by Deborah Emin
We play three lines. My fingers are all black and sticky. Mama gets better and better. Pops shows her how to keep score and I wait my turn to bowl but I think I am too little for this game. Maybe if Pops showed me better what to do or even Mama. Well, she did, but she doesn’t know the finer points of the game, Pops says, as he swallows down another cold beer. Mama and I try hard. Pops doesn’t seems to have to try. Sometimes after he gets a strike he yells too loud and then he misses all the pins for two or three tries. Then he gets angry.
When we finish the third line, Mama says, That’s enough. I’m glad. We take off our bowling shoes and Pops has trouble counting the money to pay for everything. Mama tells Pops he has to give her the car keys. When we go to the car, Pops gets in back with me and puts his head in my lap. It is heavy and sweaty. I smell beer. I don’t like it.
Pops is quiet as Mama drives out of the parking lot. Maybe he’s asleep I think and run my finger down his nose. He catches my finger and holds onto it. Pops says to Mama, You know we could have had some fun if you’d loosened up a bit. You know we could go dancing every night if you were more romantic. We could have another child, if you weren’t so afraid of me.
Nate, Mama says, this is not a good time to go into all of that. Well, when would be a good time? We could talk later, Mama says. Pops says, You know you’re not the only woman who finds me attractive. Plenty of women would like to be with me. Why only yesterday I was in Boomer’s apartment and the cleaning woman said, Oh, Mr. Morgenstern, you’re such a nice man, won’t you be the father of my child? One of the secretaries in the building where I work, going up in the elevator, she practically got down on the floor for me—Nate, Mama says, I told you this isn’t a good time.
He raises himself off my lap and hangs over the seat. He starts punching Mama hard in the arm until she says, Stop it Nate. What do you think you’re doing? I say, Stop, stop, stop to both of them. Pops turns to me as if he didn’t know I was in the car, as if he hadn’t been resting his head in my lap. He sits back. Mama pulls our car into the driveway. Pops puts his hands over his head. He says, I don’t know what’s happening to me. Mama is crying. I can hear her. She looks in the rearview mirror at Pops. I wish Pops would just be himself again, and put me on his lap, take me for a ride at night, let the wind come racing through the window and we’d be laughing and singing. We would drive so fast and I would learn how to drive in the dark.
43
The Empty House
I ’m going to get Davy, I say to Odessa as she tucks my pillow under the green summer spread, light green, a color I don’t have in my crayons. I say, He’s got to meet Julia. Do you think he’ll like Julia like he likes me? Well, I don’t want him to like Julia as much but couldn’t we all be friends?
Odessa says, Three’s a bad number. I don’t know why you want to play with that boy.
What do you mean? I ask Odessa. She stands up straight, puts her hands on her hips and says, Look here Scags, I know you like Davy and all that but when you get a little older you’ll see, these Mama’s boys don’t get up to anything good. I don’t think you should play with him now that Julia’s home. But I like Davy, too, I say. Even with that eye? Odessa says, and then says, Ah, Funny Face, you don’t know who your real friends are, do you? I look at Odessa bend down and pat the pillow and stand up. What makes you say Davy is not my friend? I ask her.
Because he has a look in his eyes that says, I-love-you-so-bleed-for-me look. I know that look. Oh Odessa, Davy is my friend, I say. Go play with Davy then but don’t bring anymore snails in here and no more jars of bugs on the patio.
But Odessa, I say, but she plugs in the vacuum cleaner and turns it on. She isn’t able to talk to me anymore, so I run downstairs, out the front door and jump off the front stoop. Should I get my bike? Should I have gotten my holster so Davy and I can play cowboys and Indians? I run across the front lawn, into the open garage where Mama’s car sits like a white rabbit ready to jump out of its hole. I pull my bike out of its spot between Mama’s car and the cinder block wall of the garage.
I climb on my bike and ride down the driveway with my feet off the pedals and I go so fast I miss the turn and slam into a tree. Down I go with a clatter of metal on cement, my knee on the sidewalk. I turn back to the house to see if anyone saw what happened. No one. So why cry, I say, and pick up the bike and brush the dirt off my knee. My elbow is bleeding and so what, I say, and get back on the bike and ride down the street, around the corner, past where Julia lives. Her house is all open. The breezes run right through it making everything smell of fresh cut flowers, watermelon and ice cream. I don’t see Julia in her back yard so I keep going to Davy’s house.
When I get to his front walk, I put my kickstand down and spit on both my hands, rub them together, then spit into them again and rub my elbow and knee. Elbow and knee olé, I say. On the door there is a big chain and a lock. I knock on the door. No noise inside. I try the bell and I hear the gong go through the house but no footsteps coming to let me in. Well, I say, who could open the door with this lock on it? I jump off the steps and run to the window. The drapes are open and I see all their furniture, all of it, even Davy’s red wagon.
I put both hands on the window and fit my face between them. Maybe there is some clue I could see as to where he is. When did he leave? Why didn’t he say anything? Are they on a trip?
