by Renée Riva
I smile when Sailor gets out of the water and shakes all over her. Wouldn’t surprise me if they could hear her screamin’ clear on the mainland. I load Sailor back into the boat. “Good dog,” I whisper.
It doesn’t bother me what Adriana thinks of my music, or anything else I happen to like. I am what Daddy calls “a hopeful romantic.” I watch all those Westerns with The Duke and just melt over the steamy love scenes where he’s kissin’ his girl.
Daddy tells me not to settle for anything less in a man than what I see right there on that TV screen. “You get yourself a man’s man, A. J. There’s a world full of wimps out there who will put on a pair of cowboy boots and call themselves a cowboy. You just make sure you find the one who can actually ride a horse.”
I have never told anyone this, but, I have got the biggest crush on Little Joe Cartwright, from Bonanza. I love to daydream about him. That’s one of my favorite things to do when I’m out here in my boat. I just close my eyes while I’m driftin’ along, and the next thing I know … I’m his girl. He’s comin’ in from a long day of wrestlin’ cows out on the Ponderosa, and I’m cookin’ up some dead deer stew for him. He comes into my big ranch kitchen and says, “Boy, that sure smells good,” with that romantic Southern accent of his. Then he comes over and gives me this big ol’ kiss. We kiss so long, the stew just burns away on the stove, and we have to have peanut butter sandwiches instead.
Now, he may not be as big and burly as The Duke, but he is cute, cute, cute. That goes a long way in my book. Besides that, he can ride a horse.
Right in the middle of my daydream, I hear the sound of our boat engine and open my eyes. My daddy must’ve gotten off work early today, because he’s pullin’ up to the dock, and it’s not even four o’clock yet.
“Everybody in,” he yells. “We’re going for a ride.”
I hear Adriana moan. She does not enjoy these family outings one bit. But Daddy had a talk with her last night about how we are a family, and like it or not, she needs to try and be a part of it. Then he told her how one day she will look back and miss these days, to which she rolled her eyes.
My daddy’s name is Sonny. He’s the park ranger at Indian Lake State Park on the main shore. We get to stay out here from the time school lets out in June, ’til it starts up again in September.
Daddy likes to call me Ficuccia. He was fed up with all the rivalry caused in choosin’ my name, so he just came up with a name of his own. Ficuccio means “little fig” in Italian. Ficuccia would be a little girl fig, which is much easier to live up to than an “angel.”
Daddy’s a big man with thick black wavy hair and deep blue eyes. When he’s pullin’ away from the dock, a ray of sunlight hits his eyes. They look just like two blue jewels shinin’ back at me. “Daddy, what did the girls think of you when you were young?” I ask him.
He glances over at Mama, then says, “I was a knockout in high school. Your mother had to fight all the girls off of me just to get me to notice her.” Daddy gives Mama a big grin and starts to laugh.
“Sonny Degulio, that’s a bunch of hogwash and you know it. There were so many boys swarming around me, I couldn’t see through ’em all to have even noticed you were alive.” Then she adds, “You wouldn’t have had a chance if my mother hadn’t forced me to marry you. You were her only ticket to Roman Catholic Italian grandbabies.”
Daddy smiles at Mama. “Admit it, baby. I was hot. The Italian Stallion, remember?”
Mama just rolls her eyes, but she’s smilin’ too. I think Daddy won Mama because he can make her laugh. Nobody can make Mama laugh the way Daddy can.
A lot of folks out here own their own cabins and boats, but we are renters all the way. My daddy says, “Why would I want to buy a boat when I can rent the African Queen every summer?”
When a boat full of girls go by, J. R. yells, “Duck down,” to my little brothers. “We look like a boatload of sissies.”
We are the only family I know on this lake with a pink boat. But Daddy says this was just like the boat they used in a famous movie, The African Queen, and we should sit up tall and proud when we pass other boats. “They only laugh because they’re jealous.”
So Mama says, “Well, Sonny, since you’re feeling so high and mighty in your pink boat today, let’s see how tall and proud you look when this big fancy yacht up ahead passes by.”
