Scags at 7

by Deborah Emin

  He bends over the mother and her babies and says, Shush, shush. She opens her eyes, darts them to me, she looks scared. Pops says for me to go to the garage and bring the wagon. I run across the yard and practically trip on myself I’m so tangled up with joy. I guide my wagon carefully so that it doesn’t scratch Mama’s car. Then I race back to where the puppies are. There is a man with Pops. Pops puts his hand up for me to slow down and be gentle.

  Someone I don’t know is squatting down with the dog and her pups. I don’t like the looks of this. When I get up close I hear the man say, She got in with a beagle and she’s full cocker. Pops says, So this makes the pups cocker spiegels. They laugh but I see nothing to laugh about. What does this man dressed in green shorts and a t-shirt and mocassins want with my pups?

  Pops sees the look on my face and says, Now Scags, this man owns the dog and these puppies are his too so we’re going to let him pick up the mother dog and the babies and wheel them home in your wagon. I look at Pops and he reads my mind. No, he says, they’re too young to take from their mother. We’ll see about getting you a puppy another time. He seems to have forgotten that I found these puppies under my tree and that makes them mine.

  I’m angry at Pops and I drop the handle of the wagon and stomp back to the house and slam the door and walk like I’m wearing cement boots up to my room. The pillow is a good place to scream. So I scream, No fair, no fair. Mama comes into my room. I hear her say, Now Scags, what’s happened now? I don’t want to tell her because no grown up is ever going to give me what I really want.

  29

  The Storm

  I t is 5:00 but the sky is as dark as night. Pops sends Davy home before the storm hits. Pops says, Before all hell breaks loose. But you, Odessa, he calls from the living room into the kitchen, you must stay. I am sitting at the kitchen counter while Odessa pulls the candles and the candle holders out of the cupboard and places them all in front of me like a band of tulips before they bloom. Pops is very excited. He runs from room to room carrying his flashlight and his transistor radio. Mama walks in the door from the Arthurs’ and is full of her smell of cigarettes and wine. Pops walks up to her and takes her hand and says to her, We’ve got to be prepared. He walks with her into the kitchen. Odessa, Mama says, I thought you’d be long gone by now. Pops says, She has to stay with us, we can’t let her get caught in the storm.

  Odessa keeps pulling out candles and placing them on the kitchen table, the dining room table and in Pops’ bathroom on the first floor. When she finishes we are all still standing in the kitchen. Odessa says, If the power goes out this place will look like a church.

  Don’t open the refrigerator anymore. Let’s keep it as cold as possible, Pops says to Odessa. We can cook in the fireplace if it goes on too long, I think, there is plenty of everything in my house. Just as if Pops could read my thoughts he starts to sing, Oh I’ve got plenty of nothing and nothing’s plenty for me, and then he runs upstairs to make sure all the windows are closed.

  When he comes back to the kitchen he slams the back door shut and stares out the window. Mama goes up to him. I wonder about those puppies and wish I had one now. Now would be a good time for a puppy. If it could sit in my lap and lick my face and sleep with me.

  Mama puts her arms around Pops as he faces the yard. He pulls away and then turns to grab her by the waist. Pops says, Do you want to dance? Are you all right, Nate? she asks. She takes a step away from him as if it hurt her to look at him. Pops says, Let’s go on a vacation. Just the two of us. What about me? I ask. Pops doesn’t hear me, he pulls Mama to him and gives her a big kiss.

  Odessa says, Come on Scags, we’ll go sit in the living room. We’ll be fine. I take Odessa’s hand and go with her and whisper, Are they going to be mushy all night? I certainly hope not, I answer myself. We sit down on the couch and look out the window together. Look Odessa, I say, the sky is like split pea soup. It’s very scary, I say and push myself up to Odessa who puts her arm around me and I can feel how tired she is, how she kind of rests against me too. This won’t be too bad, remember the storm last year when your basement flooded?

