Ch. 140; Vol. 10
The thunder rolled sometime after three in the morning. The Bear had another rough night with the old noggin – heavy sinus pain – nothing a little sudafed couldn’t fix, I guess. But by the time the storm had hit, he was feeling better and could appreciate the faraway crack of thunder while moving the car into the garage in case of hail.
“Now just one more vitamin, to balance on the top.”
Well, maybe a tissue box, too. Somewhere halfway through his oatmeal, after the banana, milk, and cereal, Puck decided to build a tower on the kitchen table – spice rack, jars, vitamin bottles, etc. Until it was about as tall as himself.
“Ok, Puck. Finish your oatmeal now.”
“I will. I’m sitting far away from it. Just in case it BURSTS!”
Puck walked up from the basement right before his phonics lesson with two old Nintendo cables that I’m not sure The Bear ever really used. Maybe once or twice…
“Here, Mom. Put this end into your pocket and I will control you with this. Every time I read a page, I will control you to turn it.”
Puck tried to be patient. But after I kept turning the pages too fast before he could press the “turn” button…
“Mom. You can’t let your imagination control you…”
Or…
“Well, Mom, you just have to pay attention. Don’t let your mind fool you.”
And then outside to plant the little spruce trees…
“Mom, keep this still in your pocket to make you go PRESTO!”
Fifteen minutes of kickball on the driveway…
“MOM! EVERY TIME YOU KICK IT THERE AND YOU’RE OUT I WILL PLAY THIS HARMONICA TO SHOW THAT YOU ARE OUT!”
It was Joe’s first day on the job. Trained by his brother-in-law. Not a bad way to step into the corporate world.
The tower finally crashed during lunch.
And because it had been too many days without an experiment registering on Puck’s radar, you could see the wheels spinning…
“I’m going to use this as dipping sauce,” he looked down into his cup of apple juice. “Where’s that popcorn?”
“Puck…”
“It’s alright, Mom.”
Popcorn soup.
“Puck, not the food coloring…”
“Please, MOM? Just a LITTLE?”
His eyes were so big and bright and hopeful.
Blue popcorn soup.
“Just don’t… eat it anymore.”
“I won’t. This is a poisonous experiment.”
“Crackers is sort of a snoot sometimes, isn’t she Puck?” I noted later while Crackers watched us smugly from a blanketed nap.
“Yes, she is. But cats weren’t like that when they were first made. Before sin came into the world. It was just like a vitamin…”
“A vitamin?”
“Like caffeine. Sin made the world go crazy. Cats… Bite… Do stuff… Just like caffeine does to you. That’s why you don’t let me have caffeine, right?”
Puck took out the trash before I could stop him – although I really don’t know why I would – helped put away the laundry – avidly – before we took a walk around the neighborhood, Puck on wheels. Heat, deep tar pits in the street. A little more soccer. Afternoons pass quickly.
Right as I got Puck out of the shower, the wind was rustling a storm from the west. Perfect timing. Puck found it necessary to drag up the old heavy rocking horse from the basement for his dinner seat. I could hear him grunting before I realized his project…
“I’m a strong man to do this. I’m a strong man to do this.”
After dinner, we played UNO on the porch in the green and the darkening skies while the storm came in. A crack split the sky…
“GOD, PLEASE DON’T SCARE ME LIKE THAT AGAIN!”
He wasn’t too rattled. As soon as The Bear’s car turned the corner, Puck was running as fast as he could in his pajama pants, Doctor Who robe, and red shoes to snag a quick ride on the way in. Just like I did, and all the kids, with Dad back in the day.
Heavy rain, tearing thunder, inside to golden lamps and stories and goodnight prayers.
