Archives for November 2013

Chapter 41

Marjorie was tight lipped when she and George told Ron that there was going to be a baby. She tried to smile but Ron could see that her heart wasn’t in it. George didn’t know that though. He was worried about money. His gambling debts had worsened since he had the added expenses that came with not living at home. It was true that Marjorie earned a good salary for a woman. But each Thursday, George forked over half of his paycheck from the printing company to the two guys that showed up and were friendly enough but wanted to be paid.

“Who are these guys?” said Ron.

“They’re friends of George’s.”

“They don’t look like friends.”

“You’re better off not knowing some things Ronald.”

Ron felt stung. “Since when?”

Marjorie was at her wits end. She had already taken out two finance company loans. She couldn’t get a third. He had promised her twice that he was done gambling. Each time he had lied. Each time he’d promised that it would be the last time. Ron had listened to these late night confessions while they thought that he was sleep.

“I don’t know what to do, Margie. I just can’t seem to stop.”

“Don’t you care about anybody but yourself?”

“That’s not it.”

“It must be the case. Otherwise you wouldn’t do this to me.”

George said, “What about the other bankbook?”

Marjorie looked at him in shocked disbelief. “You can’t be serious. I’ve never touched that. Not even when we didn’t have the rent. It’s not my money.”

Ron knew what they were talking about now. When he was in second grade, they had begun a bank savings program in his school. Whenever he was given any money for birthdays or holidays, at least half of it went into the bank. His mother kept it for him. He didn’t know how much was there.

“We could use it to get out from under this,” said George.

“George, the two of you don’t get along. How can I ask him for this?”

“You don’t ask him, you tell him.”

“You don’t understand. You don’t know what it used to be like between him and me. I can’t just tell him.”

“If I miss a payment, you know what will happen.”

“They aren’t going to damage someone who pays George. That wouldn’t be good business. You know these guys most of your life.”

“That doesn’t matter,” said George morosely.

Two days later, Marjorie told Ron what she needed to do. She had gone to see Vinnie Caputo, the shy. He tallied up George’s number for her. In addition to the one thousand dollar loan that they had at each of the finance companies, George was into Vinnie for fifteen hundred more. Ron’s bankbook could wipe that out. The vig was ten percent of the balance each week. That meant that on the fifteen hundred dollars, George was paying one hundred and fifty dollar a week in interest. It had to stop. The numbers would never allow them to climb out from under and George would keep dreaming for that big hit that would make everything even.

“If I pay it off, will you promise not to loan him anymore money?”

“I really can’t do that, Marjorie. George is a friend.”

The irony of this would not allow her to hold her tongue. “Is this what a friend does? What kind of a person ruins his friend’s life?”

Vinnie the Shy was a short squat man with salt and pepper hair. They were Caruso’s Ristorante. As a silent partner, Vinnie owned half of the place. It gave him a declarable income and a spot to do business. Marjorie sat in front of her cold cup of coffee thinking that none of these places knew how to make a good cup of coffee. She stared up at Vinnie the Shy. “If you loan him anymore money, I’ll leave him.”

“That’s none of my business,” said Vinnie.

For two days Marjorie agonized about what to do. She was sick in the mornings now. It was an effort to get herself to work each day, but George said that it would pass and that she would feel better soon.

“Ronald, I need a favor.”

“Sure.” He knew it was coming. He had heard the conversation. He could read the resolute look on her face.

“George and I need to borrow the money in your bankbook.” She said it flatly. She had forced the words out. She hadn’t wanted to say them but here it was and now she had said it. “I’ll make sure that you get it back,” she added.

Ron felt the anger rise up in him that George wasn’t even there. He’d left this shitty job to his mother. “Just take it,” said Ron.

“Ronald, I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t you. I know that.”

“Yes, it is. It’s me here asking you.”

“It’s your money Mom. There wouldn’t be a me without you.”

“Would you like to go and visit Aunt Dottie? See if any of your old friends are around?”

“Sure. When?”

“Let’s go now.”

From the appearance of the way that her life was now, a person who didn’t know would not think that Dorothy Thomas had any important friends. Sure she dolled up in her minks and diamonds on Saturday nights when they went to the corner bar, but that didn’t mean anything really. Dorothy had once been married to the president of the teamsters in Newark. She was on a first name basis with Newark’s mayor. She had been friends with Peter Rodino was a member of the House of Representatives.

Marjorie explained what had happened. Dorothy’s scowl was deep.

“What are you doing with this loser?”

“He’s a hard worker.”

“He’s dumb. He thinks being a hard worker entitles him to be stupid.”

“Will you make a phone call?”

“And say what?”

“Get them to stop loaning him money.”

“I’d rather get them to break his legs.”

“Don’t say that. Aunt Dottie, I’m pregnant.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake. Why did you do that?”

“It just happened.”

“It never just happens. Does Ron know?”

“Yes.” Marjorie paused. This last part was going to be more difficult. “He said that I could take his bankbook to pay off the Shy.”

Dorothy’s gaze felt like a razor blade. “You really should be ashamed of yourself.”

Marjorie wanted with all her heart to remind her aunt that she had been a little girl in a rooming house with her grandmother, Dorothy’s mother, when they were too poor
to ride the bus and Dorothy was spending weekends on yachts.

Dorothy shook her head. “I’ll make the call, but Margi if a man is hungry to gamble, he’ll find a way to get the money.”

 

 

Chapter 42

“When’s Ron coming over?” said Angel.

“Not until much later. He’s working,” said Celeste.

“I don’t like it when he works. Why does he have to do that?”

“That’s what adults have to do.”

“Are you an adult?”

Barbara and Anna grinned at the precocious question.

“Yes,” said Celeste, ignoring the smirks.

“Why can’t you work? Ron can stay here and play with me.”

Part of Celeste had dreaded springing this information on her mother and cousin, but the time was right. “I am going to start working,” said Celeste.

Anna and Barb froze. What was she talking about? What kind of shit did she think she was going to pull now?

Angel wandered away to play with her tea set. She had wanted to play tea party with Ron. She didn’t understand the implications for her and Celeste had decided that she would explain all of that to her later. Right now, she had dropped a bomb and was waiting for the explosion.

Anna began slowly. “What do you mean that you are going to work?”

Celeste’s income consisted of her support checks from Angel’s father and her welfare checks. She hated taking public assistance, but Anna and Mario had assured her that was what it was there for. Mario had never been proud about taking handouts and this wasn’t even in his name.

“I’m taking a part time job at a doctor’s office.”

“You have a baby!” said Anna. Barb nodded in a very quiet and supportive way that told Celeste that she had no ally in this situation. “I’m sorry Celeste. I’m just not able to take care of her. She’s too much.”

“I know that Mom. I’m going to enroll her in daycare.”

“At her age? Are you crazy?”

Barb spoke up for the first time. “Horrible things happen at those places, Cele. It’s a bad idea.”

“I won’t allow it,” said Anna.

“It’s not your decision, Mom.”

“What kind of a mother are you?” said Anna.

“You always worked,” said Celeste.

“I had no choice,” glared Anna. “And you were never left with strangers. You were always with family.”

“It’s a good day care center. It’s right at the Community College. It will only be for four hours a day.”

“Four hours a day!” screamed Anna. In her younger days, Anna would have taken off her shoe and thrown it at Celeste. Now the pain in her back made the bending too difficult for it to be her response.

Celeste got up and left the room to check on Angel.

Barb said, “She won’t really do it.”

“Yes, she will,” said Anna. “She wants this guy and she is willing to anything that she has to do in order to have him.”

“Foolish girl. She has a beautiful baby. That should be enough,” said Barb.

“Nothing has ever been enough for her,” said Anna.

 

Chapter 43

 

Marjorie sat George down.  Ron was with Harry. She’d called him and said that golf or no golf that he needed to see his son, and Harry had agreed. He’d stopped taking Ron to work with him on a regular basis. That had stopped a while ago. Harry was learning a new game. He’d gotten too old for softball. Bowling held limited interest. Then he discovered golf. He knew that he’d gone overboard. His new wife didn’t know how to complain as long as food was on the table and her bills were paid and her daughter provided for. Now she was pregnant with another one. But Marjorie was right. He’d neglected his son.

“George, I went to the doctor’s yesterday.”

“What did he say?” George’s tone and the expectation of the question telegraphed the need to hear that everything was alright. He wanted a rubber stamp. He expected it.

“George, there are problems. The doctor says that I’ve got to slow down and take it easy.”

“What does he mean?”

“He thinks that I should work less and spend more time in bed. He thinks that I shouldn’t be lifting things or scrubbing floors.”

“I’ll mop the floors,” said George. “I don’t think that we can afford to have you cut back at work.”

Marjorie agreed. She might lose her job.

 

Harry Tuck snapped a quick throw at Ron. He snagged it and whipped it back. Harry smiled.  The throw stung his hand. His son had a decent arm. He blooped a toss. He watched Ron hold the glove up. He saw him squint, but he caught it and a grin spread from his face through his body as it winged it back.

 

“George, I’m not sure that I can do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m tired. I’m trying. I don’t feel right.”