  Pops walks into the living room. Mama is holding his hand and trying to guide him to his chair. He says, There’s nothing to be afraid of here. He says, You’re covered. He sits down. Don’t be shy. Don’t cry. Don’t wave bye bye. The storm will rattle you to your very bones, shiver and shake miladies. He stands up with his back to us at the window. He’s holding his hands and arms like a batter at the plate waiting for the pitch. Hey batter, he says, laughs at something, maybe the pitcher he sees in front of him. Show me your best stuff, Pops says and takes a swing and whirls around himself and almost falls against the glass.

  The wind is getting very strong. The hollow spot in the corner of the house moans. Pops goes back into the kitchen, he returns with his radio. Mama sits with Odessa and me. Pops tries to find a station that isn’t filled with static. He places the radio to his ear and sits down on the floor. Look at me, he says, I’m in my tailor position.

  I look at Odessa’s face, her eyebrows pulled down tight now, her big black eyes staring someplace that isn’t here. She clicks her tongue and shakes her head back and forth at whatever thought she has and a bright flash of lightning fills the picture window. Right away there is a crash of thunder.

  The storm is right over us, Pops says and jumps up. The lights go out. He takes his flashlight and places it under his chin and walks to the dining room table and puts the candles on the buffet. He jumps onto the table and begins to dance. He’s too tall to stand up straight. Mama tells him to get off the table but he shuffles his feet from side to side. Mama goes to the table, stands in front of him, reaches her hand to him and again the thunder rattles the house, it rumbles through us as if we were all on a roller coaster just starting down the steep hill.

  Odessa’s body vibrates. She must be humming something but I can’t hear her. She says to me, We’re really in the midst of it now.

  Pops jumps off the table. It is so dark I can see only the shadows of Mama and Pops. He says, It’s like an orchestration, don’t you think? Pops looks at me and says, Want me to conduct the storm?

  I can’t look or hear him anymore. Where is my Pops? Why is he standing in front of the window again throwing his arms as if they had no joints and as the storm gets louder and louder he moves wild and wilder.

  Branches are torn from trees, rain drops fall on rain drops and make a racket as if they were hurting each other. Mama tells Pops to get away from the window, Get away, she says, Come on, we’ve seen enough of you looking like Moses waiting to receive the word of God, but now it’s time to settle down.

  Settle down, Pops says, is that all there is on your mind? Where is passion, desire, lust, music, you know what I mean. Where are all the songs I used to know? Pops begins to cry. I hear him sob and with each lightning bolt he is lit up, his arms over his head, his back to us, gone far away and I dig deeper into Odessa’s lap.

  Mama sits next to me and looks at her hands. Pops turns to talk to us, faces us, bent at the waist as if we were all little people. Odessa is crying a little bit and humming out loud now. Mama asks her what she’s humming. Odessa shakes her head and continues and Mama folds Odessa and me in her arms.

  We three breathe together. I hear Pops open the box of cigars on the coffee table and light one up. Once he’s puffing away he stops crying and says, This storm has gone through us all and now it’s just raining, just big gobs of spit coming our way. Mama still holds us tight. Pops goes out the front door, gently closes it. Mama lets us go and I am all sweaty and then cold as Odessa and Mama pull away from me. Outside, Pops holds his arms to the sky which is brighter now, gray not green, he lets the rain fall on his face, but I can no longer look at him.

  30

  Nightmare II

  E verything is black like the puppies and gold, like Goldie, black and gold. Goldie swirls in the air like a lariat being
spun very fast and her arms become whips. I have to stay away from them. The bark on the tree is turning gold. The edges of the grass are turning gold. The Mills sisters sit in their house watching tv when I go to their tree, take an apple from it, to take home to Pops. I find him lying on his bed with his muddy shoes and a puppy in his pocket.

  The gold shimmers in the window and I am afraid of it. The puppy starts to moan. The air smells nasty like when Odessa cleans the windows with vinegar and the sun shines through and my nose turns up all on its own. Goldie gets bigger and bigger and the moaning gets louder and louder. The picture explodes. I wake up.

  31

  Try and Understand Grownups

  C ome on Nate, eat your cereal. Sit down and eat, Mama says to Pops who is walking around and around us, unable to do anything but drink his coffee and smoke Mama’s cigarettes. Hell’s bells, I say, and Mama says, What did you say? I put my head down and look at my chest and try not to watch Pops so much, he’s making me dizzy. Pops says, I’m not going back to that office this week, Pops says, I can’t stand that old man.

