Aunt Phyllis tried to recycle him. She thought he was made of plastic. What are you doing here on a Saturday?”

  “Just earning a few extra bucks. Let me give you a hand. It’ll go faster with two of us looking.” Joe dropped the part on the ground, clambered over the fence, and helped me search.

  We finished the pile and loaded the last of it into the bin. There was no sign of Ralph, but there were two more bins to search.

  “He could be anywhere,” Joe said. “Even if he was in the plastic, he could have taken off by now.”

  “Yeah. But there’s still a chance he’s still here.”

  “Did you see that picture on the front of the Morning Independent? It sure looked like you. That’s why I asked if you’d got a new job. Did you see it? But I figured it couldn’t have been you. It was at city hall, not at The Ritz, so it couldn’t have been you.”

  “It was me.” I told Joe the whole story. “I can’t wait ’till Monday. Everyone will have seen the picture.”

  “Well, I wasn’t sure it was you,” Joe said. “Just deny it.”

  “If you’d read the rest of the paper you’d have seen that The Ritz was doing the catering. By Monday it won’t take a genius to figure out it was me. And then I have to go to The Ritz in the afternoon. That’s when I’ll get fired.”

  “Still, it wasn’t your fault,” Joe sympathized. “It’s not fair.”

  “Hey Joe!” a voice yelled. “Where are ya hidin’?”

  “That’s my boss,” Joe said. “I’d better get back. Mr. Shamberg will have a fit if there are two firings from the work experience program in one weekend.” He clambered back over the fence.

  “Thanks for the help, Joe.”

  “Hey Joe!” the voice called again.

  “Coming, Mr. Hardacre,” Joe called. He waved at me, grabbed up the car part from the ground, and disappeared behind a row of wrecked cars.

  I’d just got the last bin finished when the guy I’d talked to came up. “Any luck?”

  I shook my head.

  “Look, we’re closing up. Why don’t you give me your name and phone number and I’ll call you if it shows up.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” I described what Ralph looked like and, before I left, I made a quick check along the fence and the yard, but as Joe said, Ralph could be anywhere by now.

  It was just about dark when I got home. I jumped off my bike at the end of the driveway and was wheeling it towards the garage when a slight movement caught my eye. It came from the small tree at the edge of the lawn. It was Ralph.

  “Darn you! Do you know how many bleach and milk containers I looked in today?” I could have been mad at Ralph but I was too relieved that he was still alive.

  Dad had gone to the wrestling and Aunt Phyllis had gone to bed. Mom was pleased that I’d found Ralph. By the time I’d wolfed down supper, I was nodding off. I was exhausted. I went to bed, but before I did I made sure that Ralph was safely in his aquarium.

  When I woke up and looked at the clock, I saw that I’d slept in. I thought, that’s good. If Sunday goes by fast, the waiting for Monday won’t be so bad. But, then, on the other hand, I don’t want Monday to come at all. Still, I have to get through this day.

  I got dressed and went to the kitchen. Through the window I could see Dad in the back garden. There was no sign of Mom or Aunt Phyllis.

  I heated up a couple of waffles in the toaster and was just sitting down to eat them when Dad came in.

  “Oh hi, Harry. Mom said you found Ralph. I’m glad. Is he okay?”

  “Yeah, he was in the tree at the edge of the lawn. I’d left him in the tree in my bedroom yesterday and forgot to close my bedroom door.”

  “Well, I guess he must have played dead or something when Aunt Phyllis picked him up.” Dad laughed.

  “Where are Mom and Aunt Phyllis?” I asked.

  “Your mom is practising for some concert in the community hall. Aunt Phyllis went along with her, no doubt to give your mother advice on her singing career. I offered to take Aunt Phyllis to the wrestling last night, but she said it would only disgust her. She should have come.” Dad laughed. “Some of those wrestlers could have done with some acting tips. They were pathetic. Well, I’d better get some more done outside. I’m fixing up the greenhouse. You can give me a hand, if you like, when you finish your breakfast. See ya later.”

