Will and the Magic Glasses

by John Mancini

  Chapter 3 -- THE GRAND INQUISITION

  "William, come to dinner."

  William always heard his Mom the first time she called him to dinner, but he just didn’t consider it right to come on the first call. He didn’t want his Mom to get over-confident. He figured it was his duty, kind of like when the teacher gave you not such terrific grades during the first marking period in order to supposedly get you to "try harder."

  On top of that, he was in the middle of something important. Very important. Far more important than dinner. Every night, Will taped the WWF - he didn’t want to miss a match. He was in the middle of last night’s tape, and now was not the time to waste on something as frivolous as dinner.

  Tonight, he was watching a match between Stone Cold Steve Austin and the Big Boss Man. The Big Boss Man was jumping off the things in the corner and landing right on Stone Cold Steve Austin’s head.

  "William, come to dinner. Now."

  There was that voice again. And here he was just before the end of the match. If I can just wait a few more minutes.

 

  "William. Now. Right now. If you aren’t up here by the count of three…"

 

  "Count of Three" was the formal invitation that William was waiting for. Will didn’t respond to just any invitation. But a "Count of Three" invitation meant it was time to take action. Now he had a challenge. Make it upstairs from the basement, and into his seat before his Mom hit "three" and some sort of punishment was issued.

  "One…"

  Will bounded up the first set of stairs, taking two at a time. He hit the landing and turned for the next set.

  "Two…"

  Will hit the top of the stairs, burst through the basement door, and headed toward the kitchen table. He noticed that everyone was already seated. He slipped for a second on the wood floor in the hallway.

  "Two and a half…"

  Will got back up and launched himself toward his chair, landing with a thump.

  "Is it time for dinner? Why didn’t you let me know?"

  "Three. You just made it. And just for the record, I called you ten minutes ago."

  "Well. You see, I was watching the WWF and…"

  This was the time of day in which Mom’s patience wore thin. "OK. Never mind. Will, why don’t you say grace tonight."

  "OK, Mom." Will paused for dramatic emphasis. "Grace."

  Everyone waited for a few seconds. Will felt all heads turn toward him. "What are you waiting for, Will?" This time it was Dad’s turn to get a little frustrated. "Go ahead, say Grace."

  Will sometimes wondered whether anyone in his family had a sense of humor. "You said to say ‘Grace.’ So that’s what I said. ‘Grace.’ Don’t you get it?"

  "Fine." Will noted that Mom had moved beyond the thin patience phase into the getting sort of mad phase. "Erin, could you say grace tonight since William does not seem to want to cooperate?" She stretched out William’s name into about nine syllables.

  "Yes, Mother." Oh, brother, thought Will, now we’ve got the Miss Erin Perfect thing going on here. "I would be happy to."

  Erin launched into a slow and serious version of grace designed to put Mr. Older Brother to shame. "God is great, God is good, and we thank Him for our food. By His hands we all are fed. Give us, Lord, our daily bread." She gave Will a dirty look. "Ahhhhhhhhhh-Mennnnnnnn."

  Erin shifted gears quickly. "Dad, I hurt my finger today. It is really bothering me. I think it’s a fingernail or maybe a splinter." She came over and showed Dad the finger, which unfortunately happened to be her middle finger. Dad felt Will and Joey raise an eyebrow.

  "It looks OK, honey. Why don’t you sit down and eat?"

  But Erin wasn’t one to miss the raised eyebrows from Joey and Will. "Oh, sorry Dad. I didn’t mean to flick you off."

  Joey and Will snickered. "That’s OK, Erin. Just sit down."

  The food started working its way around the table. Tonight was a good night for Will, food-wise. Barbecued chicken. Will could actually eat that. Corn. He’d let that pass. Rolls. Good stuff. And Orzo noodles, a personal favorite. Will put three big spoonfuls of Orzo noodles on the plate.

  "Will, make sure your eyes aren’t bigger that your stomach. Save some for everyone else," Mom warned.

  Erin chimed in. "What do you mean his eyes aren’t bigger than his stomach? His stomach is much bigger. At least ten times as big. I don’t understand." Erin had a tendency sometimes to take things a little too literally.

  "It means that Will should only take as much as he can eat," responded Dad.

  "But his stomach is pretty big. And his eyes are pretty small. I don’t think his eyes can get much bigger."

  Dad tried again. "It doesn’t really mean that his eyes are bigger than his stomach. It just means that he shouldn’t take so much Orzo."

  "OK, but I don’t think you should say that his eyes are that big, then. Because they’re not. I think maybe his stomach is about 29 inches or maybe three feet, but his eyes are only maybe 1 inch. Or maybe 3 centimeters." Erin had been studying measuring in school. "I’m going to measure them." Erin got up to get a tape measure.

