Suncatchers (40 page)

Eldeen looked up and motioned to him excitedly. “I seen all kinds of wonders in nature,” she said fervently, “but I never,
never
did see anything to match this! You just got to come see this, Perry.” She got up slowly, shaking her head. “What is man, that thou art mindful of him?” she said, her voice tremulous.

A few minutes later they were back inside. “Thank you, thank you, for sharing your new telescope with us, Willard,” Eldeen said. “That's some wonderful piece of equipment. Wait till I tell Inez and Juanita and the rest of 'em at the G.O.O.D. Store about
this
.” She sat down heavily at the kitchen table as if exhausted by the marvels she had witnessed. “Which token you want?” she asked Perry. He set his gift and card down on the counter. “We already picked ours,” Eldeen continued. “I got the thimble, Jewel's got the shoe, Joe Leonard's got the ship, and Willard's got the cannon.” She held each piece aloft as she named it. “That leaves the hat, the iron, the race car, the locomotive, the dog . . .”

“I'll take the dog,” Perry said, taking the empty chair at the end of the table. He wondered if anyone had ever done a study in which a player's personality was analyzed based on which Monopoly token he chose:
“The person who chooses the little terrier is intelligent, warm-hearted, and loyal. Though he is often shy and appears to be aloof, he earnestly desires affection and approval from those he loves. He enjoys the outdoors but is also artistic and . . .”

“Did you hear that, Perry?” Eldeen said. “And it says here in this little book that when the doctor examined him at the hospital, he wrote out a prescription that said, ‘Go directly to jail.'” She doubled over in laughter and pounded the table with both hands so hard that all the little tokens bounced straight up and toppled over. Perry looked over at the booklet Eldeen had spread open on the table. The page, titled “Monopoly Mania,” was full of zany facts about Monopoly tournaments held in prisons, in a huge aquarium, on a peak in the German Alps, and during a train robbery.

“Well, let's put the book back in the box, Mama, and get started or else we won't have time to finish,” Jewel said, setting the tokens back up. As Eldeen closed the book, Perry saw a list of “Marathon Records” at the bottom of the page. One of them said “Longest game in a moving elevator: 384 hours.”

It occurred to Perry as he studied the Monopoly board that the colors were at least arranged a little more systematically than in Fern Tucker's rainbow poem, but still not as precisely as those of the skylight prisms spangling the mall floor earlier today. He was glad the Monopoly board designers had chosen such rich, vivid shades of color. He thought suddenly of writing the L. L. Bean Company and suggesting they use Monopoly street designations for their catalog. Everybody would instantly recognize the colors: Baltic Avenue Purple, St. Charles Place Magenta, Illinois Avenue Red, Boardwalk Blue.

“I read somewhere that there's a national Monopoly tournament every year,” Willard said, “and the winner even goes on to the World Championship. One year the prize was a free trip to anyplace in the whole world, all expenses paid.”

“Oh, just imagine that!” Eldeen cried. “Why, if I won a prize like that, I would be mighty hard put to make up my mind. I've always wanted to go someplace Oriental—I can't say just why exactly, but them pagodas and kimonos and rickshaws and all just fascinates me. I like chop suey a lot, too, like Marvella can fix. But then, I think it'd be real interesting, too, to visit Egypt and Israel and all them Middle Eastern places close around where Jesus lived. Just think of walking through the Garden of Gethsemane! My, my. And
France
—the Jelliffs next door went there and lived for a whole year when Mr. Jelliff was in the army, and Emily said . . .”

“Mama, go ahead and roll. We're seeing who goes first,” Jewel said. Eldeen rolled a four.

“ . . . that all them little French cafés was just the quaintest things. They just fell in love with France and have all kinds of souvenirs settin' around their house—you should just see 'em all. They got this heavy iron doorstop in the shape of the Eiffel Tower. And, of course, Mozelle, their French poodle—although she's not a souvenir . . .”

“And the race is on!” said Willard, who had rolled an eleven. He cupped the dice in his huge hands, pretended to whisper to them, then tossed them across the board. He got all the way to Pennsylvania Railroad on his turn.

