Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Daddy Part III Local Man.....

I was very scared of Jimmy and his threats. However, I figured that as long as I was with someone all the time and kept volunteering for the nuns, there was always something they needed or wanted, I would be safe.

I decided that I had to get my father alone. The best thing to do was follow him the next time he said he was going out, but only when my mother responded with, “I’ll take the kids to Moms.”

Oh my god! That had been happening my entire childhood and it took me until thirteen to figure it out? It was one of those, “Some things are best left unsaid,” things.

It was a Saturday afternoon. I was sitting out on the fire escape looking at the Pastorrini brothers playing ball two backyards away with their girl cousins. There were advantages to living on the second floor. I could feel something in the air. I didn’t know what. I figured I would prepare.

I made my way back from the fire escape through the window into my room. “Mom, I think if it’s ok, that I’ll go meet Marlene at Barbara’s house. They’re working on the paper and invited me but I wanted to do it myself, but I guess we could fool around and get some stuff done.”

“Oh?’ Ok, when?”

“Oh, I’ll call Marlene and see.” Better to be laid-back with Mom. You never knew.

Jackpot!

“I think I’ll go out for a while,” said Dad.

Bingo! What timing! I just knew that my father was gonna do something today.

“I’ll take the kids to Moms.” That was the cue!

“Mom I’m gonna call Marlene now.”

“You go ahead honey.” She yelled to my sister to pack up her books. My sister acquiesced. Grandma had a new, larger than life TV. It was called a console. Though she would bring her books upstairs, we all knew that she would watch the boob tube while Mom, Grandma, and my fake grandpa played cards. She was sixteen but never went out with friends because she was practicing being miserable because she intended to enter the convent the next year if she failed algebra, which we all knew would happen.

It was the gutsiest thing I had done in my life. I called Marlene and told her to pretend that I was there if anyone asked. I didn’t give her a chance to say no. I just hung up and started out the door.

“Young lady where is your book?”

“I really don’t need it Mom and Marlene has paper.”

“Oh.”

Off I went down the stairs to follow my father. My heart was in my mouth because Jimmy could appear at any time. At least I could yell for my father if I was really desperate.

This was the cagey part, following my father in the light of a summer day. I had an advantage because our blocks were slightly hilly going down so sometimes you could easily hide: duck into a drive way, something like that.

Then I almost dropped dead –what if he took the car?

I saw him ambling down the hill with the proverbial cigarette in his hand. He smoked like a chimney and often lit up one ciggy after another.

We ended up at the library! All of this for the library? Daddy spent time in the library? He stood on the corner, took a last puff, stomped it out, and proceeded to the backside of the library. I almost dropped dead when he went in the door under the large signpost that read 47th Police Precinct.

I ran to Barbara’s house and spent the rest of the afternoon managing to keep my secret even though they both threatened me with telling my mother that I had had a cigarette two weeks before. I knew that that would never happen because they had also smoked Marlene’s father’s cigarettes. After all, it was her idea. However, it was worse for me because I was a trained singer. No kidding!

I was safe for now because Barbara’s father would drive me home.

I couldn’t tie it together. Was my father in trouble like Sister St. Mary Elizabeth? Was he alphabetizing stuff because he had committed a crime? Were they letting him off the hook because he was a family man? God, he cursed a lot, smoked, drank, gambled and never went to church!

Is that why Jimmy pointed to the police precinct sign?

When I got home, I laid down in my bed. Thinking!

Daddy came home before Mom and my sister came back downstairs.

The lights were off and my door was partially opened. I heard him come in the door light a cigarette from the stove and empty the ashtray into the kitchen trash can so my mother wouldn’t yell. He walked past my door and stood for a moment and the smoke from his cigarette flew into my room like a pretty cloud. I was just about to shout “hi” when he said “nuts” real loud and then ran and picked up the phone, put it down again and said aloud, “Better go back.” I do that sometimes when I say, “Oh shit! I left my notebook home!”

I sat up in bed. He was going back? Did I dare follow him again? The moon was out. I was afraid that he might see me. However, I was afraid that Jimmy was out there loose and looking for me.

This time he raced to the precinct, he threw one cigarette into the street yet didn’t take the time to light another.

I was thinking that my mother was gonna kill me if I ever got caught and then my father was gonna kill me and then Jimmy would finish the job.

He came out so fast that I almost screamed as I hugged the corner of the building.

“Great game of checkers said a uniformed officer.” “Great game,” repeated Dad. “I always pay my debts.”

They both laughed. They laughed a lot! Then they shook hands and Dad started walking up to the avenue while I took the family house route. I just had to be sure not to let my cousin Frankie see me. I would go west and cut at 222 street then run for my life to beat him home.

Checkers?

Well, there was a sense of relief, but that night in bed, I kept thinking and thinking. So Daddy played checkers with cops? How much can you lose in checkers? He went back, for what? Why is that something not to be spoken about? I was thinking and thinking. Everyone was asleep. I was looking at the glare of the street lamp on my fire escape. The moon was very bright, and the breeze felt good. But, I couldn’t sleep so I got up to pull the curtain to hide the light when I almost dropped dead as Jimmy appeared on the fire escape, poked his head half way in my window and blew smoke in my face and hissed a "hey, hey, hey," laugh at me.

I slapped my hands over my mouth tripped backwards over my slippers, bumped into the doorway, and ran to the bathroom, sat on the cold tile floor and at thirteen years old: I wet myself.

No! This was not about checkers.

The End-tomorrow

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