Daddy looks at Mama real sly, then grabs his ranger hat. He jumps on the bow of the boat and pulls his ranger pants up to nearly his chest. Now his ankles are stickin’ out with his bright green socks. He’s just standin’ out there with his face to the wind in his ranger hat, lookin’ ridiculous. He’s stickin’ out his chest and holdin’ his pants up by his thumbs, just waitin’ for that yacht to pass by us. We are all howlin’ so bad, we can’t even hide our heads.
So here comes the yacht right close to our boat, and people are lookin’ at us like we are from Mars, and Daddy yells, “Afternoon, gentlemen. I know what y’all are thinkin’, but there is no way we will trade our African Queen for your yacht, so don’t even think about it.”
Now Mama’s laughin’ so hard she just rolls right off her boat cushion onto the floor. That just makes us laugh harder. But Mama can’t stop, and she sure as anything can’t get up off the floor. So Daddy hops down off the bow to help her up, but she can’t even take his hand. Then Daddy asks, “What’s so funny, darlin’?” with an accent just like mine.
Mama can hardly talk, but she squeaks out, “Do you know who that was?”
Daddy says, “No, Soph, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?”
So, Mama squeals, “Dr. Starky …” and she’s laughin’ so hard now she’s cryin’.
The reason that might seem so funny to Mama is because Dr. Starky already thinks we’re a pretty nutty family, even before Daddy yelled from the bow in his high-waters. See, we’ve only been here for one month, and we’ve been to Dr. Starky’s three times. The first time was when Benji got a fishin’ hook caught in his bare back when Dino was casting. He was screamin’ like a banshee. We couldn’t pull it out without tearin’ up his back, so we just cut the line and walked him into Dr. Starky’s office with a fishhook stickin’ outta his back.
Then on the Fourth of July, J. R. shot off a bottle rocket that went haywire and singed off part of his eyebrow. He was lucky he didn’t lose his eye, but that put the kibosh on our Fourth of July. So once more we visited Dr. Starky with a weird injury.
Then, just last week, Dino had the great idea of pretendin’ the island was his own private jungle, and Benji was the intruder who needed to be trapped and tortured. Once Benji stepped into his lasso, Dino pulled it tight around his ankle and dragged his captured prey back to base camp for Chinese water torture. Unfortunately, along the way, he was dragged through a beehive, at which point Dino dropped the rope and ran for it, leavin’ Benji to fend for himself. Benji came screamin’ through the woods, followed by a swarm of bees and his rope in tow. By the time he reached the cabin, he had so many bee stings Mama just threw him in the tub and soaked him in baking soda and meat tenderizer. A few hours later his whole face started to swell. When he walked into Dr. Starky’s office, Benji looked like somethin’ from My Favorite Martian. By the time Mama stopped laughin’ at him, Dr. Starky was lookin’ at her like she was just the worst mother in the whole world to laugh at her son like that.
What Dr. Starky doesn’t understand about our mama is, when she starts to laugh about somethin’ you really aren’t supposed to laugh about, tryin’ to stop only makes it worse. She said she’s been that way since she was a kid, and has gotten in a lot of trouble for laughin’ in school, church and libraries, even at funerals. Daddy’s gotten pretty good about walkin’ her out of those situations once it starts, because when she gets to laughin’ like that, she’s too weak to get up and run out herself.
After Mama recovers from seeing Dr. Starky on the yacht, she says, “Well, Sonny, if that man didn’t already have enough doubts about this family, you just clinched the deal fo
r us.” She tells Daddy that the best part is yet to come because Daddy has to go to his office to get his mandatory tetanus shot for work next week.
Daddy says, “Well, maybe I’ll just wear my Smokey Bear outfit for the occasion.”
2
Backstage Actress Act l: Scene 1
None of us have any idea where Daddy is takin’ us, but he had us girls throw on our sundresses before we left, so it must be someplace pretty fancy. Once we reach Jasper’s Cove, he pulls our boat up to the dock right outside of Smitty’s Tackle Shop. “Fishin’? We’re goin’ fishin’?” I ask.
“Nope. Everybody out,” he yells.
We all end up on this dock down at the end of the lake, surrounded by Western shops that look a hundred years old. You kind of expect The Duke to come walkin’ down the street and lay a “howdy” on ya.
“This way,” Daddy says, and we all fall in line behind him. Mama pulls out her Hollywood sunglasses, and I’m thinkin’, Not here, Mama, oh please, not now.