“I know them folks up in Pennsylvania must be about to
bust
rooting for their home team,” Eldeen said. “I wouldn't mind seeing the Phillies win myself, even if they did beat out the Braves. They better hop to it, though, 'cause they sure are in a hole right now.” As Willard slid the dice over to Perry, Eldeen told about seeing a Braves sponge tomahawk sitting in the backseat of a car two days earlier. “It looked so faded and limp and lonesome, it almost made me cry,” she said. “It just reminded me all over again how fleeting fame is—and life, too! One day a ball team's all the go, and the next thing you know, they been beat and left in the dust.”

Perry picked up the dice slowly. He wondered if Eldeen was going to talk through the whole game as she had done during the dominoes game last week. He remembered how hard it had been to concentrate, how the dots had seemed to leap up off the dominoes and dance around devilishly every time he tried to count them.

“Did I tell you, Jewel, what Emily told me about Mozelle's back?” Eldeen asked. Jewel shook her head as Perry rolled the dice. “Looking at Perry's little dog there on Go made me think of it,” Eldeen continued. “They'd noticed that Mozelle was walking real stiff and painful-like, and she'd stopped jumping up to greet them like she usually did—oh, looka there, Perry rolled hisself double fives! Aren't you glad you're just
visitin'
and not behind bars?” She slapped at his hand playfully as he picked up the dice to roll again.

“So anyway, Emily took Mozelle with her next time she went to the chiropractor and snuck in the back door so the regular customers wouldn't see—well, I'll be! If he didn't roll double fives again! You sure you shook 'em around, Perry?” She grinned trollishly. “Too bad there's not a lick of money on Free Parking or you'd be sittin' pretty. So, anyway, the chiropractor like to fell over when he saw Emily come in carrying Mozelle. But he was a good sport about it, Emily said, and asked her to help him hold Mozelle on the table while he felt around.”

“It's your turn now, Mama,” Jewel said.

Eldeen rolled a seven and landed on Chance. “Oooheee!” she hollered when she picked up the card. “Bank pays me a dividend of fifty dollars it says! Pay up, pay up!” she cried, holding out her hand to Joe Leonard, who was the banker. He gave her a fifty-dollar bill, then picked up the dice for his own turn.

“And so that chiropractor
did
feel something out of line in Mozelle's little old back, and he grabbed her real quicklike before she had a chance to turn skittish and he gave her a jerk, like that!” Eldeen clapped her hands. “Now that's a discouragin' way to start out, Joe Leonard—landing on Income Tax right off. And you know, Emily said she actually
heard
something crack in Mozelle's back—a little tiny pop—and Mozelle gave a little yelp and just leaped up from there a new dog!”

Perry glanced at Willard, who was following Eldeen's story attentively. “And is the dog walking better now?” Willard asked.

“Oh, you should just see her!” Eldeen exclaimed. “Yesterday she was in the Jelliffs' backyard just chargin' at Hormel on the other side of the fence, like she was ready to tear him up! I watched her with my mouth hangin' open, thinkin' ‘Is this the same dog I saw mopin' around a few days ago, hardly able to squat down?'”

“Look, Mama, I landed right here with you on Chance,” Jewel said. She studied her card, wrinkled her nose, and said, “Only mine isn't as good as yours was. I have to pay a poor tax of fifteen dollars.”

“I sure hope that chiropractor washed his hands before he called in his next customer!” Eldeen said.

Two hours later they pushed the game board carefully to the end of the table and set about getting ready for refreshments. Jewel started arranging candles on top of the cake, and Joe Leonard got out plates and a half-gallon of ice cream. Eldeen trundled down the hallway to one of the back rooms and returned with several small gifts.

Willard smiled broadly as Jewel walked to the table bearing the cake, its forty-two candles aglow. “Better call the fire department,” he said, and Eldeen whooped with laughter. Jewel led out with “Happy Birthday,” and everyone joined in.

Just as Willard was inhaling to blow out the candles, he straightened and pointed to the counter. “Oh, I forgot something. Grab my camera there, would you, Perry, and snap a picture of this happy occasion. Push that button on the back of the flash first. Come on, I want all the rest of you in the picture, too.”

