by Shady Grim
“Emmy, put that album away before yeh eat yer lunch. I don’t want yeh gettin’ it messy.” As she disappeared down the hall, he turned to me and whispered, “Why do yeh have to tell ‘er that stuff?”
“She has a right to know about her family. Why does it bother you so much?” Of course, I knew precisely why, but I wanted him to talk about it.
“I just don’t know how yeh can talk about it, that’s all.”
“Talking about them keeps them close to me.”
He went back to his drawing and said nothing more. It was difficult for him, and I understood that. He liked to keep fond memories locked safely away, whereas mine were worn with use. The telling and retelling of old stories kept the past alive for me. It helped me cope with the absence of loved ones, but for Ethan it was a cruel reminder of what can never be. He liked to reminisce about the fun things that he and I did, and things he did with friends because we were all still here with him and could share in the memories. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he never liked to be alone and I suppose he felt that same sense of lonesomeness in his thoughts when he knew that old memories could never be enhanced by new ones. It was just too painful for him to think about how my parents had never seen or held his child, and that any stories of them that she heard would, for her, forever be just stories. They would neither fill her up with a sense of familiar warmth, nor leave her empty with only cold and stinging tears in her eyes. They were someone else’s thoughts, experiences, and memories, and they had no substance for her. To Emily, they were only words that she could assign to old and faded photographs.
We were not permitted to see his grand work until after we cleaned up the lunch dishes. Emily was so impressed with his artwork that she asked him to frame it for her so she could hang it on her wall. Granted, anything that he drew for her, no matter how small a doodle, ended up hanging on her wall, but I agreed with her that this piece was exceptionally good and deserved a place of honor. As I gazed at it, I remembered the intact pane that my mother had loved so dearly. Ethan remembered it so clearly that he accurately drew in the Latin phrase which he didn’t know the meaning of. The scene depicted four angels standing in a row. The one that was second to the left was St. Michael and above his head on a flowing purple banner was the phrase; “Quis ut Deus,” which translates to “Who is as God?” and is a clear reference to the angel himself. He stood facing forward in an indomitable pose and had a thin angular face with shoulder length hair of dark brown. He wore shimmering silver armor and held the golden scales of justice in his left hand, and a fiery sword held upright in his right. He had a confident, but serene expression. The angel to Michael’s immediate left was Gabriel, his name shown above his head on another flowing purple banner. He too faced forward, his shoulder set evenly with Michael’s, but he favored a more cavalier pose. He had a pleasant, almost mischievous, expression and a similar bone structure as Michael, and long but neatly kept blonde hair. He wore glimmering golden armor and a sword on his left hip. It had a silver hilt and scabbard with flamboyant gold detailing. Tucked under his left arm was his familiar golden trumpet. To Gabriel’s immediate left stood Uriel with his name emblazoned above his head in the same manner as the others. He had a thick shock of unruly red hair and a broad round face. He had a fiercely determined expression and was of a stockier build than the others. He wore armor of glittering bronze and held an unadorned golden dagger in his left hand and a solid, but equally simple, golden sword in his right. He stood turned slightly to his right, facing somewhat towards the other three, and was poised as if ready for battle. The fourth angel stood to Michael’s immediate right. The name Raphael was inscribed above his head exactly the same way as the others, and he wore armor of iridescent ivory. He had a fine bone structure and closely cropped dark hair. He stood turned to his left with his eyes facing forward. He held in his left hand a tall golden spear, which he appeared to be leaning on, and draped across his right forearm was a golden caduceus. He wore a soft benevolent expression that I found very soothing, something I hadn’t appreciated as a child. Uriel had temperamental eyes of emerald green. Michael and Gabriel both had eyes of a deep and pure blue. Raphael’s eyes, which I found the most captivating, were a light and glittering copper. All four angels wore long flowing mantles of sky blue. The entire scene was enhanced by a stunningly rich pale-amber background. It was a peculiar depiction to be sure, but the oddest thing about it was that all four of the angels appeared to be standing in a glade, and were surrounded by small trees bearing red berries.
“My, that is exquisite. Kudos to you, Ethan,” I said as I stood over his shoulder and clapped him on the back.
He turned to me with his eyebrows up. “Dude, that was very nerdly of yeh. What the hell did they do to yeh in medical school?”
“Heather’s not a nerd!” said Emily with some irritation.
“Thank you, Emily.”
“I didn’t say she was a nerd. I’m just sayin’ that she has strong nerd-like tendencies.”
“Oh dear, am I turning into your brothers?” I put my hand over my heart in a show of mock anxiety.
“No, they ain’t nerds. They’re dweebs, and that’s a whole other species.”
“Well, I’ll try to leave my nerdliness at the office from now on.”
“I think that would be a good idea.” He slid the sheet into a folder and handed the entire kit back to Emmy. “Put this in a safe place ‘til I can frame it.” She nodded her head and ran out of the kitchen with her new treasure held firmly against her chest.
“You really should take some art classes. It would be a crime to waste such a gift.”
“Yeah, maybe when I get back on my feet,” he mumbled as he poked around in the refrigerator for a snack.
