by Linda Ellen
Now, as he watched, Lilly drew in a deep breath and sat up straight, unconsciously preparing herself for yet another drastic change to her life. Although her eyes were misty, she managed a smile and patted his hand. Her voice just above a whisper, she answered, “That will be fine, son. It’s time for you to strike out on your own. I’ve known this day was coming…” she paused as she searched his eyes. “Forgive an old woman for holding on to you too long. You’ve a right to live your own life.” Raising one hand to cup his cheek, she added, “I’m so proud of you. Since your father…passed on…you’ve been a tower of strength for me and you’ve had to grow up quick. It still hurts me that you had to quit school and go to work, and I know there were many times you sacrificed things you wanted to do because you were saddled with your widowed mother.” Pressing her lips together in fortitude, she finished as she caressed his cheek, “Well, no more. I hope you find what you’re looking for, my sweet Billy.”
He reached out and drew her into his arms for a hug, thanking Heaven above that it hadn’t turned into the scene he had feared it would.
In the space of a week, the family put out the word that they were looking for a house to rent, and once again John Womack came to the rescue. The detective’s elderly mother had recently passed away and the family had been trying to decide what to do with her home – a one-bedroom house at Thirty-Eighth and Herman.
Although the location was far down into the western part of the city – and quite a distance from all of their friends, Sonny and Sara, and their church, Louise fell in love with the little house at first glance. The front door, with two decorative sidelights, welcomed the visitor into a decent-sized living room. On through from there, the home’s large dining room could become Vic and Louise’s bedroom, with Buddy’s baby bed in one corner. The home had a small bathroom, and one bedroom, which Lilly and nearly ten-year-old Tommy could share. A long narrow kitchen exited out onto a covered back porch, and a partial basement would provide storage space and a place for Louise and Lilly to do the laundry. Although a bit smaller than the Matthews had hoped, they decided it would do – and the rent was more than reasonable – so they made the arrangements.
A few days after throwing a party to see the youngest Hoskins off to new adventures, the combined family of five moved into their new place.
Wrestling Lilly’s large antique chest of drawers through the bedroom door, Vic and John stopped for a moment to wipe their foreheads and catch their breath as Lilly hovered nearby, fretting about the bedroom being large enough for all of the furniture.
Louise paused in her efforts of lugging in a large box of clothing to ask their officer friend, “John, where is the closest laundromat around here?”
John grinned playfully and winked at Vic. “Downstairs.”
Louise’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”
Her husband, who had obliged and kept his friend’s secret, chuckled at her dumbfounded look as John offered, “I guess now is a good time to give you your housewarming present.” He motioned for her to follow him. After a moment and shared look with her innocent-acting husband, she followed John through the kitchen and down the basement steps.
There against one wall was an older style green Bendix wringer washer standing next to a large laundry sink. Vic had scrubbed both items until they gleamed like new. Louise had not even gone down to the basement when they had toured the house, hence her surprise.
“It was Mom’s,” John gave the simple explanation.
Vic stepped close and wrapped an arm around Louise’s shoulder. “Now, you won’t have to lug the clothes anywhere in the rain or snow, huh?” he asked, pleased that he had managed to keep the surprise from his unsuspecting wife. “You like it?”
Louise was, indeed, pleased, as the sparkling eyes she turned on her husband indicated. “Oh Vic, it’s my first washing machine. Thank you,” she whispered as she hugged him, picturing the years of washing out clothing in the sink or walking two blocks loaded with laundry baskets. “Wait ’til Mama sees this,” she added with a chuckle.
Tommy, hovering close with a conspiratorial grin encompassing his features, turned to bound up the stairs, calling back, “I’ll go get her!”
*
The first night in their new abode was peaceful and quiet, with barely even one car going down the street. No doors slamming, no drunks wandering down the alley giggling or singing. And as Louise said the next morning, “Thank goodness – no rat!” Although they had not seen Mr. Rat after he had taken one of their bread treats and escaped back down the hole, they had never forgotten their late-night visitor. It would be a story told many times down through the years.