She just looks around like she’s not sure what we’re in for either. Then Daddy takes us all across the street to this big wooden building that has a reader board on it:
NOW PLAYING: ANNIE GET YOUR GUN
“A play,” I yell. “This is a playhouse, and we’re goin’ to a play.”
Adriana gives me a look. I can’t help it. We have never been to a real playhouse before.
“It’s not only a play,” Daddy says, “it’s a dinner theater.” He smiles like he is so proud he pulled this off without us guessin’. Mama just looks relieved that it’s something she might enjoy after all.
I’m just beside myself. This is too good to be true. “Dinner theater? You mean we get to eat and watch a play at the same time?”
Adriana looks at me again.
The maître d’, as Mama calls him, shows us to our table up near the stage. Once we’re all seated, they bring us girls 7 UPs with bright red syrup and cherries on top. It’s called a Shirley Temple. I’m watchin’ the ruby red syrup swirl into the 7 UP. “Hey, my favorite color.”
“What, clear?” Adriana says.
I just ignore her.
Then they bring out cherry Cokes for the guys, called Roy Rogers. Now Daddy finally gets to tell us what this is all about.
“Well, gang, I have just been promoted from Deputy Ranger to Head Ranger of Indian Lake State Park. So, I thought this would be a fun way to celebrate.”
We all cheer and clang our glasses together in a toast for Daddy. Mama lets out one of her great whistles that I wish I could do, but can’t, on account of losin’ too much wind through my front teeth.
While we’re all congratulatin’ Daddy, the waiter brings us plates of spaghetti and puts them on the red-and-white checked tablecloth, which kind of goes along with this whole Wild West deal, but it works for us Italians, too.
The lights begin to go down real slow, and music starts to play, and my stomach is so excited to see what the actors are gonna look like. Suddenly, a girl, not much bigger’n me, bursts out on the stage and startles the daylights outta me by firin’ a rifle. For a second I’m thinkin’ it’s real and she’s gonna kill us all. Then I remember it’s just a play, and I sit back again and relax. Now Adriana’s watchin’ me like a hawk watches its prey.
“What?” I whisper. “How was I supposed to know it was part of the play?”
“Gee, A. J., do you think the name of the play has any clues in it?” She finally looks away.
Now that things are rollin’, I am just enjoyin’ every single thing: the actors, the costumes, the props. I am so amazed by this “Little Miss Sure Shot.” She is so good, she can outshoot anyone who takes her on. She even gets to travel with Colonel Cody’s Wild West Show. By intermission, I feel like I want to be just like Annie Oakley and do somethin’ better than any boy, like she does with her rifle.
During intermission, you can either stay and have dessert or wander around for a few minutes. Since dessert turns out to be coconut cream custard, I talk Benji into goin’ explorin’ with me instead. Coconut is one of those things that should really just stay up in those tall trees where we don’t have to smell it, look at it, or eat it.
I can hardly wait to go snoop around this old place and maybe even spy on the actors to see what costumes they’re climbin’ into for part two.
We sneak down this long hallway and find a back room, like an overflow dressing room full of old theater photos and costumes. It’s too tempting to resist the costumes. I throw a feather boa around my neck and pretend I’m an actress. Benji comes across a tall hat like Abe Lincoln’s, and puts it on. It’s like we’re in our own little play that no one is watchin’ but me and Benji.
Off in the corner there’s a candy bar machine with those little windows showin’ all the different candy bars you get to pick from. I sashay my way over to take a look. My favorite candy bar just happens to be the kind with chocolate and caramel mixed together, and wouldn’t you know it, it’s starin’ right at me. Benji and me both stand here lookin’ at it, wishin’ we had a dime. Then I notice how close those little windows are to the slot where the stuff comes out, and I imagine myself reachin’ right up inside there and grabbin’ that candy bar.
“Hey, Benji, why don’t you reach up there and grab that candy bar for us.” Benji’s arm is much smaller than mine, so it only makes sense he does the reachin’ and grabbin’.
“Don’t you have to put money in there?”
“Naw, it’s probably free for the actors and little kids. Besides, we didn’t get dessert like everyone else.”
