My Great-grandfather Turns 12 Today (10 page)

“Made of what?” I asked.

“It’s like straw.”

“Oh,” I said. He had this dreamy look in his eyes, as if he were seeing what he was describing.

“It’s dark in the cottages. And cold, too. Smoky. A little peat fire burning in the hearth.”

“A what fire?”

“Peat. It’s . . . well, they dig it up and burn it. It’s like old grass but it burns more like coal. And the people didn’t used to speak English. They spoke Irish. Gaelic.”

“How do you know all this?” I asked.

“I . . . Grandpa used to live with us. He spoke English and Irish. He taught me a little.” He gave me a smile. “Just enough to get by. He would be what . . .? He would be your great-great-great-grandfather.”

“Wow,” I said. “Is he still around?”

“He died when I was eight. Buried in the cemetery next to St. Joseph’s Church in Culver City. Say, have you been there?”

“Culver City?” I asked.

“The cemetery there. Have you seen Grandpa Farrell’s grave?”

“I guess,” I said. “I don’t really pay much attention when we go to cemeteries and the old relatives start pointing out where even older relatives are buried.”

“He was old,” Charlie said. “He was fifty-six. Ma’s says that’s a good, long life.”

“Fifty-six!” I said. “That’s not old. My Grandpa Farrell is seventy-five and he gets along just fine.”

“Seventy-five! And he’s not sick or anything?”

“No,” I said, “he and Grandma flew to Europe last Christmas.”

“They did
what
!”

This was all getting very confusing. I wondered if Charlie even realized we were talking about his son. A boy who would be born thirteen years from now.

“Never mind,” I said.

“You mean their steamship went so fast they call it flying? Or they took a hot-air balloon?”

“No,” I said. When were airplanes invented anyway? “Have you ever heard of Orville and Wilbur Wright?” I asked and then added, “Never mind.” I decided I better change the subject. “What did your Grandpa Farrell die of?” I asked. “Was there an accident?”

“Consumption,” Charlie said and he looked upset.

“What’s that?”

“You know. TB.”

“TV?” I asked.

“TB. Tuberculosis.”

“Oh,” I said. “Is that something dangerous?” He didn’t say anything. I thought maybe he hadn’t heard me and then he answered so quietly.

“It’s deadly,” he said, his voice a monotone. “Four years ago it took Grandpa and last year . . . .” He quickly looked down at his feet but not before I saw there were tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to . . . I mean, when my Grandma Fitzgerald died two years ago—that’s my mom’s mom—I cried and cried. She got cancer and she died really fast.”

“Last year,” Charlie said, not looking up, “on August fourteenth, my brother William died. A week before his birthday. He had consumption. He was fourteen months younger than me but now . . . now I’m getting older and he’ll always be nine.”

His tear drops were falling into the dirt. In the distance, kids were still screaming and splashing. I wished I could hug him but twelve-year-old boys don’t hug each other no matter how much one of them is hurting.

Chapter 16

Richard

“That boy bothering you, Charlie?”

I looked up. The black kid was back again. This time he didn’t have on any clothes and water was dripping from him. Charlie didn’t answer and the kid started walking toward us. The closer he got, the easier it was to see that he was actually a little taller than I was. He looked strong, too.

“That boy bothering you?” he asked again.

Charlie gave his head a little shake.

“You want me to whup him, Charlie?”

“No, Richard,” Charlie said. He looked over at the kid who was now about five feet from us. “I . . . just got something in my eye,” Charlie said.

“Uh huh,” Richard answered, sounding as if he didn’t believe it. “I look in your eye, I see Sweet William. Thas what I see in your eye. Huh?”

Charlie shrugged.

“You lose someone like that, it makes a hole in your heart,” Richard said. “Thas what my mama told me when Etty passed on. I was only six but I thought I was gonna join her I felt so bad. She was ’bout the best big sister anybody ever had.”

Charlie sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“But that hole Mama talked about?” Richard continued. “It gets smaller and smaller.”

Charlie looked at him.

“It does,” the black boy said. “But I don’t think it
ever
goes away.”

“What do you do when the hole is still big?” Charlie asked.

“You hurt,” Richard said. “Thas what my gramma tol’ me and expect she knows a lot about hurtin’.”

Charlie nodded. “Why?” I asked.

“Who are you?” Richard asked.

“My cousin Michael,” Charlie lied.

“You live in the city?” Richard asked.

“The suburbs,” I said.

“The suppers? What do you mean you live in the suppers?”

“He lives in the city,” Charlie said. “He fell on his head and his brains are still a little mixed up.”

“Uh huh,” Richard said. “Well, he sure doesn’t dress like he’s from around here.”

Which I thought was kind of an interesting statement, coming from someone who wasn’t dressed at all.

