‘Get dressed. Whatever you do, Simpleton, don’t hang around the house looking at your belly button, watching soaps. That pink nitey you’re wearing should have had its last washing a month ago. Come on, Bonnie. I won’t look. Take it off, stomp on it, pick it up with your finger tips and dump it in the waste basket.’ My younger sister is paying no attention to me at all. I don’t blame her either. She’s heard this plea, this order, many times.
From the middle drawer of the dining room server I remove her Writing Book, put it and five new shiny pens of bright colors on the kitchen table. She grunts like a pig and kicks a table leg. ‘Get off my back, Louise. If I had something to write about, I’d write!’ With that she opens the notebook, rips out a page and with the red pen scribbles, ‘Go to hell, Louise!’ I rebut quickly, ‘I’m already there, Sister. You are destroying yourself, me and my family. ‘ Silence from both of us. Only I make a move, push open the screen door and revel when it bangs hard, reverberates thru my knees. I go for a long walk, contemplating what to do next.
‘Bonnie, Bonnie, where are you?’ I go room to room and don’t see her. Then I blink and my eyes light up like the ferris wheel on a hot July nite. The pens and Writing Book are gone. ‘Bonnie, where are you?’ Her silent answer is lying on the living room floor. The pink nite gown is torn to bits. I fly to the sun, to heaven when I see her thru the kitchen window, sitting in our small gazebo. She is wearing sun glasses and seems totally engrossed in what her pen is telling her to put on paper. It is impossible to restrain myself so I try to casually go past her, give her back a love touch and head back to the house.
Bonnie stops me, hands me her writing. I hand it to you:
‘Grandma’s sour Concord grapes are in season. The vines cover the lattice Grandpa had made as a gift to his second wife, Grandma. The grapes intertwine from the alley to the kitchen door, the door that leads to the smelly busy house. Grapes drop to the ground and get squished by Grandpa and his helpers, Moe and Johnny L. When nobody is around I squish more grapes and slide on them, pretending I’m Sonia Henie ice skating. Moe catches me and warns me to stop because I might fall and break a leg. He goes inside and tattles on me to Grandpa. Out comes Grandpa, carrying a big, heavy broom that has seen better days and makes me sweep the mooshy grapes onto a big piece of cardboard and dump the whole mess into the garbage. He isn’t thru with me yet. The long hose is pulled from under the porch and I become custodian, having to squirt the pathway clean. Thinking I’m going to fix him, I aim the cold water at him and he rages., comes tearing at me and wrestles me for its ownership. We both drip, both laugh and hug. Darn if he doesn’t look like a fat drowning Santa Claus. Grandpa lifts me up on his shoulders and parades me into the house where he says we can change clothes in the cellar.
Kookie, Grandma’s white Persian cat looks at us. Her yellow eye sees Grandpa and the blue one sees me. ‘Shoo, Kookie, Shoo. Move. I’m dripping all over Grandma’s floor. Move.’ Instead she nestles against my leg, rubs that part of me dry. White fur sticks to my shoes.
Grandpa is fast. He is dressed in tan pants with a wide belt that has a fancy silver buckle. I like his blue shirt and dark blue tie, don’t care if he’s fat, I love my Grandpa. There is a lot of noise, men yelling. They are breaking down the kitchen door. Their footsteps rush to the second floor, through the first and are coming down the cellar. A booming voice calls out, ‘Daniels, be smart. Don’t move. I have ten men here and we are going to get you!’ I get a soft pat on my head, a kiss and directions, ‘Stay quiet.’ With his hands over his head Grandpa walks slowly up the stairs. Moe yells down, Mr. Daniels, keep your trap shut.’
There is whispering in the kitchen. A tall, tall man with a big, big gun brings Grandpa back down the cellar. He stands near the oil tank and lets my grandpa come to me, hold me, tell me goodbye. ‘Be a good girl, Sweetheart. I love you. Grandma will take care of you. From his pants pocket he takes out a five dollar bill and a handful of quarters. The tall man watches us both closely, motions for me to move to the side, puts the gun in Grandpa’s back and tells him to get goin’. Grandpa causes no trouble.
I never see him again. Grandma takes my five dollar bill but lets me keep the quarters. They go in my Kookie bank where they stay forever with memories of my grandpa.
Bonnie smiles, hands me her story and I smile with her.
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