Here goes: When Aunt Radene first told Carl Ray that Uncle Carl Joe was not his real father, Carl Ray was really mad. He thought she should have told him sooner. He made her tell him who it really was, and she said it was a man named Charlie Furtz.
Aunt Radene and Mr. Furtz had been dating for a year when they went to a New Year’s Eve party in Easton. That’s the party my parents talk about, where Uncle Carl Joe and Aunt Radene fell in love “at first sight.” Aunt Radene stopped dating Mr. Furtz and started seeing Uncle Carl Joe and right away they knew they were going to get married. Then Aunt Radene discovered she was pregnant and it was Mr. Furtz’s baby. (Does this sound like a soap opera or what?) But Uncle Carl Joe said it didn’t matter to him. So they got married right away and nobody ever knew that Carl Ray was anybody’s baby but their very own.
Then, about six months ago, Aunt Radene read an article in a magazine that said you should always tell children if they were adopted, that they had a right to know. Uncle Carl Joe didn’t think she should tell Carl Ray because he wasn’t exactly adopted. Aunt Radene was his real mother, after all. And Uncle Carl Joe said, “What is a father anyway? Isn’t it someone who raises a child as his own?” But Aunt Radene worried and worried and finally she told Carl Ray.
Are you following this?
Anyway, she could not have known Carl Ray would go all berserk on her, and that he would insist on knowing who his real father was and where he lived. As soon as Aunt Radene told him it was Charlie Furtz and he lived in Easton (at least she thought he still lived there), Carl Ray said he was going to go find him and no one could stop him. Uncle Carl Joe got mad. That’s when Aunt Radene wrote to my parents asking if Carl Ray could come up here and stay with us awhile.
“God!” I said. “Did you know Mr. Furtz lived right across the street from us?”
Carl Ray said no. He had looked in the phone book under Furtz and there was one Charles Furtz, who lived on the other side of Easton. Carl Ray went to that address, but the lady living there said the Furtzes had moved to a bigger house. She wasn’t sure where this bigger house was. He was all depressed, but that very night he came outside when Dennis and I were sitting on the curb, and he heard us say the name Furtz and he couldn’t believe it. He decided it was fate.
The next day he went to the hardware store and he told Mr. Furtz who he was, and that he was Mr. Furtz’s son.
“God!” I said. “What’d he say? Was he mad? Did he believe you? God!”
“He just looked at me a long time and asked me when my birthday was and he thought awhile and said that well, I did look like him a little bit. He wanted to call my mother, but when I said she didn’t have a phone, he said he would write to her. Then he offered me a job—and on the first day of work, he gave me the ring.”
“It was Mr. Furtz’s ring?” That’s when I realized that Mr. Furtz (Charlie), Uncle Carl Joe, and Carl Ray all have the same initials: C.F.
Carl Ray nodded. “I didn’t know this then, but my mother had given him that ring a long time ago. That day he went to the doctor, and then to the hospital, and a few days later…” Carl Ray started crying again.
It was awful. I was crying too.
Later, Carl Ray said that he only just learned from Mr. Biggers that when Mr. Furtz heard that he had to go into the hospital, he was afraid that he was going to die. He had a premonition. So he contacted Mr. Biggers.
“The money! The college education! That was from Mr. Furtz?”
Boy, have I been stupid. I should have guessed this a long time ago. I’ve been so wrapped up in Alex Cheevey that I didn’t see anything right in front of my nose.
Carl Ray said that yes, it was all from Mr. Furtz, although Mr. Biggers didn’t tell him that at the time. Carl Ray didn’t know that for sure until he went home and told Aunt Radene everything. She was very upset about Mr. Furtz dying. She wished Carl Ray had told her that sooner. He felt real bad about that, I could tell. But Aunt Radene said that would explain the letter she got from Mr. Furtz, saying he wanted to leave something for Carl Ray, and she had written back saying only “You don’t have to.” But apparently Mr. Furtz didn’t get that letter. He was dead already. Mrs. Furtz got it and she didn’t understand it.
When we got back from West Virginia, Carl Ray went to Mr. Biggers again, and he said he needed to know if it was Mr. Furtz who gave him the money, and Mr. Biggers said he would have to check if he could divulge the name. That’s who called Carl Ray on Sunday. Mr. Biggers. And he said, yes, it was Mr. Furtz who had left Carl Ray the money and all.
How am I doing? Like I said, this took Carl Ray hours to spit out.
Sometime in there I asked Carl Ray if he had told Mrs. Furtz any of this, and he said that yes, he told her today.
“Well, God,” I said. “Was she mad? I bet she was really mad. Wasn’t she? She didn’t even know that you were Mr. Furtz’s son?”
He said, “Nope. She didn’t know. But I think she was a little relieved.”
“Relieved?”
“She said odd things had been happening. First, right after Mr. Furtz died, a letter arrived for him that said, ‘Dear Charlie, You don’t have to. Sincerely, Radene.’ Mrs. Furtz thought he had been seeing some other woman. Then I gave her the ring, and she knew it was Mr. Furtz’s. He had always kept it in this little box on his dresser, and he told her it was from an old girlfriend. He never wore it. She couldn’t figure out how I got it. She thought I stole it. Can you imagine that?”
“Didn’t she want to know why Mr. Furtz never told her about you?”
“When I told her that Mr. Furtz only just found out himself—that I was his son—right before he went in the hospital, she said that she knew he would have told her soon enough. And when I got ready to leave, she said, ‘I’m just glad to know that there’s a little more of Charlie left in the world now that he’s gone.’”
Can you imagine that? It made me cry.
So. We sat there a long time. I felt real bad for Carl Ray. Why did Mr. Furtz have to die right after Carl Ray found him? Finally, Carl Ray started the car again, and when we pulled into Alex’s driveway, I asked him where he was going, all dressed up. Carl Ray said, “To the cemetery. I want to talk to my—uh, my father.”
Well, I started bawling like mad, and Carl Ray had to pat me on the shoulder. Then I asked him if he wanted me to come with him, but he said, “Nope.”
When Alex answered the door, he just stood there. He looked at me as if he’d never seen me before.
I thought I was going to die. Oh boy, I thought. He doesn’t like me anymore. Then I thought, I look terrible from all this crying and he’s thinking I’m uglier than he remembered. Then I thought, He’s going to tell me it’s all over. We’re finished.
He seemed so nervous. I thought, Sure, he ought to be nervous. He’s going to tell me it’s all over and maybe he thinks I’ll punch him or something.
“Come on in,” he said.
On the antique side of the room was Mrs. Cheevey, and on the modern side was Mr. Cheevey. When they saw us, they jumped up.
“So who’s going to start?” Mrs. Cheevey said.
We looked at her. Start what?
Then Mrs. Cheevey said, “Okay, okay, okay. Let’s start with Mary Kay. Oooh! A rhyme: Okay, Mary Kay. Ha, ha, ha.”
“It’s Mary Lou,” Alex said.