“Yeah, and no noisy neighbors comin’ in from partyin’ at 2 AM,” her husband agreed. Everyone more than concurred that life in the quiet little house, nestled between two larger abodes, would be near heaven compared to the hustle and bustle of life in the apartment house behind the businesses on Broadway. For the first time, they had their own front and back porches, and a private, fenced backyard all to themselves.
The family unpacked, put things away, and as time went by, they settled into their new dwelling. It took some adjusting to Lilly living with them, however, it being a fact that it is never easy for a home to have two women of the house. Inevitably, there were times when the two butted heads on how something should be done. Lilly had been used to having her place the way she wanted it, as Billy had found things do to and places to go in the evenings, in truth doing not much more than sleeping in the small apartments he had shared with his mother. As a result, she had enjoyed her nightly routines of certain radio programs and other habits.
Now, the matriarch of the family was faced with being a permanent fifth wheel in the house of her daughter, and it took some time for everything to settle into a workable pattern.
She wasn’t the only one who had to adjust. Vic, too, needed to change some of his habits, like walking around the house in his skivvies. Meals were another. He hadn’t often had occasion to eat Lilly’s cooking, and although she was a wonderful cook, she prepared dishes differently than he had grown accustomed to since eating only Louise’s meals. Vic soon found that Lilly had a tendency to cream all vegetables, something for which he had never acquired a taste, but of course, she had grown used to doing for Willis.
One night about two weeks after their move, Vic and Louise lay together in bed. The house was quiet and Little Buddy had already fallen asleep in his crib in the corner.
“What’re you thinking about?” Louise whispered, snuggled against Vic’s warm, firm chest. His arms tightened slightly around her and he turned his head a bit to press his lips to her forehead.
“Nothin’ really.”
Louise’s brow furrowed and she tilted her head back a bit to try and discern his expression in the soft moonlight shining in the window. Normally Vic fell asleep quickly, but on this night he seemed to have much on his mind.
“Something’s bothering you,” she stated, hoping he would elaborate. She knew her husband, however, and she knew that if he didn’t feel like talking, he wouldn’t. Period.
After a few minutes, he let out a soft sigh. In truth, he was groping for a way to articulate what was bothering him. Finally, he began, “Does she always cook that way?”
Not knowing to what he referred, she asked, “What way?”
Vic shrugged one shoulder. “You know…everything with that milk gravy stuff in it…peas, cauliflower, corn, green beans, asparagus…”
Louise chuckled softly. “Ahh, that. Well, see…Daddy liked everything creamed. She cooked for him for over forty years so it’s just habit now. I can tell her not to, if you’d rather…”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll get used to it,” he countered. She smiled and snuggled a little closer. Something in his voice, however, made her ask after a few minutes of silence, “Is that all…?”
At that, he stifled a grin, wondering how to word his next observation.
“She uh…she stares at me.”
He nodded in the darkness. “All the time. We’re sittin’ at the table eatin’, sittin’ in the livin’ room listenin’ to the radio, whatever – I look over and she’s lookin’ at me. Kinda gives me The Willies.”
Louise grinned playfully, moving one hand to caress his jaw. “Maybe she likes the way you look. Maybe she thinks you’re handsome. I know I sure do,” she murmured flirtatiously. She felt him chuckle as he moved his hands to caress a few intimate places.
“You do, huh?” he mumbled, turning his head to nuzzle her neck. “Well, I dunno if I want your mother thinkin’ that way about me,” he snickered.
Louise chuckled, happy that she had lightened his mood. Turning fully into his arms, she kissed his lips and whispered, “Well, she can’t have you, cause you’re all mine.”
She felt his lips curve into a sexy smirk against hers as he whispered back, “That right? Prove it.”
With a soft growl, she gave him a kiss that left no doubt in his mind that she meant every word, and more.