“You’ll feel better soon,” said George.

 

Chapter 44

The miscarriage hit the day before Ron’s birthday. It happened in the kitchen. Marjorie was on her knees with the pain. The blood was flowing out of her along with pieces of something else. She screamed but it wouldn’t stop and she couldn’t move and even though she was home, she was alone.

Marjorie clawed at the linoleum floor. George walked into the house and stood there horrified at the sight of her. He called an ambulance. He rode with her to the hospital.

It was officially determined that she’d had a miscarriage and needed what was known as a D&C. Marjorie, who was now more than half crazed, said no. It was her son’s birthday and she had to be there for him. She needed to see him. If he wasn’t there, she was alone in the world.

Against the objections of doctors, nurses and two hospital administrators, Marjorie signed herself out. They had her in an adult diaper because she was still leaking blood.

Ron was at home watching TV. It was late on a Saturday afternoon in June and he had been out all day. After dinner he wanted to go out again. These were the long days when summer had almost started. He could play ball until it was almost nine o’clock.

He looked up when they came in. Something was very wrong. His mother was walking very slowly and painfully. She was pale. George was holding her arm. Something was very wrong.

Ron was on his feet. “What happened?”

“They took me to the hospital,” wailed Marjorie.

Ron ran to her and then stopped. Would it hurt if he held her? “What’s wrong?”

“I lost the baby,” said Marjorie with a tint of shame.

“You’re hurt,” said Ron.

“They want me to have an operation.”

“Why?”

“Because I lost the baby.” Marjorie made it sound like it was a punishment.

George watched as a different kind of look overcame Ron. He became very composed. He straightened.  His eyes were dark green when they flicked to George. “Why isn’t she still in the hospital?”

Marjorie seemed to shrink a little. George said, “She signed herself out.”

“You let her?”

            “What was I supposed to do?”

            The look of disdain that crossed Ron’s face reminded Marjorie of Harry and she felt, for that instant, safer. “You’re right,” said Ron. He turned to his mother. “We have to go back there right now.”

            “Can’t we wait until after your birthday?”

            Ron’s face softened when he gazed into her eyes. “No, we can’t.”

            George was stunned when she just turned around and let them take her back through the door. She would have never done that for him.

           

 

Chapter 45

            After baking in the sun for the last several days and spending most of the summer in shorts and t-shirts, Ron fidgeted uncomfortably in his jacket and tie. He had traded his over the shoulder, green canvas bag for a book salesman’s sample bag. It looked like a medium sized piece of luggage, but Ron found that if it stood it on his desk that it was the perfect height for a podium. It might weigh as much as thirty pounds at different times of the year, but it was durable and had room for everything that he needed.

            He didn’t have his own classroom at Perpetual Help. There was no place to hang his Lincoln and he missed having it in the classroom. There were no pictures on the walls and no decorations of any kind expected or allowed and Ron was also pleased with this.

            He undid he top shirt button and ran his finger around the inside of his collar as he watched the students for his American Literature class file in. They were not required to wear uniforms of any kind. They were expected to be presentable at all times.

            There was little freedom in his curriculum and the finals were departmental so the pacing of what was covered when was also of some importance. He hadn’t chafed against these restrictions in his first year. He’d just been trying to make a good impression. He knew that this was considered one of the most academically challenging private high schools in the northern part of the state. If he didn’t cut it, they would cut him in an eye blink.

            His class sizes were larger. The total number of students that he had in his five classes had climbed to a staggering one hundred and fifty students. It was almost twice as many as he had at his previous school and Ron had learned that a series of frequent vocab quizzes were essential.

            Some of his students knew him as Coach Tuck and others just called him Mr. Tuck. Ron noted with some pleasure that their faces had the same eager looks that all the students he’d ever taught had.

            “Good morning. My name is Mr. Tuck and this is American Literature Honors. Check your schedules and make sure that you’re in the right place.” He paused a moment as the students stared at the computer generated printouts of schedules that they received in the mail. “Some people believe that American Literature starts of slowly. That for the longest time, it was just a parody of English Literature. Early American settlers didn’t have much time or use for books and reading.” Ron heard a soft cheer go up from two guys sitting in the back of the room. He smiled up at them and made eyes contact. “Oh, so you both like that philosophy?” They grinned and nodded. “I see. You and I may have an area of disagreement there. Here is how we are going to resolve it. You will embrace literature like it was a pretty sixteen year old girl in a bikini.” The class laughed.

            “What is your name please?” said Ron. He pointed. “You, cheerleader on the left.” The class laughed again.

            “Mark Simon.”

            “Would you like to embrace a pretty sixteen year old who was wearing a bikini?”

            Mark nodded enthusiastically.

            “Then you must learn to use the language properly and have some sophistication about what you read. Do you know why?”

            Mark shook his head back and forth.

            “In frontier times, you might need a good plow, a good horse, maybe a cow if you were lucky. Have you ever milked a cow, Mr. Simon?”

            “No,” said Mark blushing and laughing at the same time.

            “Neither have I. Now we have machines that milk them. Do you understand what that means?”

            Ron let Mark Simon off the hook. He swiveled his head. “Cheerleader on the right. What is your name?”

            “Paul Panini.”

            “Do you know what that means?”

            “You’re saying that the world has changed.”

            “Very good Paul. The world has changed and now, in order to get the little passionate girl in the bikini, it’s better to be smart than brawny. Using the language helps you to get smarter.” Now Ron could borrow from some other openings that he’d used when he taught all girls. His class was grinning and interested. He had them. They had been easy.

            Ron circled back to his book bag. “Literature book,” he held it up for them to see. “Vocabulary book,” he held up the thin, narrow paperback. “You are to have a notebook with you each and every day. I’ll tell you when we will be using the grammar books.” Ron paused and stared at them. “I would like to have to use the grammar books as little as possible, but that will depend on your essays. I’ll want a writing sample as soon as possible and so for tonight you will begin with this.

            Ron read a poem that he’d found in a book of Native American Poetry. It was called, We The First People. Then he passed out a copy to each of them.

            “I know that not all of you have your books yet, so we will start with them at the next class. For now, I would like a short five paragraph essay on your responses to this poem. That’s right guys, you are to write it tonight.”

 

Chapter 36

 

            George took Ron to the Arrow Bar that afternoon. It was a place that he worked on the weekends and Ron hadn’t ever been there before. It was a long dark narrow place with a mahogany bar and some round tables set off opposite it. There was a group of men sitting around one of the tables and George lit up when he saw them. He left Ron standing at the bar. Ron’s eyes instinctively searched for the juke box or the pinball machine but he couldn’t find either. What kind of a joint was this?

            The bartender was an old guy who wore an apron that swelled out over a large stomach. His beefy arms were partially covered by a long sleeve shirt that was turned up at the cuffs. “Ain’t nothing for you in here, kid.”

            Ron didn’t answer. He gestured over at George who had his back to him and said, “I’m with him.”

            “You’re with Father George?”

            “Who?”

            “George Bombasco. Around here everyone calls him Father George.”

            “Why?”

            “Just a nickname.”

            “What’s it mean?”

            “You better ask him.”

            Ron had no intentions of asking George anything that he didn’t have to ask him and decided to just let it go. The bartender saw an opportunity for a little fun.

            “Hey, Father George, kid here wants to know how you got your nickname.”

            GimmeTwo laughed, “Because he was always preaching to everybody about how bad gambling was while he’s making bets.”

            George flushed. It wasn’t information that he wanted Ron to have. He knew that the kid would throw it up at him.

            GimmeTwo waved Ron over. ‘Come on over kid, let’s get a look at you.”

            Ron walked over hesitantly. There were four men at the table and George was standing facing them. He half turned as Ron walked over. “Everybody, this is my son, Ronald.”

            The shock of the words hit Ron like ice water being thrown into his face. They immobilized him. He had never once thought of himself as George’s son and George had never said those words before. Then it hit him. It was for show. But if it was for show, did that mean that he was proud of him? He never acted in the least bit proud.

            George said, “Ronald this is GimmeTwo,” he stopped and looked confused, “I mean this is Mr. Rossi.” Everyone at the table chuckled and George laughed with them.

Babootz said, “I want to see you remember my name.”

Everyone laughed again.

George said, “Lemme think.”

Babootz said, “Call me Babootz, Ronnie. These guys won’t know who you are talking about if you call me Mr. Bontafacio.”

“OK, Mr. Bontafacio,” said Ron.

George said, “I never would have remembered it.”

Ron thought that Babootz made him sound like some kind of monkey and wondered if his hairy body was the reason that he got the name. That wasn’t a good question to ask.

Jimmy the Gigolo said, “Nice to meet you Ronnie. So, you’re George’s son?”

Ron felt trapped. If he said no it would seem like he was contradicting George and instinctively he knew that contradiction was either ball busting or an insult. Now the table was staring at him, waiting for him to respond. Saying yes would be betraying his dad. For the first time in his life he said, “I’m his stepson.” He felt nausea sweep over him when he said it.

