Chapter 1.7
In the spring, Josh played catcher, and loved it, and Max developed into a home run hitter but still wasn’t as good a third baseman as he wanted to be. Max finished middle school ready to take all available honors courses in high school the next year, as expected. Josh muddled his way through every subject except Math, which he aced without much effort. He preferred to learn most things his own way, on the side.
Josh still spent a lot of time at Elaine and Max’s house, and Max still spent a lot of time at Tom and Josh’s house, but Tom and Elaine avoided each other as much as possible. Elaine tried without success to convince Josh that he would be glad later on if he applied himself in school now. Tom tried without success to convince Max that hating his father was natural under the circumstances, but that it wouldn’t be healthy to stay angry forever. Both boys tried without success to convince their respective parents to get over whatever was keeping them apart, but neither Tom nor Elaine would tell them what the problem was.
Josh would always say something like, “Dad, even Max says she misses you. Just go talk to her. Please. Whatever the problem is, you can work it out.” Tom would always answer, “It will never work. Ever, Ever, Ever.”
Max would put framed pictures of Tom in various places around the house. Elaine would always dispose of them without comment, and Max would always put up more.
Once the boys both faked getting the flu at the same time so that Tom and Elaine would have to run into each other at the nurse’s office at school. Their plot backfired when they both ended up grounded for a week for lying because Tom overheard them planning the whole thing.
Tom and Josh stopped visiting Bonnie every week and began to go to the cemetery occasionally, only when one of them felt the need.
The rest of the boys’ friends continued to drift away because, by contrast, their teenage problems looked juvenile.
Josh had to go to his Grandmother’s house to be babysat the week after school ended, since his father had to work, and Elaine hadn’t yet figured a way for him to work at the nursery underage. Josh knew that his father had asked Juliet for help several times since Mom passed and she’d always made excuses, but Dad didn’t know that he knew. Why did grownups always assume that kids didn’t understand stuff like that? We’re not stupid, Josh thought, watching the windshield wipers as Dad drove him to Grammy’s house at quarter after six in the morning. “Thanks, Dad,” he said, out of nowhere.
“Thanks for what?” said Tom.
“For not giving me a hard time about my grades.”
“Your Mom probably could’ve gotten you to do better,” Tom said.
“I know,” said Josh. “But everything is different now.”
Josh wasn’t at all happy about spending a week with Grammy. Juliet always treated him like he was about five years old. Now that his mother was gone, she seemed to think that he was also some kind of an emotional invalid as well. Not that he didn’t miss his mother, of course, but having Grammy drop by to ask him if he was OK, you poor little dear, oh my, such a pity, over and over again got very tiresome.
“Please don’t give your grandmother any trouble,” Tom said. “She’s hard enough to deal with as it is.”
“I won’t. I promise,” said Josh, and Tom knew he really meant it. It suddenly occurred to Tom that just last summer he would have tried to pressure Josh to joke Grammy through the day so she wouldn’t get difficult. It was an odd thought. He wouldn’t do that now. He pulled over to the curb to let Josh out in front of a brick row home in a run-down part of town.
Grammy was watching a show on television about homes of the movie stars when Josh came into the living room. “Oh, my. Oh, let me get you something to eat,” she said jumping up, and then grabbing a sore hip. “Oh, what a pity. You must be starving.”
Josh didn’t see why he must be starving, but he said, “Don’t go to any trouble. I’ll just take some cereal and milk, if you have any.”
“I bought milk just for you. We don’t use it,” Juliet said. Then she went into the dirty kitchen and started frying eggs anyway. After Josh finished his cereal, he ate two fried eggs that he didn’t want.
“Grammy, can I hook up my video game to your TV? I can entertain myself, and I promise to put it all back the way you had it when I’m finished,” he said.
“Oh honey,” she said, “Do whatever you want. Oh, except there are one or two shows that I do like to watch now and then. Maybe you can fix the TV back up for me for ten o’clock. How were your eggs? I made them just the way you like them.”
Josh didn’t know where that came from. He always liked his eggs scrambled. She must be confusing him with someone else. He couldn’t decide whether to say they were good, and therefore he’d have to eat them every time he came to her house, or whether to tell her that he preferred scrambled, and then she’d spend all morning feeling terrible because she screwed up, and act all flighty until something else happened to calm her down. And there in a nutshell was Grammy. Spend ten minutes with her, and you were immediately gripped by indecision about every word that came out of your mouth.
Josh decided to tell the truth. Later he decided he must have had a moment of temporary insanity. “I didn’t really want eggs at all. I just wanted cereal,” he said.