  Speak up to him, Mama says in a whispering voice as if Boomer was right in the kitchen.

  Do you really think I can tell him what I see in him? He’s arrogant and devious. Can I tell him I hate looking at him, how he has horns for ears and a little bookkeeper’s mind and how when he walks down the street all the words have a go at him and how much of a cheapskate he is. God Bev. He’s awful. Pops’ coffee spills out of his cup and it’s then that Pops gets annoyed and throws his cigarette into the cup. A nice hiss.

  Nate, you know he has only you and your family’s best interests at heart.

  Pops stops pacing and turns to Mama and says, I hate that frigging man. Pops screams and then he sits down quietly and eats his cereal.

  Pops is dressed in his green suit and white shirt and a tie with little ducks on it. I am wearing my sundress with all the buttons up the front and my sandals. Mama is dressed up too because after breakfast, once Pops leaves for work, Mama and I are going shopping.

  Nate, Mama says, you’re a very accomplished man. You have refinement and good taste. You speak well. People like you. Mama is trying so hard to make him feel good. Maybe if I say I love him too and that he’s my Pops, he’ll feel better, so I say it, Pops I love you. Pops says, Quiet down little one. Just quiet down. Why? I ask. I’m sitting here too. Mama says, Scags it was nice of you to tell your Pops you love him. She pats my hand.

  I finish trying to understand grownups. What sense is there? They don’t care what I think. Pops smokes and smokes and now he has a cough and Mama says, I can’t keep going through this with you. If you drank less and slept more at night, you’d have a clearer head in the morning.

  I think I’ll go up to my room, I say, and clear away my bowl and cup of milk and give them to Odessa. She says, Thank you Funny Face. Up I go, one step then two steps and no one calls me back so I run to my dresser and look at my snails in their green/black water like the color of the sky during a storm. I listen very hard and yes, there’s the garage door opening and a motor being turned on, it’s from Pops’ car. It backs away and is gone.

  Mama comes up the stairs to my room. She is wearing her sunglasses in the house and carrying her big white purse. She says, We’re going now. Keen-o, I say and put on my blue sunglasses that Pops gave me and off we go.

  Once we get into Marshall Fields in Old Orchard, I ask her why she doesn’t take her sunglasses off. She runs her hand down my back and says, Don’t worry yourself about it. We go to the little girl’s section. We look at all the rows and rows of dresses in all different sizes and colors. Hell’s bells, I say in a whisper and hold onto Mama’s hand. She is staring at a red velvet dress so hard she doesn’t hear me.

  Scags, Mama says, let’s just pick out three dresses to try on. One for school, one for dress and one for play. I don’t like to play in dresses, I say and she says, That’s okay, you will. Let’s try on this velvet one. It’s so pretty with the lace bib and little cap sleeves. I think this one will fit you, let me hold it up to you. I stand perfectly still as she says, Don’t hunch your shoulders, look at me.

  Mama, I ask, why is Pops angry at Boomer? Does Pops really hate Boomer and what did Boomer do? Mama says, Oh you and your questions. Don’t worry about Boomer. He can take care of himself. She leads me to the dressing room with an armful of dresses. I don’t like any of them, but Mama buys the velvet one for me and says we’ll try again when there is more of a selection.

  We leave the store and walk to the car. Mama gets behind the wheel and puts her key in the ignition and I look at her long white neck and think she is very pretty and I ask her, Does Pops still love me?

  What a silly question, Scags, of course your Pops and I both love you. Do Boomer and Goldie love me? Yes, of course, and Aunt Money. Odessa loves you. You are rich with love.

  I know Pops wants to love me, I say, and she says right away, You can be sure of that. We pull out of the parking lot and make a right on Skokie Boulevard. I ask, Do you love me? She says, All mothers love their children. Did your mother love you? I ask. Mama says, No, but that was different. Why? I ask her and now I see she is getting nervous like when you are just about to slip on ice and for only a second more you feel safe before you land on your butt. And it’ll hurt. You’ll have no one to cry out to because you’re all alone. My mother, Mama says, was a very unhappy person. Why? I ask. For a lot of reasons, Mama says and turns onto our street.