“Tell him why your gramma knows a lot about hurting,” Charlie said. “He’s trying to learn a thing or two while he’s here.”

“Huh,” Richard said. “And I hope he does.” Then to me: “Gramma knows a lot about hurting because Gramma was a slave.”

“No way!” I said.

“What?”

“I mean, really? A slave?”

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?” Richard answered, sounding a little annoyed.

“When was she born?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Don’t know for sure. Before the ’Mancipation Proclamation, that’s for sure.”

“Before the what?” I asked.

“Boy, you mean to tell me you never heard of the ’Mancipation Proclamation?”

I shook my head. “I guess not,” I said.

“Well, you know coloreds are free now, don’t you?”

“Coloreds?” I asked.

“His brains are more than mixed up,” he said to Charlie. “His brains are
gone
.” Charlie laughed. “This fool related to you or is he related to Bucky? This fool don’t know cow pie from shoofly pie.”

What from what?

Charlie laughed again. I began to suspect the black kid was saying all this stuff just to cheer him up.

“What kind of pie from what kind of pie?” I asked, playing along and both boys howled.

“We gonna call you ‘Bucky Junior’ you keep that up,” Richard said.

“Who’s Bucky?” I asked.

“Come on,” Charlie said and I followed both of them into the bushes.

We walked maybe twenty-five yards and there was the river bank. It was about ten feet from the top of the bank down to the water. Overalls and some kind of underwear that were shirts and drawers in one piece were hanging on some bushes up where we were. Three boys—two white and one black—were splashing around down in the water which was maybe thirty feet across and moving slowly.

“There’s a drop-off about twenty feet from shore,” Charlie was telling me. “A hole. That’s where you want to be sure to land.”

“Land?” I asked.

“Yeah, Junior,” Richard said. “Land. Hey, Bucky, come meet your kin.”

A white boy of about ten walked out of the water. He was naked, too. He had dark hair that was slicked back from the water and his front teeth really protruded. They stuck way out.

“Bucky was here all by hisself when Nate and I showed up,” Richard said. “Out swimming. I told him that’s dumb.”

“If something happens to you, Bucky,” Charlie said, “no one will be around to help.”

“It was hot,” he answered. “Where’d you get that shirt you’re holdin’?” He was looking at me.

“This is my cousin Michael,” Charlie said. “This is Bucky Taylor.” The kid smiled and then turned around and waded back into the water.

“He could sure use some braces,” I said.

“He’s got no pants why would he need ’spenders?” Richard asked.

“Need what?” I asked.

“Suspenders,” Charlie translated and pretended to pull at something with each hand on either side at the top of his chest. I had no idea what he meant.

“I said ‘braces.’” Both boys looked at me. “Wires in his mouth,” I explained.

“Junior, why you want to put wires in that boy’s mouth?” Richard asked.

“Little strands of metal,” I said.

“Crazy.”

“It would push his teeth back in,” I said.

“My uncle’s got teeth like that,” Richard said. “You talk about wires around him, he’ll push
your
teeth into the back of
your
head.”

In the meantime, Charlie had taken off his overalls and his one-piece underwear. “You want to go first or you want me to?” he asked. “Come on, shuck those clothes.”

I felt a little embarrassed but since everyone else wasn’t wearing any, I pulled mine off. Richard and Charlie laughed at my underpants and then Charlie grabbed the end of an old rope that was looped around some low branches on a tree right next to us. The other end of the rope was tied to a fat tree limb high out over the water.

“I’ll go first,” he said, suddenly tightening his grip on the rope. He took about a half dozen steps back and then ran at full speed and went swinging off the bank. He sailed out on the giant pendulum, letting go when he was about ten feet higher than we were. Then he put his hands down right in front of him and plunged feet first into the drop-off. He quickly popped to the surface, waved at us, and began swimming in toward us.

“Your turn,” Richard said to me.

The end of the rope was dangling down from the limb to just about three feet over a shallow part of the river. Charlie snagged it, clambered up the bank, and held out the line for me to take. Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure about all this. I had gone off the high dive at the rec pool—jumping, not diving— but . . . .

“It’s not hard, Junior,” Richard said and laughed. “Just do like Charlie did.”

All the boys were watching me. I took a couple of steps back and prepared to jump.

“Just be sure to go feet first,” Richard said.

“What?”

“Do like Charlie.”

I nodded and hurled myself forward. Down I went, over land and then over water. Then up. And up. And up. When I could go no higher—it was like being at the high point when you’re on a swing—I let go and for an instant I was sitting in midair.

Chapter 17

Swimming and Talking

A lot can happen in an instant. A lot of thoughts can run through your head. I looked out over the top of the other bank and saw how beautiful the land was. I thought how different it would become in another eighty-eighty years when there would be freeways and houses and malls all over the place.