As he held the camera up to his eye, Perry realized he hadn't done this for almost a year. “Hold it just a second,” he said, adjusting the focus, then checking for the ready signal on the flash. “There now, everybody, get in closer around Willard. There you go. Now Eldeen, lean over toward Joe Leonard more. All right, now . . . Jewel, could you turn more to your right—no, not quite that much. And look up this way a little more. Okay, now hold it right there, everybody. Let me see . . . where's the . . . oh, here it is.” Just before he clicked the shutter, Perry studied the smiling foursome through the camera lens—Eldeen on the end, her lips spread wide so that her dentures gleamed like miniature Chiclets; Joe Leonard wedged between Eldeen and Willard, looking embarrassed; Willard, smiling beatifically, hunched forward toward the cake sparkling with its galaxy of candles; and Jewel, sitting on the end next to Willard, her chin lifted, a chaste, contemplative smile lighting her face.

“Can't you find the button, Perry?” Eldeen asked, her smile still stretched taut.

“Here we go, everybody,” Perry said. The flash expelled a burst of light.

“You better blow out the candles before they drip on the cake,” Jewel said quickly, and Willard took in a mighty breath.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Did you make a wish? No use blowing out candles if you don't make a wish!” Eldeen said.

“Oh, I made forty-two of them,” Willard said. He inhaled again and then held his breath for a moment, scanning the top of the cake as if planning his strategy.

Wouldn't it be nice, Perry thought, if that's the way life worked? Make a wish, blow out the candles, and your wish would come true. Make a wish, throw a penny in the well. Make a wish, wave a magic wand. Make a wish, pull the wishbone. Make a wish, stroke the genie's lantern. No, he was getting things out of order now. You rubbed the lantern first,
then
made the wish.

“Well, well, well, you got 'em all but three,” Eldeen said admiringly. “I guess that means you'll get thirty-nine of your wishes. Here, open up your cards and presents.”

The Monopoly game finally ended at eleven-thirty when Joe Leonard rolled doubles and landed on Ventnor Avenue. He was able to pay Perry the $1,150 after selling all the houses on his green property, but then he rolled a ten and landed on Park Place.

“That's it!” Eldeen exclaimed. She had been out of the game almost an hour and had already changed into her bathrobe. “Perry's the big millionaire of the night! He cleaned us all out of cash! That little old dog of his just hightailed it around the board and hardly ever stepped in anything he shouldn't of!” She threw her head back and laughed at her joke.

Willard thumped him on the back. “Congratulations, Perry. I thought I'd included the Monopoly game in my list of wishes a while ago, but it must have been one of the candles I didn't blow out.” Everybody laughed.

“Here, Joe Leonard, I'll help you put away all the filthy lucre,” Eldeen said. She held up a five-hundred-dollar bill and waved it around. “Just remember, everybody, this here won't buy you happiness. Godliness with contentment is great gain.” By the time she had finished, her smile had died, and she had grown suddenly solemn.

Perry and Willard left together a few minutes later. In the driveway Willard extended his hand. “Thanks for the coffee. I'm flattered that you remembered how much I like it. I'll take a Thermos of it to work with me in the morning. It'll help keep me awake while I put bar codes on the new bird books we got.”

“Bird books?” Perry said.

“Yeah, some man over in Berea was this big bird aficionado, and his widow just donated his whole library to us.”

Suddenly Perry thought of something. “Do you know much about birds?” he asked.

Willard's head was lifted, and his eyes searched the small gems of stars dotting the night sky. “Well, some . . . not really much, though. Why?”

“I was wondering about . . . well, doves. Do you know anything about the ones we have around here?”

“Oh, nothing much except that they're in the same family as pigeons and the male and female take turns incubating the eggs and . . . oh yes, I believe they mate for life. Why? You including the native flora and fauna in your book about us local yokels?”

Perry felt relieved to hear that they mated for life, as if some small, irritating rattle had quieted. “No, no . . . it's nothing really. I was just wondering—that's all.”

“Well . . .” Willard looked up at the sky again and sighed contentedly.

“Well, good night,” Perry said. “And . . . I hope those thirty-nine wishes come true.” He started off toward his house.

“I'll settle for just one,” Willard called after him, laughing. “Look at those stars, would you? Star light, star bright . . .”