Collette

Saturday, August 4, 2007

Saturday, the boys returned to Libby’s to clean out the pool from the havoc of the evening before. And Mom checked out plants at the TLC Nursery.

At home, Collette scrubbed things down and dusted things off and pulled out old pictures for the walls. OLeif finally hung Puck’s curtains, which Denae had sewn back in June. It was a profitable morning.

OLeif had been telling Collette:

“Every year, Wallace does this Walk For Life marathon. But he walks it with his friends. He walks twelve hours – from seven to seven.”

He had walked the marathon the night before, as the storms rolled in.

And:

“Phil Stalone knows the guy whose wife owns Build-a-Bear. Apparently the business has taken off. They’re nation-wide now. And the first store was in the Galleria.”

It was always interesting to hear random bits of information.

And despite how cool July had been, St. Louis was back inside a heat wave – 99 degrees across the board for the coming week, with heat indexes as high as 109.

The squall blew in at 2:24 that afternoon. They had just enough time to take Puck out on the porch as he chewed on the blue blanket. Collette took down her hair and ran out to the mailbox right as the wind gusted in. There was nothing like the feeling of having your hair whip in a strong wind. Puck gasped with the rush of the air and chewed even harder on his blanketed fist.

His outfit (another hand-me-down from Donald Saint) had the Very Hungry Caterpillar on it and read:

“…but he was still hungry.”

The mail contained a catalog of coloring books. She would let Rose look at it.

For some reason as the thunder rolled in, Collette remembered an old poem about a pirate. It had been Carrie’s favorite, and she had memorized it as a kid – “The Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee”:

O, for the Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee!
He was as wicked as wicked could be,
But oh, he was perfectly gorgeous to see!
The Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.

His conscience, of course, was as black as a bat,
But he had a floppety plume on his hat
And when he went walking it jiggled – like that!
The plume of the Pirate Dowdee.

His coat it was handsome and cut with a slash,
And often as ever he twirled his mustache
Deep down in the ocean the mermaids went splash,
Because of Don Durk of Dowdee.

Moreover, Dowdee had a purple tattoo,
And struck in his belt where he buckled it through
Were a dagger, a dirk, and a squizzamaroo,
For fierce was the Pirate Dowdee.

So fearful he was he would shoot at a puff,
And always at sea when the weather grew rough
He drank from a bottle and wrote on his cuff,
Did Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.

Oh, he had a cutlass that swung at his thigh
And he had a parrot called Pepperkin Pye,
And a zigzaggy scar at the end of his eye
Had Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.

He kept in a cavern, this buccaneer bold,
A curious chest that was covered with mould,
And all of his pockets were jingly with gold!
Oh jing! went the gold of Dowdee.

His conscience, of course it was crook’d like a squash,
But both of his boots made a slickery slosh,
And he went through the world with a wonderful swash,
Did Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.

It’s true he was wicked as wicked could be,
His sins they outnumbered a hundred and three,
But oh, he was perfectly gorgeous to see,
The Pirate Don Durk of Dowdee.

Outside, the thunder cracked.

And as the evening came on, OLeif continued to smell like grilled hot dogs. And Puck talked loudly to the rattle attached to his swing and stared at his bookshelves as though they were aliens.