I hear a voice, it’s the mailman. Looks like they had to get out in a hurry, he says. I’ve got more bills for them which they won’t be paying. He holds up a stack of letters so I can see them. More mail than we get, I say to him. I know, he says, where’d they go to? We both stand there not knowing how we could have missed them leaving and now we don’t know where they are. Why is there a lock on the door, I ask him. He says, Probably couldn’t afford this big house.
The mailman walks away, towards Julia’s house. I run around the house twice to see if there are any clues. The dust and sand in their yard gets all over my shoes and what is Odessa going to say when she sees this mess?
I leave Davy’s yard, get back on my bike and start to ride around the block the long way and maybe I can figure out where he went. I push the pedals down and around and reach the next corner before I want to. I slow down now because I don’t want to fall off the bike again.
I know Davy will come back and the three of us can play together. I still have Julia. I’ll pretend I’m in a race between me and the Lone Ranger to get to Tonto who has fallen into quicksand and whoever gets there first will be able to save him. I race past the Mills’ house, past the new house that isn’t finished yet, and then a ways down the street, I pass the Cooks’ house. There is Mama looking for me. I start to cry, I cry so hard my bike wobbles and I jump off it and let it crash to the ground. I hear its banged up crash and run as fast as I can to Mama, holding my elbow then my knee, my elbow and my knee. I run to Mama and bury my head in her and wrap myself around her.
Mama takes my arms from around her and lifts my face up to hers. She says, What’s wrong? How did you get hurt like that? I can’t talk and I can’t stop crying. I sob and snort and mucus is coming out of my nose and my throat aches as if I had a strep throat and my elbow and knee really hurt. Mama pulls me away from her and takes a look. She pushes the hair off my forehead and the sweat cools at her touch.
Mama says, Let’s go inside. She takes my hand and I walk beside her, I’m so glued to her leg that if she doesn’t hurry up inside I’m going to melt into her. We get inside and Mama calls Odessa who comes from the basement and Mama tells her to clean me up.
It’s not that I can’t clean myself. It’s that it hurts. It’s not that Mama can’t do it, but that she thinks Odessa can do it too and she says she has an appointment now. I let go of Mama and rub my eyes. Odessa says, Keep those filthy hands away from your face, Scags. I stop crying.
Mama leaves. I yell to her, Where are you going? Mama says, I’ll be back in a little while and I’ll bring y
our bike in. After Odessa gets you set, you go lie down for a while. You’ll see. It was just a nasty fall. You’ll be fine.
I watch Mama walk away as she is talking. Out she goes and Odessa takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen. She keeps bandaids and stuff there for her burns and scratches when she’s cooking. I hear Mama’s car door slam. The engine starts. The car backs out. The garage door goes down.
Odessa washes me and hums, Lady Be Good, and if I start to cry again it won’t be too good. Bactine. Bandaid. A pat on my butt and I go up to my room. Odessa walks with me. I say, Davy’s gone.
44
White and Red
P ops is going to work tomorrow. Today is Sunday so tonight Mama will cook dinner. That means I had better stock up on some candy. I leave my room and listen outside Mama and Pops’ room. Quiet. They must still be sleeping. I go downstairs and take my bike out of the garage and ride to the drug store and buy a Three Musketeers because I only have fifty cents and I want to save some for ice cream after dinner.
On the ride back, the air feels very wet and like some wooly thing has jumped in a pool and fallen on top of me. It’s hard to breathe and as I pass Witch’s Well I ride fast because even though it’s not night it gives me the creeps. I hear a siren coming behind me. I turn around. An ambulance with a police car behind it. They go past me so fast that all the dirt in the street attacks my face.
I try to ride as fast as the ambulance, but only get as far as the school yard before I am too tired to ride fast anymore. Where did they go? It takes all my energy to catch my breath and to forget about riding like an angel through the streets. I have no wings and I have no magic powers and the sirens are long gone.
I see Ricky Rappaport playing at the basketball court in back of the school all by himself. Hey Ricky, I say, where is everyone? I ride over to him and he says, They’re coming soon enough, want to play horse? I watch as he dribbles and makes a lay up. I say, No, not today, I’m going home. See ya.
I ride the rest of the blocks to my house and I really want to eat my candy bar but when I get to the corner I see the ambulance and police car in front of my house. Their lights are flashing and they make me scared because Mama is standing on the front lawn in her bathrobe. When she turns to me I see it is covered with big red spots, dark ones, purple, all of it blood.
I throw my bike down, run to her and see she is crying and that her new hairdo is all messed up. Mrs. Arthur puts out her arm to me to hold me. Where have you been? Mama asks. I say, Nowhere, I just went for a ride. I keep wanting to touch her but Mrs. Arthur holds me back. Is it because she’s all bloody or maybe she’s angry at me?
Where’s Pops? I say, Where’s Pops? She says, Oh your Pops did it this time. She takes my hand and tells me to be quiet now. A stretcher comes out of the garage. They have Pops on it and he’s not awake. They run the stretcher down the driveway into the back of the ambulance. The men lift it up and shove it in as if they were closing a drawer. Mama tells me to wait for her and she runs inside and then quickly comes out with her purse and locks the house, we get in her car and follow the ambulance and police car to the hospital.