“Well, that’s gratitude for you,” Juliet huffed. “If your mother had lived, she would’ve taught you better than that.”
“Would you prefer I lie about it?” said Josh. He already knew that trying to guess what she wanted and trying to give it to her was the only possible strategy with Grammy, and even that didn’t work often, so he was already in deep trouble. He didn’t see any way out, now that he had started something.
“No Mr. Smarty-pants. I can’t abide liars. It’ll be a cold day in you-know-where when I cook for you again. No gratitude these young people have these days.”
Josh’s temporary insanity grew worse. “Hell, do you mean?” he said.
“And now he’s cussing in front of his old tender grandmother’s ears,” she cried out. “What am I to do? There’s no decency in the world, I tell you.” She didn’t even seem to be talking to him anymore. She had an imaginary audience somewhere in the vicinity, Josh decided. And besides that, his tender old grandmother was all of fifty-eight years old. He was tempted to poke her one more time to see if she exploded into a geyser of Grammy parts. Maybe the shrapnel would blow that back door out, and her head would roll across the back yard, still talking. The image made him laugh out loud.
“Oh so you think this is funny do you?” she said. “I’ve never seen the like in all my days…” She went on but Josh wasn’t listening because he was caught in the throes of uncontrollable laughter.
He finally decided that this had gone far enough. “I was kidding, Grammy,” he said, acting it up. “I was pulling your leg. The eggs were wonderful.”
That stopped her in mid-rampage. She gave him a suspicious look, but she bought it.
“Oh,” she said. “It wasn’t that funny. You have to work on your sense of humor.” Then she left abruptly to go take a shower.
She left him alone most of the morning to play his video games, except for four different requests for him to help her for just a minute, to move a piece of furniture in her bedroom, to reach a jar on a shelf in the kitchen, to wipe a part of a light fixture that she couldn’t reach (Josh couldn’t help but notice that it seemed to be the only thing in the dining room that was being cleaned) and to see if there was a screwdriver way back under the couch. He dutifully paused his game and did whatever she asked each time without comment.
He turned the television back over to her at ten o’clock as requested and switched to reading.
Marvin came in around noon, from somewhere, smelling like beer.
“Hey, Joshua. What’s that you’re reading?” he said.
“The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich,” Josh said, without looking up. He knew that wa
s rude, but his patience was beginning to wear out.
“Do they make you read that in school?” asked Marvin, plopping into a chair across from Josh.
“Shush. I’m watching my show,” said Grammy. They both ignored her.
Josh sighed and closed his book. “No. We do dorky stuff in school. This is just for my own interest.”
“What’s so interesting about it?” said Marvin.
“It’s about how the Nazi’s came into power and all that.”
“I know all about the Nazi’s,” said Marvin. “They tried to take over the world and they killed most of the Jews in Europe.”
“I know. They believed in racial superiority,” said Josh.
“So why do you need five hundred pages to tell you that?”
“Because I want to know why.”
“Because they were evil. That’s why.”
“Then why did the ordinary Germans let them be in charge? That’s the interesting question.”
“Because they were stupid, I guess,” said Marvin.
“Maybe. Maybe there’s more to it than that,” said Josh.
The people on the TV stopped screaming at each other about mothers that slept with their daughters' husbands and Grammy turned around and said, “Marvin let him be. He’s going to be educated, and they have to know things like that. I always wanted to be educated but I never got the chance. I didn’t finish high school. Did you know that?” she said to Josh.
“No. I didn’t know that. Why not?”
“My mother got sick and I had to stay home to take care of her.”
“Why didn’t you go back later?” he asked.
“I was always going to, but I never got around to it,” she said. Her show came back on and she turned away.
Marvin went upstairs to take a nap, and Josh got two hours to himself until Grammy took a break from the television. “Josh honey,” she said. “Would you go down in the basement for me and get some corn and a couple of pounds of hamburger out of the freezer? I’m going to make you my famous chili for supper tonight.” Josh knew better than to get into another session about menus, or that proper chili doesn’t have corn in it, so he agreed. He hoped his father would be back before supper.
Josh eventually found the freezer in the dirty disorganized basement. He got the items she requested and as he was making his way around a broken down washing machine he noticed a stack of newer looking boxes piled by the fuel-oil tank. They were conspicuous because they were not dirty, and they were carefully stacked. At first it seemed that they must have gotten boxes from the liquor store for storing something, although he couldn’t think what, given how disorganized everything else was. Something just didn’t seem right about them. He knew he shouldn’t snoop. He hesitated and then went over to peek inside one of them. It was what it said it was. A case of expensive scotch, the kind that came packaged in individual tubes. There were three or four dozen identical boxes.
