Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Daddy Part II Local....

“You better tell you father to lay off. He ain’t got no authority anyway!”

I looked at Jimmy Flynn in stark terror. Though we were only around thirteen he was six feet tall just like his father and two older sisters.

He was especially intimidating because he was the only boy in the family much to his mother’s shame and father’s chagrin; however, that meant that he was next in line.

I know that my mouth was open but I did not know what to say. We were in front of the library. I had just finished reading Leon Uris’ 1958 bestseller, Exodus and still had tears in my eyes.

It was the longest book I had ever read and my sister was trying to get my mother to make me report the story to her every day because my sister wouldn’t believe that I was actually reading it.

“What? What are you talking about Jimmy?” I said in genuine confusion.

“You know, you know,” he said as he flared his hand in front of my face in a Zorro-like fashion that scared me silly. The Flynn’s ‘were known’, a phrase used by my mother to indicate something that was off the beam, but I was not allowed to ask any more questions. “There are things better left unsaid.”

Jimmy walked away yelling at me at the top of his lungs.“If you don’t know you’re the only god damn idiot in the neighborhood who doesn’t!” Then he suddenly turned around, rushed at me and was in my face. He lowered his voice, stopped in his tracks, his body leaning into mine, looked around, and in a hiss said, “Liar!” while his long finger was pointing ominously in my face and then slowly, deliberately to the huge signpost that jutted out of the back side of the library indicating the location of the 47th Police Precinct.

I looked around and where there had been a bunch of kids on the library steps and a bunch on the two opposite corners, there was no one.

I was shivering. I started to walk home. I was still suffering the impact of reading the story in Exodus as well as suffering the loss of coming to the end of the 600-page book. I had used it to reward myself with reading a chapter for doing things that I didn’t want to do like math homework, going to singing lessons and going to Sunday dinner with my Grandma and her husband.

I started to trot when I realized that no one was on the street. It was getting dark. Jimmy was Irish. He had cousins all over the place. In addition, the girls were just as dangerous as the boys were. I had almost a mile to go before I got home.

I would usually go along the family streets where I could play with the dogs and visit my cousin Frankie’s rabbit but somehow I figured I would be safer walking up to the avenue where there were people shopping.

However, I did not doubt that Jimmy was right. My family always kept things from me. They had kept my sister's very formal sweet-sixteen birthday party from me. Apparently, the entire neighborhood knew about it. I found out the afternoon of the party when a girlfriend asked me if I was excited about the party and I said, “What party?” and went home to find a dress waiting for me hanging on the closet door. “Oh, well, we couldn’t let the cat out of the bag now could we?” Said Mom.

If my mother wouldn’t tell me what Jimmy was talking about I was going to go on the longest hunger strike ever!

I was skinny. I didn’t like to eat anything except sweets.

I ran the last block. It was past 5:30 so I knew that my father would beat me home.

I caught up with Daddy at the top of the hill near our house. I ran to his side.

“The book.” he said without turning or saying hello.

“Yeah, I’ll never forget it. I cried in the library and all the kids made fun of me but I don’t care because they always make fun of me when I sing in school anyway.”

“Um.”

I knew better than to say anything else. It was time for spaghetti and beer. I was busting a gut!

All evening I was trying to figure out to whom I should talk about Jimmy. I really knew that I couldn’t ask Mom. “Some things are best left unsaid!”I couldn’t talk to my sister because I hated her and she hated me more. My Grandma was now married to a man who looked like Frankenstein. They lived upstairs but I never wanted to see them again. Anyway, I figured since the whole deal had to do with my father I would have to talk to him but I didn’t know when or how.

I saw Jimmy in school every day and he glared at me with bullets in his eyes. The fact that he was wearing the St. Mary's school uniform like me didn’t matter. We were both in the eighth grade-we were adults soon to graduate. For the whole week, I volunteered to help Sister St. Mary Elizabeth so I wouldn’t have to eat in the lunchroom or go to the schoolyard for recreation.

I knew that I was Jimmy's prey.

My girlfriends laughed at me calling me a brown nose. Yet, I was safe and Sister St. Mary Elizabeth had goodies left over from all the holidays, cookies in tin cans, wrapped chocolates and soda. I helped her alphabetize loads of junk. I never saw so many papers and folders in my life. My gut told me that she was being punished for something. Why else would she be stuck with such crap to do?

All I knew was that I had to be with somebody at all times because I knew Jimmy could find me, anywhere, any time!

Part III tomorrow