See the difference? I do. Sigh.
The other interesting thing that happened concerns Carl Ray. At dinner, in the midst of all the usual pass-the-potatoes chatter, Maggie says, “Oh, by the way, Carl Ray, you had a phone call today.”
Everyone stopped chewing because no one could imagine who would call Carl Ray. He’s received a whole lot of letters from Aunt Radene, but not one single phone call.
Maggie said, “I wrote down the message,” and from the kitchen she retrieved a piece of paper that she didn’t give to Carl Ray. You could tell she wanted everyone to hear this. “It was a lady…”
Everyone about choked.
“…who is the secretary of a Mr. Biggers.” She stopped to take a bite of her beans. She chewed awhile. Carl Ray had stopped eating.
“And this lady, this secretary of Mr. Biggers’s, wanted to know if you could come in and see Mr. Biggers…” and she took another bite of beans and chewed awhile. Meanwhile, we’re all waiting.
“…at four o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Apparently…” and she reached over for the jug of milk and poured herself a glass, “…this Mr. Biggers is a lawyer.”
Carl Ray’s mouth dropped open, revealing some unchewed potatoes.
“So you have this appointment at four tomorrow afternoon, and if you can’t make it, you’re supposed to call back. The number’s right here at the bottom,” and she handed the paper to Dennis, who handed it to Dougie, who handed it to Carl Ray, who just stared at it.
Dad said, “Carl Ray, do you have any idea what this is about?”
Carl Ray said, “Nope.”
Dad looked at Mom, so she said, “Have you ever met this Mr. Biggers?”
Carl Ray said, “Nope.”
Mom looked at Dad, so he said, “Hmmm. Are you sure you have no idea what this is about?”
Carl Ray said, “Nope.”
Dad said, “Does that mean…” but then he stopped.
So everyone went on eating, except for Carl Ray, who sat there staring at this piece of paper. He didn’t finish his dinner, which is a real sign that something must be wrong, because we all know what a gigantic appetite Carl Ray has.
After dinner, I heard Dad asking Carl Ray a bunch more questions. He asked him if this had anything to do with a girl (“Nope”) or if Carl Ray was in any kind of trouble (“Nope”) or if he owed anyone any money (“Nope”) or if he’d been in any fights (“Nope”) or stolen anything (“Nope”). Finally, Dad said he would leave work early tomorrow and take Carl Ray over to Mr. Biggers’s office if Carl Ray wanted him to. Carl Ray said, “Okay.”
I wonder what Carl Ray did that he’s not telling anyone.
Book Five of the Odyssey is all about Odysseus trying to get away from Calypso and being thrashed about on his raft until the goddesses help him. Lord.
I asked my mom tonight if I was adopted and she about died laughing. “Whatever made you ask that?” she said (when she finally stopped laughing about ten hours later). “No, you are not adopted.”
I was a little disappointed when she said that, and then I got to thinking that maybe she wouldn’t want to tell me the truth, so maybe I am adopted, but I’ll never really know unless she plans to tell me the truth when I’m sixteen. Actually, I’ve often suspected that I am adopted. Maybe Alex and I have the same parents! Oh, well, maybe that wouldn’t be so good after all.
Boy, the gods are sure intervening in Carl Ray’s life! I swear, Athene must have come down and taken pity on the poor creature. But before I tell about Carl Ray, I’ll tell about Beth Ann as ole black-fingered night (grandfather of day) (har har har) (thanks, O Muse) creeps over the sky.
I took Tommy and Dougie for a walk today and we stopped at Beth Ann’s. Even though she didn’t seem real thrilled to see two little kids with me, she gave them some Coke and potato chips and we all went out into her backyard. While Tommy and Dougie climbed the apple tree, she and I actually talked for a change. I mean, it’s been a while.
When I asked her about Derek, she acted as if they had been married for about a hundred years. She was so matter-of-fact about it all.
“Oh yes,” she said, “we’re still going out. He’s over here all the time. My parents are VERY fond of him. Have you ever smelled Canoe? That’s the kind of aftershave he wears. It’s DI-VIIIIINE.” (There she goes again.) “Judy says that’s what all the college guys wear. I’m going to buy him some more for his birthday—that’s next week. We’re going out to dinner first—on his birthday, that is—and then back to his house for a little get-together” (get-together??) “with his parents and grandparents. They’re such a nice family. I think I’ve met just about everyone in his family: his parents—they asked me to call them Betty and Bill—his brother, Gregory, of course—that’s Judy’s boyfriend—his grandparents—they asked me to call them Nonna and Poppa—his aunt Jean and uncle Roy; his aunt Catherine and uncle Bob. I think that’s about it. Oh, and his best friend, whose name is Jerry—and Jerry’s girlfriend, Molly. We’ve doubled with them a few times. Not too many times though, because Derek doesn’t really like Molly. She talks so much.”
Molly talks so much??? Have you ever heard anyone go on like Beth Ann does? How does she think of all those things to say? I am interested in what Beth Ann does, but really, should I be expected to care what Derek’s grandparents want her to call them? Or what Derek’s best friend’s girlfriend’s name is???
But I did pretend to be interested. You have to suffer through a few dozen of those things with Beth Ann in the hopes that she’ll finally get to something meaty. I had to prompt her a little.
“So,” I tried, “what do you and Derek do when you go out?”
“Oh, lots of things. We go to the movies and sometimes for a hamburger and—”
“You already told me all that. I meant what do you do, like, afterward?”
She gave me one of her funny smiles that meant “Oh, I get it,” and then she looked around to see if Dougie and Tommy were near enough to hear. They weren’t. She said, “Well—it is sort of personal….”
“Beth Ann Bartels,” I said, “I am your best friend, or at least I thought I was, and if you can’t tell me…” I put on this real hurt look.
“Well—it’s just that Derek wouldn’t like it if I talked about Us like that,” and she glanced at me, but I was still doing my hurt look, so she said, “but I know I can trust you.”
“Well, I hope so!”
“Okay, then, but promise…”
“I promise! Geez, what do I have to do, swear on a Bible?”
“Okay, okay, don’t get upset. Let’s see. We talk a lot.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Well, we do. He’s a very interesting person, you know. He tells me all kinds of things, like about…”
“Beth Ann!”
“Right. You don’t want to know about our conversations—you just want to know all the sordid details.”
If anyone else had said this, I probably would have been mad, but she was being so ridiculous and of course I wanted to know all the “sordid” details, so I just fell over laughing and then she fell over laughing and we were finally getting back to being good friends. Or so I thought.