George said, “This is Jimmy the Gigolo.” He was smiling. Ron hadn’t let him down or said anything smart-assed.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Gigolo.”

The table burst out in raucous laughter. Ron didn’t know why.

“Just Jimmy will be fine, Ronnie.”

Now Ron was confused again. He had been taught that it was impolite to address adults by their first name. “OK.” It wasn’t like he was ever going to be seeing very much of these men.  

Now they were all having fun with this little game. A man with diamond rings on each of his pinkies said, “My name is easy. I’m just Whitey.”

Ron smiled. “Like Whitey Ford.”

The table exploded again. Whitey had earned his name by betting a bundle against Ford twice during the 1955 World Series. He’d lost both times.

“Yeah,” said Whitey, shaking his head with a self-deprecating grin, “just like him.”

“You want a soda, Ronnie?”

George spoke up and said, “Nah, we got to go. His mother will be worried.”

“She afraid that you’re taking him to the track, Father George?”

Ron could have used the soda but he was happy that they were leaving.

 

 

Chapter 37

Ferry lectured endlessly and Ron could tell that that Artie was having a hard time staying awake. He drank soda after soda and kept wiping his face with his hands. Larry pretended to understand and took lots of notes so that he could parrot back Steve Ferry’s words and sound like he knew what he was talking about. Paul did understand. He’s been a quarterback who was fast and smart. He’s just been too short and slow to play college ball.

It was the second afternoon and Ferry was talking defense. He was really talking about reads. His belief was that you could only coach the first couple of steps of a play on defense. It was read and react. He didn’t have the talent for an attack defense, at least he didn’t think he did. Ferry was talking about the strong side safety in a four/four alignment. The middle defensive back would always shade to the opponent’s tight end side. “This man has an excellent view of the field and can see how the play is starting to develop. He watches the strong side guard and if he pulls to the right,” Steve stopped and positioned himself in front of them with his knees bent and his hands in front of him elbows crooked. He moved his left foot forward and gave his body a quarter turn. “This is his first step. Now, if he sees the wide receiver release towards the middle of the field, he squares up and plays football from here. If that receiver tries to come towards him, he needs to be ready to cover or deflect a block, but he can’t lose sight of what’s happening in the backfield. This man is our last line of defense and no one is to get in back of him.”

Ron thought you could draw things up this way, but when you were on the field, you had to let your instincts take over. Sometimes you just knew what was going to happen. You couldn’t stop and think about all these things. You’d be standing there when the play flew by you.

Ferry looked at Ron’s face like he was reading his mind. “We have to train his instincts by doing it over and over in practice so that he no longer thinks about it.”

Ron and Paul nodded. Larry wrote down …train his instincts. Artie yawned and said, “I gotta take a leak.”

Ron stood up. He wanted a cigarette. Steve said, “I think we’re about done. Tomorrow, Ron, you take shoulder pads,”

Ron nodded.

“Artie, you handle girdles.”

“Paul, you and I will do helmets.”

“You got it,” said Paul.

Steve said, “I want you to lay aside about ten of the new ones. I don’t want the bench riders who are seniors to gobble them up. When we’re all done we’ll see what we have left and swap out some of the better helmets to the younger kids who will be on the field.”

All of the coaches nodded. They were interested again. This endless lecture was actually coming to an end.

“Larry, you handle pants and practice jerseys. Make sure they fit tight. Nothing looks worse that a football player with a saggy ass.”

Larry beamed. He didn’t realize that Ferry had given him the one area that did not include any real equipment. It had the least to do with football aside from the entertainment factor when the new players sometimes put in their thigh pads upside down. Everyone was sure that Larry had learned the correct way to insert a thigh-pad by now.

Out in the parking lot, Ron talked with Paul Pamenteri. “How’s married life?” said Ron.

Paul beamed. “Paula is pregnant. It’s a boy.”

“How do you know?”

“There’s this test.”

Ron grinned. He liked Paul and his reputation among the students was that Mr. Pamenteri was ok. He didn’t rat kids out unnecessarily like it was a search and destroy mission, but he was smart enough to define boundaries. Ron was in the process of doing that but this was just his second year.

Perpetual Hope was a strange school in an affluent area of a wealthy county that was a combination bedroom community for New York City and wealthy people who had made small fortunes in New Jersey. If they were Catholic, they enjoyed the status of sending their sons to  private school. It was would be necessary that the level of education at the private school be above average. There had to be some success with sports. The tuition was not a factor, unless expectations weren’t met.

Paul was from Paterson. Now he lived in Totowa. He was a history teacher who Ron had been told took it seriously and tried to get his students to see concepts in history, not just dates and names.

Ron said, “They gave me an honors class.”

“Hey Ron?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you something without you saying anything before the announcement?”

“Sure.”

“They’re expanding the Guidance Department, and I’m in.”

“Is that what you wanted?”

“Yeah, I’m taking classes at William Paterson and getting my guidance certificate and now I’ll have the credentials and the experience to move over to a public school.”

“That’s what you want?”

“Ron, I got a wife and a kid on the way. I can’t work for peanuts anymore.”

“That makes sense,” said Ron. His brain was grasping at it. “So how many games do you think we win this year?”

Paul laughed. “Maybe three.”

 

 

Chapter 38

The apartment building where George, Marjorie and Ron lived was shaped like a U with a center court entrance. There were shrubs that grew on a dirt island and along the inner sides of the building. There was a backyard but it was dingy and littered with broken glass and very little grew there. But next door was a vacant lot where someone had planted grass at one time.

Then a Baptist Church bought it and mowed the grass. Now it was a perfect football field. Ron played with guys that he met from the Boys Club. It was before he had ever experienced an injury and the game showed him at his best. He played with abandon and fury. They would have games until it was too dark to see and then they would wander home tired, spent and dirty.

Tina Poleski used to watch them from the window in her room and when she saw that the game was breaking up, she would comb her hair out and run downstairs to be sitting on the steps when Ron came home.

“Hi, Ronnie.”

“Hi, Tina.”

“Was it a good game?”

“Yeah.”

“Ronnie, would you do me a favor?”

“Sure, if I can.”

“There’s a place in the backyard that frightens me. Would you take me there?”

“Why?”

“So I won’t be frightened of it anymore.”

They got up and walked around the side of the building and then opened the low chain link fence that led into the backyard. Tina reached out for Ron’s hand and he took it. As they were walking along the concrete pathway, a window opened.

“Tina Poleski, I told you that the next time that I caught you back here with a boy after dark that I was telling your mother. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Tina whispered, “Oh shit” to Ron and then called up. “Mrs. Kresge, we weren’t doing anything. We were just going in the back way.”

“Don’t give me that nonsense. Tina you’re a little liar. Does that boy even live in this building?”

“Hello, Mrs. Kresge. It’s Ronald Tuck.”

“Ronald, your mother is going to hear about this!”

“Hear about what? Tina asked me if I would show her something.”

“I’ll bet she did.”

Tina whispered, “I’d love to see it.”

Ron blushed. “We’re leaving Mrs. Kresge. Nothing to worry about.”

They both heard the window slam down.

“Would you show it to me, sometime, Ronnie?” Ron blushed again. “I’ll bet it gets really hard and big.”

“We’d better go inside,” said Ron.

That night Ron lay in bed masturbating to Tina’s words over and over again. He would hear them in his head like a record that was stuck in a grove saying, “I’ll bet it gets really hard and big.” It was the first time a girl had ever said anything like that to him before.

 

 

            Chapter 39

            The first day of real practice was a scorcher.  They baked in the sun and Ferry ended the practice session early when he saw that some of his players were starting to wobble on their feet. There would be a two hour break before they would start again. Ferry reminded them that they had to shower, they had to drink a lot of fluids but they should try not to gulp mass quantities down.

            When they got into the coaches’ office, Artie peeled off his outer shirt revealing a Mizuna that was made of a rubberized material that didn’t breathe. He lifted it and several ounces of gathered perspiration splashed down onto the floor.

            “That’s disgusting Artie,” said Paul.

            Artie laughed.

            Ferry gave him a disapproving look and said, “Either do that outside or in the shower room. Artie pulled the shirt up over his head and several more ounces of sweat splashed down onto the floor. Ferry raised his tone. “I’m not fucking around Artie. Do that again and I won’t allow you back in here.”

            Artie Ferris slunk away.

            Larry said, “Someone should tell Brother Ward about how disgusting that man is.”

            The room grew silent. Larry Viola was actually saying that he was going to do it and they all understood that immediately.

            Steve Ferry said, “It won’t be you. I’ll speak to Artie. Housebreak him a little better but coaches don’t squeal on each other Larry. There’s a code. And nobody works better with the grunts up front than he does.”

            Paul added, “Artie’s alright. He just doesn’t have any manners.”

            “He lives in a cave,” said Larry.

            Steve said, “Ron, this afternoon, I want you to take the d-backs under those trees at the other end of the field and work the reaction to ball drill when we break off into groups.”

            “Shorts and helmets?” said Ron.

            “Yeah, I think so. It’s just too damn hot. Paul, how’s the wing?”

