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Authors: Samantha Shepherd

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BOOK: Polkacide
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I hated having her hand on me, but I
didn't pull away just yet. "It's been a tough day. I really need to
get some rest."

"Please come back to the party,
sweetie." Peg tipped her head to one side. "For your dad,
okay?"

No fair playing the dad card, but I
wasn't going to let her guilt me on this. "It won't make any
difference to him whether I'm there or not."

"Yes it will." Peg let go of my
shoulder. "There's going to be an announcement."

I frowned. "What kind of
announcement?"

"I don't even know," said Peg. "His
attorney's going to present it. Lou left strict orders that all of
us be in the room when he does. The whole family."

Even after fifteen years, I couldn't
bring myself to think of her as family. But I didn't say it.
"Whatever it is, someone can tell me about it later." I shoved the
purse under my arm and marched past her.

At which point, she grabbed my elbow
and held on tight. "I won't have it!"

Spinning, I gaped at her.
She'd surprised the hell out of me by raising her voice, which was
something else she never did when it came to me. "You won't
have
what
?"

"Lou...your father asked you
to do
one thing
for him." Peg's frizzy 'fro quivered as she let me have it. "I
won't let you
ruin
it.

"I think you can
carve
fifteen minutes
out of your busy day to
honor
your father's last
request
. Don't
you
?"

I stared at her, wanting so bad to get
angry, needing to go off on her for once and for all. But I
couldn't quite do it. Couldn't give her what she'd had coming for
the last fifteen years.

"Okay." That was all I could bring
myself to say. "Fifteen minutes."

"Thank you." Peg let go of my elbow
and nodded. "On behalf of your father."

"Let's just get this over with," I
said, walking back toward the banquet hall, leaving The Clown
buzzing in my wake.

Chapter 3

 

When I walked back through the door of
the banquet hall, I was nearly run over by a pack of charging kids.
Twelve of them, to be exact--my twelve little nieces and nephews,
otherwise known as the Attention Deficit Disorder Dozen, the ADHD
Dozen for short.

That was what
I
called them, anyway.
And believe me, the name fit like a glove. A glove that couldn't
sit still for more than thirty seconds at a time.

"Hey!" I grabbed the last
one of the bunch by her upper arm and swung her around to face me.
"Where's the
fire
,
Milly?"

Milly's bone china face was flushed
from running. She panted, letting out puffs of breath that sent her
jet black bangs fluttering. "They're gonna tell us any minute! The
big surprise, Auntie Lottie!" Like the rest of the ADHD Dozen, she
wasn't a day over eight. She was the oldest at seven and a half or
three quarters, I couldn't remember which.

I sighed and looked across the hall.
The band had stopped playing, though Eddie Kubiak Sr. and Eddie Jr.
still stood at opposite corners of the stage with accordions at the
ready. Between them stood Basil Sloveski, my dad's attorney. Basil
was a tan little guy in platform shoes and a sharp black suit with
a gold pinstripe. His stiff pompadour was the subject of the worst
ongoing dye job in history; his hair was so perfectly,
light-suckingly black, it looked like he'd been dipped upside-down
in a tub of tar.

"What's it gonna
be
, Auntie Lottie?" Milly
wriggled in my grasp, overcome with excitement. "What do
you
think?"

There were lots of possibilities, but
I didn't bother running through them. "I guess we'll find out soon,
honey." With that, I let go of Milly's arm, and she shot away from
me into the crowd like a bottle rocket in a black dress and
stocking feet.

Just then, I heard Polish Peg clear
her throat behind me. "They're waiting for us, Lottie."

For a moment, I'd forgotten
she was back there. Turning, I slipped her a scowl. "Waiting for us
to do
what
?"

"Get up there." Peg stepped up beside
me and pointed at the stage. "Lou wanted us both on stage when
Basil makes his announcement."

Already I didn't like where this was
headed. "Us? On stage?"

Peg pushed up her polka dot eyeglasses
and nodded. "That's what the instructions called for. Your dad was
very specific. He'd given this a lot of thought."

"Seriously?" I shook my head. "Not
gonna happen. I can hear perfectly fine from back here."

"Lottie." Peg fixed me in her fly-eyed
gaze. "Please just do this. For your father. Just get it over
with."

I was about to put my foot down for
good when I heard my ex-boyfriend Eddie Jr.'s voice over the P.A.
system. "There they are! In the back!"

Next came Eddie Sr.'s gravelly bass
voice. "Let's hear it for Polish Peg and Lottie, everyone!" He
reeled off some notes on his accordion. "Get on up here, girls!
We'll play your fanfare!"

With that, both Eddies launched into a
number, an accordion duet that sounded like a riff from "The Beer
Barrel Polka." All eyes in the room turned on us, and the crowd
exploded with applause.

Peg gave me a look that said it all.
And I knew she was right; I didn't have a choice
anymore.

Taking a deep breath, I
gathered myself up and managed a weak smile. It would have to be
enough, because I didn't feel like smiling even
that
much.

I looked at Peg and waved for her to
go first. She was the celebrity, after all; she'd been co-hosting a
radio show with Lou for thirteen years now, co-managing his band,
and co-organizing the annual Polkapourri festival. People were
crazy about her in New Krakow...people who weren't in my family,
that is. She was practically royalty.

People beamed and applauded as they
opened a path to the stage. Peg waved as she passed, walking with
her peculiar bandy-legged, boyish swagger.

I followed, wishing with all my heart
that I was somewhere else. Wishing that this day, this month, this
year had never happened. Things had been going so well for so long,
and now here I was, back in the town I'd worked so hard to get away
from, at my dead father's wake.