“I know a place that has classes on the weekends. It’s not far from here, and it might be fun for you and Emmy. It would get you out of the house at least.”
“I’ll think about it,” he muttered. “Let’s get this kitchen finished. I wanna get started on the front porch as soon as possible.”
It took us a little over three weeks to finish the kitchen. I had to go to work during the day, which left Ethan by himself, and he seemed to work more slowly than usual as he was preoccupied with making plans for the remodeling of the front porch. He insisted that it was a hazard and that someone was bound to get injured. I was well aware that it was in no greater state of disrepair than the rest of the house, but I assumed that he had something special planned for it, and so I agreed to finish the odds-and-ends in the kitchen myself. I really didn’t care what part of the house was finished first and, to tell the truth, I was just happy to see him flexing his creative muscles again. He remarked that, although we generally came and went through the back porch, it was the front porch that was the gateway to the house, and its condition should reflect its status. It made little difference to me, but I thought it a lovely sentiment.
I occasionally performed general surgery and on this evening, just before I left for home, I was called away from the office for an emergency. I called home and asked Ethan to pick up Thor for me, and told him that I didn’t know when I’d be finished so he shouldn’t make any dinner for me. When I did finally reach home, it was four hours later than usual. No one heard my truck pull up because Ethan had the stereo turned up so loud. Thor was the only one to greet me when I entered the kitchen. I went to the living room to find Ethan dancing with a blanket tied around his waist and two balloons stuffed in his t-shirt to double as breasts. He was doing his own wacky interpretation of the can-can and Emmy was laughing so hard that she was having difficulty keeping up with him. I stopped at the door to watch them. It had been a long time since I’d seen him do something like that and, in fact, this was mild compared to some of things I’d seen him do. I thought it a great shame that Emmy had never had the chance to see her dad’s flamboyant sense of humor in full swing. He bent down and gave her a hip check that sent her sailing onto the couch. She lay there, wracked with laughte
r, when he finally noticed me standing in the doorway. He took off the blanket, threw it over Emmy’s head, and moved to turn down the stereo’s volume.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you do that.” I leaned against the doorway with my arms folded over my chest. I was exhausted.
“Yeah, I know, it’s been awhile. But I don’t ever remember gettin’ so outta breath.”
“And...I see you still keep a stash of balloons in your truck.” Ethan insisted that balloons were the true key to happiness and made sure that he always kept of bag of them in the glove compartment of his truck. He liked to use them when he wanted to get around a shy child, and also when he performed his “balloon-sculpting act,” where everything he made looked like an egg. He also loved water-balloon fights and was known to have them even in the middle of winter.
“Well, no one can be unhappy for long when there’re balloons around. Yer really late, I hope nobody died.”
“No, the patient is fine now, just a little bleeding problem.”
“Yeh see that, Em, yer cousin saved somebody’s life tonight. I want yeh to do stuff like that when yer grown.”
Emily pulled the blanket away from her face and replied, “But I don’t wanna be a doctor, Dad. I wanna build stuff...and race motorcycles.”
“I’ll get yeh a motorcycle when yer a little older, but no construction. I want yeh to do smart stuff. Now let’s go, it’s bedtime.”
Emmy sat up and threw the blanket on the back of the couch and stormed past him. She hollered a “Good night!” to me as she ascended the stairs with her father behind her. He stopped and yelled, “I bought yeh an eggplant parmesan. It’s in the fridge.”
I yelled back a “Good night.” to Emmy and a “Thanks.” to Ethan, and proceeded to the kitchen to reheat my sandwich. Ethan joined me just as I sat down to eat my dinner. He opened the fridge and took out three chocolate éclairs and a grape soda and sat in the chair across from me to eat his snack.
“Eeeew, grape soda and éclairs, that’s disgusting,” I cringed.
“To each ‘is own,” he replied snottily. “I want yeh to help me convince Emmy to go to college.”
“She’s only eight, give her time. Badgering her isn’t the best way to get her interested in school.”
“I just don’t want ‘er doin’ the kinda work I do. I want ‘er to be smart and classy and have an easier life.”
“Money doesn’t give people class, and there’s nothing wrong with her using her hands to make a living. Preferring a blue-collar job doesn’t make someone less intelligent and certainly not less useful. If she applies herself properly, she can make a very good living. How many doctors, or lawyers, or scientists can add a room onto their own homes, or fix plumbing leaks, or fix their own cars? You have to let her do what makes her happy. She’s going to make her own choices when she’s older anyway. All you can do is try to give her the tools to make wise choices.”
“I don’t want ‘er to be around a bad element.” He slumped so far down that his face almost touched the table.
“She’s not around a bad element. She’s with you, and that’s exactly what she needs. Teach her how to use her talents. Show her what you know and when she’s bigger, she’ll go even further than you, just like you did with my dad.” I had picked up a few things from my dad, but I didn’t have much of an interest in home or auto repair, and I certainly didn’t have my cousin’s aptitude for both. Dad was very happy to have someone to pass his knowledge to, and Ethan was happy for the individual attention. It was well worth all the lies he had to tell his parents about his whereabouts and activities. Ethan learned a lot from my father, and he very quickly surpassed my dad’s knowledge and abilities. When my father passed, it was Ethan who inherited all of his tools, which would later be passed on to Emily. Even the old, green, pickup truck he still drove was a junker that my dad had picked up for a project vehicle. They worked on it every weekend for two years. My parents presented him with the keys to it the day he passed his driver’s exam.