  "Please sit down, Erin. You can measure them later."

  Erin started to say, "But, Mom…." But she stopped short when she realized that she was getting "the glare" from Mom. The glare that meant business.

  Mom decided to switch subjects. "You know, we were talking about something in a course I have been taking…"

  Uh-oh, thought Will. Could be trouble. Will’s Mom took two courses every five years in order to keep her teaching certification current. Will remembered the time Mom had taken a course in "Music of the Old South." For a couple of weeks, every time at dinner they had to talk about some crazy kind of music from a long time ago. He tried to remember what kind of course she was taking so that he could get a handle on where this conversation was going. But on the plus side, if she talks about the course, maybe she’ll forget about the sermon.

  "I would like to talk about the rules we have for our family," pronounced Mom.

  What the heck kind of a course is this? I better watch my step here, thought Will.

  "I am taking a course about the commitments that we all make and whether we actually keep those commitments."

  Oh, brother. Why can’t I get to take a course like this instead of long division.

  "One of the things that we talked about in the course was the need to have family rules - and stick by them. Can any of you tell me what some of the rules might be for our family?"

  Will thought for a minute about passing on this question - it was just too baffling. But Will was never one to pass up on a challenge.

  "Let’s see," said Will. Will puffed up very big, like he had suddenly had a very big point to make about the future of the family. "I think a very impor-tant family rule…" He paused for emphasis before proceeding. "Is that you shouldn’t pee in your pants."

  Mom gave him a hard look, trying to decide whether to be mad or not. Because that was the thing sometimes about Will. Sometimes when he was at his most sincere, he was also at his most outrageous. Mom decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "That’s not really the kind of thing that I was looking for, although that is something that we try to discourage."

  Will decided to give it another try. If the specific stuff didn’t work, maybe I should try something a little more general.

  "How about this?…I think a good rule for our family is that ‘you should not be bad.’" There. That’s got to be right. Who could object to that?

  Mom didn’t want to shut William off, but you could tell that she was getting a little bit frustrated. Erin decided to make a contribution to the conversation.

  "I know. ‘No big jobs in the downstairs bathroom.’ That’s what you always say. That’s definitely Rule #1. I usually try to follow that rule, but not the boys, that I can tell you. Sometimes when I go into the bathroom after Joey has been in there, I think I am g
oing to pass out."

  "OK, Erin. That’s enough. No bathroom talk at the dinner table."

  "Now I get it." Erin was on a roll. "And that’s Rule #2. ‘No bathroom talk at the dinner table.’ Also, I know Rule #3…‘No body noises at the dinner table.’"

  "No, Erin. I meant…" Will could tell that Mom was fading on her original enthusiasm for sharing the details of her course with this crowd.

  "And of course, there’s Rule #4," continued Erin. "Don’t use so much toilet paper that you clog the whole thing up." Erin cast an accusatory glance at William. William got the feeling that if she wasn’t stopped, Erin might make up 15 or 20 rules just about the bathroom. Mom cut off the conversation by changing the subject.

  "So what kinds of things are on your Christmas lists this year?"

  If she wanted to steer the conversation away from Erin, Mom couldn’t have picked a worse subject. Erin was a Christmas expert. She had been in the planning stage for months. She had been through the American Girl catalogue at least 1,345 times, carefully noting every possible dress and outfit and accessory for the "Bitty Baby."

  "Well, here’s what I want. I would like to have the stroller for the Bitty Baby, because I think Kate would like to roll around in the stroller." Kate was the name of the Bitty Baby and in Erin’s mind, every bit as much a member of the family as, for example, William, if not more so.

  "I would also like to get the Autumn set. With the Autumn set you get a pink top and plaid leggings. And Bitty Baby gets to wear little yellow sneakers and a cute hat. And it comes with a book and the little bear gets to wear a little hat, too."

  Mom turned to Joey, but Erin was not done yet.

  "I would also like to get one of the big American Girls. At first I thought Felicity, but then I thought maybe Samantha. Or maybe Molly. But I really think I want the American Girl Today doll because she comes in a cute red dress with little boots and a lunch box…"

  Joey put his head down on the table and started to snore. There was only so much American Girl stuff he could take. "Never mind, Joey. What are you hoping for?"

  Joey thought for a moment. "I would like a paintball gun. And some paint-balls. And some extra CO2 cartridges. And a mask."

  Mom didn’t like this one bit. "Joey isn’t there something else you would like? Christmas hardly seems the time to be giving paintball guns as presents."

  "Mom, come on. Everybody has them. I’m the only one who doesn’t. I’ll be very careful."