            “It’s fine, said Paul. He rotated his arm up over his head and stretched it until he could touch the center of his back.

            “Do some throwing with the qb’s and the ends. We’re going to be running a lot of crossing patterns and they have to learn how to lead the receiver and not telegraph where the ball is going.”

            Paul nodded but he knew that it was probably beyond the quarterbacks that they had to be doing this kind of work this soon.

            “I want you to set up the slap drill, Larry. Wait. We can’t run that one in shorts and helmets. Nevermind. Let me think about it and we’ll save that for tomorrow.”

            “Whatever you want, coach.”

            “I’m going to have the team report at 8 am. Maybe we should scrap the afternoon practice and try to do one long session that starts before it gets so miserable out.”

            The coaches grinned.

Steve Ferry could do whatever he wanted to do with their schedules, but this sounded like an unexpected afternoon off in the precious dwindling days before classes started. Artie was waddling back into the offices naked. “Put something on,” shouted Ferry. “Anyone can come down here.”

 

 

Chapter 40

Ron drove home late. He was too tired to eat. He just wanted to peel off his clothes and crawl into bed in his tiny air conditioned bedroom that had a folding door to separate it from the living room and a sheet that was tacked over the entry to the living room to keep the cool air consolidated.

He’d wanted to run and tried to tell himself that he would gain energy from a run, but his body had whimpered back its response. He needed to call it a day. He stripped and climbed into bed and brought the phone with him for company. He dialed her number and closed his eyes.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

They felt the mutual smile through the connection. “Did you have dinner?” said Celeste.

“I’ll have breakfast,” said Ron. He felt her wanting to feed him through the phone. “I was surprised. Ferry said we were going to send the kids home today after one session, then he sprung on us that we needed this marathon film session.”

“Are you exhausted?”

“Yeah. Listen I want to talk to you about something.”

“OK.”

“We’re going to need more money to live than we have.”

“I need to go to work,” said Celeste.

“What about Angel?”

“If I could get something part-time, there’s a day care center at the Community College.”

“How is that news going to be received?”

“Things are going to change,” said Celeste.

“That’s an understatement,” said Ron.

They giggled a mutual laugh that was more of a coo. Ron felt himself relax into the feel of her. The silence was warm as the night air.

He added. “After football, I’m going to take on a Forensics Team and between that and tutoring, I’ll make more.”

“We’ll have enough,” said Celeste. “We don’t need that much.”

Ron wasn’t sure that he liked the sound of that completely. He hadn’t given a lot of thought to money since he had worked at Our Lady of the Forlorn that first year and that summer had to live on Swiss cheese and pasta. He’d drunk tap water because he couldn’t afford coffee. He’d even tried flavoring it with condiments that he’d picked up at his mother’s house. He hadn’t liked feeling poor. It brought back hot memories that he needed to push away.

“I wish that I was there with you,” he said.

There was silence.

Celeste answered, “If you spent the night here, you’d be closer to work in the morning.

Energy that he didn’t know that he had, surged in him. “You think it would be ok?”

“I’ll make it ok,” said Celeste.

 

Chapter 31

The next day Ron was sent out of class and told to report to the principal’s office. This was never a good sign but Ron was pretty sure that he hadn’t done anything wrong. Sister Wilma Delores smiled broadly when she saw him.

“Ronald, Father Joyce is waiting to see you over at the rectory. Don’t be nervous and just tell him what you told Sister Mary Salvatore.”

Ron rang the bell and waited outside of the rectory. It was a long wait and he was unsure if the bell had rung or if he should ring it again. If he rang it again they might think that he was pushy and lacked patience. If he didn’t ring it again, he might just be standing here while the priest was inside waiting for him to appear. He rang it again. He could see motion through the small window in the center of the door.

Father Richard Joyce was disappointed by Ron’s age and size. Ron was almost as tall as he was and the priest did not get that powerful rush that he felt when he looked down at smaller, younger boys. A convert was a convert though.

“It’s my understanding that you have an interest in Catholicism,” said Father Joyce.

“Yes, I do Father,”

“And how did this interest arise?”

“I attend the grammar school.”

“What is your current religion?”

“I’m Protestant.”

“Which denomination?”

“Well I was Presbyterian, but my church closed and so I attended a Reformed Lutheran church for a while because it was the only one that I could get to.”

“Your parents didn’t attend with you?”

“No, Father.”

“And why was that?”

            “My parents are divorced, Father.” Ron hated the endless repetition of this litany. He hated the way that people looked at him with baleful eyes after he said it. Joyce’s eyes and face showed no expression, except for a hint of disapproval.

            “And how did you come to attend Our Lady of the Forlorn’s grammar school?” Joyce of course knew the answer to this question but he wanted to make the boy describe it.

            “My mother got me admitted,” said Ron. He didn’t want to go through it again and was taking the chance that it was just one of the questions on the list and that Joyce really didn’t care about his answers.

            “Why did your mother, a non-practicing Protestant, want you in a religious school?”

            Anger flashed through Ron. He’s going to make me say it, he thought.

“I got into some trouble, Father and the police thought that it would be best if I didn’t attend Broadway Junior High.”

“Were you arrested?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know?”

“No one said that I was under arrest.”

“What had you done?”

“I brought a knife to school.”

“Did you hurt anyone?”

“No Father.”

“Well, everyone makes mistakes Ronald.”

That was the first really kind thing that he’d said to him. Maybe the worst was over.

“Thank you, Father.”

“A boy your age would have already been confirmed and would have studied his religion extensively.”

“I have studied religion a lot.”

“The Catholic faith, Ronald.”

For a moment Ron’s pride was stung. Part of him wanted to say, go ahead ask me things. That wouldn’t be a good idea. Ron didn’t answer.

“You’ve read the bible haven’t you, Ronald?”

“Yes.”

“Knowing scripture isn’t a bad thing, but it really has very little to do with being a good Catholic.”

“First of all you have to convince me that you are sincere. Then we can do the study together.”

            “How do I convince you of that?”

            “First of all by being patient.”

            “Yes Father.”

            “Secondly you will come here this Saturday and each Saturday after that until I feel that you are ready to be baptized.”

            “What time?”

 

Chapter 32

 

            Ron left Celeste’s house early that evening. He didn’t rush his departure, but there was something he needed to do. He parked the car in front of his mother’s house. Again, for maybe the one thousandth time, he wished that his Aunt Dottie was still alive.

            You only get so many guardian angels. She had been his. They had blood between them and there was an acceptance and a soul to their connection.

            Ron opened the door with his key. Dandy barked. Marjorie and George were in the living room watching TV. His entrance startled her.

George was half in the bag.

“Ronald, I didn’t expect you.”

“Would another time be better?”

“She got up and said, “Come into the kitchen.”

The settled in their customary chairs. The gazed into each other’s eyes and there was that love, that honey sweet flow of love that a mother and child share, if only sometimes.

            Ron spoke softly. “I want you to know that this thing with Celeste is serious. She’s going to become my wife. She’s the woman that I’ve chosen.”

            “What about Robin?”

            Ron was shocked that she said her name. “It didn’t work. We tried. She tried more than you know.”

            “What about the mouse?”

            Ron could not help a grin. She refused to stop calling Zoe that. “Too crazy,” said Ron. He thought a moment. “Maybe she just scared me.”

            “Sometimes it’s right to be scared.”

            “I’m not scared of Celeste or Angel.”

            “You should be.”

            “I’m going to do this. Please don’t make me fight you for it tooth and nail.”

            “What about Julie?”

            Ron said, “Why did you do that?”

            “She’s a nice girl.”

            “I know.”

            “She loves you.”

            “I know.”

            Ron looked deep into her eyes. “You know the feeling that you had with Rocky, before it went bad?”

“Of course I do.”

“Robin was like my Harry Tuck.” Ron smiled. “We should have had a kid but we didn’t want one. We thought that the world was full and that we needed to learn to take care of those who were already here. It still wouldn’t have worked and there would be a child who needed protection and raising.”

“You’re breaking my heart,” said Marjorie.

“This little girl needs protection and care too. The bonus for me is that I’m in love with her mother.”

“She has a family. Why don’t you want a family of your own?”

“The way that I feel about her is very special. I’ve been in love.” Ron tried his best to speak as earnestly as he could. “This feels more real and stronger than anything I have ever felt.”

“You’re making a mistake,” said Marjorie. “Please listen to me. I know that you’re sincere. And I know that you are making a huge mistake.”

“How do you know?”

“I feel it”

“I don’t trust your feelings about this. I’m going to marry her.”

 

End of Part 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 33

            The heat baked the asphalt so hot that Ron could feel it radiating up through his sneakers. He walked across the parking lot and into the back door of the school.  It was the team entrance and opened into a low slightly darkened narrow hallway. To his left was the door to the boys’ locker room. Ron entered and walked through the empty room that soon enough would carry the sounds and the yearlong smell of perspiration soaked equipment and clothing of teen aged boys.

            Steve Ferry was a bull of a man who did not seem to fit in the desk chair. He stood about six feet and three inches. He had a huge back and head that was covered with a baseball cap out of which stuck the ends of greyish white hair. He looked like he could pull a plow.

