The Complete Collection. William WhartonЧитать онлайн книгу.
I say if he gets bored to look around the Lucky Market or go across to the bowling alley. I leave him there. He’ll be off on his own in the big world for a whole hour.
When I get home, Mom’s awake. She asks where Dad is.
‘He’s at the Laundromat doing the wash.’
‘Oh, Mother of God, Jacky, he can never do that! I take him along, but he’s more in the way than anything. He keeps folding sheets so there won’t be any wrinkles till I almost go nuts!’
‘Oh, he’ll be all right, Mom.’
She snorts, instantly classifying me in the great, growing category of ‘simps’.
‘You’ll see. He’ll put bleach in with the colored things or some goofy trick. Joan said she’d do the wash; don’t you two worry about it. She isn’t doing much of anything else.’
‘It’s all right, Mom, and it’s something for him to do. Joan has enough on her mind.’
But Mother’s lack of trust gets to me. I refuse to go back but I’m checking my watch. It’s like the first time you send a young child to the store alone; the temptation is to follow.
When I leave, I tell Mother I’ll fix lunch soon as we come back. I can see she’s feeling itchy; things are getting out of her control. It won’t be long before she’ll do something dumb.
At the Laundromat, Dad’s sitting with all the clothes dried and piled in the basket. He’s even broken down the clothes into Mother’s things, my things and his. I can’t believe it. And he’s so proud of himself; he’s sitting there sucking on a raspberry Popsicle.
‘Gee, John, I had a fine time. I went over and watched the bowling. I haven’t bowled since I used to bowl with Ira Taylor up on Sixty-ninth Street; that has to be over thirty years ago. I’d forgotten what fun it is. Here we are living only two blocks away and I’ve never even been to this place. You get in the habit of working and then forget how to have fun. It’s only fifty cents a line. We can afford it and I have all the time in the world. I’m not too old.’
I’m packing clothes into the laundry bags.
‘Sure, Dad, maybe we can come up and bowl. I haven’t bowled in a long time either.’
We pile our clothes in the car and Dad finishes his popsicle. I don’t want him charging in the house with a Popsicle hanging out of his mouth; that’d do Mother in for sure. We drive the car into the patio and start unloading. Mom is out of bed and opens the side door. Dad and I carry the clothes in. When I go into the kitchen, I see she’s fixed lunch.
I stand a minute trying to figure how to handle it. I resent treating her as a child; I don’t want her seeing me angry, either. I decide to accept. I can’t figure any other procedure more likely to discourage this kind of stupidity.
Well, that’s the way our days go. Mom’s into everything and there’s nothing Dad or I can do right. She’s even complaining Dad isn’t brushing his teeth at night.
‘You have to watch him, Jacky; he’ll only scrub the front and forget the rest.’
This is about a man with every tooth in his head. Mother has bridges across the whole back of her mouth. At first, we keep trying harder. We sweep, vacuum, line garbage pails, scrub toilets, dust, beat rugs, the whole scene; but it’s all wrong.
Joan comes and I tell her what’s going on. She laughs and sits down.
‘Don’t you know, Johnny, nobody can please Mom? I thought you knew that. Every week I come here to help with heavy cleaning like washing windows, scrubbing floors. I know she’ll do it all over again, wash every window a second time, muttering the whole while. It’s Mom’s pleasure to convince herself, and everybody else, that nobody’s as good at anything as she is. The world is filled with two kinds of people, Bette McCarthy and the rest. The rest are incompetent and basically filthy. Relax, Jack, live with it. You and Dad have a good time; you can’t win.’
Hell, I know all this. Only in my enthusiasm about how well Dad’s doing, I forgot.
Joan can’t get over how sharp, full of life, he is. It’s hard to believe it’s the same man. I tell Joan some of the things we’ve been doing; the Oar House, sailing, motorcycling. She thinks it’s all fine but we’d better not let Mom find out.
‘She’ll make life miserable for him, Johnny. And if she ever hears about that beard; God in heaven. All the noise I’ve listened to about your beard; it’d kill her for sure.’
We’re both giggling. Mom’s napping, Dad’s out in the greenhouse.
Plowing for sod corn, new-cut ground turned close, one row onto the other, small tufts of grass and reeds marking the depth of furrows. Jimmy pulls, slowly, easily; and I lean, just strong enough to turn over topsoil; corduroying the earth.
The next day when I go to do the bathroom, the tub’s been scrubbed. This is too much. If there’s anything a heart patient shouldn’t do, scrubbing a tub must be high on the list. Mother’s in the patio sunning with Dad. I go out.
‘Mother! Did you scrub the tub?’
‘Jacky, it was such a mess, rings of dirt and water splashes all over everything, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’m sure you two step straight out of a tub and never look back; you leave curly hairs over everything and an inch thick of scum. I may be sick but I don’t have to live in a pigpen.’
‘Come on, it wasn’t that bad. I just went in to scrub it out. You only had to wait another ten minutes. For ten minutes with a few hairs in a bathtub you put your whole life on the line.’
I’m working up a stupid mad.
‘Dad and I are doing our best while you spend your time making things difficult. Mother, I’m telling you right now, if you don’t lie back, take it easy and do as the doctor says, I fly home tomorrow. If what we do isn’t good enough, hire a professional nurse. Do whatever it is you have to do but I’m not taking any more nonsense.’
Mother looks at me, then starts crying.
‘If I can’t even do a little work around my own house, what’s the use of living. You know he can’t do anything.’
She flings her arm in Dad’s direction.
‘Joan never comes and you’re only waiting so you can go back to Europe with all the foreigners.’
I turn and walk into the house while she’s raving. Dad comes in after me. I’m getting lunch ready. He’s upset; we all are.
‘It’s not her fault, Johnny; don’t be so hard; it’s not easy for her to relax, you know how she is.’
‘Sure, Dad. But remember: this isn’t only the usual spoiling, letting her have her own way; she can very easily die. I don’t intend to watch her kill herself out of pride, and a frustrated need to dominate.
‘And you’ve got to stand up to her, too, Dad; for her good and yours. It’s something we can’t put off. If she’s going to wash out bathtubs, there’s no chance she’ll live; I’m not kidding.’
I can’t tell if he understands. He’s so scared he’s into his nodding routine, looking serious and doing his worker-boss thing.
‘You’re right, Johnny. You’re absolutely right. I’ll talk to her. She’s crying out there alone; she doesn’t cry much; crying can’t be good for her heart, either.’
‘It’s better than scrubbing tubs, Dad.’
God, will we have to watch her all the time? I go back out with sandwiches, beer and some Coke for Mom. She’s still red-eyed, wiping away tears. She won’t look at me.
‘Listen, Mom. You’ve got Dad worried to death with your bullheadedness but I’m not going to say another word. If you want to climb up on that roof right now and start tap dancing, I’ll