Chapter one

               Our neighborhood was never the same after Stracy White and her family moved in across the road. My mother and our neigber, Miss Hall mourned the loss of the farm land and the borns and the sheds which dated back to the 1800′s, I rejoiced in finally having the chance of someone my own age moving into my neighborhood. The days of blind folding myself and wondering around my room in Helen Keller simulation, were drowing to an end. I sat by the window, watching as moving van after moving van came down our street.

               “The split- levels are coming! The split levels are coming!”,  Miss Hall had said at a meeting of the historical society of which she and my mother and severl others attempted to stop the sale of the price of land in front of our homes. Known for her do-gooding and her big white Mercedes, Miss Hall was soon known as well for not wanting the sale to go thrrough.Our own house was bult in the early 18oo’s and my mother had gone to great lengths to learn its history. “There was a time when there wasn’t a house within ten miles of your’s”, a historion once told her when he had come to photograph the house to list it as a historical landmark. He gave my mother a lot of information what she carefully typed up and filed away with all her other historical stuffs. My mother had grown up in Germany and did not live in South Africa till her early twenties. She had many paper, like pedigress, that told of various ancestors we had on her side of the family. The shorpedges of her accent had been filed down over the years, slowed and softened and mixed with the smooth african accent, they appeared only occasionally when she talked about raking the yard or playing cards or how life was hard.

                She fanned out brochures on historical organizations and showed me her collection of various pins and certifiicates, essays she had written in schools lectures she had given while teaching school, all the while ignoring my father’s comments on his lineage,which he said was a mix of German, Scotch, Irish, Dutch and whatever else took root down in South Africa. He had grown up in a small town outside of Durpan. “Your half German and half soda”, he said and raised his glass. My mother did not even look up from her paper work, her broad bony sholders bent slightly as she smoothed her fingers over some document to get the folds out. Sometimes she ignored him completely, unclipping and retwisting her thick hair and humming over his voice. Once dark, her hair was almost all gray and always pulled back into a bun.

               My parents never really looked like they went together to me, even in the wedding photo that was placed on our living room wall above the fire place. I expected the real wedding couple to step in from wings of either side. My dad was a heavy man, always with a cigarette between his thick fingers, his gestures quick and animated as he moved through the house , forever pacing. Though most of his time was spent teaching math at the local IV league college, he always had great ambitions of writing a perfect murder story a mystery, one with a plot that had to be solved mathematically. It was not unusal for him to all of a sudden jump up and run into his office to write down a series of numbers while my mother shook her head and looked up at the ceilling. My mother was tall and lean, usually the tallest women in the room but never settling for flat shoes. For every animated move my father had, she had composure and reserve. The only time my mother lost her calm control were those few and in between times, like when my cousin Andrea showed up at our house and my father escaped behind the closed living room door or outside into the darkness of the parch to have talks with her, conversations that were not repeated or explained. Really, all I knew about Andrea was what he had told me, that his sister, unmarried and only seventeen, had a complicated delivery and died soon after, that his mother had raised the baby and as a result he felt that Andrea was more like his little sister or even his own child.

               I have no memories of my grandmother, but he talked of her so often that I saw her in a magical sort of way, this little white haired lady whose husband had rana shrimping about of the cost of good hope , her face and hands a weathered brown from hot days spent surf fishing or shaking the sand from white sheets she hung on a line. When I am agined myself being left from the world like the little match boy, she was the one who came for me. My father said that she was a brilliant lady, a poet’s soul buried in a tough little shell; My mother described her as a poor sad woman who lost her mind.

               My father’s name was Fredrick Timothy Cattier known to every one as Fred. My Gram’s told him that he was named after a lord, a noble man like the one’s she spent her entire life dreaming of, a poetic lord or knight to ride up and carry her off across the coastal plain, tilepools spraying and sand flying. She had originally wanted to name him from a knight.Her first choice being “Sir Arthur Conan Dayle”, but at the last minute decided that she liked Fred more then Art. “Why didn’t she just name you Robert?”, my mother onces asked, “it would have been the easiest route to a poetic name”. ” Had to be a lord or a knight” he replied, “You can call me my lord”. This from such a brilliant lady”, my mother said, and shook her head, giving me a “you see what i mean” look as she unclasped her bun. She held a gold bobby pin between her thin pink lips as she pulled herhair back more tightly. My mother’s name is Heidie, was tight lipped with teeth clenched on the tongue and my own Casey was like a short Sharpbite.