I don’t know what to say and Mama sits behind the wheel, gritting her teeth. I feel tears running on my cheeks and wipe them away with the back of my hand which feels hot and I don’t have a thought in my head, it’s as if we, Mama and me, were taking a drive to the dentist rather than to the hospital following an ambulance with Pops lying in the back of it not knowing where we are.
What happened Mama, what happened? Mama holds tight to the steering wheel. She looks straight ahead. I don’t know how far we have to go but I just want to sit in the car forever, until I’m grown up.
Mama says, Scags, your Pops tried to kill himself. Why? I ask, why? Mama says, I don’t know. But you’ll see, they’ll fix him up really good and then we will bring him home. I hold myself to myself and I am so cold. I could use a blanket. I could use a chance to be with some angel now telling me Mama’s right.
In the hospital, they wheel Pops behind a heavy door. I wait on one of the benches while Mama goes in with him. I wait and wait. A little baby, crying, is carried in with its Mama and they go to a desk where a tired woman sits in a green uniform. A doctor comes out and takes the baby and mother into another room.
I’m left alone. The policeman comes over to me and sits down while he writes something in his book. I’m thirsty but I can’t reach the drinking fountain, I say to him. He looks at me and says, That your father we picked up on Kolmar? I say, Yes, what happened to him? We walk to the drinking fountain and he picks me up so I can get a drink. The water is so cold I get a headache. He puts me down. He says, Your father tried to do himself in. But your mother caught him just in time. You’re a lucky kid. He walks away from me, over to the doors and goes in. I’m a lucky kid, I say over and over. I’m a lucky kid.
I want my Mama but she is in with Pops so long and when she finally comes out she is crying. She talks to the policeman who looks at her very nicely. They talk in low whispers. I want to hear what they are saying. But I know they’ll stop talking if I go over there.
I go to the window instead and look out at the woods. I start whistling When the Saints Go Marching In.
45
Well You Know
M ama, Mrs. Arthur and I are sitting in the kitchen where the two of them are smoking and drinking cups of black coffee. Mama stubs out her cigarette and goes upstairs to her bedroom to change out of her robe. Mrs. Arthur sits with me. I say, Mrs. Arthur, Mrs. Arthur—I can’t think of anything else to say to her. She pats my hand and says, It’s okay. Mama comes back downstairs in a pair of shorts and wearing one of Pops’ old blue shirts. She kneels in front of me, her hands resting on my knees and those hands are cold. Mama says, You do know your Pops is going to be okay? We have to be very patient until he comes back to us and we have to be good, very good so that he will have a wonderful family to come back to.
Mama, I say, the house smells bad. Yes, Mama says, your father made quite a mess that I’ve got to clean up this morning.
Mrs. Arthur says, I’ll help you Bev. Mama says, No Ginger, it’s nice of you to offer, but he made such a mess of that bathroom that I can’t let anyone see what he has done.
Scags, Mama says, and stands up, go outside and play, go outside for a while. I’m sure you’ll be fine now, right? Mama starts to cry. Mrs. Arthur tells me to go out now, that she’ll look after Mama and help her clean up and then the house will smell fresh and that Pops will be able to come home soon.
I get off my chair and take a peek around the corner but his bathroom door is closed, broken, but closed. I go out the back door, leaving the two of them behind me. I sneak under the window and listen. I hear Mama crying. Mrs. Arthur tells her, it’s okay, go ahead and cry and then Mama starts talking in a loud voice as if Mrs. Arthur was a far ways away. Mama says, He slashed himself with a razor all up his neck and wrists. I don’t know where I got the strength to break down that door—
I don’t want to listen anymore. I go out further in the yard, under my tree. I lie on my back and I feel myself falling, falling, falling, and I don’t know where I will land, but it’s scary. My arms, legs and head are falling into different places, each one having its own hole to fall into. Two legs. Two arms. One head. All cut off me. All rolling down a hill. Falling into the earth, collapsed. I can tell they are trying not to fall asleep because that is even scarier. I can’t stop my eyes from closing. I can’t tell my mind to stay awake. Yes. I sleep.
When I wake up the sun has moved to the back of the house. The house is still. Quiet. I wonder if I can go in now. I get up and walk to the center of the yard and lie down again. I feel the sun on me. I close my eyes that just do not want to see anything. All I see is gold spots, more and more gold spots jumping. Oh my Pops I love him so…Oh please Pops come back and be like you were. I’ll never be like I was.
I stay outside li
stening, smelling the air which is prickly in my nose. I listen to the cicadas making a whirring sound in the cottonwood. I watch the clouds, the big gray clouds come scraping themselves across the blue sky. Something licks my knee, then something licks my fingertips. I think, oh my…and then whatever fly buzzed by made me think of a puppy. And that is just how it goes, one thing reminding me of something else until it is time to go inside.
Scags At 18