man, she said and shook her head. Do they know who he was?
He called himself Skipper, Jake said.
How do you know?
Jake shot me a look that was a silent plea for help but before I could respond Ariel said,There’s something you guys aren’t telling me.
There were two men, Jake said in a rush and it was easy to see that he was relieved to have the truth spill from him.
Two? Ariel looked from Jake to me. Who was the other man?
Thanks to Jake the truth was already there in front of us like a puddle of puke. I saw no reason to lie anymore especially to Ariel. I said, An Indian. He was the dead man’s friend. Then I told her everything that had happened.
She listened and the pillowy blue of her eyes rested sometimes on me and sometimes on Jake and in the end she said, You guys could be in big trouble.
S-s-s-see, Jake hissed at me.
It’s okay, Jakie, she said. She patted his leg. Your secret’s safe with me. But, guys, listen to Dad. He worries about you. We all do.
Should we tell someone about the Indian? Jake asked.
Ariel thought it over. Was the Indian scary or dangerous?
He put his hand on Jake’s leg, I said.
He didn’t scare me, Jake said. I don’t think he was going to hurt us or anything.
Then I think it’s okay to keep that part a secret. Ariel stood up. But promise you won’t goof around on the tracks anymore.
Promise, Jake said.
Ariel waited for me to chime in and scowled until I gave her my word. She walked to the door where she turned back dramatically and gave a broad wave of her hand and said, I’m off to the theater. She pronounced the word as theatah. The drive-in theater, she said and finished by throwing an imaginary stole about her neck and exiting with a dramatic flourish.
My father didn’t fix hamburgers and milk shakes that night. He was called to van der Waal’s Funeral Home where the body of the dead man had been taken for disposition and where he discussed with van der Waal and the sheriff the burial of the stranger. He didn’t get home until late. In the meantime, my mother heated Campbell’s tomato soup and made grilled cheese sandwiches with Velveeta and we ate dinner and afterward watched Have Gun—Will Travel. The picture was snowy on the screen because of the poor reception in so isolated an area but Jake and I clamored to watch it every Saturday night anyway. Ariel left with some of her friends to go to the drive-in movies and my mother said, Home by midnight. Ariel kissed her sweetly on the forehead and said, Yes, mother dear. We took our Saturday night baths and went to bed before my father returned and when he came home I was still awake and I heard my parents talking in the kitchen which was directly below our bedroom.Their voices came up through the grate in the floor and it was as if they were in the same room with me. They had no idea I was privy to every conversation that took place between them in the kitchen. They spent a few minutes talking about the burial service for the dead man which my father had agreed to perform. Then they moved on to Ariel.
My father said, Is she out with Karl?
No, Mother replied. Just a bunch of her girlfriends. I told her midnight because I knew you’d worry.
When she’s away at Juilliard and I have no say in the matter she can stay out as late as she wants but when she’s with us and under our roof she’s home by midnight, he said.
You don’t have to convince me, Nathan.
She’s been different lately, he said. Have you noticed?
Different how?
I get the feeling something’s on her mind and she’s about to speak and then she doesn’t.
If something was bothering her she’d tell me, Nathan. She tells me everything.
All right, my father said.
Mother asked, When is the burial for that dead itinerant?
Mother used the word itinerant because she said it was kinder than hobo or bum , and so we’d all begun to use that term when referring to the dead man.
Monday.
Would you like me to sing?
It will be just me and Gus and van der Waal at the
He called himself Skipper, Jake said.
How do you know?
Jake shot me a look that was a silent plea for help but before I could respond Ariel said,There’s something you guys aren’t telling me.
There were two men, Jake said in a rush and it was easy to see that he was relieved to have the truth spill from him.
Two? Ariel looked from Jake to me. Who was the other man?
Thanks to Jake the truth was already there in front of us like a puddle of puke. I saw no reason to lie anymore especially to Ariel. I said, An Indian. He was the dead man’s friend. Then I told her everything that had happened.
She listened and the pillowy blue of her eyes rested sometimes on me and sometimes on Jake and in the end she said, You guys could be in big trouble.
S-s-s-see, Jake hissed at me.
It’s okay, Jakie, she said. She patted his leg. Your secret’s safe with me. But, guys, listen to Dad. He worries about you. We all do.
Should we tell someone about the Indian? Jake asked.
Ariel thought it over. Was the Indian scary or dangerous?
He put his hand on Jake’s leg, I said.
He didn’t scare me, Jake said. I don’t think he was going to hurt us or anything.
Then I think it’s okay to keep that part a secret. Ariel stood up. But promise you won’t goof around on the tracks anymore.
Promise, Jake said.
Ariel waited for me to chime in and scowled until I gave her my word. She walked to the door where she turned back dramatically and gave a broad wave of her hand and said, I’m off to the theater. She pronounced the word as theatah. The drive-in theater, she said and finished by throwing an imaginary stole about her neck and exiting with a dramatic flourish.
My father didn’t fix hamburgers and milk shakes that night. He was called to van der Waal’s Funeral Home where the body of the dead man had been taken for disposition and where he discussed with van der Waal and the sheriff the burial of the stranger. He didn’t get home until late. In the meantime, my mother heated Campbell’s tomato soup and made grilled cheese sandwiches with Velveeta and we ate dinner and afterward watched Have Gun—Will Travel. The picture was snowy on the screen because of the poor reception in so isolated an area but Jake and I clamored to watch it every Saturday night anyway. Ariel left with some of her friends to go to the drive-in movies and my mother said, Home by midnight. Ariel kissed her sweetly on the forehead and said, Yes, mother dear. We took our Saturday night baths and went to bed before my father returned and when he came home I was still awake and I heard my parents talking in the kitchen which was directly below our bedroom.Their voices came up through the grate in the floor and it was as if they were in the same room with me. They had no idea I was privy to every conversation that took place between them in the kitchen. They spent a few minutes talking about the burial service for the dead man which my father had agreed to perform. Then they moved on to Ariel.
My father said, Is she out with Karl?
No, Mother replied. Just a bunch of her girlfriends. I told her midnight because I knew you’d worry.
When she’s away at Juilliard and I have no say in the matter she can stay out as late as she wants but when she’s with us and under our roof she’s home by midnight, he said.
You don’t have to convince me, Nathan.
She’s been different lately, he said. Have you noticed?
Different how?
I get the feeling something’s on her mind and she’s about to speak and then she doesn’t.
If something was bothering her she’d tell me, Nathan. She tells me everything.
All right, my father said.
Mother asked, When is the burial for that dead itinerant?
Mother used the word itinerant because she said it was kinder than hobo or bum , and so we’d all begun to use that term when referring to the dead man.
Monday.
Would you like me to sing?
It will be just me and Gus and van der Waal at the
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