               I was five when I first met Andrea. My father took me to Durpen beach. We stood for hours just listening to the roar of the surf and wedging our feet into the cool packed sand. Andrea appeared at the top of a sand dune, her thick auburn hair blowing behind her. My father squeezed my hand and laughed out load, as loud as the surf. “There she is!” he screamed, and then again almost in a whisper,”There she is”. She greeted me as if i was a grown man, her cool fingers gently cupping and covering my left cheek and neck where I have a birthmark the color of wine. “Its not your fault Heidie,” I overheard Miss Hall telling mother, “I suspect God has his own reasons for painting him that way.” Andrea pressed her lips to my cheek, and then dropped her many strands of beads around and around my neck while we ate fried chicken that she had packed in a basket. “What was I thinking Fred? I forgot something for him to drink.” I sat there with her on the faded quilt while my father walked up the beach and over the dunes to the old bait shop to get a carton of milk. She twisted the cork from a bottle and filled her glass with burgundy wine. The day was supposed to be a secret but in the exhilaration of seeing the ocean for the first time I let it all slip from my mouth into my mom’s ear, where it fell solid, logging in her chest.

               Not long after that we were invited by miss Hall and some other church friends to a picnic at Cherry Grove Beach, which she said was”light years better then Durpen beach” These women were quite a bit older then my mother, so I was the only child present. They didn’t even wear bathing suits but sat fully clothed under big striped umbrellas, and the whole day was all planned as neatly as if bells went off in their heads to signal the next event. Keep your shoes on because the shells are sharp and would cut clean through to the bone.Set the places and we mustn’t forget to set his place, we mustn’t forget to thank him for this food. Don’t forget if you get the urged in the warm salty water to take off your bathing suit and pee that he is watching you and he will know what you did, and if you have thought about how good it feels to be all naked and running your handsdown your body, then rest for sure he will know. And, oh, my lord, don’t even look to your left unless you want to see a suit that shows all that a woman has to show. I spent much of the day digging in the sand by the edge of the water, barging my feet and then letting wave after wave wash them clean. The things those women talked about were things that could keep you awake for the rest of your life, death and illness and poverty and insurance policies and he will get his due. It was so easy to sin, as easy as telling a white lie, or saying damn or saying that we come from monkeys, or kissing the glassy paper mouth of a movie star on aposter. And how could God keep it all sorted, all these direct lines,these prayers that were shot up at him like bullets, Cross crossing, ricocheting, contradicting, negating ” I just hope that she will live until young Matt graduates from college. Well i just hope she dies quickly and quietly- at peace. How can you be wishing her dead like that? I for one pray that there will come a day when there is a cure for cancer. I pray for the doctor’s in the laboratory, I have a cousin whose son-in-law is working at the NIH in Johannesburg’s. I pray they don’t get a divorce even though my cousin says she prays for the best for both of them.

               If his eyes had been just on those three striped umbrellas on the Cherry Grove stand, he could not have met their demands, not even to mention those of the rest of the world. This was prime time, a Sunday afternoon, and the thought of having to sort through all those requests made my head spin. It was that very day that I attached to Andrea everything beautiful and lively and good, she was the easy flow of the words and music.The waves crashing on Durpen beach as I spun around and around because I could not take in enough of the air and the seagulls as they swooped and whined, Andrea was energy, the eternal movement of the world, the blood in my veins and the wind in the bare winter branches that creaked and cried out in the night like tried ghosts in search of a home. She was the answer to a prayer and I thought about that day at Durpen beach often, recreating every word and every movement before I fell asleep. By the time I was eight, when her face was getting hard for me to remember, I would imagine her holding my hand and spelling secrets messages into them.

               By then i had read the bio of Helen Kellernine times, each time finding something new, each time conjuring what was left of my memory of Andrea. “You cannot check this out another time this year,” the pintop librarian had said when I tried to check the book out for the tenth time. she was amazed by all the noise a classroom of eight year-old can make by just entering a room.

                   “Somebody else might want to read about Helen Keller”. “What if I wait until the end and nobodies checked it out?” ” There are other classes, you know,” she said, her lips pushed forward and then she stomped off to yank Sven green and R.W. Jones by the arms and tell them to stop rubbing their feet on the new indoor outdoor carpet and then touching people to shock them. It was the only exciting thing going on in the library. “You’re gonna rub this carpet bare; Now find a chair”, she tuned to heave herself back to the desk while they had found chairs. Nobody said R.W.Jone’s name right,like the teacher begged us to do “R Double U” she would say, and he’d telll her his name was “R Dubyah” that he was not a fancy talker and if his momma had meant for him to be named R Double U, then she would have called him that instead of “R. Dobyah”. R.W was the tallest boy in the class because he had stayed back once in first grade and again in second, he wore a dirty, piece of twine around his neck with a little blue rat fink hooked to it. Sven Greens had a black rat fl ink withred eyes, which was supposed to be good luck since they were so rare ” So can I read Helen Keller?” I whispered ” Are you deaf?” she asked me and R.W Jones who was standing there, wanted to check out a book on stock car racing said “What? What Miss Librarian?”