            Laying on the worn couch that many people suspected was his only bed, Artie Harris looked up and opened his eyes at the sound of Ron’s entrance. “Hey Crazy Ron is here. Now things will get lively.”

            Ron smiled. “Hiya, Artie. How was your summer?”

            It was still the end of August but it was pretty much acknowledged that summer was over when practices began. There wouldn’t be any more quiet mornings. No more endless days that could be filled any way that a person wanted to fill them.

            Steve turned from the clipboard that had multiple sheets of paper with templates for designing football plays attached to it. “Ron, it’s good to see you.”

            “Good to see you too Steve. How was your summer?”

            “They get shorter all the time,” said Steve.

            Ron didn’t really understand that and just nodded. “Where are we going to meet?”

            Air conditioned rooms were at a premium on this side of the building, but Artie knew where they all were and Ron was pretty sure that he had scouted out a room and turned the air on so that it would be cool.

            Artie said, “They put air in the teacher’s room over the summer. That’s a good spot.”

            Steve shook his head back and forth. “No chalkboard in there. We’ll need one.”

            Artie looked crestfallen. There were no classrooms with air conditioners. Ron said, “We could bring in one or two of the rolling boards.”

            “Fine with me,” said Steve, flicking his eyes over at the rotund and now happier Artie and then winking at Ron.

            Ron and Steve were classroom teachers. They were not unaccustomed to oppressive heat. It didn’t really bother them as much as it did people like Artie who roamed the halls searching for any place to cool off on a day like this. Classroom teachers had to be models for their students or else the complaining and moaning would never allow them to finish or start the school year. No one was really sure what Artie did. He worked around the school. That was it. He coached Hockey. He got up and waddled out to find the rolling chalkboards and bring them to the magnificently cooled teachers’ lounge.

            Larry Voila arrived just as Artie was leaving. They just nodded as they passed one another in the hall. Larry thought that Artie was bad to have around kids. Artie felt the same way about Larry.

            Greetings exchanged. Ron was happy not to be working with Larry this year. Larry had gone to Steve complaining that Ron had undermined his authority last year. The truth was that Larry had never played the game and they all knew it. When he denied the freshman team water after a poor showing at a scrimmage, Ron had instinctively blown his whistle and called for a water break. It happened ten minutes after Larry said, “No, they’ve got to get tougher.” Larry had stomped off the field like an angry child who had his toy taken away. He was even more humiliated when Steve moved Ron up to the varsity staff. Steve was always politely condescending to Larry, who never realized it.

            When Paul Pamenteri arrived, they were ready to start. It was a meagre staff for the one hundred players that would be in the program. They settled in the teacher’s lounge and drank cans of soda that Artie had pilfered from one of the soda machines for which he had a secret key.

            Steve stood and passed out play books. “We need to go through it all,” said Steve. “I made a lot of changes over the summer.” Steve was a physics teacher and a farm boy. To him, football was purely a matter of leverage, angle, strength, speed and desire, but he did like to scheme. They would begin with the offense. This afternoon he would lecture on the defense. Tomorrow he would continue with the same pattern. The next day, his players would arrive and he would begin to see what he actually had.

            Young men’s bodies changed quickly. A boy could go away for the summer standing five foot seven and come back a few months later at having grown inches and thinned out considerably and be in need of bulking up. You had to actually see them before you truly knew what you had. That kind of change might necessitate the need for changes in the scheme. His team was going to be white and slow. He didn’t expect a good year, but in his thirty-fifth year of coaching, his second after retiring from public school, taking a pension and coming to teach and coach here. It was just what he did. Besides, you could always be surprised.

 

Chapter 34

            Ron knelt at the altar rail, opened his mouth and extended his tongue. His mouth was dry and the Communion wafer was dry. It felt a moment of panic as he walked back to his pew with his hands clasped and his eyes down. The wafer had stuck to the roof of his mouth. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t reach in and scrape it off. He wasn’t supposed to let his teeth touch it. He rubbed against it with his tongue and hoped that it would dislodge.

            He wanted that magical feeling of having Jesus inside of him. When he had Communion in his former church they drank grape juice. It was made clear that this was a commemoration of what Christ had done. Ron knew about transubstantiation. This was really God that Ron had inside of him. His tongue couldn’t get the wafer to move. His mind said, Oh Fuck. Then he panicked. He had sinned while the host was in his mouth. There might be a special place in hell for people who did that. Maybe he was the only one who had ever done it. Maybe God didn’t realize. Another lightening thought hit him. He had just sinned again! God was supposed to know everything and here he was doubting Jesus who had bled every drop of his precious blood for him.

            After Mass, Ron ran across the street to the candy store and bought a bottle of coke. He washed his Savior down with a long relished swallow. What a way to begin! Some first Communion he screamed at himself as he walked home alone.

            George was spreading a dirty white rug across the living room floor of their apartment. Marjorie was watching him with a sick look on her face. It covered the hard wood floor that she loved with an ugly combination of white and stain. George contended that it would muffle the sound and that it was important to be considerate of the people downstairs.

            Ron and Marjorie just stared at each other when he said it. They had lived in apartments all their lives. This was George’s first experience.

            “Where did you get this thing?” said Ron.

            “This used to belong to Wobbles,” said George proudly.

            “Who’s that?” said Ron.

            George smirked at Ron’s ignorance. “He’s a friend of George’s,” said Marjorie glumly trying to be patient.

            “He’s probably the most important man in Newark and one of the most important men in the state,” George explained.

            “Never heard of him.”

            “You wouldn’t,” said George.

            Marjorie stayed silent and Ron could see that she hated the thing.  He said, “Why is he giving away his dirty rugs?”

            “Maybe we can cover some of the stains with furniture,” said Marjorie.

            George looked up, exasperated. Each stain felt like a thorn stuck up his ass and these two were going to mention each and every one. “Do you know how expensive this rug was?”

            “You bought this thing?” said Ron.

            George turned redder. “I mean originally.”

           

 

Chapter 35

            Ron drove from the school to Celeste’s house. Anna heard his squeaking approach and saw the delight that spread across Angel’s face. Celeste got up and ran downstairs to change like a love sick school girl. What was happening to her house? He came and went like some storm that you could hear approaching and then had to clean up after.

            Angel was running towards the picture window to look out. Anna waited in her chair at the kitchen table. She lifted her fly swatter and smacked it down at some imaginary bug. If only she could eliminate him the same way.

            Before the doorbell rang Angel was pulling the door open. Ron scooped her up into his arms and kissed her. She squealed with delight.

            Anna said, “Can’t you do something about that squeaking?”

            “I tried. They told me that old Fords get that way but that there was nothing wrong with the car. It isn’t dangerous,” he tried to reassure her.

            Anna didn’t answer. Danger wasn’t the only consideration. It was embarrassing to have the neighbors hear the squeaks and say, “Oh, Ron’s on his way.” She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction of saying that to him, but she had said it to Celeste.

            Celeste hadn’t cared. She opened the door to the basement and came into the dining room. She embraced Ron. They kissed softly. Anna scowled. They did that right in front of the baby. Who knew what else they had done in front of her.

            “Would you like to go for ice cream and to feed the ducks after dinner,” said Ron.

            “Yes!” squealed Angel.

            “You shouldn’t tell her that before dinner,” objected Anna. “Now she won’t eat anything.”

            “If you want ice cream, you have to be a member of the clean plate club,” said Celeste.

            “Ron already said that we could.”

            “Well if Ron said,” Anna repeated bitterly staring at Celeste.

            “Let’s go into the yard, “said Celeste.

 

Chapter 26

 

Before Ron had known Robin and before he had known Zoe, he’d been with Julie. She had long straight dark hair. She loved Marjorie. They had a bond. When Ron left her, Marjorie had cried but then she had written and over the years she learned that Julie had won an award for being a reporter in Texas. She’d gotten a promotion to a station in Windsor Canada that broadcasted into Detroit.

Marjorie wrote, “Ronald is making a terrible mistake and I think that you are the only one who can save him. I know that he loves you and that you have never wanted anything but what was best for the both of you. I want you to come here. I’ve always wanted to embrace you like my daughter.”

When Julie got the message, she stared at it for a long time. Did Marjorie know that she had a daughter now? What was she asking her to do? She looked over at her sleeping child and felt a pang. She had dreamed more than once that it was Ron’s child, but she knew that it wasn’t. In the final analysis, he just hadn’t wanted her.

Maybe he would now? Maybe the years and the experiences had changed him. Maybe he was ready. If he was, she was too. She felt a fire inside of her when she thought about him. He was unabashed. She felt that tingle between her legs and cursed her pussy. Except that her vagina had produced her daughter. It wasn’t all bad. And if he saw her daughter and met her, he would be captivated. That was how he was and she knew it. But why was Marjorie so insistent and what was this mistake? It could only be another woman who was not Robin. Marjorie wouldn’t have written if it was Robin. She’d sent her into that battle before and hugged her after she was bruised and cut from previous skirmishes. Most of all, Marjorie knew that Julie couldn’t win. She wouldn’t do that to her again. She picked up the phone and dialed Marjorie’s number.

