by Howard Buten
“You know, Ma’am, it just so happens that today is a holiday in our religion and my brother and I came here to buy toys, which you are supposed to do on this holiday. It is more blessed to give than to receive you know. But now we can’t, because you won’t let us stay here. I think that’s very sad for you, Ma’am. Very sad.” And she walked out of Maxwell’s by herself.
“You better pray,” I said, and followed her out.
We walked up Seven Mile Road together, and Jessica didn’t say anything else. She was good at fibbing though, you could tell.
“Streets are different colors, Jessica,” I said. “Seven Mile Road is black with white stripes and Lauder is gray and Marlowe has stones in it. I think it’s very interesting.” Then I saw a man walking down Seven Mile in front of us, as he walked away he got smaller. We learned it in Science, it is because the world is round. I told Jessica about it.
“Yes,” she said. “But what if it isn’t? It would be like when they run the Air Raid sirens on Saturday as a test. Maybe the man is really getting smaller.”
(Sometimes I have a dream at night. That I am walking with grown-ups down the street where I have never been before. Suddenly they start to walk faster. I have trouble keeping up because I am just small but they walk faster and faster. I don’t run because I am embarrassed that I have to run when all they do is walk but they get real far ahead of me, farther away, they are smaller and smaller, and I am left behind. I yell, “Wait for me, please,” but they don’t. They get smaller and smaller until they disappear. And I am alone.)
Just then Jessica started to run, but she tripped on the curb across the street and fell down. I got real mad because you aren’t supposed to run across the street, it isn’t good safety. I went across and grabbed her on the arm and shook her. Sometimes my mom says she gets mad at me because she loves me and I never understood it before.
“You are supposed to obey the safety rules, Jessica,” I said. “Like Officer Williams told us at assembly.” (I am good at safety rules, Red means stop, green means go, and amber means caution. I don’t know what yellow means.)
Jessica put her finger in her mouth and put one foot on top of the other like a little girl. She looked at me with her eyes, which are giants. She rocked back and forth and made her lips go like together. She looked at me.
“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” I said.
She put her tongue on her lips and made them shiny.
“Your face is going to freeze like that,” I said. She frowned more. She looked like she was going to cry again. Then she took her hand away from her mouth and reached it out to me. She touched my arm.
“Got you last, ha ha!” she yelled, and skipped away down the street.
I caught her and shook her good.
“Don’t tease me, Jessica,” I said. “I hate it.”
So she put her finger in her mouth again and looked like she was going to cry. I couldn’t tell if she was acting or not. I couldn’t tell with Jessica. I just looked at her on Seven Mile Road, and the cars drove by and the traffic was noisy all around us.
I heard another noise, it came from behind me. I turned around and there was a little kid on a bike, he had cards in his spokes and they made a loud noise. He drove reckless, man, he went up the curb and down into the street and almost got hit by cars and then up the curb again. He had red sneakers. He passed us and I saw him go, his red sneakers went around and around on the pedals. Down Seven Mile he pulled his bike up on the back wheels and twirled around, and then disappeared.
Jessica and me walked to the big corner where Greenfield Road crosses Seven Mile, it was real noisy and had a lot of traffic that went fast.
“Let’s cross,” said Jessica, she was smiling now.
“No,” I said. “We aren’t allowed without a grown-up. My mom said never cross Seven Mile Road without a grown-up or I will get run over.”
“Oh let’s anyway,” said Jessica, and she started to cross. The traffic was coming, I ran after her and pulled her back on the curb. I was shaking. I let go of her and put my hands in my pockets. She just looked at me. Then she walked away.
“Jessica,” I said, but she walked away. I thought, She is leaving now, she is mad at me because I didn’t cross Seven Mile and I am chicken.
So I did something. I stepped off the curb into the street and started to cross. The cars screeched their brakes and somebody rolled down his window and yelled at me, but I kept going, and then I closed my eyes I was so scared but I kept crossing until I was on the other side of Seven Mile Road. When I looked though, Jessica wasn’t even watching. She was talking to a man in front of the barber shop. Then she took his hand and he crossed her across Seven Mile Road and then went back himself. Jessica came up to me.
