GROWTH / ENLIGHTENMENT

Charlie is a bit short for his 15 years. His mother, my sister Dorothy, worries about him. Every six months the doctor tells her to stop worrying. X rays show there is still growth in his bones. ‘Give him time. Let him be.’ Dot tries, but tension runs rampant amongst her, Charlie and Mannie, Charlie’s dad. It is easy to imagine a scene. ‘Stop it, Mom! I’m not a midget or a dwarf. I’m 5' 1/4". I’m tired of this. Maybe it’s all of me you’ll ever see, but if it is ordained that way, sobeit. What will you do, toss me in the garbage can, put me in an institution? Don’t answer that, Mom. I think you might say ‘Yes.’

Dot calls me, tells me how Charlie screeches at her, condemns her for caring too much, for nagging him and she slapped him in his face. ‘Lil, come right over. Charlie flew out of the house. The last time I saw him he was running down the street on his little legs.’ ‘Dot, don’t you hear yourself? Don’t you realize you just said ‘his little legs?’ They aren’t little. They are proportioned to his body! I tell you that over and over. You are terrible. I’ll be right over.’

We drive around the neighborhood for an hour. No luck. ‘I have to get home, Sis. I left Lou a note I’d be home by 6.’ As I turn the corner to Dorothy’s house, I see Charlie. Honk, honk. He’s carrying a paper bag and walking oddly. Dot gets out of my car and runs to her son, hugs him with every ounce of strength she still has. I have no doubt she is begging for his forgiveness. A short wait and I see him hug her back.

Two evenings later Charlie calls me and asks if he can come visit. ‘Dumb question, Boy. Of course you can.’ He arrives wearing a black derby, flips it off and lets it tumble quickly down his arm, where he deftly twists his wrist, grabs the derby before it touches the ground and bows. ‘Hey, Boy, where did that hat find you? That’s a good trick. Do it again.’‘Aunt Lil, I bought it for one buck in the thrift shop. I just had to have it. I saw a straw boater too and am going back for it tomorrow. You really like my hat?’ ‘Sure do, Charlie. It must be old. Is it clean? Too bad if it isn’t. You’ve already worn it. What’s wrong with your foot? Why have you been walking so funny lately?’ He doesn’t answer, just blows me a kiss and toddles down the driveway.

True to his word, Charlie comes over with the straw hat and more. He is wearing a cream colored suit, way out of style, and a long too wide tie in a soft paisley print. He takes the boater in both hands and places it over his chest. His eyes sparkle. His mouth opens and a stranger sings for me. ‘Mimi, you funny little honey of a Mimi. Am I your guy?’I applaud and burst out laughing. ‘Charlie, where have you been hiding that voice of yours? Your mother has never mentioned it. How do you know that old song of Maurice Chevalier? Your accent, your curled lower lip is perfection. I’d know you anywhere.’ ‘I watch old movies, go to the library archives. I love those oldies and I pretend I’m as tall as Chevalier, love the girls and they love me back. Please don’t tell Mom. She’ll make fun of me and tell me ‘to grow up’. I have grown up but she won’t believe it. So long.’ My heart aches for him.

A week passes. My restraint of not telling Dot about her son’s talent is faltering. Charlie visits his one person fan club again. He stands outside my front door, a carved black crooked cane in his hand, a black baggy suit on his small frame and that black derby tilted on his head. A charcoal moustache is lopsided under his nose. And oh those shapeless high shoes, toes curled up make Charlie Charlie for me. ‘Watch me, Aunt Lil. I think I have the walk just right.’ His feet are splayed. He tilts his head as he sways he feet. ‘Lou, Lou, come see this now!’ Charlie does an encore, doffs the soiled derby one more time and comes inside to talk.

‘Aunt Lil. I am doing this on my own. Mom might not think I can, but I can. I have already entered a talent contest, a big publicity stunt for the new mall across town. There will be 11 judges, all from big Broadway shows. Look in today’s paper. There are two pages of ads. They don’t know it, but I’m showing Mom and Dad what I can do right after supper. Come on over. Act surprised. We do go over and are surprised! As Charlie sings ‘Thank Heaven for Little Girls’ Dot’s eyes tear. She glows. She claps. He repeats the song, ‘Thank Heaven for Little Boys, and Dot almost convulses.

She will realize by tomorrow that her son has grown taller, a lot taller. He has reached her, filled her heart with love and great pride. We all go to the mall.

No, Charlie didn’t win a prize, but he won his mother’s understanding and that will do him–for a while.