  Will thought that a paintball gun for Joey was a good idea because if Joey got one now, then maybe Will would be able to convince them to get him one in a couple of years. "Mom. I think a paintball gun for a Joey is a good idea. It would be a good way for Joey and me to play more together. In fact, Joey was saying the other day that if he got a paintball gun, then he would let me put on all of my catcher’s equipment and some sweatshirts, and then we would go in the woods, except that he would give me a head-start. Will paused. "And then I would run ahead, and then he would hunt me down," Will concluded confidently.

  "That’s enough about paintball guns. Not one more word." Joey glared at William. "William, what would you like?"

  "An excellent question, Mom. I just happen to have this list prepared that should be of some assistance in Christmas preparations. Let me start. Nike silk boxers. Nintendo 64 Worldwide Wrestling Federation game. A Supastar Gangsta CD. New basketball shoes. A glove controller for the Nintendo 64." On and on the list went. When it came to Christmas, Will liked to be prepared.

  Dad interrupted the Christmas gift list brainstorming. "OK, we get the idea. Will, why don’t you leave your list with us."

  "If you want, Dad, I can email it to you and Mom and to all the relatives."

  "Fine. But I think you should also take the Worldwide Wrestling Federation game off the list. It really doesn’t seem like it’s appropriate for Christmas. If you want to buy it with your own money, that’s OK. But I’m not sure that it’s appropriate for Christmas."

  Will hated it when they used the word "appropriate." That was the word that they used when they had already decided something, but didn’t want to explain it. Appropriate. But before he could argue - the WWF game was what Will really wanted and where on earth was Will going to get enough money from his own to buy it? - Dad switched subjects on him.

  "Now, I want to talk about the sermon at church yesterday. We didn’t have a chance to talk about it yesterday since we weren’t all here for dinner. Will, why don’t you go first."

  "You mean yesterday’s sermon?" Will panicked. Yesterday’s sermon? Yesterday? As in not today, but yesterday?

  "Unless you were in church today on Monday, yes. Yesterday’s sermon."

  "Ahhhhhhhh…Let’s see." Will paused for an inspiration. "Well, it was about mirrors. I definitely remember that. Mirrors. Reflections. And I heard once that if you broke a mirror, you would have bad luck. Kind of like walking under a ladder. Except worse. Or seeing a black cat. Now that’s really bad luck. Or the number 13. Yes. That’s not very lucky either." Will ran out of steam. "Yes, sir. Mirrors. That’s what the sermon was about."

  Joey wondered sometimes where William got this stuff. "I think it was about how when you look in a mirror, you can’t always see things clearly. And that’s how it is sometimes with things we can’t always figure out. Like bad things happening to people."

  "You got all that from a mirror? All the mirrors I’ve ever seen have been perfectly clear. What a crazy answer, Joey. Mom, who’s right? Me or Joey?"

  "Joey’s got the right idea, Will. If it’s hard to understand about the mirror, think about your glasses for a second. People wear their glasses to see clearly, right?"

  "Yes. I think so," replied Will.

  "Well, I think it means that we never know all there is to know about life and other people very clearly. We think we know, but we really don’t. Remember when the minister said things sometimes are ‘hazy and blurred?’"

  "Uh-Huh."

  "It means that no one really knows what other people are thinking and feeling or what they’ve been through or what they are worried about. We just like to think we know. Like a person who needs glasses. Everything is blurry but they won’t admit it."

  "OK."

  Dad knew a lead-in when he heard it. "Speaking of glasses, Will, if you are going to go to the Herndon basketball game, you need to wear your glasses."

  Glasses! Glasses! Glasses! Not the darn glasses again. Will struggled to think where on earth they might be. Let’s see….

  Will tried to think back to the last time he had them on. I had them when I went to school this morning because Mrs. Smith asked me to put them on. So I definitely had them sometime today in school because I don’t remember not having them and being in trouble. And then I had them out during recess, because they fell off while we were playing tag. And then I left them on the ground for a while because I didn’t want to go back and have someone tag me and then be IT. And then somebody found them and turned them into the office and they announced on the television that someone had found some glasses and did anybody know whose they were. And then Daniel said, "Will aren’t those your glasses?" and I said, "Oh yeah, maybe they are." And then I said Mrs. Smith, "Can I go down to the office?" And she said, "I am sure you are capable of going down to the office." And then I said "MAY I go down to the office?" and then she said OK and then I went down and they gave them to me and I shoved them in my pocket.

  That’s it!

  "Got ‘em right here in my pocket. Haven’t been out of my sight all day. I’ll wear them at the basketball game, I promise." He tucked them into the pocket of his jacket.

  "If you are going to go with me," said Dad, "you need to finish up quickly. We’ve got to be there in 10 minutes."

  Once Dad got an idea, there was no stopping him. Will gobbled down a couple of pieces of chicken, 4 grains of rice, and 7 peas, and 3 huge pieces of bread, and announced he was done. "Let’s go."