“You aren’t supposed to cross by yourself, Burt,” she said. “I was scared for you.”
I just walked away. I almost cried, and then she ran after me but I didn’t turn around because I was almost crying.
“I’m sorry Burt,” she said. “I didn’t mean you should cross.”
I didn’t talk for a few minutes but then I told her it was ok, and we went back up Seven Mile together again, but I looked at her, and I didn’t know what she meant when she said things.
We came to Kiddyland. It is a lot next to the store that sells women’s underpants (they have it in the window, it makes me embarrassed) and it has rides. But it was closed for the winter. There was a man though, he was taking the rides apart. He was dirty, he had a plaid shirt and a beard from not shaving.
Jessica stopped and leaned on the fence in front of Kiddyland and watched the man, he was unplugging wires.
The man saw us. He started to walk to us and I ran away, but Jessica just stayed leaning on the fence.
“Aren’t you kids supposed to be in school?” said the man. I saw he had dirt under his fingernails.
“It’s a special holiday,” said Jessica. “For us. Just for two children. Us.”
The man smiled. “Oh yeah,” he said. “I know that holiday. I used to observe it once in a while, that holiday.”
Jessica smiled back at him but I wanted to go, you aren’t supposed to talk to strangers.
“You kids want to ride the boat once before I take it down?” he said.
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” said Jessica.
I shook my head but she put her hand on me and looked at me. I said, “Jessica, it’s wrong, Kiddyland is closed,” but she smiled at me and pulled me and we went in.
The man was unplugging more wires. He picked me up and put me in a boat and he picked up Jessica and put her in a boat.
“Yep, after today this’ll all be gone. Tomorrow there won’t be any more Kiddyland. After tonight you two won’t be able to come back to Kiddyland.”
“Not ever?” said Jessica. The man just smiled. He pulled a stick and the boats went around. We sat in them and went around. I pretended mine was real. You could put your hand in the water when you went around and it made waves in it, it was cold. I rang the bell on mine and turned the steering wheel. And then something happened.
I turned around to see Jessica in her boat, but she wasn’t there, it was empty, then I turned the other way and I saw her. She was standing in the water in the middle of the boats, it was up to her legs, she had her finger in her mouth, she was crying.
I stood up in my boat and grabbed her arm and pulled her and she got into my boat. She was all wet. It was freezing. She was crying. She sat next to me. I couldn’t see the man. We went around and around.
Finally the man came back, only this time he was like mean. He picked us up out of the boats and pushed us out of Kiddyland.
“No more Kiddyland for you two,” he kept saying over and over. It scared me.
Jessica was shivering again and we walked up Seven Mile. It was rainy still and there was wind too. I knew I had to save her. Then I saw something. It was Hanley-Dawson Chevrolet, it is a car store on Seven Mile Road right near Kiddyland. It is a big room w
ith glass walls where they have cars for sale. And on the window it had a big sign: COME SEE OUR NEW MODELS—FREE COFFEE AND DONUTS!
I took Jessica by the sleeve and pulled her into Hanley-Dawson Chevrolet.
It was warm inside, they had a couch for sitting and Jessica sat on it. It was green. Then I went to the little table where they had the coffee and donuts. There was grown-ups all around, I had to stand in line. Hanley-Dawson Chevrolet had desks with men in suits at them and telephones and there was a lady with earplugs in her ears who plugged in wires when the phones rang. I waited in line like a little gentleman until it was my turn and then I made Little Boys’ Coffee for Jessica and I got a dirty look for using up all the milk. I took her a donut too, it was blank, no white stuff. I showed her dunking, my dad taught me. I dunk tuna fish sandwiches in chocolate milk, it is delicious and nutritious.
“Morty Nemsick calls this a sofa but my parents say couch. What do you say, Jessica?” I talked to her. It was talking to make her stop shivering. But she didn’t say anything. She held the coffee up to her mouth but it started to spill all over because she was still shaking, so I took it away and held it for her while she drank.
