Mommy and Daddy are fighting again. It scares her because her ears are listening too much. Olivia doesn’t care. She sits there only to read and doesn’t worry if Mommy falls down and breaks her crown and cries from it or is yelled at. If he talks harsh to her again she’ll shout for him to stop, don’t dare do that, don’t scream, be nice, don’t be angry and mean, everyone here will hate you in the face and not talk to you ever. He has such a bad temper, gets mad a lot, Mommy only when it’s right. Now Mommy’s resting again it seems. That’s good because she’s tired and upset and before said her legs hurt. She wishes she could read because just looking at book pictures and the outside and into other cars except when they have kids in them and dogs and cats jumping around loose, gets boring. If they don’t have rainbow sherbert there she’ll make a fuss till they have to send away for it to a store. Are they in Maine yet? Probably not because she didn’t sleep. There’ll be a big bridge he said and the color of the road will change from dark to light and there’ll be more trees and beaches to see and cars with people in bathing suits in them and the clouds will have fishes and porpoises and seals. What’s a crown if she’s not wearing one and why do they say upset and not down? One year he said “Look, a seal,” and she did but he dived and stayed there and they waited but she never saw him. Daddy said he had a big mustache and glasses and waved to them before he dived. She wanted to know how come he said the seal was a he, did he see his penis? He just sprayed water on his window or it rained when she was thinking. It looks like the drops on top are racing down. She picks one with a baby’s face to win, follows it against another she hates because it looks like a snake, but the wipers wash the drippings away before her favorite one could get to the bottom. She should have told Daddy not to before he did, but then he might have yelled at her does she want him not to see and them to get into a crash? She doesn’t. If they died because they’re in the front she doesn’t want Olivia and she to ever go to different homes.
Look at the reflection of the house in the pond. She should have told Momma about it but now it’s gone. Reflections are more beautiful than the real thing. They’re like paintings. They’re the ones that should stay, not the real thing. “Do you know what?” Olivia says. Here comes a gem, he thinks. I hope this isn’t going to be long, Denise thinks. Maybe if she doesn’t say anything. “Do I know what?” he says. “Reflections are more beautiful than the real thing.” “That’s a beautiful thought,” he says. “Where’d it come from?” “It’s not a thought; it’s what I said.” “I meant it’s a beautiful idea, observation, and don’t get so testy. But did it come out of nowhere? I’m always interested in where and how these inspirations or sudden impressions of yours come from.” “It is beautiful, dearie,” Denise says to her. “Reflections are like paintings.” Olivia says. “They’re the things that should stay, not what is real — the real things you see, I mean.” “That’s utterly amazing,” he says. “‘Reflections are like paintings; they’re the things that should stay.’ Someone should write down some of the things you say. Actually, your mother has for years, about all of us.” “I can write it down,” Olivia says. “Do you have a pen I can use, Mommy?” “Not on me this moment.” “You have one in your bag. I saw you put it there.” “I don’t want to try to reach it now. It’s near my feet and it’d be sort of a struggle, to tell you the truth.” “Then I’ll lose what I said.” “There’s always another thought or expression and I’ll remember it.” “Quick, what was it she said?” he says to Denise. “‘Reflections are like paintings. They’re more beautiful than the real thing. They’re the things that should stay, not the real.’” “‘Not what’s real’ or ‘the real thing,’” Olivia says. “Close enough. And my guess is you got it by looking at a house or tree above a little pond we passed, am I right?” “Yes, did you see me?” “I didn’t marry a dunce, did I, Olivia?” he says. “Her memory, way she figured out how you made the observation, which your daddy couldn’t.” “Mommy is not a dunce,” Eva says. “Don’t say harsh things about her.” “I said I didn’t marry one, sweetheart. Meaning she’s a nondunce — smart. And I said it affectionately. I love your mother,” and rubs the back of Denise’s head. Denise smiles at him, takes his hand and kisses it. “Oh look, they’re kissing,” Olivia says. “And the palm,” he says “that’s big stuff.” “What’s a dunce?” Eva says. They all laugh. “Don’t laugh at me.” “We did because you were funny and silly,” Olivia says. “I know you are but what am I?” “Funny and silly.” “I know you are but what am I?” “Please, not that refrain again,” he says. “Someone, save us.” “I know someone save you, Daddy, but who’ll save me?” “Hey, how could we have forgotten? — Fowler entrance to Walker Pond. Great warm-lake swimming, and I’ll blow up your tubes and you can play in the water long as you like.” “How am I going to get down there this year?” Denise says. “The car. I’ll back down it right to where the rear wheels are in the water.” “It’s too embarrassing. All the beach eyes on me as I tumble out of my seat and you run around the car to set up the walker.” “Hell with what people think.” “Easy for you but for me I’m not ready yet.” “Do they call it Walker Pond because some people walk into it with a walker?” Eva says. “Did you hear that?” he says. “Where’s she come up with them?” “I’m not going into that water,” Olivia says. “There’re leeches.” “So we’ll bring a salt shaker and go like this, shake shake shake, and the one in the thirty times we go there that might get you, will drop off. But I’ll stick by you and catch them before they get you. Then heave-ho with a stick and I’ll knock them out on land with a rock.” “That’s disgusting.” “Why? You don’t like them? —