Art by Brian Price |
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by Louis Gallo Here’s a great-grandfather, nobody knows which. See the bullet lodged in his forehead? Lived with it for forty years, protruding like that, imagine. People were different then. When it fell out he stuck in another one carved from bamboo. Little Richie, when he died Uncle Ambrose shrunk into a raisin so black they had to buy more lamps. Aunt Lil says he slept with Richie’s picture in his hand. Now that’s love. Such a nice little boy too, gentle as mist. There’s evil out there and it’s hungry. That’s what gobbled up Richie. Remember Miss Cleezio? Don’t give me that, sure you do. She scared you to death. When she came over, in the kitchen . . . remember? She laughed so hard she peed all over the linoleum. We like to died. Don’t tell me you don’t remember Miss Cleezio. This is blind Hankie who lived next door with Mary and Miss Yunt. Why’d you hate Miss Yunt so much? God, she must have been a hundred years old even then. He gave you bright new pennies and you let him run his fingers over your face to feel what you looked like. He played piano in a Bourbon Street night club. See, no matter how unlucky you are . . . God, the zinc salve they smeared on his skin for acne. That’s why he smelled so bad. You used to love Hankie but he made Ruthie nervous. I guess he’s dead now, like everybody. Look, it’s me! Wasn’t I gorgeous? About fourteen, maybe, when I first met your father on a bus. I swear he followed me all the way to Canal Street and back. I was bringing MaMaw’s watch to Adler’s for cleaning. If he didn’t just plop beside me on the seat and start talking a mile a minute. I was so flabbergasted I didn’t say a word the whole trip. Then he found out I lived around the corner. Well, you know what happened. I told him I was eighteen. Two weeks later he proposed! I never once looked at another man, before or after, and don’t think I didn’t have the chance. It’s Tony, that black fellow who worked for your father down at the shop. Never a peep out of him, always showed up on time, you can’t find a man like him today. Then he went berserk in one of those places they go and started stabbing people with a screwdriver. Don’t you know one of the drunks walks up, points a pistol at his forehead and pulls the trigger. Daddy heard it was terrible, Tony’s brains all over the walls. Uncle Jake, what a nasty old man. They put him away after Emma died until he got caught in bed with a nurse! He only had one tooth and no mind at all. What’s wrong with people? She was half his age with three children. One of them died of polio. Well, they kicked Jake out and fired her. He went back to the house where he and Emma used to live and just sits there in the dark. For years now. If it wasn’t for a neighbor who kind of looks out for him . . . Not me, I wouldn’t go there if you paid me. That man always had roaming hands even when Marie was alive. Used to corner me at the parties. His fingers felt like thumb tacks. Honey, I’m glad you’re here but I can’t keep my eyes open-- oh, look, you and Ruthie at the beach, this was Florida, Tarpon Springs, I think, remember the wonderful sponges!-- we can look more tomorrow if you want. I’m falling asleep. Memories make you tired. When I think how I used to keep going hour after hour . . . day and night too . . . nothing good about getting old. And look at you! And Ruthie, I’m worried about her. How’d so much happen to us all? In so few pages. . . . oh, look--this is really old. I think they call it a tintype. We don’t know where it came from. Doesn’t it look like a skull? So corroded you can hardly make out anything. I’ve tried to wipe it off but grime like that just won’t clean. You just have to live with it. |
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