Chapter 57
The sophomore team’s first game was against East Orange. They had no game uniforms and were told the night before to take their pants and jerseys home and have their mothers clean them. Ron was in a quandary. His mother hated doing laundry. There was no laundry room in this building. He sat on the edge of the tub that he’d filled with hot water and detergent and bleach and soaked his filthy uniform. He took a scrub brush to the harder stains. When he was pretty sure that he’s gotten everything acceptably clean, he hung them up to dry.
George got home before Marjorie. When he saw the uniform dripping into the now filthy tub, he said, “What are you doing?”
George had an idea. He got a plastic garbage bag and loaded the wet uniform in it. He could not fault Ron’s desire to look clean. He would help him with that. Secretly, he’s told all the guys at work that his son was playing football on the JV as just a freshman. His chest had swelled when they congratulated him and said that maybe this would keep Ron out of trouble.
When Marjorie came home, George said, “Let’s have dinner at my mother’s house. She has a washer and a dryer. Ronald has a game tomorrow and this fabric will never be dry like this.
Ron felt touched. For George it was a win win. He’d get to eat dinner with his family, and he’d done something for Ronald that he could use when he and Marjorie argued about Ron’s lack of respect. Marjorie was glum but agreed. She was hot and tired and the last thing that she wanted to do was have a noisy dinner at her mother in law’s house where the women didn’t trust that she knew how to do anything in the kitchen.
They ate escarole and beans. George was in heaven. It was accompanied by a tomato salad from the garden and the tomatoes were plump and juicy and ripe and swimming in olive oil with some onion.
Ron picked at his food and was grateful to George for helping him out. After dinner and while the dryer was running, George snuck down to the Arrow where he placed a $20 to win bet on Touchdown, a colt who was running in a qualifier down at Monmouth.
The next day’s classes went smoothly. Ron had been prepared both times that he was called on. He’d taken his Friday Algebra quiz. He wasn’t sure about that. He barely passed the first two and they were review.
In English, his black frocked teacher had asked the class to explain the difference between an adverb and an adjective. Ron had been tentative but correct and concise.
He hadn’t been hit and so it was a good day, but he’d watched other get slapped. In Religion, Brother Cecil had rapped his knuckles down on the top of Anthony Malone’s head for speaking out without raising his hand. The sound had echoed and Anthony held a hand on top of his head for several minutes afterwards.
Brother Alvin had pinched his fingers into Malone’s neck earlier that day. He said that he was helping him with his accent. The class bonded. They were all going to take a beating once in a while but that was the way that it was.
Ron lined up on the receiving team for the kickoff. He was on the front line. Just before the whistle blew he felt his gazed pulled up and saw his father standing alongside his car. His body froze and his mind went blank. The ball was kicked to his left and his team mate covered it. Ron stood there in shock at the thought that his father was watching him play as a large black boy from East Orange slammed his body down on top of the Jersey Catholic player who lay on the ground with the ball curled into his belly.
Ron felt a surge rush through him and felt like a river in his ears. He was on offense. The same kid was lined up across from him. Ron’s assignment was to drive on him and he fired off with low slanted speed and the need for collision. It came. His shoulder bucked into the kid like a kick. He heard the grunt and the play ran for eleven yards. He looked for his dad. He was still there, standing and watching.
When he heard the same play called in the huddle, he grinned. He was gonna get to do it again. He fired out but this time the boy tried to circle him. Ron changed his trajectory and lunged and hit and the kid went down on his back. Helmet to helmet, Ron looked into his face. He saw fear. He liked what he saw. Jersey Catholic didn’t score but they drove and when they punted the ball was deep in East Orange territory.
Ron was second string on defense. At least he thought he was. When he got to sidelines, Coach Connors put his hands on his shoulder pads and slapped his ass. “Linebacker on the left,” he said. He gave Ron a shove and sent him back out to play.
The perspective was different when you weren’t down in a stance. Ron bent his knees and coiled his torso. The play went the other way, but he sprinted and got there just as it ended. Coach Peters turned to assistant and smiled, “Ronnie likes to play football.”
