Chapter Fifty-Four
“Ok! I’m just going to wake up now because my clock is too stuvvorn [stubborn] to say seven o’clock!”
Puck’s determined pronunciation of every word he trumpeted was presented with one hand confidently gripping the silver knob of our door. A wedge of orange hall light pushing into the darkness of an early Saturday morning.
“What does your clock say, Puck?” The Bear asked him.
Puck marched back down the hall, each pajama-ed foot like the pound of a steel-toed army boot.
“Oh good grief. It says 7-0-7. I missed seven o’clock.”
Crackers was already busy sticking her fuzzy paw into Puck’s almost-empty strawberry yogurt container, licking the generous remains. Then she worked on his water glass. She’s a pretty dainty creature.
I took Puck shopping. Shopping. Blah blah blah. At least it was just for groceries. And let me at least say this – 9:30 on a Saturday morning in the canned seafood aisle is about the safest place you’re going to find in any place where they accept all major credit cards. At least on a weekday morning in the outer limits of the Greater St. Louis Area.
After failing to locate a tiny set of dollhouse-sized dishes at a nearby craft shop – Puck has certain things in his head – we were standing in line at the post office for awhile. The young woman with stripes of white in her short dark hair carefully addressed each customer at her station, calling even the older guys “sweetie”. I like that. Two of the customers in front of her were clearly of Asian descent, and Puck was watching. Finally, he just had to say something…
“Mama!”
…he whispered; thank You. He pulled my head down to his ear with both blue-gloved hands.
“That lady looks like the girl in that show you watch where she speaks a different language!”
It took me only about ten seconds. My Korean dramas. Of course. Fortunately, the lady in front of us, probably in her 40’s, smiled kindly at him. I’m not sure she heard, but I can never tell if intended compliments are racist or not.
I had burgers to fry. I also was sort of addicted to the Singham theme song, which I played generously in kitchen from Youtube because apparently Spotify is too important to carry the soundtrack to this best-selling Bollywood production. I probably followed this up with more ridiculous Bollywood hits on Grooveshark while I almost burned the meat.
When we finally got back on the road again to the Silverspoon’s – Theodore and Gloria had been at a garden show in the city that morning – the day was bright and melting. Not enough to dissipate any snow on large terms, but the drip-drip-dripping from the gutters signified snowman days as possibly becoming quickly limited. I mean, it was still only 30 degrees out. But it didn’t keep the boys from building another snowman straight off.
“I need a scarf, a carrot, and eyes, Mom!” Puck bellowed, throwing open the deck door.
I pulled a baby carrot from the fridge, advised rocks for the face, and sat back down by the fire with the animals until Gloria walked in the door with a sack of ShamWows and a cloth bag stuffed with brightly painted wood heart, buttons, and face pieces for the snowman. Which probably topped the rocks idea.
Then Izzy swept in from another photo shoot – a little homemade soda shop – and slumped into the comforters Puck had sloughed onto the floor. He’s always coming up with or finding new ideas which usually means busy weekends, and probably lack of food. He served himself from the fridge and discussed plans for the summer with Gloria. Puck wanted a wrestling match, so Theodore stepped in, and to wrap him up like a burrito in the comforters, before Izzy put him on his lap for a couple of episodes of Andy Griffith. Maybe a few more than a couple… You kind of get addicted to those things…
“If the whole country was like Mayberry, we’d all be in a much better place,” Gloria observed during the grilling of panini with sides of Cape Cod potato chips.
If I had a dollar for every time I heard that. It was enough to at least coax The Bear away from translations…
“My brain hurts,” he explained.
He lost his pencil anyway. Gloria packed up some cucumbers and things for Izzy to bring back to the dorm with him. Or the room or whatever he was bunked in now.
Puck went over to dreams under warm covers, SpongeBob eye covers, and The Bear sitting in the glider beside him picking along to Andy Griffith gospel from the library.