It was quite some time before either of them went to sleep.
*
The family settled into a routine, with no emergencies or causes for concern. Life was pleasant. Christmas and New Years came and went, followed by an early spring. Temperatures became unseasonably hot.
One Saturday in May of 1948, Louise decided that she and Lilly would take the boys to the big vegetable market downtown, the first time they had ventured out on an outing together since she had learned to drive.
After maneuvering little Buddy snuggly into a small metal and canvas seat they had found for him, which had come complete with a tiny steering wheel and even a horn for him to beep, while Tommy scrambled into the seat next to him and Lilly climbed into the passenger seat, Louise put the big Oldsmobile into gear and started out. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly, and in no time at all they arrived at their destination. Louise was truly enjoying her newfound freedom and had grown quite confident and proud of her driving prowess. So much so, that she didn’t foresee having trouble of any kind while she was in command of the car.
However, she soon learned how quickly unexpected accidents can happen. After several hours wandering the big market, dickering with vendors, dealing with little Buddy who was beginning to get fussy, and assuring Tommy that they would fix lunch as soon as they arrived back at the house, Louise finally gathered her family into the car for the trip home.
Just as she ushered Tommy into the backseat and swung the door shut – completely shut – she instantly realized she had done something horrible. She had shut the car door on her son’s hand!
Panicked, she squealed in fright and clawed at the door handle. Her hands suddenly became frozen with fear, however, and she couldn’t get them to press the button. Lilly opened the passenger door and scrambled out, fussing loudly at her daughter. “Louise! My heavens what have you done? Open it!” As the women quickly exploded into hysterics, Buddy began to wail and people nearby turned to watch the spectacle.
It had only been seconds since the latch had clicked shut, but to Louise it seemed like an eternity. Before she could do anything, however, Tommy calmly reached over with his left hand and opened the door, freeing himself. He wasn’t even crying.
Louise yanked the door wide, tears streaming down her face as she imagined encountering her son’s hand maimed and mangled for life. “Oh Tommy, honey, I’m so sorry! Let Mama see!” she cried, grasping his right hand in both of hers. Just then, an old man selling watermelons at a booth a few feet away had stepped close, placing his hand on her shoulder.
“Bring him over and plunge his hand in my tub of ice, that’ll help.”
They did as the man said, and Tommy knelt down by the metal tub, holding his hand in the frigid water even as he protested that he wasn’t hurt. People gathered around, whispering and murmuring, trying to see what had happened, and asking Louise over and over to explain the details, which was only making her feel worse. Oh how did I do that? How did I close the car door on my little boy’s hand? She was tormented with guilt as she stood near, holding a squirming Buddy tightly against her chest as if she were afraid something would also happen to him.
After several minutes, the old man sat down next to the tub on an overturned crate and motioned for Tommy to stand up and come close. Moving his hat back off his forehead so he could see better and clamping a small wooden pipe to one side of his mouth, the man examined the boy’s hand, gently squeezing and manipulating all of his fingers and his wrist, but found nothing wrong. No broken bones. No swelling. Nothing. Not even a scratch.
Looking up at a still distraught Louise, the old man squinted in the sunlight, glanced over at the car, and back up at her. “Well young lady, I’d say luck was with you. You just happen to be drivin’ the only car that could have kept this boy’s hand from bein’ crushed.”
Louise shook her head in confusion and drew near, placing an arm around Tommy. “I don’t understand…”
“Aw well, see…” the man explained as he sat forward on the crate and removed the pipe from his mouth, using the stem to point toward the car. “Those Oldsmobiles…the doors are made in such a way to protect against that. There is room in there, just where his hand happened to end up. It closed on it like a glove.” Nodding as if agreeing with himself, he patted Tommy on the head and sat back again, moving to relight his pipe and taking a deep draw. “Yep. That’s what happened, alright.”
“I told ya I wasn’t hurt, Mama,” Tommy agreed as he flexed his hand to show her. Indeed, he had never shed a tear and had calmly opened the car door himself while his mother and grandmother nearly had a breakdown.