The game continued and Ron flew all over the field. He loved to tackle. He was unstoppable. His dad was watching. His team was up by one score. Then Allen Watkins fumbled in back of the line of scrimmage. There was a pile and Ron was in it. The ball was wedged under him. A hand punched him in the stomach. A knee came up into his groin. Ron was clutching for the ball, but other hands were clutching for it too. They heard whistles but no one was letting go or stopping. And then it was gone. He’d lost his tentative grip on it. When he got up, the fat Black kid was smiling. He held out the ball. “Lose something?” he said with a smirk.
Ron was about to go for him when he heard another whistle and a ref was between them and a yellow flag was fluttering in the air. “Unsportsman like conduct,” said the ref.
East Orange was backed up. Ron felt a fury rushing through him like the sound of a train whistle in his ears. He wanted to hit. He saw the play coming right at him. It was a sweep to his side. He moved towards it and felt a sharp pain in his back knock him off balance and send him sprawling onto his face. He jumped to his feet with fury in his eyes and a throbbing pain at the middle of his back. He saw another yellow flag.
The East Orange player who was called for clipping said, “Oh fuck these white refs and this white boy Jesus school.”
The field erupted and players were grabbing at each other. Whistles blew loudly. The coaches were instructed to get their players to the sidelines. They met with the refs in the middle of the field. They stood there talking and the coaches were gesticulating at each other. The whistle blew again and the ref raised his hands in the air and waved them. He picked up the ball trotted over to the East Orange sideline tossed them their ball and then the two refs, still completely dressed headed for their cars.
Coach Peters’ face was very red when he got back to his sideline. “Gather up our stuff men. We’re going home. Game’s over.”
The players looked shocked. They didn’t realize what was happening. “Fellas, I want you to stay together on the way back to the school.”
No one said anything until Allen asked, “Did we win?”
“I’ll tell you when we get back to the school,” said Peters.
Ron looked for his father’s car but it was gone.
Coach Peters circled around the team with his car. His assistant walked back with the team. Everyone was eerily quiet. Back in the locker room Connors explained that because they had a lead and that they hadn’t instigated the trouble, they were declared the winners. The guys cheered and smiled. Connors said, “It’s a lesson in self-control boys. We had it, they didn’t. Anyone bloodied up or have an injury to report?”
Two hands went up into the air almost ashamed. Each of the coaches went to one of the boys. Ron stripped out his jersey and shoulder pads. He sat in front of his locker waiting.
Allen walked over and said, “Come on Tuck, you need a shower.”
Chapter 58
The next time that the Bombascos and the Bragos met was at Angel’s birthday party. Celeste had planned a lavish meal and everyone, including Angel’s father and his family, was invited. It was scheduled for a Sunday and Ron was relieved that there would be no pressure for him to be anywhere else.
Joey and Mario worked all morning to set up the backyard with tables and tablecloths and chairs that they borrowed from neighbors. Anna sat in her kitchen holding her fly swatter. With all the ins and outs through the back door, she was sure that her house was now infested. Celeste was at the stove. She had four burners going and she felt tense and happy. Her daughter was two years old.
Anna said, “Any chance that Ron is intending to lend a hand?”
“He’s working, Mom.”
“On a Sunday morning? And you believe that?”
“He does his papers and prepares for the week on Sundays.”
“Jimmy never had to work on Sundays.”
Celeste unsuccessfully tried to hide the sarcasm in her voice, “Jimmy’s a gym teacher.”
“Oh,” said Anna. “So now this Ronnie-come-lately is more important than your cousin?”
“I didn’t say that or mean that.”
“Who knows what you are talking about half the time.”
Exasperated, Celeste reached for the pot of boiling water without a pot holder or a mitten. The hot metal pot burned into her hands. She dropped it and screamed.
“Oh, for God sakes.” Anna got up with difficulty. “Go into the bathroom so I can take care of you.”
Before Celeste had become a nurse and before Tina had become a nurse, Anna had nursed during World War 2. She’d seen burns. She dressed her daughter’s hands efficiently. Celeste watched as her sedentary mother’s hands worked with agility. The burns were minor. It wouldn’t be a problem. Anna gazed into her daughter’s eyes and saw her dreams and felt a pang of jealousy. It wasn’t jealousy without love. Maybe it was envy.