“Marge, it’s Julie.”

“I’m so glad that you called.”

“What’s wrong?”

“He wants to get married.”

“To who?”

“Some Italian girl that he hardly knows.”

“Why?”

“I think that he feels like time is passing him by, and he wants to start a real life.”

“I think that we all get that way sometimes,” said Julie.

“Do you still love him?”

“Yes.”

“After all this time and everything that he’s done?”

“I know I sound stupid Marjorie, but yes.”

“Then you’d better get out here.”

“How can I do that? I have no reason.”

“It’s going to be George’s birthday and you’re invited.”

“This is the last time that I’m going to do anything like this,” said Julie.

“It should be,” said Marjorie.

It was easy for Julie to schedule a flight. Her Dad was a pilot and she had a card that allowed her to fly for the price of the tax. Newark Airport was a hub. She thought about how she met Ron and the roller coaster that had been their relationship. She had been taking a summer course at the local community college when they met. By the time the fall began, they were an item and spent each weekend together. One weekend he would drive up to her college and spend the nights in her dorm room and the other she would drive down to his house and stay in his room. That was when she grew close with Marjorie. They played with each other’s hair. They shared secrets. Marjorie told Ron that as long as he was on the couch when she woke up in the morning that she wouldn’t give him a hard time. She stopped walking into Ron’s room without knocking on the door. He introduced Julie to Chris and Laureen and the four of them went places together. She gave him a guitar and he played it horribly. She smiled and grimaced at the same time thinking about the way that he abused that poor guitar. Then she remembered the feel of his hands and the incredibly long eye lashes that he had. She pictured the broadness of his shoulders and smiled. Warren Lashly had been the death of them. Maybe that was unfair but she had grown to hate Warren and his interrogations. She hated the way that Ron looked up to him and let Lashly’s words and ideas become his guiding principles.

Then she met Jeff. He went to her school and she began sleeping with him during the week. He knew about Ron but didn’t care. He managed the radio station and there were plenty of girls that he could have. If she wanted her shift to be regular, she knew what he expected. She brought Ron to the radio station and instantly the two young men took a dislike to each other. Ron had gone with her into Manhattan when she was getting her 3^rd class broadcaster’s license. He quizzed her on the train ride in and then decided to take the test as well. It had amazed her that he passed and she let him talk on the air during her show.

Then they drifted. Every weekend became every other weekend and then it was one weekend a month and then he was gone. It had been tearful but she was relieved. She felt it was coming.

Years later he came to see her while she was doing news updates on the AM dial. She was lonely and he felt so good. He was working in a jail trying to teach kids to read and write, and she had just been named woman broadcaster of the year for a ten part series that she’d done on women in Texas. When he left, she cried and decided that their timing was just so bad that it just wasn’t going to work. Now they were in their 30’s and she knew that she looked good. It was time. She had a failed marriage and a daughter and he had been ripped apart by a relationship with a woman who enjoyed watching him suffer. She could see where that could become addictive.

 

Chapter 27

 

What actually happened was Phillip confided to Carol that Ron wanted to know if Barbara liked him.

Carol scrunched up her face and said, “I don’t think so but I’ll ask her.”

Among the girls it was known that Barbara really liked Richie, but that wasn’t something that she would share with a boy. It would be a betrayal that would make Barbara her enemy forever.

When she told Barbara, the girl let out one of her patented, “Eww’s”

Carol giggled. “Well you did say that his thing got all excited.”

“Exactly,” said Barbara.

The girls giggled again. Then a thought struck Barbara. “He sits right next to me. How am I going to look at him?”

“And not get his thing excited?” teased Carol.

“I’m serious, Carol. How am I supposed to look at him now and read his sloppy papers?”

“How bad are they?”

“The answers are mostly right and he studies but he writes like he is using some kind of tool and needs to cut the words into the paper.”

“In other words, he’s rough and careless?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe he’s just nervous,” said Carol. “Being the new kid and those rumors about him and then he broke Richie’s nose.”

“Did you know that he doesn’t know how to ride a bike?”

“You’re kidding!” said Carol.

“Nope, Richie told me that the guys all made fun about him because of it.”

Carol felt sorry for Ron but she could understand why Barbara didn’t want to be linked to him.

 

During the next day of classes, Barbara was careful not to look at him. He seemed oblivious. That angered her. She wanted him to look at her so that she could ignore him, but he didn’t seem to care. She thought of passing him a note that read, I don’t like you. Leave me alone. But he was leaving her alone and the note would look stupid.

All Ron was able to think about was how much he hated George. His mother had punished him for his outburst and he hadn’t been allowed to go out of the house the next day. He just stayed in his room and read. He came out for dinner and ate without saying anything. He helped to clean up and then he was back in his room.

Ron was wallowing in his reverie of hostility when he heard his name. He looked up to see the faces of the kids in the class turned in his direction. Mary Salvatore was coming down the aisle in his direction.

“So nice of you to join us, Mr. Tuck. May I see what you have been so absorbed with that you didn’t hear me call on you twice?” She picked up the book that was on his desk. It was the same book that they were all reading from and there wasn’t anything hidden in it but he was two pages behind. She stared hard at him. “So you’ve been daydreaming. Would you like to share what you were daydreaming about with everyone?”

“No, Sister.”

“Do you find what we are doing here so boring that you are unable to concentrate?”

“No, Sister.”

“That’s good. Then you’ll be happy to stand up and read for us.”

Carol wrote a quick note and passed it to Phillip. “Maybe he’s thinking about Barbara.” They both grinned.

 

Ron stood and read flawlessly. It was written in children’s language. It retold the story of the Prodigal Son. Ron almost stopped and asked if would be ok if he read it from an actual bible, but he knew that he was being reprimanded for not paying attention. It was time for him to learn how to make things easier on himself. Hadn’t his mother done that when she married George? At least, wasn’t that what she thought that she doing?

That night at dinner Ron announced, “I want to convert to being a Catholic.”

Marjorie looked stunned. George didn’t react. He was born Catholic. He was staying that way. That’s what you were supposed to do. You looked at your plate saw what was there and ate it without complaining.

“And just when did you decide this?”

“While I was walking home,” said Ron.

“Your grand-mother would turn over in her grave.”

“You’re the one who made me go to that school. It’s not my fault.”

“You know very well why you were sent to that school, Ronald. Would you have rathered that I let them send you to a reformatory?”

“Well, now I want to be a Catholic.”

“Do we have to have these conversations at dinner?” said George.

Marjorie took the opportunity to turn on him. “When would suggest that we have them? Whenever anyone starts talking about anything that has any importance, you get up and walk away. Maybe he figures that as long as there is food, at least you’ll stay and listen.” Then she turned back to Ron. “You’re not becoming a Catholic. You were born a Protestant. You were raised a Protestant and that’s how it’s going to stay.”

“No it isn’t, Mom. We have freedom of religion in this country.”

“I don’t know what’s happening to you,” she said staring into his eyes. “You used to be such a nice boy.”

“Look where that got me.”

“Why are you doing this to me? Why do you need to hurt me?”

“You said that I should think for myself and that’s what I’m doing.”

Marjorie hated it when he gave her that look and sounded like his father.

 

 

Chapter 28

Ron tried to be cheerful as he drove Celeste and Angel down to meet Marjorie and George for the first time, but he had a sense that it might be tense.  Celeste was nervous about it. They had waited a while, but things were moving quickly now. It was hard to realize that she had only been with him for a little over two weeks. It seemed so much longer.

The plan was for dinner in the backyard and the weather was cooperating. It was a mild evening with a light breeze. Maybe that was an omen that everything was going to be ok, thought Ron.

Marjorie had cooked and the kitchen was very warm. She was sweating and she blamed it on Ron and this girl, whoever she was. He still had his key to the house, but it didn’t seem right to use it on this occasion. He walked up to the front door with angel in his left arm. Her hands were around his neck as he rang the doorbell. George came to the door. Dandy barked. Angel tensed. Celeste said, “I didn’t know your mom had a dog”

George opened to the door and said, “You forget your key?”

Ron shrugged. “George, this is Celeste and this is Angel.”

“Nice to meet you,” said George smiling.

They walked down the hall next to the flight of stairs that led up to the second floor apartment. In the dark blocking the side door that was never used, Ron glanced down at his Aunt’s old record player. He missed her and sure could have used her help tonight.

“They’re here,” announced George as they walked into the dining room that had once been their bedroom when Ron still lived there. Marjorie came out of the kitchen and smiled politely.

“Mom, this is Celeste and this is Angel.”

The sight of the little girl in his arms made Marjorie want to cry. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Celeste.” Marjorie tried not to look at Angel who was waiting to be greeted and made a fuss over.

“I’m happy to meet you too,” said Celeste, noticing that neither one of them had said anything to Angel, who did not want Ron to put her down.

“We should go out into the yard. It’s too hot in this kitchen,” said Marjorie. She picked up her cigarettes and led them out the back door.

