Charles was an icon—an icon!—but he was not an American of historical significance . Can you believe the nerve? The audacity ? He said such hateful things, you can’t imagine. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg compared to what else he said. I wanted to reach across the table and strangle him. I wanted to ask him if he liked going to the movies. I wanted him to say yes and then I would have told him he had Mr. Charles Chaplin to thank for enabling him to be entertained by moving pictures all these years. He probably wouldn’t know The Kid from Star Wars , though, so I guess it’s just as well I sipped my tea and kept my mouth shut. Chaplins take the high road, you know. I’m just glad your father wasn’t here to witness it, God rest his soul. Your father—Oh my Lord, your father would have spread him on a cracker and had him for lunch. Your daddy wasn’t a Chaplin by blood but he was by marriage and he took as much pride in it as I did. Heck, I used to think he was more proud of it than me, the way he’d go on and on. Why else would he let me keep my maiden name like I did? That kind ofthing wasn’t done back then, you know. Now, a’course, it’s all you see: hyphen this, hyphen that, kids not having the same last names as both their parents is common now but back then no Southern man worth his salt would’ve seen fit to have a wife who kept her family name. We were trendsetters and we didn’t even know it! But there he was, that horrid man from City Hall, just sitting there on the living room couch helping himself to a second piece of almond pound cake, telling me there wasn’t anything more I could do to get the house listed in the Register. Boy, did I have to bite my tongue. Because Chaplins always take the high road.”
“I know, Mom, I know. Chaplins always take the high road . I’ve heard it all my life,” I say with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Mom. I know how much that meant to you.”
“It meant more than you know, I’ll tell you that much.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I spot the clock on the microwave. “Oh good Lord, it’s eleven forty-five? But my watch says— Oh, great. Just perfect. My watch is officially past the point of no return. It says it’s ten oh five. I’ve got to leave to pick up Cricket from school in ten minutes. Listen, Mom? I’m putting the knapsack back downstairs in the basement by the laundry table where it used to be, okay? I’ve updated it and added some new things so now it’s all set.”
“Windex, you are running me ragged,” she says, turning back to her scrubbing. Somehow she’s managed to fit her whole head between the milk carton and a Tupperware containing yet another mystery substance. “Honey, can you get the 409 out from under the sink and hand it to me before you go? Windex, you’re letting me down, honey, so I’ve got to go to the big guns!”
I still haven’t gotten used to the smell snaking out from under the sink. I hold my breath when I open the cabinet door but the smell above the sink is nothing compared to the wallop down below. It’s so sickening I swear I can taste it.
“Mom, we have got to do something about this smell—it’s getting worse by the minute. Holy shit!”
“Language,” she says, her voice hollow from inside cold storage.
“Good Lord, it’s a mess down here. I thought the plumber was coming on Monday? We called about this leak weeks ago,” I say. I come up for air, then go back down for another look. “Oh my God, the cabinets are rotted out they’re so wet. Here’s the 409. The mold’s spread across the entire space. You can die from black mold, Mom, you know that? We’re going to have to rip that whole cabinet out. I bet that’s what’s got to happen.”
“Y’all have only been living back here a few weeks and already you’re renovating a house that’s been just fine and dandy through three generations of Chaplins thank you very much. Four, if you count Cricket. How on earth has it
“I know, Mom, I know. Chaplins always take the high road . I’ve heard it all my life,” I say with a sigh. “I’m sorry, Mom. I know how much that meant to you.”
“It meant more than you know, I’ll tell you that much.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I spot the clock on the microwave. “Oh good Lord, it’s eleven forty-five? But my watch says— Oh, great. Just perfect. My watch is officially past the point of no return. It says it’s ten oh five. I’ve got to leave to pick up Cricket from school in ten minutes. Listen, Mom? I’m putting the knapsack back downstairs in the basement by the laundry table where it used to be, okay? I’ve updated it and added some new things so now it’s all set.”
“Windex, you are running me ragged,” she says, turning back to her scrubbing. Somehow she’s managed to fit her whole head between the milk carton and a Tupperware containing yet another mystery substance. “Honey, can you get the 409 out from under the sink and hand it to me before you go? Windex, you’re letting me down, honey, so I’ve got to go to the big guns!”
I still haven’t gotten used to the smell snaking out from under the sink. I hold my breath when I open the cabinet door but the smell above the sink is nothing compared to the wallop down below. It’s so sickening I swear I can taste it.
“Mom, we have got to do something about this smell—it’s getting worse by the minute. Holy shit!”
“Language,” she says, her voice hollow from inside cold storage.
“Good Lord, it’s a mess down here. I thought the plumber was coming on Monday? We called about this leak weeks ago,” I say. I come up for air, then go back down for another look. “Oh my God, the cabinets are rotted out they’re so wet. Here’s the 409. The mold’s spread across the entire space. You can die from black mold, Mom, you know that? We’re going to have to rip that whole cabinet out. I bet that’s what’s got to happen.”
“Y’all have only been living back here a few weeks and already you’re renovating a house that’s been just fine and dandy through three generations of Chaplins thank you very much. Four, if you count Cricket. How on earth has it
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