Chapter Forty-Three
“Mom? Would you read this to me?”
Puck held up the colorful instruction booklet for The Bear’s new transportable wireless digital hand-carry-able makes-chili-and-fries scanner. Cartoon instructions included. Sometimes it’s way too easy to chalk up a purchase as “school expenses”. We may or may not have included a few fanciful late-night snacks in that budget as well. For sanity. I was packing up all the bags for the morning, so I didn’t have time. Therefore, Puck pulled two rag-washcloths from the linen closet [“linen” closet] and set them carefully on the floor, placing one yellow-rubber-booted foot on each.
“I can clean the floor better now. I make new ideas sometimes.”
Doesn’t he always…
We had a cold ride into the city this morning. Simply Apple apple juice. More Ukrainian music. Sometimes I forget that The Bear can’t listen to the same disc three hundred times back-to-back like I can. He pays attention to the music too much.
Puck was standing on Rose’s granite countertop with a luring rope toy which he slashed through the air, hunting out the cats. I stopped him from mountaineering the fridge. He did knock off the magnetized notebook paper of hand-written lasagna recipe.
“Made-line! Made-line! Sweet peat! Sweat pea!”
The high sugary voice did not cajole the elder cat from her hiding location, wherever that might have been. I distracted Puck with a tupperware of raisins which was a completely easy solution to the circus about to take place in Rose’s kitchen. He was also busy quoting Kid Snippets…
“But! If you buy fifteen compleantos. It is only fifteen dollars!… But! If you buy sixteen compleantos. It is only sixteen dollars!… But!…”
He accompanied these quotes by running over for a fierce bear hug around the neck each time he bumped up the number. Then he slapped a banana up to his ear and bounced around chanting…
“Banana phone, banana phone, banana phone, banana phone…”
For once, Rose’s apartment was warm. The two brushed silver radiators were maybe for once doing their job. What can you expect from a pipe-popping eighty year-old building. We pulled out mah-jongg again, and this time played a real game, avoiding the cement turtles in temperatures just above freezing, really. Even with the sun. They predicted flurries in the night.
Chet Danger and The Bear were splitting a Subway for lunch. So we joined them in the cafeteria where Puck immediately began scarfing blueberries and slurping free lemonade from the soda machine.
We then left the bread-winner for the rest of the day and ate our jumbo Kit-Kats by the lake – eight cold fountains splashing in a silent park. A few joggers passed us, but not much more than that. Still, we walked the circumference gravel path and back to the car before driving back to Rose’s place in the haze white-ish gray of an afternoon sky.
We pulled through the second half of the school books pretty easily at Gloria’s old hardwood “card table”. Madeline had never decided to join us, preferring the litter pan – yes – to our company. We felt so much love. While Puck giggled over a new “Little House”, I checked out a new book – “Sparkly Green Earrings”. Sometimes it’s nice to try new things. A change in writing style maybe. My son wolfed more raisins, carrots, whatever else he could horde in the bottomless pit. Enough energy to run around the quiet splash of lake fountains one more time before dark.
The Bear released another Tuesday to the vault of history by greeting his son dancing and singing with half his body sticking up through the sun roof in the parking lot. Sometimes I just let it go.
The Bear picked up on the Greek he couldn’t manage Monday night and slipped me a sermon from a British preacher in Florida. That buttery accent could smooth over almost anything. I’m sort of surprised we haven’t seen more unquestioned dictators blossom out of the English aristocracy.