Celeste glanced around. It was a large kitchen, the kind that she loved. She could see immediately that a lot of time was spent there. They walked out into a backyard that was good sized, long and more narrow than hers was. Marjorie sat down at redwood table and lit a cigarette. Then she said, “Ron, would you go into the kitchen and get my Crystal Lite?”

“Sure.” Ron handed Angel to Celeste.

“Would you like something to drink, Angel?” said Marjorie.

Angel felt shy and a little frightened of the white dog who was energetically wagging his tail and wanting to play. She didn’t answer for a moment and then said, “No, thank you.”

“Oh you do know how to talk?” said Marjorie smiling. Celeste wasn’t sure that’s he liked the comment, but knew that Marjorie would find out soon enough how well-spoken Angel was.

“That’s a great tree,” said Celeste, looking at the massive oak that shaded the entire yard.

“It’s been here longer than we have,” said Marjorie.

Ron came back with his mother’s glass of ice tea in one hand and a pitcher of the stuff in his other. He set them down and said to Angel, “Watch this.”

He picked up a beach ball that was lying on the grass and Dandy barked and wagged his fluffy tail furiously. Ron tossed the ball to Dandy who perfectly head butted it back up into Ron’s hands. Angel giggled and said, “Make him do it again.”

Ron happily obliged as they all watched and Marjorie smoked. He was showing off for them. It was cute but she hated it.

“Would you like some Crystal Lite before dinner?” said Marjorie, looking at Celeste.

“Thank you.” Celeste put Angel down and reached for the pitcher but Angel clung hard to her back and Celeste dropped the glass. It spread across the tablecloth that Marjorie had laid out. George got up and hurried into the house for some paper towels. “I’m sorry,” said Celeste. “I guess she’s a little nervous.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” said Marjorie in a tone that implied that there was. The Crystal Lite had almost reached the stack of paper plates, when George came out with a roll of paper towels. “Hurry up! We don’t want it to ruin them too.” George caught it in time. Ron dropped the ball and came over to the table. Angel clung to Celeste. Dandy followed him eagerly. Ron picked up the stack of plates as George wiped the table.

“You’ll have to wipe it down with a sponge,” said Marjorie. “Otherwise it will be a sticky mess.”

“I’ll get it,” said Ron.

Celeste wondered if they could just leave and come back again like this never happened. She said, “What a way to make an impression.”

Marjorie said, “Well, let’s eat.”

 

It took several trips in and out the backdoor to carry out the bowls and platter. George and Ron and Marjorie made the trips. Celeste sat there wanting to help but Angel was back in her arms. She wasn’t used to not helping.

 

“I made one of your favorites,” said Marjorie.

Ron smiled at the platter of pork chops mixed with sauerkraut and potatoes. “Did you use Aunt Dottie’s pot?”

“Of course I did. It won’t be as good as hers was though.”

 

Chapter 29

Ron stayed after school the next day and asked Sister Mary Salvatore what he should do if he was interested in converting. She looked very surprised and pleased.

“This is an important decision Ronald. Are you sure that it is what you want?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“Why is it what you want?”

That was a good question and Ron wasn’t sure how to answer. He thought for a moment. Suppose he said the wrong thing and they wouldn’t let him. “This Church goes back to the time of Jesus,” said Ron. “It’s the religion that he wanted.”

“Well that’s a good reason. Is it your only reason?”

Ron decided that he would tell this nun the truth. “No, but it’s my best one.”

“What are your other reasons?”

“The Church I used to go to closed. I really don’t feel like I have a church now and I don’t think that’s good for me.”

“You don’t go to church at all anymore?” The nun looked concerned. No wonder he had gotten into trouble.

“At Christmas time and at Easter. That’s pretty much it.”

“Is there any other reason?” the nun probed.

Ron sighed. “I want to fit in.”

“That’s the first reason that you’ve mentioned that isn’t a good one. But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Sister.”

“Have you spoken to your mother about this and your father?”

“I told my mother.”

“Does she support your choice?”

“She’ll get used to it.”

“Have you told your father?”

“Not yet.”

“May I ask why?”

“I don’t see him very much anymore. He plays golf now, and sometimes he forgets to come and pick me up.”

“Don’t you think that you should tell him?”

“To be honest Sister, I don’t think he’ll care. He’s not a religious man. He’ll say that I should do what I think I should do.”

“I’ll set up an appointment at the rectory for you Ronald.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 30

 

After the dinner during which Angel pissed Marjorie off by being clingy with both Ron and Celeste, Marjorie caught Ron in the kitchen and said, “This girl isn’t for you.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Didn’t you learn from happened to me?” she said flatly.

“I learned,” said Ron. “I learned not to believe people’s promises. Is that how you want me to go through life, not trusting anyone?”

“I’m just saying that I know you better than anyone, and I telling you that you can do better than this.”

“It isn’t a contest, Mom.”

“Don’t pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I love her and that’s what matters to me. She loves me as well.”

“She’s desperate and you’re her way out.”

“That’s unfair.”

“I might as well tell you now then. I’ve invited Julie to come to George’s birthday party.”

Ron was stunned. He hadn’t spoken to Julie in years. He didn’t even know where she was and he surely didn’t know that his mother was in touch with her. “That’s great Mom. I’m bringing Celeste.”

“Julie is a nice girl who cares about you.”

“Just stop it, OK?”

“Sure, I’ll just sit by and watch my only son ruin his life.”

Ron went out the back door and found Celeste sitting with Angel in her arms. She looked nervous and Angel looked sleepy.

His mother followed him out the door and Ron said, “I think we are going to get going. Angel needs to have a bath and she’s getting sleepy.”

‘Do what you want,” said Marjorie. “You will anyway.”

George said, “It was nice to meet you, Celeste. I hope that I see you at my birthday party.”

Marjorie looked at George like she wanted to spit on him. Ron decided that a quick exit was in order. Celeste thanked Marjorie for having her and Angel to dinner.

“I’m sure we’ll get to know each other sooner or later,” said Marjorie.

 

 

 

Chapter 21

It was a Monday night and Ron was stretched out on the floor watching TV and reading Damien the Leper for his English class. Then he saw President Kennedy’s face come on the screen. He began talking about missiles in Cuba and saying that the United States was placing a naval blockade around the island. Then he said that any attack on the United States by Cuba would be considered an attack by the Soviet Union and that we would respond by attacking the Soviet Union. Ron stared. Was the world going to end? Would he never get to grow up?

George was out working his second job as a bartender. Marjorie wasn’t home. Ron lay there listening to the President who didn’t smile once. Ron loved watching his press conferences because of the way that he joked with everyone, but he wasn’t in any mood to be joking tonight. He wondered if we could beat the Russians. He felt his anger begin to rise. He was too young to fight. He wondered if they would make an exception because of his size. He had broken Richie D’Orio’s nose. Would that make a difference?

After the president was done speaking, a commentator showed a map of Cuba and showed the places that the missiles could reach. New Jersey wasn’t on the map. Did that make a difference? Maybe New Jersey wasn’t important enough to be on a map of the United States when they showed it on TV. New York was there. So was Washington. Miami was there. Ron pushed thoughts of Miami out of his head. He had gone there with Marjorie and Rocky a long time ago and Rocky had taken him fishing. Ron felt something burning in his throat and then he vomited.

The next morning the world looked very different. There were lines outside of the church when he went to school. They said special prayers in the classroom and then Mary Salvatore said that they would be going over to the church to attend a special mass and pray for peace and for God to give President Kennedy the wisdom to do what was best. Ron stared up at the picture of Kennedy that was on the wall and wondered if the picture would be there if he was not a Catholic.

The church was warm and crowded. As the students were marched down the aisle, Ron thought that he heard someone gasp at the sight of them and then begin to cry. Then he saw that many of the women were holding tissues to their eyes.  The nuns looked serene. Ron wondered if they were anticipating heaven.

The priest, Monsignor Gerard, was in the pulpit. Before the mass began, he said, “I’m sure that Our Heavenly Father is pleased to see so many of you in His house today. I’m sure that he wished that his house was this full when people were not frightened, but in His wisdom, he knows that we are weak.” Then he turned his back on them and began to celebrate mass. Ron thought, that sure will make folks feel better.

The days wore on and the tension built. After the first rushes of panic, a sameness set in about it, almost a grim acceptance. There was a spike in the construction of fallout shelters. In school they practiced what to do in the case of an attack. The nuns assured frightened children that the best place in the world to be was in the church. And then when things seemed to be inevitable, it was over.

The United States had prevailed. Kennedy had backed down the Russians. Ron got a copy of Profiles in Courage from the library and read it. Then he read Why England Slept, although he didn’t understand much of it. Then he read The Making of the President.

When report cards came out, Ron was moved from the last seat in the last row to the last seat in the middle row. He was seated across from Barbara Infante. She smiled at him. Sometimes when they exchanged papers, they graded each other’s papers. Her penmanship was beautiful and she wrote with a light touch. Ron’s handwriting was sloppy and he wrote hard.