“Oh, yeah.” So, Benji reaches his little arm up there as far as he can.
“I can’t get it, A. J. I don’t feel any candy bars up here.”
Now I’m gettin’ a little nervous about someone comin’ to find us. “Okay, Benji, pull it back out.”
“I can’t, A. J. It’s stuck.”
Benji must’ve turned his arm a different angle from how it went in.
Now I’m feelin’ really nervous. Just as I’m tryin’ to pull Benji’s arm out, who but Daddy comes in lookin’ for us. This is not good. Benji’s squattin’ here in this big top hat, and his entire arm’s missin’ all the way up to his shoulder like the machine had just sucked it right up.… Hey, maybe that’s what we could say.…
“Well, here you two are. What in the world … Benji, what are you doing?” Daddy looks from Benji to me. I’m all wrapped up in this purple boa, tryin’ with all my might to get Benji’s arm out of the slot.
“A. J. said it was free for actors and little kids, Daddy, but now my arm is stuck and won’t come out, and I didn’t even get the candy.”
“Is that so? Well, I think A. J. is going to get more than a candy bar out of this deal—like the privilege of picking up every candy wrapper in the entire state park.” Then he yanks Benji’s little arm out of there so fast, and he gives me a glare that makes me feel like I wish I really had been adopted by a pack of wolves like Wolf Boy. Maybe then I would’ve been brave enough to have stuck my own arm up there, and could’ve just chewed it off when it got stuck, before Daddy found me.
“Take off those silly things and get your sorry behinds back to your seats. We’ll deal with this later at home.” Then he turns to me. “And we will deal with it, A. J.”
We leave our costumes in a crumpled heap on the floor by the candy machine and hustle back down the hall. I find our table and sit my sorry behind back down, wonderin’ what got into me that made me do such a thing, and right in the middle of Daddy’s celebration. Sometimes I think I must be possessed.
Exit Stage Right
The second half of the play isn’t as good as the first half, probably because every time I look over at Benji, he’s rubbin’ his sore arm. I can’t stop thinkin’ about wolves. I’m gonna really wish I was one by Wednesday night. Wolves don’t have to go to confession and explain things like this to Father Patrick.
After the final curtain, I stay behind to get Miss Annie’s autograph. My fam
ily goes on ahead to the dock while I wait in line. Mama sails past me in all of her Hollywood flair, sunglasses, headscarf, and Poppy Pink lips. “Don’t be long, dahlin’,” she calls back to me, in her deep Miss Loren voice. Then she laughs to the wind and leaves me behind to get all the strange looks. Mama’s the only person I know who can’t just walk past a crowd of people.
I have never gotten any real autographs before—well, except my mama’s—but that doesn’t count. While Miss Annie is signin’ my play program, I notice some of the actors whisperin’ and lookin’ over at me. Either they heard about the candy machine, or they’re makin’ fun of my dramatic mother. Then a few of them walk over to me.
“Was that your mom who just went by?”
“U-h-h … yeah.” Thanks, Mama.
“Do you mind if we ask what her name is?”
I should know better, but I can’t help myself. “Sophia … her name is Sophia … and she loves to scout for new risin’ stars in the theater. Well, bye.” Then I walk across the street and climb into our boat.
“Umm … Daddy,” I say, lookin’ back at the playhouse, “you might want to gun it outta here real fast.”
“Why’s that, A. J.?”
“Look …”
The entire cast is runnin’ like a stampede of cows toward the dock, yellin,’ “Sophia, Sophia!”
“What did you say to them, A. J.?” Daddy asks.
“Well … they asked what Mama’s name was … so, I told ’em.”
Adriana shakes her head. “Can’t we go anywhere without you causing a scene?”
Mama doesn’t seem to mind a bit. She just waves to all of them and blows a kiss as we speed off into the sunset.
3
Sisters, Saints, and Sinners
There is one question that will follow me into eternity because I’m too embarrassed to ask anyone in the church about it. Why would God make a flower as pretty as a daisy smell like dog doo? I will never forget the first time I stuck my nose right in the middle of one and nearly died. I felt like I’d been tricked. Then I wondered if God does that for fun and laughs every time someone smells one for their first time. Maybe I’ll work up the nerve to ask one of the nuns tonight at catechism.