Josh felt a chill go up his spine and decided that it would be a very bad idea to get caught looking in the boxes. He hustled up the steps, hoping that he hadn’t been gone a noticeably long time. He came into the kitchen to give Grammy the frozen food and Mitch was standing at the sink drinking out of the carton of milk. His eyes narrowed when he saw Josh coming through the basement door, and he studied Josh carefully. Josh tried to let his face reveal nothing and cover the moment over with a slightly forced, “Hi Mitch. Nice to see you,” but to his dismay, his voice squeaked.
There was a moment of joint recognition, when Mitch knew that Josh had seen something, and Josh knew that Mitch was the one responsible for it.
Mitch started firing off sentences like the grand finale of a fireworks display, complete with exaggerated hand motions and a host of rapidly changing facial expressions.
“I guess you think there must be something crooked going on. Please don’t worry yourself. It’s all perfectly explainable,” Mitch said, acting out great concern for the emotional welfare of his half-nephew. Then lightening fast, he switched to intimidation. “Some people don’t know when to keep their noses out of other people’s business. People have been known to regret that mistake.” Then he switched again to explaining the obvious to the stupid, “You wouldn’t understand anyway. It’s a complicated business. There’s a lady. She needs my help. She’s opening a restaurant, and her ex-husband is harassing her, and I’m hiding some things for her, until the place opens. The grand opening is only in a week.”
Then he switched again to lovesick puppy, “I have feelings for her. You know what I mean? Strong feelings. I really want her to make a success of her goals. I’m right there with her. She might be the one.”
He seemed to be monitoring Josh’s face for a sign of which of these personas Josh showed the strongest reaction to so he could build a story around it, but Josh was frozen, too scared to react to anything. That seemed to make Mitch angry. Josh’s mind thought it might be just one more persona, but his emotions responded to the anger, and he lost the battle to keep his wits about him. The only battle he won was overcoming his strong urge to run away.
“Well, say something, brat. The cat got your tongue? Are you stupid?” demanded Mitch.
Josh looked toward Grammy for help, but she busied herself in the silverware drawer. She was afraid of Mitch too.
“I didn’t see anything, man. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Josh. He knew Mitch wouldn’t believe that. “Good luck with your restaurant.” He cringed and waited for a terrible reaction.
“All right. Let’s keep it that way,” said Mitch. “I don’t want to hear that you were shooting your mouth off.”
“I swear. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Josh.
Mitch left, slamming the front door. After he was gone, Grammy said, “He told me that they were medical books. Something about a tax-deductible contribution. I can’t understand what gets into him sometimes. What do medical books have to do with a restaurant?”
Josh said, “They’re not medical books, Grammy.”
“I thought you said you didn’t see anything.”
“I was scared of him.”
“Oh, now honey, don’t be silly. He’s your uncle. You aren’t scared of him. He’s a little high strung. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He just needs a nice girl and he’ll be fine. Men get funny sometimes when they need a woman.”
That was way too much information, thought Josh, but he didn’t say anything. He laid low and played along with anything Grammy wanted for the rest of the day, fearful that Mitch would come back. Luckily there was no sign of Mitch before Tom came to pick Josh up promptly at five, and rescued him from Grammy’s famous chili.
Josh was quiet and withdrawn for the rest of the evening. He and Tom spent most of the evening playing pool in the basement. It was one of Tom’s favorite ways to relax, and he wished Josh would play more often. Josh only played with his father when he needed attention from Tom but didn’t want to ask. After Josh had beaten him three games in a row, Tom suddenly saw the pattern, and that Josh needed his help with something. He said, “Josh, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” said Josh.
“It’s not nothing,” Tom said. “Grammy is a pain in the butt. Is that it?”
“Yeah, she is.”
“Is it something else?”
“I can’t say,” said Josh.
“Why not?”
“Because.”
Tom made his break and took his first two shots and waited. He had discovered that Josh hated to keep secrets unless he was afraid of getting in trouble.
When Josh didn’t say anything else, Tom asked, “Are you in trouble?”
“Not kid trouble. I think I’m in real trouble,” said Josh.
“If you’re in some kind of real trouble you have to tell me,” he said. He put his pool stick on the rack on the wall and gave Josh his full attention.
“It has
to do with Mitch,” Josh said. He looked pitiful.