  I finished my waffles and thought about phoning Celia. I wasn’t sure what I’d say, but it was getting on my nerves, just sitting around and waiting, not knowing what was going to happen tomorrow. We could at least talk. I looked up the number in the phone book and dialed, but there was nobody home. I decided to help Dad with the greenhouse. At least it would kill some time.

  Dad and I had just come in from outside and were having some lunch when the front door burst open. Both of us leaped to our feet at the sight of Mom and Aunt Phyllis. At first glance it looked like they’d been attacked by an axe murderer. From head to toe they were covered in some kind of red splatter and I thought for a minute that Mom had some brain matter in her hair.

  Dad gasped. “What happened? Was your singing so bad that they threw food?”

  I was standing there, gaping, when Dad’s words sunk in. Aunt Phyllis scurried downstairs, looking mortified.

  Mom went and stood in front of the small mirror near the sink and examined her head. “Don’t ask,” she said. “Oh lord.” She began picking what I thought was the brain matter out of her hair.

  “What’s that stuff?” I asked.

  “Spaghetti.”

  “Spaghetti?” Dad and I chorused.

  “Yeah, spaghetti.” Then Mom burst out laughing as she looked at herself in the mirror.

  “But what happened?” I asked.

  Mom was now laughing so hard she had trouble getting the words out but it sounded like she said, “Aunt Phyllis said I needed more resonance.”

  “Resonance? Is that some kind of spaghetti sauce?” I asked.

  “No, Harry.” Mom giggled and then burst into gales of laughter. “It’s an echo effect. I’d been singing ‘Indian Love Call’ from Rose-Marie. You know the song. It goes, ‘when I’m calling you …’” Mom sang a few bars. “After practice …” Mom’s laughter threatened to get out of control again. “After practice we were walking along the alley behind the community hall. Aunt Phyllis was going on about the need to have my voice vibrate more when she spotted this dumpster.” Mom howled.

  “Dumpster?” Dad asked.

  Mom got a bit more control back. “Yeah. Oh dear. She got me to sing into the dumpster.”

  “Yuck!” I said.

  “Actually, it was quite clean, almost new and practically empty.” Mom was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Anyway, Aunt Phyllis suggested that our community hall needed some kind of sound well in front of the stage and that we might even use the dumpster. She suggested I climb up on it and try singing into it
…” Mom started to break up again. “There I was, standing on top of the dumpster, singing into it, and …” Mom snorted with laughter and almost choked. “And I fell in.” Now Mom really let loose and Dad and I had to wait quite a while before she recovered enough to continue.

  She was still snickering but we could follow what she was saying. “Aunt Phyllis climbed up on the dumpster too and grabbed my hand and was trying to pull me up … and …” Mom almost exploded again but raced on. “She fell in too.” Mom collapsed with laughter on top of the sink and again Dad and I had to wait for her to recover.

  “We landed on a couple of soft garbage bags but, before we could move, someone came and dumped a huge load of leftover spaghetti and sauce on us. We shrieked, I can tell you, when the spaghetti hit us. It turned out that the dumpster is owned by a new Italian restaurant that had just opened. The poor kid who’d dumped the spaghetti on us got the scare of his life. He must have heard us shriek, but when he saw us scrambling out, he ran like mad to the restaurant. Probably to get an ambulance or something. We got out of there quick before anyone showed up, and practically ran the whole way home. It was hilarious!” Mom laughed some more but she’d got most of the laughter out of her system by now. “I’d better go and clean up. Oh, I’ve changed my mind about what we’re having for supper.” She burst out laughing again as she disappeared into the bathroom. “It was going to be spaghetti.” Her laughter echoed from inside the bathroom.

  That episode helped take my mind off things for a while. Dad and I kept picturing the scene in our minds and had laughing fits of our own.

  Before I went to bed I got the dictionary and looked up the word Mom had used. “Resonance: the quality or condition of being resonant.” Not very helpful. Then, “the enhancement of the response of an electrical or mechanical system to a periodic driving force …” I skipped the rest of that. Further down I found, “strong and deep in tone; resounding; a resonant voice.” That had to be it. Then I saw, “continuing to sound in the ears or memory.” That last bit, unfortunately, reminded me of what might be in store for me tomorrow. Once the incident at city hall reached all the ears at school, I wouldn’t be allowed to forget it.