Anna had settled on a life. Mario had hardly been her first and only choice, but he was sensible and romantic. Most of all, he made her feel safe. He didn’t play an instrument anymore, but he’d serenaded her outside of her window when he courted her. The difference was that Mario no longer had ambition. The war had taken that away. Being a paratrooper as part of the preparation for D-day had taken that away. The people that he’d had to shoot had left him incapable of wanting more. Being peeled out of the night ice at the Battle of the Bulge had convinced him that he wanted a warm and easy life, with easy comforts. They had two children. They made a life. Anna looked into her daughter’s eyes. She had given her a grandchild who was beautiful and who Anna could tell embodied her spirit. She felt that Celeste’s choices in men had been astoundingly abysmal. They were either both entertaining and good for nothing or cold fish.
“How does it feel?”
“I’ll be ok,” said Celeste.
“He should have been here.”
“You don’t know him the way that I do. He’s kind and good and he’s really smart. He loves the baby.”
“I still don’t think that this is a good idea,” said Anna. “I don’t think that you know what you are getting yourself into.”
“Why?”
“I want to read his cards,” said Anna.
People began arriving for the party and there was still no sign of Ron. Celeste slipped off to dial his number and when there was no answer, she felt a twinge. She came upstairs and broke into a grin as she heard him squeaking around the corner. Barb was dressing Angel, who insisted that she wanted Aunt Barb to do it because she knew how to make her look the prettiest. Barb had beamed.
Tina arrived with little Joey and hollered, “Where’s the birthday girl?”
Mario had come in the back door. He smiled and picked up his grandson. “She’s upstairs making herself bea-ut-ti-ful.” He enunciated each syllable and drew them out so that the word had a feel of cacophony.
Celeste kissed little Joey and opened the front door just as Ron was coming up the stairs. He immediately saw the bandage on her hand and said, “What happened?”
“A little accident,” said Celeste. “It’s nothing.”
Anna was back in her chair, she reached for her cigarettes and found that Mario had slipped the clear plastic off and turned it around so that it covered the open pack. She frowned and tore it off. “You know Mario, it’s doesn’t do anything but annoy me.”
Mario didn’t answer.
Ron said, “Tell me what happened.”
“I burned my hand reaching for a pot and forgetting that it was hot. It was my own fault.”
Anna waited for her to add that her mother had bandaged it, but she didn’t. She looked at her grandson in Mario’s arms and smiled. He was a big boy and very happy. He slept through the night. He entertained himself in front of the TV. In short he was ten times less demanding than Angel was. Publically, she credited Tina with this. Privately she knew that Angel was just more of a problem child. It was good to keep Celeste in her place though. Then she frowned with the thought that all of that would be changing now. She grimaced at Ron.
Barb and Angel came downstairs. Angel was wearing a pink dress with white hearts on it. Her hair had a pink ribbon and hung down passed her shoulders with delightfully bouncing twirling curls. “Here’s the Princess,” announced Barb.
Angel took hold of the hem of her dress and did a little half curtsey, just the way that she and Barb had practice upstairs. Anna smiled until she laughed. Mario repeated, “You look bea-ut-i-ful,” elongating the word even more than the first time.
Ron crouched down as Angel ran to him. “Do I look pretty?” she said.
“You’re the prettiest two year old in the entire world,” said Ron.
Then Angel ran to her grandmother, who leaned over and hugged her and whispered into her ear. “You are a knockout.”
Angel wasn’t sure what that meant, but she grinned with the faith that her grandmother always said nice things to her.
Tina smiled. “Hello gorgeous girl and Happy Birthday!”
There were about fifty people in the backyard, when the Bombascos arrived. Ron grimaced when he saw that Lois was with Marjorie and George. He hoped that he didn’t have to explain that. There was a polite reception for them and introductions were made. Marjorie went up to Angel and said, “Happy Birthday” and handed her an elegantly wrapped gift.
Angel took it and ran over to the stack of presents that was taller than she was and twice as wide. Marjorie waited to be thanked. Celeste came over and kissed Marjorie on the cheek and said, “Thank you very much and please enjoy yourself.”
Marjorie’s eyes were fixed on the huge pile of presents. She watched Angel toss it onto the pile and saw it disappear. Well so much for the time that she had spent wrapping that.
Ron said, “Come over here. Let’s sit in the shade.”