“Oh,” said Tom. “You definitely have to tell me.”
“I promised him I wouldn’t. Don’t I have to keep my promise?”
“Not in this case. Absolutely not,” said Tom. “You don’t have to keep a promise to a dishonest person, if you needed to make it under pressure.”
“How do you know that’s what I did?” said Josh. He said it in a way that confirmed Tom’s suspicion.
“I’ve heard things about him from time to time, around town. And I can smell his type from a mile away. I never said much because he was family to your Mom. So what happened?” Tom sat Indian style on the basement floor and gestured for Josh to join him.
Josh told him about the liquor boxes, and his confrontation with Mitch, as best he could, gesturing with his pool stick. It was difficult to relay the story accurately.
Tom listened without interrupting until Josh finished his story. Then he said, “You’re not going back there. I’ll have to take sick days for the rest of the week.”
“Dad, are you sure? I’m not trying to cause any trouble. I don’t want to be responsible for a big fight with them.”
“You’re not responsible. Mitch is. You did the right thing to tell me.”
“It doesn’t feel right.”
“How dare they put an innocent kid into such a position?!” Tom blustered. “Damn their eyes.”
“But Grammy is my grandmother. Isn’t it wrong to think bad things about her and about Mitch? You’re always talking about trying to understand people’s feelings and all that.”
“What do you think those liquor boxes were all about, really? You’re a smart kid.”
Josh said in a tiny voice. “I think they were stolen.” He acted like he was as much afraid of saying something disgraceful about one of his elders as he was of retaliation from Mitch.
“You’re damn straight they were stolen. What if the place was busted while you were there? Or what if something happened to Mitch’s stash and he thought you were responsible. You aren’t going there again, because it’s too dangerous.”
“But Dad. I’m not being stubborn. I want to understand. If they’re in trouble, or in danger of getting into big trouble, aren’t we supposed to try to help? Talk some sense into them or something? Isn’t there a good part inside Mitch somewhere that we have to try to bring to the surface?”
Tom said, “If there is something like that inside of Mitch it’s like the center of the Tootsie pop, but the candy shell is pure poison. You’ll die before you ever get to the middle. Personally I don’t think it’s even there.”
“What about me then? How do I know if I’m good in the middle?”
“Did you love your Mom? Do you love me, and Max, and Aunt Elaine, or even Grammy, hard as she is to deal with?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think a guy like Mitch has ever felt love?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. You aren’t anything like him.”
“OK,” said Josh. He looked relieved. “Grammy said that he told her that they were boxes of medical books,” he said.
“Juliet would believe they were magic pixie dust, if that’s what he told her,” said Tom. “She doesn’t want to face the disaster she’s got on her hands.”
“Shouldn’t we try to tell her or something? It’s dangerous for her too,” said Josh.
“She wouldn’t listen,” said Tom. “She’d just yell at us for bad-mouthing her son. She’s going to have to find out for herself. Then we might be able to help her.”
“What are you going to tell her?”
“I’ll say that I got sick, and since I’m home anyway, I can watch you myself.”
“Isn’t that lying?” asked Josh.
“Yep. It definitely is.”
“Isn’t that wrong?”
“You or I can never have an honest relationship with Grammy or Mitch because neither of them is ever honest about anything. So we might as well protect ourselves from a bunch of screaming. Lying to take advantage of them would be wrong though,” said Tom.
“Yeah. I see that,” said Josh. He yawned deeply and his eyes watered. “You know what Dad? You’re a lot smarter than you look.”
At first Tom was insulted, but then he began to laugh. Josh gave him a goofy grin, quite similar to Tom’s trademark goofy grin face, and then tried to tickle his father’s armpits, but Tom easily held him away. “Now if you could only figure out why you can’t get anywhere with Aunt Elaine,” Josh said from arm’s length. “Mr. oh so smart and sensitive.”
“That’s enough Josh,” Tom said. “That’s not your business.”
“I think it is,” said Josh. “I most definitely think it is. Chicken. Bwack, Bwack, Bwack.” Josh began to dance the chicken dance around the room.
“Good night, Josh. Go to bed. You’ve had a rough day,” said Tom. He had to resist both laughing at and smacking his son.
After Josh went to bed Tom thought about Elaine, drank a beer, wondered if possibly he had overreacted to Mr. X, drank another beer, thought about motherless Josh, drank another beer, and finally decided to break their mutual silence and give Elaine a call.
The Accident at 13th and Jefferson - Book 1 Only Page 8
