making him loopy. “Huh?” I said.
“At the
beach!
” he continued. “We were having a perfectly lovely time. Beautiful day. Sunshine and so on. Then suddenly, Cora said my bathing suit was too ugly to give to the poor. That may not sound like much to
you
, son, buttrust me on this one: Them’s fighting words! And as if she-hadn’t gone way too far already, do you know what she said next?”
I shook my head.
“She said to throw it away and she’d buy me a more fashionable one!”
He stared wide-eyed at me, I guess waiting for my gasp of horror. Then he added, “She was probably thinking of one of those minuscule, muscle-man, G-string Speedo things in unspeakable Day-glo colors!” Dad shuddered.
I laughed.
“You know, son,” he said, shaking a warning finger, “take it from your old man. It starts with a swimsuit, but the next thing you know, it’s lacy curtains in the kitchen!”
“Actually,” I said, “you could use something in your kitchen window. Anyone walking by can see you making eggs in your underwear.”
Dad squinted at me, scratching his chin where a beard had already started growing.
I squinted back.
Then he sighed as if defeated. “I suppose I could give my old friend Cora a call,” he said. “See if she’d like to stop by tomorrow. Maybe bring her niece to say good-bye to you. What the heck.”
“What the heck,” I agreed.
Dad smiled. “In fact, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll phone her right now. Let her yell at me awhile.” He thumped his cast. “I won’t be needing a swimsuit in the near future anyway.”
I left him alone and put my trunks on, then went outside and knocked on Beau’s door. “How about a night swim?” I asked him.
“Cool!” he said, and ducked back in to change.
The pool was lit from underneath, making our bodies look rubbery in the blue-green water. We splashed around, raced. Then we lolled on the steps at the shallow end.
“My dad says I should leave as planned, day after tomorrow,” I said.
“You gonna?” Beau asked.
“I guess so. I mean, I can’t exactly stay if he doesn’t want me to. And my mom wants me home.”
“What do
you
want?” Beau asked.
“
Me
?” I said stupidly.
“No, not
you.
I was asking that palm tree,” he joked.
But his question rang in my ears. What
did
I want to do? I hadn’t the foggiest idea, so I changed the subject. “Is your brother always like that?” I asked.
“Claude?”
“No.”
“Marcel?”
I shook my head. “Eric.”
“Ah! The ugly one,” Beau said. “No, he’s not always like that. Sometimes he’s worse.”
I waited for Beau to continue but he didn’t. So I said, “How can you stand it?”
He shrugged. “My dad says my uncle Jorge was always pounding on him as a kid. It’s a brother thing.”
“But you’re nice to your other brothers.”
“
I
,” Beau said, poking himself in the chest, “am an infinitely superior human being to both my brother Eric and my uncle Jorge.”
“Infinitely,” I agreed. “Are your dad and your uncle friends now?” I asked.
Beau laughed. “We only hear from Uncle Jorge when he needs money.”
When I went upstairs, Dad had the TV back on. “All is forgiven,” he said, nodding toward the phone. “The womenfolk are bringing lunch tomorrow.”
I didn’t know what to think about that. Was there any truth to the swimsuit story? I shrugged to myself. Another mystery. One among many. Like: Would Cora still be around next summer, Muzak, gum chewing, and all? What if Dad married her? Would they keep her cats? Where would that leave me? In a hotel?
I looked at Dad, propped up on his pillows, and told myself I’d worry about all that later. Or, as Jet says, “I’ll jump off that bridge when I get to it.”
We had pizza delivered and ate it on Dad’s bed. There was an old movie on and I didn’t mind watching it. The bad guy reminded me of Eric, so when the movie was over, I told Dad about Eric always beating up on Beau.
Dad
“At the
beach!
” he continued. “We were having a perfectly lovely time. Beautiful day. Sunshine and so on. Then suddenly, Cora said my bathing suit was too ugly to give to the poor. That may not sound like much to
you
, son, buttrust me on this one: Them’s fighting words! And as if she-hadn’t gone way too far already, do you know what she said next?”
I shook my head.
“She said to throw it away and she’d buy me a more fashionable one!”
He stared wide-eyed at me, I guess waiting for my gasp of horror. Then he added, “She was probably thinking of one of those minuscule, muscle-man, G-string Speedo things in unspeakable Day-glo colors!” Dad shuddered.
I laughed.
“You know, son,” he said, shaking a warning finger, “take it from your old man. It starts with a swimsuit, but the next thing you know, it’s lacy curtains in the kitchen!”
“Actually,” I said, “you could use something in your kitchen window. Anyone walking by can see you making eggs in your underwear.”
Dad squinted at me, scratching his chin where a beard had already started growing.
I squinted back.
Then he sighed as if defeated. “I suppose I could give my old friend Cora a call,” he said. “See if she’d like to stop by tomorrow. Maybe bring her niece to say good-bye to you. What the heck.”
“What the heck,” I agreed.
Dad smiled. “In fact, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll phone her right now. Let her yell at me awhile.” He thumped his cast. “I won’t be needing a swimsuit in the near future anyway.”
I left him alone and put my trunks on, then went outside and knocked on Beau’s door. “How about a night swim?” I asked him.
“Cool!” he said, and ducked back in to change.
The pool was lit from underneath, making our bodies look rubbery in the blue-green water. We splashed around, raced. Then we lolled on the steps at the shallow end.
“My dad says I should leave as planned, day after tomorrow,” I said.
“You gonna?” Beau asked.
“I guess so. I mean, I can’t exactly stay if he doesn’t want me to. And my mom wants me home.”
“What do
you
want?” Beau asked.
“
Me
?” I said stupidly.
“No, not
you.
I was asking that palm tree,” he joked.
But his question rang in my ears. What
did
I want to do? I hadn’t the foggiest idea, so I changed the subject. “Is your brother always like that?” I asked.
“Claude?”
“No.”
“Marcel?”
I shook my head. “Eric.”
“Ah! The ugly one,” Beau said. “No, he’s not always like that. Sometimes he’s worse.”
I waited for Beau to continue but he didn’t. So I said, “How can you stand it?”
He shrugged. “My dad says my uncle Jorge was always pounding on him as a kid. It’s a brother thing.”
“But you’re nice to your other brothers.”
“
I
,” Beau said, poking himself in the chest, “am an infinitely superior human being to both my brother Eric and my uncle Jorge.”
“Infinitely,” I agreed. “Are your dad and your uncle friends now?” I asked.
Beau laughed. “We only hear from Uncle Jorge when he needs money.”
When I went upstairs, Dad had the TV back on. “All is forgiven,” he said, nodding toward the phone. “The womenfolk are bringing lunch tomorrow.”
I didn’t know what to think about that. Was there any truth to the swimsuit story? I shrugged to myself. Another mystery. One among many. Like: Would Cora still be around next summer, Muzak, gum chewing, and all? What if Dad married her? Would they keep her cats? Where would that leave me? In a hotel?
I looked at Dad, propped up on his pillows, and told myself I’d worry about all that later. Or, as Jet says, “I’ll jump off that bridge when I get to it.”
We had pizza delivered and ate it on Dad’s bed. There was an old movie on and I didn’t mind watching it. The bad guy reminded me of Eric, so when the movie was over, I told Dad about Eric always beating up on Beau.
Dad
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