Chapter 11
“Is sh - she going to live?” Porter asked.
“Porter,” Joe said, “only the good Lord knows. . .”
Eddy remembered that Porter had previously referred to the bird as “she” and interrupted, “Are you talking about the bird, Porter?”
“Yes, the dove, is sh - she going to live?” Porter asked.
Joe and Eddy exchanged a look of concern. Porter was not willing to talk about the possibility of his sister’s death. Somehow to Porter the bird had come to symbolize his sister’s life. Eddy recognized his denial as something akin to what she had felt when Fred died. Eddy well knew the void that Karen’s death would leave in his life. Yet, at Porter’s young age, he had been given the task of accepting her impending death.
“We are going to try our best to help that bird,” Joe said. Then he put the car in gear, and with the exception of the truck’s grinding clutch and the low booming sound of the muffler, the remainder of the trip to the restaurant was in silence. Porter seemed less than enthusiastic as he shoved the French fires around on his tray. He held his cheeseburger to his mouth several times then sat it back down. Eddy remembered that you were supposed to tell kids to eat their food, so she spoke up. “Eat your food. Don’t you know that kids are starving all around the world?” But Porter was not so easily manipulated and continued to pick at his food. She knew the food was not really healthy, but still, at least he would be eating something, she reasoned. And why should we waste money by just throwing the food away, when the price they charged for a meal at one of these greasy spoons would pay for a good home-cooked steak. Most kids would rather eat one of these lousy hamburgers than a steak. These kids nowadays didn’t know any better. What was the world coming to?
She emerged from her thoughts and noticed the children’s birthday party, which had spilled out of the building’s glass play area and was now having free reign of the restaurant. The children wore pointy neon birthday hats and blew on cardboard horns. Porter watched the children curiously, as if their enthusiasm was something unexpected and strange. Eddy wondered if there had been enough time, money or energy for birthday parties or even fun day outings for Porter. In her heart she knew the answer, no. She wanted to help the boy, and . . . Joe would also want to help, she reasoned. So, she took some liberty with Joe’s schedule.
“Have you ever been to the zoo, kid?” Eddy asked. Porter shook his head. “Do you think your parents will let us take you to the zoo?”
Porter straightened his shoulders and sat up. “I – I – maybe,” he said with a smile.
“Well, I’ll sure enough ask them,” Eddy said. “Joe, looks like you might need some more gas money, so you can drive us to the zoo.” Eddy winked at Porter and the boy beamed.
“That would suit me fine,” Joe said. “I would love to see those elephants again. Did you know that they are as big as a school bus?” Porter shook his head. “Now you might like to see the gorillas, or maybe you’d like to see the monkeys swinging from trees.”
“No, not the monkeys Joe, they are nasty,” Eddy said. “They smell bad, and are just loaded down with germs.” Eddy curled up her nose and shook her hands, “Gives me the heebie-jeebies just thinking about it.”
Porter snickered.
“Well, they won’t let you touch them anyway,” Joe said. “But, my very favorite animal is known as the King of the Beasts. Do you know which one that is?”
Porter shook his head, and smiled broadly, revealing some missing upper teeth.
“The Lion,” Joe said and then he attempted to roar. Porter laughed.
Soon Porter’s laughter joined with the laughter of the children at the birthday party until it progressed to a cacophony of snorts and snickers. Conversation had become impossible, and Eddy felt relieved. She wanted to help this boy, but it had been a long day and she was tired.
Joe stopped by the Southtown Vet on the way home. Eddy and Porter waited in the truck as Joe went in to check on the bird. “I hope sh – she -- lives, so she can fly home and be - be -- with her family,” Porter said. “They must be looking for her,” he said, as he stared at the flickering yellow caution light at the crossroad.
Eddy looked up at the few stars that were still evident in spite of the bright city lights. “Did you know that you can see the stars really well in the county? When I was a girl, I used to look up at the stars. I thought if I wished on one, my wish would come true.”
“What did – did – you wish for?” Porter asked.
“I wished that when I grew up, I would meet Prince Charming and have lots of kids.” She pulled a cigarette out of her pocket and rolled it between her finger and thumb. “It sounds like such a silly wish now.” She put the cigarette back in its container. They sat in silence and gazed up at the stars. “It makes no sense to wish on stars,” she said.
They heard the creak of the truck door as Joe returned with an update on the bird’s condition. “The vet said she couldn’t make any promises, but they will try their best.” Joe patted the boy on his shoulder. “That’s the best we can hope for now, Porter.”
Porter looked as exhausted as Eddy felt. With dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, he looked much older than his age. She reminded herself that he was just a child trying his best to cope with an adult size problem. He stretched and yawned and soon his head began to bob about like a dashboard doll. Eddy reached over and drew him close to her chest; then she steadied his head with her free hand. He leaned against her shoulder and fell fast asleep. Porter smelled like hospital disinfectant mingled with sweat and ketchup, but somehow Eddy found it endearing. She smiled.
A Dove for Eddy Page 11