A man in a suit came up to us.
“Do you belong to someone?” he asked us.
“Yes, mister,” I said.
He looked at our coats. “We’re holding them for our parents,” I said. “They are elsewhere.”
He walked away and I watched him go up to another man in a suit and look back at us and point. So I got up. In front of us was a red car. There was a lady and a man looking at it, they were dressed up, they were younger than my parents, the lady had boots with high heels on, she wore make-up. So I went and stood like behind them.
“I think that interior is abysmal,” said the lady. I looked at her and nodded my head.
“It’s optional,” said the man.
I said, “Fabulous.”
They both looked at me, so I waved. They looked at my coat. “I have to grow into it,” I said. “Very sensible for winter.”
The man in the suit watched me with the other man. I waved at them too. The man and the lady walked around the red car and I followed them, nodding when they said something.
But then I looked at Jessica and she was shivering even more, so I went to her. I had an idea.
“Come on,” I said. I made her get up. I walked her over to a big black car they had. The door was open. It was black inside. It had big seats. It had windows. And it was warm. We got in. We closed the doors. I sat in the driver’s side like the daddy and Jessica was next to me. She took off her shoes and put blankee on her legs and soon she started to be warm, I could tell.
I looked out the window. I did something I do frequent in cars. I looked out the window and found a speck of dirt on it and then I closed one eye and went up and down with my head and made it jump over trees.
“All right, you kids get out of there. This isn’t a toy store,” said the man in the suit. He stood outside the car. We locked the doors.
The man with the suit went and got the other man with a suit, who was older.
“That’s it, kids,” he said. “Out. Right now.”
I ignored him. I gave him the silent treatment. He banged on the window with his fist and looked at the other man in a suit and said, “You get them out of here, you hear me?” and he went away. The other man stayed and frowned at us.
Jessica put her face on blankee and hugged him. Her knees went up and down up and down, they had knee socks folded on top, which were smooth and like clear from being wet. I reached out my hand. I almost touched them but I didn’t. I put it on the seat instead.
Soon all the people at Hanley-Dawson Chevrolet were standing around the car looking at Jessica and me. I waved to them. It was like we were in a parade, only Jessica didn’t look at them. She looked down just.
The man in the suit went and got the lady with the earplugs.
“You’re a mother,” he said. “See if you can do something with them.”
The lady made a big smile and looked at us and said, “Come now, children, don’t you think it’s about time you got home? I think your mommies and daddies must be worried about you.”
But I was busy driving. I was on my way to Miami.
Jessica had ribbons in her hair that matched her dress. They were wet though, from the rain outside, and they dangled. And I went to touch one but I didn’t.
One of the men in a suit started laughing and the other one said, “Don’t encourage them.”
Then the old one came out again. He yelled, “Where the hell is the key to that car? Doesn’t anybody know what’s going on here anymore?” Three men in suits went to find the key.
I kept driving to Florida and Jessica bent her head down and closed her eyes. When she bent down blankee slipped off her legs. I reached down to fix him, and when I did my hand hit something. Next to the steering wheel. It jingled. I looked. It was the keys to the car.
Then I did something. I didn’t know how but I did. I reached down with my legs onto the long pedal and pushed it up and down up and down, and then I turned the key. Smoke came out, it made me jump, it was real loud. All the people ran back away from the car and the old man in the suit ran up and banged on the windows again with his fists.
“I’m going to call the police on you brats!” he said.
Then I didn’t do anything, because I didn’t know what was going to happen. But something happened. Jessica started talking.
