floor, foaming at the mouth.”
“I don’t believe you,” Lorena said.
“Some people think he’s dangerous. I’m the only one brave enough to go near him, when he gets that way.”
“I don’t believe a word of it,” Lorena said.
She twisted around to the head of Cody’s bed and lifted a corner of the window shade. “I see your mother coming,” she said.
“What? Where?”
She turned and flashed him a grin. One of her front teeth was chipped, which made her look unstable, lacking in self-control. “I was teasing,” she said.
“Oh.”
“You ought to’ve seen your face. Ha! I haven’t even met your mother. How would I know if she was coming?”
“You must have met her,” Cody said. “She’s a cashier now at Sweeney Brothers Grocery.
Folks around this neighborhood cal her the Sweeney Meanie.”
“Wel , we do our shopping at Esmond’s.”
“So would I,” said Cody.
“How come she works? Where’s your father?”
“Missing in action,” he told her.
“Oops, sorry.”
He gave a casual wave of his hand and took a swal ow of beer. “She runs the cash register,” he said. “Look in Sweeney’s window, next time you go past. You’l know her right off. Walk in and say, ‘Ma’am, this soup can’s dented.
Can I have a reduction?”’ “Soup’s soup,” she’l say.
“Ful price, please.”
“Oh, one of those,” Lorena said.
“Tight little bun on the back of her head. Mouth like it’s holding straight pins. Anybody dawdles, tries to pass the time of day, she’l say, ‘Move along, please. Please move along.” his He was smiling at Lorena as he spoke, but inside he felt a sudden pang. He pictured his mother at the register, with that anxious line like a strand of hair or a faint, fragile dressmaker’s seam running across her forehead.
Cody took every blanket and sheet from Ezra’s bed and removed the pil ow and the mattress. Underneath were four wooden slats, laid across the frame. He lifted them out and stored them in the wardrobe. With great care, he set the mattress back on the frame.
He drew a breath and waited. The mattress held. He replaced the bedclothes and he puffed the pil ow and laid it delicately at the head. He lugged a pile of magazines from their hiding place in his bureau, opened them, and scattered them on the floor. Then he turned off the light and went to his own bed, across the room.
Ezra padded in barefoot, eating a sandwich.
He wore pajama bottoms with a trailing drawstring. “Oh, me,” he said, and he sank into bed. There was a crash. The floor shook, and their mother shrieked and came pounding up the stairs. When she turned on the light, Cody raised his head and stared at her with a sleepy, befuddled expression. She had a hand pressed to her heart. She was taking in gulps of air. Jenny shivered behind her, hugging a worn stuffed rabbit. “Good Lord preserve us,” their mother said.
Ezra looked like someone in a bathtub ful of cloth. He was having trouble disentangling himself from his sheets.
One hand, upraised, stil clutched the half-eaten sandwich.
“Ezra, honey,” Pearl said, but then she said, “Why, Ezra.” She was looking at the magazines. They were opened to pictures of women in nightgowns, in bathing suits, in garter belts and black lace brassieres, in bath towels, in useless wisps of transparent drapery, or in nothing whatsoever.
“Ezra Tul !” she said.
Ezra worked his way up to peer over the edge of his bed frame.
“Truly, Ezra, I never suspected that you would be such a person,” she told him. Then she turned and left the room, taking Jenny with her.
Ezra emerged from his bed, flew through the air, and landed on Cody. He grabbed a handful of hair and started shaking Cody’s head. Al Cody could say was, “Mmf! Mmf!” because he didn’t want their mother to hear. Final y he managed to bite Ezra’s knee and Ezra rol ed off, panting and sobbing. He must have knocked into something at some earlier point, because his
“I don’t believe you,” Lorena said.
“Some people think he’s dangerous. I’m the only one brave enough to go near him, when he gets that way.”
“I don’t believe a word of it,” Lorena said.
She twisted around to the head of Cody’s bed and lifted a corner of the window shade. “I see your mother coming,” she said.
“What? Where?”
She turned and flashed him a grin. One of her front teeth was chipped, which made her look unstable, lacking in self-control. “I was teasing,” she said.
“Oh.”
“You ought to’ve seen your face. Ha! I haven’t even met your mother. How would I know if she was coming?”
“You must have met her,” Cody said. “She’s a cashier now at Sweeney Brothers Grocery.
Folks around this neighborhood cal her the Sweeney Meanie.”
“Wel , we do our shopping at Esmond’s.”
“So would I,” said Cody.
“How come she works? Where’s your father?”
“Missing in action,” he told her.
“Oops, sorry.”
He gave a casual wave of his hand and took a swal ow of beer. “She runs the cash register,” he said. “Look in Sweeney’s window, next time you go past. You’l know her right off. Walk in and say, ‘Ma’am, this soup can’s dented.
Can I have a reduction?”’ “Soup’s soup,” she’l say.
“Ful price, please.”
“Oh, one of those,” Lorena said.
“Tight little bun on the back of her head. Mouth like it’s holding straight pins. Anybody dawdles, tries to pass the time of day, she’l say, ‘Move along, please. Please move along.” his He was smiling at Lorena as he spoke, but inside he felt a sudden pang. He pictured his mother at the register, with that anxious line like a strand of hair or a faint, fragile dressmaker’s seam running across her forehead.
Cody took every blanket and sheet from Ezra’s bed and removed the pil ow and the mattress. Underneath were four wooden slats, laid across the frame. He lifted them out and stored them in the wardrobe. With great care, he set the mattress back on the frame.
He drew a breath and waited. The mattress held. He replaced the bedclothes and he puffed the pil ow and laid it delicately at the head. He lugged a pile of magazines from their hiding place in his bureau, opened them, and scattered them on the floor. Then he turned off the light and went to his own bed, across the room.
Ezra padded in barefoot, eating a sandwich.
He wore pajama bottoms with a trailing drawstring. “Oh, me,” he said, and he sank into bed. There was a crash. The floor shook, and their mother shrieked and came pounding up the stairs. When she turned on the light, Cody raised his head and stared at her with a sleepy, befuddled expression. She had a hand pressed to her heart. She was taking in gulps of air. Jenny shivered behind her, hugging a worn stuffed rabbit. “Good Lord preserve us,” their mother said.
Ezra looked like someone in a bathtub ful of cloth. He was having trouble disentangling himself from his sheets.
One hand, upraised, stil clutched the half-eaten sandwich.
“Ezra, honey,” Pearl said, but then she said, “Why, Ezra.” She was looking at the magazines. They were opened to pictures of women in nightgowns, in bathing suits, in garter belts and black lace brassieres, in bath towels, in useless wisps of transparent drapery, or in nothing whatsoever.
“Ezra Tul !” she said.
Ezra worked his way up to peer over the edge of his bed frame.
“Truly, Ezra, I never suspected that you would be such a person,” she told him. Then she turned and left the room, taking Jenny with her.
Ezra emerged from his bed, flew through the air, and landed on Cody. He grabbed a handful of hair and started shaking Cody’s head. Al Cody could say was, “Mmf! Mmf!” because he didn’t want their mother to hear. Final y he managed to bite Ezra’s knee and Ezra rol ed off, panting and sobbing. He must have knocked into something at some earlier point, because his
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