Andrew Canigliaro arrived with his mother and father. There was a clear awkwardness. There were exchanged looks among the guests. He had a lot of nerve coming here after the way that he’d acted. They all knew that while Celeste was pregnant that he had called her repeatedly and begged her to have an abortion. Then his father had called her and told her that she should have an abortion. The general consensus was that he should hang his head in shame for the rest of his life.
The sight of the child and feel of the tension was just too much for Andrew’s father. Donald Canigliaro clutched at his chest and collapsed. Rose Canigliaro screamed. Tina and Celeste ran. Angel had not seen what happened and discreetly Barb took her inside so that she would not be frightened. The sisters acted quickly. Tina loosened his shirt. Celeste took his pulse. Their eyes met and exchanged a troubled glance.
Donald was unconscious and he wasn’t breathing. Celeste did CPR. Tina ran to call for an ambulance. Anna’s belief in god was reaffirmed. Marjorie thought, what kind of a party was this? George watched the efficiency with which Celeste worked and admired it. Ron tried to stay out of the way. He was caught between wanting to go to Angel and wanting to help Celeste and knowing that he needed to stay close to his mother so that she didn’t lose it.
It seemed that everything was moving in slow motion and then the siren could be heard. A stretcher was rolled up the along the side of the house. Celeste backed away when she saw the EMT’s there. She had done all that she could. She hoped that it was enough.
As quickly as they had arrived, the Canigliaros left.
Mario said, “Is he OK?’
Celeste answered, “I think he’s having a heart attack.”
Anna patted Celeste’s hand. “You and Tina did very well and Barb got Angel inside so that she didn’t get scared.”
Ron sat there watching and then turned to Marjorie. “Celeste may have saved his life.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” said Marjorie. “It may just have been the heat. She isn’t a doctor.”
“You’re incredible,” said Ron. He got up and walked away.
Chapter 59
Harry Tuck was drinking coffee with Marjorie and George when Ron got home. Ron lit up at the sight of his mother and father together. He blocked out the existence of George Bombasco, or shoved him far enough away in his mind to make him irrelevant. It was the three of them. It was the way that it always should have been, without a Rocky and certainly without a Bombasco.
“How was the game?” said Marjorie.
Ron grinned and the two of his parents smiled at the way that his face dimpled. “Dad was there,” said Ron.
“I saw the way that those Coons tried to bully you,” said Harry.
Ron nodded. “But we won.”
“And they hate you all the more for it and will say that it was stolen from them.”
“They stopped the game because they were afraid,” said Ron. “We weren’t afraid. The kids on the field weren’t afraid.”
“I don’t know what they even play against a nigger school,” said George.
Ron ignored George. “I was excited to see you there Dad, thank you.”
Marjorie smiled. He’d always known what his father needed to hear and said it to him naturally. When would Harry realize that Ron only said the things that he knew that Harry wanted to hear because he was afraid of not seeing him anymore? Marjorie waited for Harry to say that he was proud of the way that his son played, but in her heart she knew that he wouldn’t say it. He just couldn’t.
Harry got up to leave. A look of disappointment spread over Ron’s face and then Marjorie watched him try to hide it. She hadn’t been wrong to leave Harry Tuck. She told herself that again. She was sure that it was what she had to do and it didn’t matter now anyway.
She both hated and loved Harry for the cool ease with which he slid out. She looked at George and closed her eyes. “Well, we better have dinner.”
Ron could feel that his teachers knew what had happened in the game yesterday. Each of the Brothers smiled at him. Nobody put him on the spot. Even Brother Cecil gave him a pass. Ron was doing his reading. His mind was not willing to submit to Latin or French. He did the assignments, but he just couldn’t commit the words to memory. They didn’t make sense to him. He had words. He was squeaking by in Algebra, but some of his classmates weren’t.
Brother O’Shea said, “Mr. Dalton, you got a 59 on the quiz didn’t you?”
Stan Dalton had been called up to the front of the room to receive his quiz. “Yes Brother.”
O’Shea rocked back on his heels. “And that isn’t good enough is it?”
“No Brother.” Stan Dalton’s left eye began to twitch.
“Would you prefer them on your palms or your backside?”
“I don’t understand Brother.”
Brother O’Shea removed a strap from his belt that looked like the one that Joe the Barber used to sharpen his razor when he was about to shave the back of Ron’s neck after a haircut. “Hold out your hands,” Mr. Dalton.