And I had to go up on stage with
Polish Peg for God knew what surprise, when all I wanted to do was
find a dark motel room and a carton of cigarettes and cry like a
baby for a week.

When I caught sight of my mother near
the stage, I knew she was on the same wavelength. My stomach ached
just to see the look on her face; I wanted to put my arms around
her at that instant and not let go.

Though Lou had left her fifteen years
ago for a younger woman, Mom was still deeply shaken by his death.
She looked as shell-shocked as she'd been the day he'd walked away
from her. She looked utterly and completely lost.

I held her gaze for a moment as I
walked past. As crazy as she made me sometimes--especially
tag-teaming with my grandmother, Baba Tereska--I still loved her
with all my heart. I hated to see her upset like that.

I hated my dad a little, too, for not
thinking of her when he planned this polka party nonsense. For not
thinking of any of us who just needed to grieve without being part
of a spectacle. As usual, he hadn't been able to resist playing the
showman.

It was something he had in
common with Eddie Kubiak, Sr. As Peg and I drew up to the edge of
the stage, Eddie Sr. cranked out a blistering accordion riff,
rocking back and forth with furious intensity. When he'd finished,
he flung his arms in the air and shouted over the roaring crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen!
Panie i
panowie
! Let's hear it for the one and only
Polish Peg Bohachik and Lottie Kachowski!"

Eddie Sr. took Peg's hand and pulled
her up onto the stage. Eddie Jr. did the same for me, which was the
first time we'd touched in twelve years. He let go and looked away
as soon as both of my feet were on the stage.

"And now the moment you've all been
waiting for!" Eddie Sr. threw his arm around Peg's shoulders and
pumped his fist in the air. "It's time to experience the last big
secret surprise of the late, great Polish Lou!"

Chapter 4

 

As I looked out over the
crowd in the banquet hall, the Furies glared back at me in disgust.
There were three of them, all dressed in black, all with raven
black hair, and they were my sisters.

Bonnie, the oldest and
tallest, stood in the middle. Her brown eyes framed a big, angular
nose that gave her the look of a hawk. Her hair was long, draped
over her shoulders, but not nearly as long as mine.

Charlie stood at her side.
She was shorter and rounder than any of us, with plump cheeks and
dark blue eyes. Her hair was cut in a kind of dowdy helmet 'do that
made her look older than she was, older than any of us.

Then there was Ellie, the
youngest. She looked like an anorexic teen, all skin and bones and
giant blue eyes so pale they were almost white. Those eyes peering
out from her shag haircut with the spiky bangs looked perpetually
challenging, always ready to go off.

Which, actually, described her personality.
All
three
of the
Furies' personalities.

Boy did they have capital
"T" tempers. They were always,
always
fighting with each other,
shifting alliances, holding grudges on top of grudges.

But today, for once, they
were united against a common object of resentment.
Me
, in other words. I had
the honor of having brought them together in harmony. I could see
it in their body language as they all clustered together and stared
up at me through slitted eyes. I could feel it in the air, and I
could guess what had brought it on.

They were mad that I was the
only sister called up on stage. It didn't matter that I
didn't
want
to be
there; I knew my sisters, and I
knew
this was eating them
alive.

It was just the latest in a
series of injustices. First, I'd gone off to Los Angeles while
they'd all stayed in town and given birth to the ADHD Dozen. Then,
I'd gotten engaged, while the best they'd been able to manage was a
string of deadbeat baby daddies. Now this.

I knew I'd pay for it later,
but I chose to ignore them for now. Basil Sloveski was waving a
number ten white business envelope over his giant silver
pompadour.

"All right, folks!" The
corners of Basil's eyes crinkled as he grinned. Up close, I could
see his whole overtanned face was a web of fine lines. "Without
further ado!"

The crowd roared (except for
the Furies, who just rolled their eyes) and pumped beers in the
air. The ADHD Dozen squirmed their way up front and lined up along
the stage, screeching and dancing like idiots.

"How about a drum roll,
guys?" When Basil said it, Eddie Sr.'s ancient drummer hopped up on
the stage, raised his bony arms in a weight-lifter's pose with
fists curled toward his shaggy white head, and dropped down on the
squeaky red stool behind his drum kit.

As the drum roll started,
Basil slid a fingernail under the corner of the envelope flap, then
dragged his nail along the length of the flap, tearing it open with
a ripping sound.

My heart pounded, and I held
my breath. As badly as I didn't want to be there, I was actually
caught up in the suspense. Polish Lou's showmanship had broken
through even my tough exterior.

The kids down in front
couldn't stand the suspense either. They were hopping up and down,
clawing at the stage, having conniptions. Milly spoke for all of
them. "
What?
What's it
say?
"

Basil slipped two tanned fingers into
the envelope and drew out a folded sheet of paper. He cleared his
throat as he unfolded it, playing up the drama.

Then, he started reading.
"Dear fellow polka lovers!" The drum roll continued in the
background as Basil's voice rang over the crowd. "As you know, I've
been called the Prince of Pennsylvania Polka."

The crowd roared its
approval.

"But now that the
Prince
is dead, who will
rule his
kingdom
?"
Basil paused and looked around the banquet hall for dramatic
effect. "Who will be my
successor
?"

"
Who?
Who?
"
squeaked one of the kids down in front.

"Who will carry on the
tradition of great polka music as leader of my band, Polish Fly?"
read Basil. "Who will continue to broadcast three hours of
polkatacular tunetasticness every Saturday morning and Sunday
afternoon on my radio show,
Kocham
Taniec
?

BOOK: Polkacide
12.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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