Outside- lookin' in

WHEN THE LIVIN' IS EASY

 

Sherry's birthday is on Thanksgiving Day. Mine is on New Year's Day. She's going to be six while I am still 5 3/4, so she bosses me around a lot. Sometimes we fight and don't talk to each other for a whole day. Yesterday was one of those days. On the way to the bakery to get a fresh black bread for her mom she rang our doorbell twice so I would know who it is. I'm glad she's at the door because I am sure she is going to apologize for taking the Milky Way my mother put in my lunch bag. Before she steps in our vestibule, she waves a box of Walnettos at me. I take it and we are friends again.

 

Sherry asks nicely, 'Can we go on your garage roof and watch for the watermelon man?' I don't bother to answer and just lead the way. My mother is in the kitchen sifting flour for something and has some on her nose. I tell her and add that Sherry and I are going to wait for the watermelon man, his bowlegged son and brown boney horse. Mom warns us to stay away from the roof's edge. 'Mary and I are bringing the big trash cans up there soon and have to get them over the railing. 'Don't worry, the watermelon man will be able to reach us. Go play.'

 

I call her, 'Hurry up, Mom, the trash men are coming.' The truck makes a lot of noise and leaves more mess than it takes away. Cardboard boxes have been opened and pushed against the truck barriers so a lot more can go in than fits. It all stinks too because some neighbors (not us) put garbage in with the trash. My Mom doesn't do that. Two dirty men follow the truck, shovel up loose newspapers, old magazines, horses poop.

 

My Mom is sitting in the sun on the second floor porch. She's working a crossword puzzle. Every time she makes a word she puts her yellow pencil point in her mouth, scratches her head and tries another word. I can't read the words yet but know when Mom gets one right. She slaps her knee and smiles as if she just found ten dollars.

 

Sherry jumps up. 'He's coming!' I hear him too. 'Watah melon, Wahta melon, red to the rind. Twenty five cents.' Neighbors hurry to his wagon. His son waters the bedraggled horse and fixes his straw hat right between its ears. The horse's name is Nag, but he doesn't nag. My mother does. 'Watah melon, watah melon, twenty five cents. Four customers and my mom want their melons plugged, want a juicy taste. They act as one, nodding, yes or no. Mrs. Davis makes a sour face so the old man hands her the plug from a melon on top. Ah, she is happy and so are the others. It takes five trips up two flights of stairs for the water melon man to get each melon to the right house. Four hand him their quarters that he puts in a little leather pouch tied to his belt. The fifth one haggles with him and wants a nickel change. She doesn't get it. With a slight bow and a 'Thank you, I'll be back next Wednesday,' he tells Nag to giddyup and goes down the alley to the next street.

 

My mother gets her biggest, sharpest knife out of the kitchen cabinet, warns Sherry and I to stay back and whack, whack, she cuts off two small slices for us and puts the rest in the ice box to chill until dinner.

 

'Ma, Ma, Hymie's coming. Hurry up.' Hymie is the fruit, vegetable, fish man who's store is the alley. The fruit and vegetables go on one side of his open truck and fish on chopped ice sleep on the other. He has only one white, round-faced scale that my mother watches carefully, making sure his fingers are not on the scale and that the dial is exactly on zero. Today she buys 3 big, red, solid Maryland tomatoes, weighs them, splurges on luscious  red strawberries in little paper baskets, twenty cents a quart. 'Ill have six of those beautiful white shoe peg corn, each row even.'

 

'Hymie, Fish, fish, what have you got that was caught this morning?' My mother looks and tells him in no uncertain terms, 'these fish died yesterday, Hymie. They already smell bad.' Mrs. Baldo, I wouldn't lie to you, would I? You are my favorite customer. I swear these trout came in, still wiggling,  on the train last nite.' 'Scale them, cut in five pieces. Throw away the head.'

 

She takes a small change purse out of her apron and a little book to write in. 'How much do I owe you, Hymie?' Two dollars and 10 cents.'
She hands him two one dollar bills. He thanks her and moves on down the alley. What she spent is noted in her little book.

 

Daddy peels the corn on the back porch and finds a monster green worm in one. He picks it up with his bare fingers, puts it on Mama's crossword page, covers it, stomps down and squoosh comes out.

 

At dinner I could not eat the corn but ate everything else. For that Mama let me have an extras big piece of watermelon after she took out all the seeds. A seed would have been better than the worm, so I am happy.