  We drive past the Mills’ house and then the empty lot and past the Cooks’ house and up our drive. We see Pops in the front yard wearing his suit and mowing the lawn. I sit back and wait for Mama to pull into the garage. She stops the car, she has nothing to say, she rests her head on the steering wheel.

  Pops keeps mowing the lawn, not looking up at us, chomping on a big cigar and looking mean. Mama slowly leaves the car and says nothing to me. She walks through the kitchen door carrying the green bag with my dress in it and her big white purse and closes the door.

  Pops keeps mowing as if he never saw us return. Why isn’t he at work downtown with Boomer? Is Mama so unhappy now like her mother was? I leave the car and go to the back yard where the cottonwood tree sits so full and strong and it’s cool back here, with a nice breeze. Pops will soon be back here, the grass is very tall. Will he see me then?

  32

  Nobody Understands my Pops but Me

  I am in my room on a lazy kind of day where ­coloring with my crayons, copying the full colors of birds out of my bird book, is just the thing for me. I wonder, of course, because I always wonder, where is that Julia and why hasn’t she written to me? I wrote her twice and I asked her all kinds of questions and I want some answers now.

  I think of this blue color and this red color and this yellow color and how when they are combined they make other colors and I want Mama and Pops and me to be one big color, like purple.

  I hear Mama say, Oh no, in her very worried voice. I hear the voice and I know it has something to do with Pops so I run downstairs and find Mama standing at the picture window in the living room with her fingers on the glass like she told me never to do. I walk up to her and look outside. Pops is running back and forth across the street and setting fires in the neighbors’ and our driveways. He has a big red can of gasoline in one hand and a rake in the other and the fires are big and very red. Mama says, Go to your room, Scags.

  I run away from her and out the front door, down the hot white cement sidewalk and run run run until I jump and land on Pops’ bare back. I can’t let anyone hurt him. I can’t let him go up in smoke. I hold him around the neck and he laughs and laughs. He puts down the gasoline can and holds onto me. He is all sweaty and the ashes from the fire stick to his chest. He tells me to let go of him and I do. He runs across the street to make the fire higher in the Rappaports’ driveway. Mr. Rappaport comes out of his house wearing an angry look. He pulls his hose out of
the wheel it is rolled on and turns on the water and the fire tries to stay alive, and Pops stands there watching it die.

  What do you think you’re doing? Mr. Rappaport asks Pops. Pops says, I’m making a fire and howdy doo to you too, and turns around and returns to our driveway where the blaze is hot and red, yellow, orange. Pops rakes the twigs and newspapers into a tight pile when Mr. Cook comes out of his house and puts out his fire too. Mr. Cook says, Watch out Morgenstern, next time you do something like this, I’ll call the cops. I watch Pops. Pops, I say, why a fire?

  Someone taps me on my shoulder and I turn around. It’s Mr. Arthur. He taps Pops’ shoulder and says, Nate this is not a good idea. Pops says, But don’t you see if we all burn up in one big blaze how we won’t have to live like this, each of us on our own little island and no one to talk to? Pops looks hard at Mr. Arthur. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes all the soot and sweat from his face. He is so hot that his glasses are slipping down his nose, and his chin drips.

  Mr. Arthur takes the can of gasoline out of Pops’ hand and says, Let’s go Nate, let’s go clean up. He takes the rake and breaks apart the tight little fire and then stomps on it. He and Pops go up the walk to our front door. Mama is standing there on the stoop with Mrs. Arthur and all these eyes are watching Pops who puts his hands to his head. Mr. Arthur puts the can of gasoline on the ground and tells Pops to go inside and take a shower and rest. Mama holds her body to herself as if it might fall apart, and then takes Pops’ arm. The two of them go inside.

  I stand at the foot of the driveway and look at what is left of the deep red glow. I look hard at the ashes to see if some spark is left to ignite it all over again.