Two Walls and a Roof
Page 44
As he showed me this beautiful hand carved pistol, he could clearly see that I fell instantly in love with it, and then he promised to give it to me ‘before he passed away’.
I remembered his humour and what we called his ‘Earlisms’. These were sayings he had that were unique to him. One time I had thought about buying a ticket for a local car raffle, and Earl gave me this advice. In his slow southern accent he said, “Well John…if I were you I would save my money because those people are so crooked that when they die, we will have to screw them into the ground,” an ‘Earlism’ I’ll never forget.
Over the following years on my many visits to America, we had become great friends, and sometimes I felt that he thought of me as the son he never had.
As I thought of those days, for some strange reason my memory returned to an earlier day in West Cork just before our Arizona trip, when JoAnn had told me that her hands were hurting. She said that whenever her hands hurt, it was a sign that bad news was coming, and that something would happen in America. Could the bad news be Earl’s illness? I brushed off my forebodings by thinking of Earl’s wife Georgia, and how she reminded me so much of my own mother because both of them smoked like chimneys and had an infectious laugh. I felt that Georgia and my mother would have become great friends too because of their common addiction to cigarettes, and their love of cooking. Today as I write, both of them have since given up cigarettes. Miracles are still happening.
Had my mother ever made it to America, I could easily see us all sitting around a barbeque in the warm evening air, laughing and joking, with mother telling everyone her numerous stories about her Henry, while all the time keeping the mosquitoes at bay with the clouds of smoke from her fags. It was a magical vision warming my soul with sheer happiness, but unfortunately it was never to be.
Then I began missing my own mother, and still in that dreamy state I crossed over the ocean and saw her smiling and welcoming me into her room with a big Irish hug. In my mind I sat down on her bed and began telling her all about the wonderful dream trip we had just completed. She listened carefully and looked so very happy on hearing all of my news, and was just about to say something really profound when I was gently but firmly pulled back into reality by JoAnn shaking my shoulder.
“Honey, wake up, you’re almost at home. Do you know where you are now Punkin?” Reluctantly I focused my eyes on the road ahead, and immediately knew exactly where we were. We were driving through the town of Cuba, Missouri, crossing a junction I knew very well indeed.
“Of course I know where we are,” I said rather gruffly, still wanting to hear what my mother was trying to tell me.
“Jessica has just crossed over old Route 66, where you gave me my first driving lesson here in America, and it was in this very jeep too. Now will you let me go back to my dreams, please”. I tried hard to return to my trancelike state, but then almost at home, JoAnn was determined to have more fun at my expense, and so she started to rise me again.
“You were snoring loudly too, did you know that Punkin? And what were you dreaming about anyway?” Peals of laughter then followed my vehement denial of my snoring faux pas, though I secretly suspected it might be true. “Ahh come on now, tell us what you were dreaming about. What was so very important about it?” Again I said gruffly, “Well, if you must know, I was dreaming of my mother, and I was telling her all about our great adventure when you shook me awake”. More laughter then followed from the two Americans. They saw right through my veiled pretence at being annoyed at them. “And what did she say, Irishman?” I paused for a while, and in my mind I returned to my mother where I heard her clearly speak. Smiling, I turned round in my seat and looked back at my beautiful American wife. “Well if you must know, my mother just said, ‘John, you’ve come a long way from Two Walls and a Roof, haven’t you’.”
I thought about it for a moment and said, “Yes mother, but it’s not over yet”.
In memory of Earl Garms, who passed away from us all on December 3rd 2010.
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