Stan Dalton extended his palms. They were shaking. The strap was a blur when it cracked down on the boys open palms. He yelped and pulled his palms back.
“One more,” said O’Shea. “You decide, which hand?”
Stan Dalton hesitantly extended his left hand, the one that he didn’t have to write with. The fingers were curled and O’Shea used the strap gently to straighten them. Then he raised it over his head and cracked it down on the trembling flesh. Dalton yelped and then whimpered. His shoulders slumped.
“You may take your seat, Mr. Dalton”
The class watched Stan Dalton meekly return to his desk. He was rubbing his hands on his thighs.
“Now,” said O’Shea, confident that he had their attention. “Let’s talk about Algebraic equations.”
Chapter 60
When it was time for Angel to open her presents, Celeste set up a lawn chair in front of the huge pile of gifts and placed her daughter between her thighs on the chair. Angel squirmed until she was comfy and then Celeste handed her the first gift. It was from her grandmother and grandfather and was a pink snow suit with a hood that had a fluffy white fringe on the top. Celeste smiled at her parents. It was just what she had asked them to buy. “Look,” she said, “It matches your dress.”
Angel couldn’t remember snow and didn’t know what the heavy garments were for but she said, “Thank you Papa. Thank you Nanna.”
There were smiles and a few “ohhs” from the party goers. Angel was on to the next gift. Celeste tried to fold the suit back up and get it into the box, but Angel was excitedly ripping into the wrapping paper of her next present. Barb came to help Celeste and took the snowsuit and box so she could re-box it and let Celeste concentrate on Angel. It was a summer dress. It was blue and had a huge pink heart on the chest with a picture of a kitten inside the heart. Celeste read the card to Angel. It was from Aunt Barb, one of the eleven presents that Barb had bought her for the day.
Ten presents into the process, Angel was bored. Everyone had gotten her clothes and they were nice but she felt hot and confined with her mother in the chair and wanted to run around. When Celeste handed her Marjorie and George’s gift, she said, “No more now,” and squirmed free.
Ron could feel the tension emanating from his mother. Marjorie turned to Lois and said, “They just let that child do whatever she wants to do.”
Lois nodded. “She spoiled and she’s too young for this kind of thing.”
Marjorie rolled her eyes and looked at Ron but directed her statement to Lois. “Oh no, she’s a prodigy. The smartest girl the earth has ever seen. Just ask my son.”
Ron’s green eyes flashed dark. “She’s two years old.”
“Then she should be treated like she’s two years old.”
“That’s enough now,” said George. His fear of embarrassment was one of his strongest emotions and Marjorie knew that he hadn’t wanted to be here in the first place.
Celeste realized her mistake. It had already been a long day for Angel and she had missed her nap. Celeste had let the party and the preparations and the tension of having the Canigliaros and the Bombascos there, along with her desire to just have the day run smoothly to cause her to forget the nap. Angel was cranky. She wanted Ron. She saw him sitting off to the side and ran over to him. She literally dove into his lap and Marjorie recoiled.
She turned to George and said, “You’re right, it’s more than enough.”
She turned to Ronald who was tossing Angel gently into the air and catching her and said. “We’re going to be going.”
“Just a second,” said Ron. “I’ll walk you to the car.”
“I think you should stay with what’s important to you, Ronald,” said his mother.
She and Lois walked away. George said, “You know how she is. Let her get over it.”
“Get over what?”
Angel no longer tossed and giggling ran off to find someone else to play with her. She was on overdrive and headed for a crash.
“You know how she is,” repeated George.
Janine had heard everything. At Anna’s request, she had positioned herself where she could hear what Marjorie and George were saying without interacting with them. It was going to be an interesting phone call tomorrow morning.
It was about eight o’clock in the evening. Just about everyone had left. Celeste brought Ron out of the basement where he’d been reviewing for the next day’s classes.
The dining room table had been cleared off except for the coffee that was in front of Anna along with her deck of Tarot Cards. Janine and Anna had taken classes together to learn how to read them and Anna was uncannily good with them. Janine’s mother Hannah was the best in the family, but her skills came from an old tradition of divining that was mysterious and involved pressing her thumb into the forehead of the person she was working with and sometimes stroking the tips of that person’s ears.