“Raggedy Ann didn’t die, Burt. I killed her in the hospital. I went to see Daddy. They took him in an ambulance. I was with my aunt, she took me into the room. My mom was in there, next to him, he was under a plastic thing, a tent, and he had tubes all in him. But his eyes were open. I walked up to him. ‘Daddy, it’s me, Contessa,’ I said, but he didn’t say anything. ‘It’s me, Contessa,’ I said. He looked right at me but he didn’t say anything. He acted like he didn’t even know who I was. I said, ‘It’s me, Daddy, it’s me,’ but he looked the other way and I thought it was the plastic, why he couldn’t see, so I reached to pull it away from him but my mom grabbed my hand and I pushed her away. I was mad at Daddy, he wouldn’t even talk to me, I yelled at him. I screamed that he was being mean and wouldn’t talk to me. My aunt pulled me away, out of the room. She made me sit outside, on plastic chairs that were hard. I had Raggedy Ann with me.
“Then my mom came out of the room and she was crying. She told my aunt it was all over and to take me home. But I screamed that I wanted to see Daddy. My aunt held me real hard, she wouldn’t let me. She said that there are some things children don’t understand.
“And then I decided that I wasn’t going to be children anymore. I took Raggedy Ann and killed her in the wastebasket by the elevator.”
And Jessica started to cry. She cried and cried in the car, all bent over and I didn’t know what to do. So I put my arms out, like my dad does when I have nightmares, and I put them on Jessica, I put them around Jessica and she leaned on me, on my front. I hugged her in the car. I hugged her very tight, while grown-ups pounded on the windows all around us.
[19]
THE POLICEMAN HAD A GUN BUT HE DIDN’T KILL US. HE was nice as a policeman and liked children, but said it was dangerous to drive cars inside a store. He called Jessica’s mother on the telephone but she wasn’t home and then he called my house but Jeffrey answered and said it was the wrong number. So the policeman said we could go if we promised to go straight home, and when we left I heard the old man in a suit say, “Is that all, you’re letting them go just like that?” and the policeman said, “Weren’t you ever a kid, mister?”
The sky was just gorgeous, which is what my mom says when I come home dirty, it was gray like dirt and drizzling. The streets were shiny from the water and you could see your breath. We walked back.
I followed Jessica to watch her. We passed Maxwell’s on the other side coming back. The big clock outside the bank said four o’clock.
We didn’t
talk anymore. We were silence all the way back to Jessica’s house. In the driveway were two cars, a station wagon and a little one, in back. I knew the little one was Jessica’s father’s car. Jessica opened the side door of the house and went in but I didn’t want to. I waited outside until she said to come in. I went in.
The lights were all off, nobody was home, no pets even. Jessica took off my mom’s coat and hung it up but I left mine on. Someone was in the pocket, Monkey Cuddles, he was sleeping. Jessica went through the hall to the living room. She didn’t talk. She sat down on the sofa sideways and put her feet on it which made dark spots where they got it wet. (But you shouldn’t put your feet on the furniture, it ruins it, said my mom, and you have to give it away. Once my grandfather sold all the chairs in our house without telling anyone. A man came and was loading them in a truck when my mom got home. She yelled at the man. She said, “What can you say about an eighty-year-old man who doesn’t know the value of furniture?”)
I stood in the hall and looked at Jessica. In the corner of the living room was a grandfather’s clock. Captain Kangaroo has one that dances, but Jessica’s didn’t, he didn’t even have the face, just a thing on the bottom that went back and forth back and forth.
Next to the sofa was a table with doilies, which are cloth snowflakes, and coasters. (I enjoy coasters as items, you don’t have to wind them.) Jessica looked out the window behind her and bounced one foot up and down up and down.
Outside was Mr Moon. In Music we had a song,
Oh Mr Moon, Moon
Bright and Silvery Moon
Won’t you please shine down on me.
Oh Mr Moon, Moon
Bright and Silvery Moon
I’m as blue as I can be.
I’m going to shoot that possum
Fore he starts to run
Going to shoot that possum
With my possum gun.
Oh Mr Moon, Moon
Bright and Silvery Moon
Won’t you please shine down on me.
“Do you see the Man in the Moon?” I said. The clouds went over the moon and made it go on and off. And once I was standing on my front porch looking at the moon and my mom came out and tried to show me the Man in the Moon, but I couldn’t see him. I have never been able to see him.