smile. “But I have noticed myDar Dawt, the Gorgeous, Gregarious, Glamorous Deza, hasn’t found fit to form the flimsiest conversation concerning the coming fisticuffs.”
Alliteration! A ton of alliteration! It was like all of the consonants he hadn’t used for the past weeks were exploding out of him.
Jimmie laughed. “Wow, Daddy!”
Father said, “So, if none of you mind, I think I’ll use my time to explain to the Mighty Miss Malone what’s going on that she has so little interest in.”
He looked right at me. The first time in a long time he looked any of us in the eye!
“So, Dar Dawt, why aren’t you on the bandwagon about Joe Louis?”
“Clarice and me—”
Mother said, “I, Deza.”
“I and Clarice—”
“Not funny, Deza,” Mother said.
“Clarice and I don’t think there’s anything about two grown, old, bumpy-muscled men in their underwear trying to kill each other with big, fat, puffy, ridiculous red mittens that’s good or important or even worth talking about.”
Father put his face in his hand and shook his head.
Jimmie said, “And I thought you were smart, Deza. Even white people are saying they’d vote for the Brown Bomber to be king of the world after he whips Smelling.”
Father moved his hand from his face and stared over Mother’s shoulder, another real good sign because that meant he was settling into a story or a lesson.
“Deza, this is so much more than just a fight, this is one of those rare occasions where we’ll be alive to witness history.”
He smiled at me and stuck his left hand out. I put both of mine in it and he covered my hands with his right one. I was surprised at how soft Father’s hands felt. They used to be rough like sandpaper or even a hunk of wood, but since the lake they’d got soft as mine.
Father looked real close at our hands and said, “My, my, my. Wasn’t it only yesterday that I could close my fingers on yours like this and your whole hand would disappear?”
He was right, my fingers were poking out of the other side of his hands. He brought our hands to his face and kissed my fingertips.
“Dar Dawt, you know you and I are different, right?”
“Of course, Father, you’re a man, I’m a girl, you’re old and I’m young.”
Jimmie said, “Yeah, Pa, plus Deza’s got regular teeth and you got them summer teeth.
Some are
in your mouth,
some are
on the bottom of Lake Michigan,
some are
still in the hospital!”
Mother said, “Jimmie!”
Father said, “Ah, I see
both
of my children are reading from that book about disrespecting and abusing a good man. Deza, I meant to say you and I are alike because we’re different than most other people.”
“Yes, Father, we know the Malones aren’t like any other family in the world.”
“True, but even
within
the Malone family you and I look at the world in a way that your mother and brother don’t.”
Jimmie, Mother and me all said, “Thank goodness for that!”
Father laughed. “Good, we’re agreed. I hope we can also agree that people tend to leave a trail as to where they’ve been and from that trail you can tell where they’re going, right?”
“Yes, Father.”
“All right,” Father said. “Another thing we need to get by is faith in one another. Over time we can tell if someone is reliable or not, if we can count on their word or not, right?”
Father
was
starting to come back, this was the way he used to talk, and what he was doing was something he’d taught us to be suspicious of.
He said that people use tricks to get you to think the way they do or to take away something you have that they want. One way they do that is to interrupt your normal way of thinking and take you by the hand and guide you down the path they want you to take.
Father says they make you take a teeny-weeny step in their direction, and then they start to nudge you a little further down the path and before you know it, you’re running full speed with them in a direction that you
Alliteration! A ton of alliteration! It was like all of the consonants he hadn’t used for the past weeks were exploding out of him.
Jimmie laughed. “Wow, Daddy!”
Father said, “So, if none of you mind, I think I’ll use my time to explain to the Mighty Miss Malone what’s going on that she has so little interest in.”
He looked right at me. The first time in a long time he looked any of us in the eye!
“So, Dar Dawt, why aren’t you on the bandwagon about Joe Louis?”
“Clarice and me—”
Mother said, “I, Deza.”
“I and Clarice—”
“Not funny, Deza,” Mother said.
“Clarice and I don’t think there’s anything about two grown, old, bumpy-muscled men in their underwear trying to kill each other with big, fat, puffy, ridiculous red mittens that’s good or important or even worth talking about.”
Father put his face in his hand and shook his head.
Jimmie said, “And I thought you were smart, Deza. Even white people are saying they’d vote for the Brown Bomber to be king of the world after he whips Smelling.”
Father moved his hand from his face and stared over Mother’s shoulder, another real good sign because that meant he was settling into a story or a lesson.
“Deza, this is so much more than just a fight, this is one of those rare occasions where we’ll be alive to witness history.”
He smiled at me and stuck his left hand out. I put both of mine in it and he covered my hands with his right one. I was surprised at how soft Father’s hands felt. They used to be rough like sandpaper or even a hunk of wood, but since the lake they’d got soft as mine.
Father looked real close at our hands and said, “My, my, my. Wasn’t it only yesterday that I could close my fingers on yours like this and your whole hand would disappear?”
He was right, my fingers were poking out of the other side of his hands. He brought our hands to his face and kissed my fingertips.
“Dar Dawt, you know you and I are different, right?”
“Of course, Father, you’re a man, I’m a girl, you’re old and I’m young.”
Jimmie said, “Yeah, Pa, plus Deza’s got regular teeth and you got them summer teeth.
Some are
in your mouth,
some are
on the bottom of Lake Michigan,
some are
still in the hospital!”
Mother said, “Jimmie!”
Father said, “Ah, I see
both
of my children are reading from that book about disrespecting and abusing a good man. Deza, I meant to say you and I are alike because we’re different than most other people.”
“Yes, Father, we know the Malones aren’t like any other family in the world.”
“True, but even
within
the Malone family you and I look at the world in a way that your mother and brother don’t.”
Jimmie, Mother and me all said, “Thank goodness for that!”
Father laughed. “Good, we’re agreed. I hope we can also agree that people tend to leave a trail as to where they’ve been and from that trail you can tell where they’re going, right?”
“Yes, Father.”
“All right,” Father said. “Another thing we need to get by is faith in one another. Over time we can tell if someone is reliable or not, if we can count on their word or not, right?”
Father
was
starting to come back, this was the way he used to talk, and what he was doing was something he’d taught us to be suspicious of.
He said that people use tricks to get you to think the way they do or to take away something you have that they want. One way they do that is to interrupt your normal way of thinking and take you by the hand and guide you down the path they want you to take.
Father says they make you take a teeny-weeny step in their direction, and then they start to nudge you a little further down the path and before you know it, you’re running full speed with them in a direction that you
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