Ron sat down across from Anna. He didn’t tell her that he also had a Tarot deck and that he’d done readings and astrology charts in the past.
“Would you mind if I read your cards, Ron?”
“Not at all,” said Ron smiling.
She spread the cards on the table, face up. “Pick the card that you think best represents you,” she said.
Ron gave her his dimpled grin. “Well, let’s go with popular opinion,” he said. He selected The Fool. Janine giggled and Celeste smiled. Anna’s face was expressionless, except for the feel of a tired sadness.
She handed Ron the deck. “You shuffle them.”
Celeste and Janine watched along with Anna as Ron shuffled the cards again and again. Janine stared at his hands. They weren’t as big as Jimmy’s hands. She’d ask Celeste about his equipment the next time that they were alone.
Ron finished shuffling and laid the deck down in front of him. He waited.
“Cut them,” said Anna. Her short red hair was mixed with grey and white. Ron tried to read her face as she shuffled. He couldn’t.
Ron cut the cards and handed them back to Anna.
“Place them on the table,” said Anna.
“Do you know your question?” said Anna.
“Yes,” said Ron.
“Don’t tell me,” she said.
Ron obeyed and watched. Anna turned the deck towards her and picked it up. Slowly she laid the first card down, “This is in back of you.” The ten of Wands appeared. Ron stared at it. A man with his back turned was carrying a load of 10 wands or staffs. Out of the top of each one small green flowers were visible. In the distance was a house.
Anna turned the next card. “This covers you.” The ten of Cups came up reversed. Ron saw the cups in a semi-circle in the air. Underneath them a man and a woman were dancing. In the left corner of the card was the sun and it the other corner was the moon. Anna turned the next card saying, “This is in front of you.” Ron hoped that by doing this that maybe they would be closer together. Maybe she would give him a chance. The two of Swords was revealed. This depicted a blindfolded woman sitting on a rock with her arms crossed at her chest and a long sword projecting from each of her hands. She turned the next card. “This card indicates the emotional factors that are influencing you.” A Woman and a child were seated in a boat. A man standing behind them was using a staff to propel the boat and six Swords were lining the sides of the rowboat. Anna stared up at Ron’s face. She thought that she saw fear and that he was about to ask something. “Just wait until I’m finished” she said. Then you can ask questions. The fear seemed to vanish from Ron’s face and he nodded.
“This next card indicates the outside influences on you. The Queen of Swords came up reversed. A woman wearing a crown was seated on a throne and held up a single sword. “This card indicates your hopes and fears,” said Anna. She turned the card and The Hanged man appeared. A man with his hands behind his back was suspended upside down from a cross by one foot. His other foot was bent at the knee and in back of him. There was a halo around his head. “This last card indicates the outcome to the situation about which you have a question.” The Hierophant appeared. She looked like a priestess of a queen seated on a throne. Two monks were kneeling before her. In her left hand she held a scepter and right hand was raised in a symbol of peace.
Ron stared at the pictures. His emotional mind flicked from one to the other. He knew that The Fool meant hope. It was why he had chosen it. He wondered if there was any attempt to reach out to Anna that would meet with a measure of success. He tried again to reach into her.
“So what do you see?”
“A confused situation with a troubled past and influences that are stacked against things working out. Although, there is hope in these cards.”
Ron was drawn to the boat and the man standing with a staff, rowing a woman and child. He’d learned to trust what he saw in the cards as much as he trusted the written explanations of what was there.
Ho looked at Celeste. He saw that she didn’t see anything in the cards but was hopeful that maybe there was a place of agreement of peace. He felt the warmth of her there with him. Agreement and peace and a chance to make it work. That’s what they were asking for. Why was it so difficult to achieve?
Janine’s eyes flicked behind her tinted glasses from one card to the other. She knew what she saw. She didn’t need to be told, but it was Anna’s reading.
“The answer to your question is that there is a difficult path in front of you and no guarantee of success. You are haunted by a past that you could not control. You’re impetuous to believe that you can control your future. You’re wrong and you know it. But you want a fighting chance. You feel like you deserve it. That’s also wrong. You may get it but it won’t be because you deserve it.”
Janine felt her eyes widen. Anna truly was uncanny.