She was lucky – and blessed – indeed. Although she had a hard time explaining to her overly cautious husband how such a thing had happened.
One thing is for sure – for the rest of her driving career, nothing like that ever happened again.
*
One bright day a few weeks later, Lilly was cleaning out her canary’s cage. The bird, whom Lilly had named Dickie, had been a Christmas gift from Willis the year they moved to Bowling Green. Since then, and especially since Willis’ death, Dickie’s cheerful song had brightened her days and given her the strength to keep going. Consequently, he meant a lot to her.
Turning to retrieve fresh paper to line the cage, Lilly wasn’t as careful as usual to watch the cage door – and normally the bird never tried to escape. But perhaps that day, he saw the window that Lilly had opened for fresh air, heard the other birds chirping outside, and decided to try for freedom. Before Lilly could react at all, the little yellow bird had hopped to the opening of his cage and with one soft tweet, flew straight out the open window.
“Oh no! Dickie, come back!” Lilly immediately cried, rushing to the window. But it was too late; he was nowhere in sight.
Wringing her hands as she began to tremble and fret, Lilly turned as Tommy ran into the room, Louise immediately on his heels and lugging Buddy on one hip.
“What’s wrong, Grandma?” Tommy asked, but taking one look at the open cage door and the gaping window, he added before she could get any words out, “I’ll get him!”
The women hurriedly followed the eleven-year-old out the door as they each scanned the sky, hoping against hope to spot the small yellow-feathered creature. “Oh, we’ll never find him,” Lilly moaned. “He’s gone, he’s just gone. My sweet little Dickie, my dear Willis got him for me…now he’s gone…they’re both gone…” she cried, highly distraught, one hand fluttering at her lips. Tears fogged her eyes, making it difficult to search the sky. Suddenly, she shook her hands in agitation. “Oh, how could I have been so careless? Stupid old woman!”
A moment later in the back yard, Tommy caught a glimpse of yellow and pointed as he hollered, “There he is!” He quickly and stealthily began to move toward one of the maple trees.
“Oh Tommy, be careful,” Louise caut
ioned as she reached over to grip her mother’s hand. Lilly wiped her eyes as the two ladies watched the boy carefully lift himself up several branches. Then, with amazing ease, he arrived at the limb on which the little bird sat as if stunned, and merely reached out and grasped him in one hand. “Gotcha!” Tommy exclaimed, swinging his legs over the branch and dropping down to the ground.
Quickly, he hurried up to Lilly and held the prize out toward her as the little bird chirped and peeped.
“Here you are, Grandma. Mr. Dickie, all safe and sound.”
Lilly’s gaze moved from her precious feathered pet to her grandson’s twinkling blue eyes and she burst into grateful tears, moving to envelope him into her arms. “Thank you, my little hero,” she managed as they began to move back into the house.
Tommy deposited the canary safely back into his cage, latched the door securely, and turned to flash one of his trademark grins at his grandmother. “Just call me Captain America,” he quipped, referring to his new favorite radio hero. Louise ruffled her son’s hair as the three of them laughed together. Little Buddy clapped his hands gaily as they stood watching Dickie flit around his cage and take up a rousing song.
“Grandma,” Tommy asked, extending a finger inside the cage toward the bird. “Why did you name him Dickie?”
That brought a chuckle and Lilly folded her arms, watching her little friend flutter around in his home, twilling and chirping. “I named him that when Willis first brought him home. You see…Richard, one of my older brothers…we called him Dickie…he could imitate all of the birds in the trees. Kind of a hobby, I guess. Canaries were one of his favorites. He used to entertain us, sitting around the fireplace on cold winter evenings when we were young. So…when I first heard this one here begin to sing, I named him Dickie in honor of my brother.”
Tommy laughed as he wiggled his fingers and Dickie perched on the end of one and opened his beak to sound off once again.