“I thought with ‘er bein’ good with ‘er hands and all, that she could be a good surgeon.”
“Being good with her hands won’t make her a surgeon. If she has your weak stomach, you can forget it ever happening. You are so lucky that you and your child share the same interests and abilities. You could have a lot of happy memories together, and she deserves to make those memories with you. She deserves the right to pass her experiences on to her own children–”
“Oh no! She ain’t havin’ any kids!”
“Why not?” I asked, thinking she had a medical condition that I hadn’t been told about.
“I got it all figured out. I’ll have one girl and all the rest’ll be boys. That way I can have my grandchildren by the boys, and I can ruin Emmy so bad that no one will ever want ‘er, and then she’ll never leave me.”
“That is really sick.”
“Yeah, well let’s see what yeh think when yeh have yer own kids.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, but Emmy’s going to grow up and leave you.”
“Shut up, Heather!”
“She’s going to have a life of her own, and a lover of her own, and–”
“I ain’t listenin’ to this!” He put his fingers in his ears and started humming. I noticed Emmy standing in the doorway and pointed for Ethan to look her way. “I ain’t fallin’ for that,” he yelled with his fingers still in his ears. I asked her what she wanted, and she walked over to her father and tugged on his shirt. “What’re yeh doin’ up, little woman?”
“We forgot the surprise,” she whispered.
“Oh shit, we did!” He slapped his palm against his forehead.
“What surprise?” I said, and was instructed to close my eyes while they guided me to whatever it was.
“No peekin’,” said Emily as she took my hand.
Of course, Ethan couldn’t resist shoving me into the hall table. “Ooops,” he said facetiously and ordered me to shut my eyes again when I opened them to glare at him. They guided me into the foyer.
“Surprise!” yelled Emmy as she closed the front door so I could see the stained glass beautifully restored and back in its rightful place.
“I thought you said that it would take months to finish. It’s been less than one.”
“I know, the guy called me this mornin’ right after yeh left for work. When I went to pick it up, he said that he was amazed at the condition it was in. There were no scratches or chippin’ or fadin’. It almost looks like it was made yesterday. All he had to do was redo the lead pieces.” He pointed to the joints on the pane as he spoke. “And get this, he said that in his opinion, it looks like it was made by a master craftsman and the best he could tell is it’s probably as old as the house. He said he’s never seen anythin’ quite like it. I brought it home and put it back in the door myself.”
“And I washed it,” chimed Emily who stood in front of us admiring the pane and her own handiwork. I had immediately noticed the many streaks and smudges and child size fingerprints all over the bottom of the pane, and on the etched glass that was on either side of the door. Both etched pieces were of climbing roses in full bloom. Their elegant simplicity was in stark contrast to the eye-catching stained glass in the middle.
“And a fine job you did too,” I said and she beamed with pride. “Now I see why my mother loved it so much. It’s breathtaking. I can see her standing here cleaning it right now.”
Ethan leaned over to me and whispered, “Not like...for real, right?”
“No, not for real. You can rest assured that my mother is not haunting the foyer.” He let out a sigh of relief, and I shook my head in irritation as I should’ve known not to say such a thing in front of him, knowing full well how superstitious he was.
“I think he looks like yeh, Dad,” said Emmy as she pointed to Gabriel.
“You’re right, Emmy, he does look like your dad. That’s amazing,” I said as I looked from Ethan to Gabriel.
“Well, that
’s as close to an angel as yer dad’s ever gonna get, Em.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned his head back and frowned. He frequently did this when he was closely examining something. Emily, of course, had already adopted the exact same pose just before she announced her discovery. “Nah, I’m better lookin’ than that guy. Okay, little woman, back to bed.” As Ethan and Emily climbed the stairs, he stopped and turned to holler back to me, “I left the receipt for that on yer desk.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“And yeh know that credit card yeh gave me to pay the guy with?”
“Yes,” I answered apprehensively.
“Well, it seems yeh bought yerself a real nice barbecue grill with it.”
I chased after him, and he ran up the stairs and down the hallway laughing heartily. He picked up Emmy, who was also giggling, and used her as a shield so I couldn’t “chastise” him.
After spending the next morning and some of the afternoon helping Ethan and listening to his many complaints about the state of the front porch, I decided to take a rest from him and weed my vegetable garden. Emily, who had given up trying to get Thor to play fetch, came with me. She explained to me that since Thor was old and miserable, it would be to our advantage to get a few puppies. I told her that if she took very good care of the guinea pigs that I would think about getting some more dogs. I would prefer to get some big dogs from a rescue, but I’d be sure to get at least one that was more playful than Thor. My suggestion was satisfactory, and she ran to tell her father the good news. A short time later, she came back to search for Nicky and give him his evening meal.