Marjorie was thrilled with his grades. Of the 16 graded areas, Ron had earned an “E” in nine of them. “E” stood for excellent. Mary Salvatore gave him a “G” in religion. The nun knew that Ron had earned an “E” but she just could not bring herself to give it to him. He was a smart boy and she liked him, but she certainly wasn’t going to make the mistake of trusting him. Everything else was either a “G” for good or an “S” for satisfactory. Richie was in the first seat of Ron’s row. He had gotten straight E’s.

Things were different after Ron broke his nose. Richie was angry and embarrassed, and he was sure that Ron had done it on purpose. They never talked about it and Ron would have told him that it was just a play and that he didn’t mean anything by it.

After the Cuban thing and his impressive report card, Ron’s popularity began to rise again. He learned that while he hid his love of reading in public school because he didn’t want to appear to be brainy, in Catholic school, brainy was good.

 

Chapter 22

 

Janine and Jimmy arrived for coffee and the after dinner stupor seemed broken. Ron was still in the basement and Celeste was just finishing setting the table for coffee. Jimmy kissed Celeste on the cheek and said, “So where is he? You keep him chained to your bed downstairs?”

Celeste blushed.  Janine came over and said, “Better to keep him chained than to have him chaining you.”

Mario and Joey came into the dining room and sat back down. Mario shook Jimmy’s hand and said, “Mr. Lattimore.”

Jimmy grinned, “So I hear that you are going to have a new son-in-law.”

Joey added, “Again.”

Anna tensed and put her head down. Mario just nodded. Janine said, “Well, three is a charm.”

Celeste knew that Anna had passed this information along during her morning phone calls and she was sure that it wasn’t accompanied by an endorsement.

The door to the downstairs basement opened and Ron tried to slide into the room unnoticed. That wasn’t going to happen.

“We need another chair,” said Anna.

Ron moved to get it and Anna thought in spite of herself that at least he tried to help. Celeste introduced Ron to Jimmy and Janine.

Jimmy smiled and stick out a large hard hand. It engulfed Ron’s hand but he tried his best for a manly shake.

“Good to meet you,” said Ron figuring a smile at Janine would cover his response to go along with the handshake.

“So,” said Jimmy, “you’re a football coach.”

“I’m just an assistant, said Ron. “This will be my second year.”

“Good money?” said Jimmy laughing.

Ron flushed. The money was awful. He calculated it last year to work out to be about fifty cents an hour.  Ron laughed. “Not so much for the money. But it’s good to work with the kids that way.”

Jimmy didn’t answer. It had been a joke and Ron had given his a straight answer. Jimmy hoped that Ron had a sense of humor. He was going to need it in this house.

Neither Mario nor Joey understood why someone would work when the money wasn’t any good and the hours were long. But he was a teacher and they both had a mistrust of teachers. It was true that Jimmy was a teacher, but he taught drivers education and gym. That was different and Jimmy was family. He liked to work with his hands.

The last thing in the world that Ron wanted was a hot cup of coffee. He didn’t drink coffee after dinner. They had consumed too much food. He wished that he could go for a long walk and maybe even a run, but that was out of the question. Angel took his hand and Ron lifted her up onto his knee after he sat.

 

Chapter 23

Ron was invited to his first party. It was at Barbara Infante’s house. He took a very long and hot shower. He combed his hair about six times. He used some of George’s aftershave. He made sure that there was copious amounts of deodorant under his arms. He selected a white on white high roll and used gold colored cuff links with it. He slid on a pair of black mohair and silk slacks that had a knife sharp crease. His socks were thin and almost see through except for the black ribs that Ron made sure were very straight as they slid up over his ankles. He tied his feather-tipped shoes tightly and made sure that their shine was high gloss. Then he slipped on his three quarter length black leather jacket from Cooper leather, where his mother had taken him when he said that he needed to have one.

He wanted to slip on his sunglasses but it was night and George said that he was trying to look like a wise guy when he wore them. Marjorie said, “You look very nice,” when he came out of his room. Ron had the sunglasses safely tucked away in his inside pocket. “Do you have money?” she asked.

“I have a few dollars,” said Ron. “I don’t think that I’ll need any.”

“Where is this party?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he lied.

“How can you be going to a party and not know where it is?” said Marjorie.

Ron lied again. “I’m meeting Richie and some of the other guys up at the school. They know where she lives.”

It had been a pointless lie and Ron knew that it probably was, but the thought of her driving over there if he was late, or calling her house if she felt like it, was reason enough to keep her in the dark.

“Stay out of trouble,” said George.

“He isn’t going to get into any trouble!” snapped Marjorie. “He’s going to a party.” Then a thought hit her. “What is this girl’s name?”

“Barbara.”

“Does she have a last name?”

“Infante.”

“I know a Tony Infante from 4^th Street,” said George.

Ron thought, who cares?

“Are her parents going to be at home?” said Marjorie.

“I don’t know,” said Ron. “I’m sure that they will be.” And then he was moving towards the door. He needed to get out of there. He slid on his shades as he bounced down the stairs. The evening air felt like freedom.

 

Chapter 24

Later that night Ron and Celeste lay in bed talking. They had mastered the art of having quiet sex and Angel was two floors away in her bedroom. Celeste had an intercom set up so that she could respond if Angel woke up.

They were facing each other and searching each other’s faces as they spoke.

“Life is going to change a lot in a couple of weeks,” said Ron.

Celeste felt a quiver in her stomach. “Because of work?”

“Yes, and coaching and then tutoring. I get very busy and we have to plan for it.”

“Will I ever see you?”

“Every day,” Ron blurted. “As long as we can find a way.”

“At least we’ll be able to talk on the phone, won’t we?’

“Every night,” said Ron. “I know this is going to sound screwy, but I don’t think that I could manage to get to sleep if I hadn’t spoken to you.”

Celeste felt her heart swell. She decided that she needed a job and maybe needed to go back to school. She was going to have to do something to work towards their goals and keep from sitting by the phone or listening for his squeaks.

Ron drove home at about two am. He was smiling and at the same time he was worried. Her family didn’t like him. His family wasn’t ready for her. Did they have any chance that things would work out for them?  What about Angel? This wasn’t like having a girlfriend or even someone with whom he lived. This was like acquiring an instant family, most of which didn’t like him. It confused him.

When he got home, the phone was ringing. It was Celeste calling to say good night. Ron was tempted to tell her about the doubts that he was having but decided that it was a conversation that was better had in person.

 

Chapter 25

The party bored Ron and he wondered if there was someplace else that he wanted to be. The girls were pretty and were wearing makeup. Some had their hair teased up. Ron danced with Barbara Infante. It was a slow dance and he could feel the buds of her breasts pressing against him and the motion of her hips pressing against him and he knew it was going to happen and it did. He was sticking out against her. He was sure that she could feel it. He blushed with embarrassment.

When the dance ended he gulped down a paper cup’s worth of fruit punch. It reminded him of the “bug juice” that they served on his one disastrous trip to camp. They had been on a hike and his asthma had kicked in and he had to be taken to the infirmary and the kids nicknamed him “wheezer” because of the sounds that came out of him when he tried to breathe. Marjorie and Rocky had come for him the next day, and he was able to sneak into his cabin while the other kids were at the lake. He was able to pack his things and slip out and never see any of them again.

It wasn’t like that here. If you made a fool of yourself, it followed you forever. He was pretty sure that his erection had gone unnoticed. Barbara Infante was whispering to her friend Carol that she had felt his thing get hard while they were dancing. Ron heard the girls giggle and his entire body stiffened.

He and Richie and Phillip and Dennis walked together after the party. They were talking about how boring it was and how they hated having adults watch them like they were swimming in a fishbowl.

Ron blurted, “Do you think Barbara likes me?”

When he heard the laughter from his friends he knew that he had done one of those stupid things that just wasn’t going to go away.

“So, you’re in love with Barbara Infante,” said Richie.

“No,” said Ron.

“Why did you ask that?” said Phillip.

Ron stammered. He was glad that it was dark and they couldn’t see the way that he was blushing. “I don’t know.”

They laughed again. This was just getting worse.

“Want me to ask her if she likes you?” said Dennis.

“Maybe we should all ask her,” said Richie.

When Ron got home, his mother said, “Ronald you are eleven years old.”

“I know,” said Ron.

“Ten-thirty is far too late to be coming home for an eleven year old boy.”

“It’s because I have to walk so much further than the other kids do,” said Ron.

“Then plan ahead,” said George. He had been drinking. Ron could tell from the red bloat of his face and the smell of beer. His father told him that fools got drunk. Ron thought, right again Dad.

Ron didn’t answer. He wasn’t going to give George the satisfaction of answering him.

“Did you have a good time?” said Marjorie.

“Up until now,” snapped Ron before he thought about it.

“What this kid needs is a good beating,” said George.

Ron snapped again. It was like his mouth was no longer attached to his brain. “Not from you.”

George got up. Marjorie screamed, “George don’t.”

“Go ahead,” said Ron. “I’ll tell my father.”

“You think I’m afraid of Harry Tuck?”

“Say it to his face,” said Ron.

Marjorie began to cry.