               “The split- levels are here” Miss Hall said the day Stacey’s family moved in , and waved her hand at the row of homes as if she could make them disappear, “That kind of house is not designed for the country like this one is it?” I was nine that August, and for months I had watched one big moving van after another bringing some one new to our street. Always, it seemed, a family with babies instead of some one close to my age. Stacey’s house was identical to the other six split-levels already occupied and the three which were springing up around the corner. “I’d need bread crumbs to find my way home” Miss Hall said her pursed lips pained the sameshade as the bloom on our fuchsia plant. “I hear somebody over onmaple” she paused, pointed her thin finger through the split level tothe street parallel to ours ” is building a ranch out of some kind ofwoad that just does its own way in the weather”

               Stacey’s house was my favorite of the whole bunch, It was whitewith blue shutters, electric blue Miss Hall said in a hushed whisper. Later that same day while she stared at the big moving van with Durpen tags ” T saw what looked like it might be a bar, you know to houseliquor” she whispered ” I’ve heard of neighborhood’s going down this way”, as she looked over at the White’s home, “It happens slowly in the beginning, one house here another there, and then before you know it, the decent people stop coming, and more and more riffraff come in, Prices drop and so other can afford to come in.” She paused and then tilted her head toward the back of our property lines which ended in a tangled field of kndsa and a row of ting pasted houses “a colored family lives down there, it can happen”

               ” Peacock blue” Miss White said smiling at Mr White a Sherwin-Williams paint sampler in her hand Mr white was up on a ladder putting the final touches on the trim of the porch yawning “Now nobody will mistake our house for another” I had been standing on the curb for about three minutes, through it seemed like hours. Mr White wore an old baseball cap to shield his face from the sun, but already his cheeks were bright pink like the skin on Stacey’s sunburned nose. Stacy looked just like him with that strawberry hair and doughy white skin, made even whiter in contrast with her mother’s tan, a shade so deep you might wonder if she was from another place altogether. “Do you think she’s foreign?” Miss Hall had asked and then turned back to her rosebushes, the nozzle of her hose tuned to a fine mist. “Peacock blue just like my Stacey’s eyes,” Miss White said, and hugged this plump plane girl, who seemed to be much more interested in the soccer bull that her skinny older bother was bouncing against the brick wall of the car port than she was in meeting me, “My Stacey is just your age.Nnine going on twenty,” Miss White said to me and laughed, but Stacey was still eyeing me suspiciously, and why wouldn’t she? I had come bearing a paper plate of delicate little homemade ladyfingers and my mother’s instructions to ask where they were from. If I had been in her shoes, I would not have trusted me either.

               “Wouldn’t you love to have peacock in your yard?” Miss White asked, and turned to me, her thick dork hair was pulled back in a ponytail as she stood there barefoot in cropped jeans, her toenails painted pale pink. It was her eyes that were peacock blue, and Stacey who was hugged up close had just a wash out version to go with her frizzy orange hair and freckled arms. I was about to say that i would love some peacocks but before i could she was asking another question, “Fourth grade?” she said to me, which I came to learn quickly was her way of asking a question, all but the key words deleted “Yes,” I answered and tried to take in all the things scattered about in their carport because I knew I’d be quizzed: a black sewing mannequin dressed in a lime green miniskirt and holter top, a stone statue of a fish with its mouth wide open, a little miniature pagoda, bags and bags of gravel and lots of little lanterns and tiki torches “pin top”she asked me,and again i nodded yes.

               Stacey was still just standing there staring at me. She was slapping a fly paddle against her bare thigh. “Lets eat these cookies you brought. I just can’t wait,” MissWhite gripped me by the hand and then pulled both of us through the coolness of the box- cluttered kitchen, where she pored out glasses of Coca Cola and pot on a Elvis Presley record, I was not allowed to drink soda on a regular basis, but i did not say a word. Rather, I sat in complete of this women whose purple wooden earring’s swung back and forth as she talked. I envied the silent girl across form me, Stacey on first meeting I thought her name a cruel joke as cruel as someone huge named bitsy or tighne “whats your name again, Hun?” Miss White asked her hips moved back and forth in rhythm with “heart break hotel”  

               “Casey Arther Timothy Cartier” but people call me Case” I said and then with out thinking added,”My dad sometimes calls me “kitty cat”, it slipped, this nickname my mother despised “kitty cat” she said and stared at me, smiling while Stacey have me a dirty look “I like that,I like the way it sounds, the same way i like Stacey”. “Right,” Stacey finally spoke. Her voice was nasal and much deeper then I’d expected from someone with such pale skin “I was named for a horse. And you were named for a car” her deadpan expression brought Miss White over to her chair. ” No honey,” she squealed in laughter and threw her arms around Stacey’s neck Yyou know the story of how I thought of your name.” She turned to me briefly. “Stacy is named for Stacy Rose Allen, a young woman I never knew but just heard about, sort of a local legend where I’m from.”

               She pressed her check against Stacy’s “You weren’t named for the horse, even though I did think that was such a romantic sounding name, Stacey of Chengdu, and you were Stacy of Durban Beach.” Stacy just stared down at the vanilla wafer and lady fingers on the paper plate in front of her, her mouth tightened into a straight line.”Johnny Mathis must think its a romantic name, too he named a song that.” “Yeah yeah yeah and your named for the three stooges” Stacey said and paused with a vanilla wafer in hand ” Hello? hello? hello?hello?” she said, it perfect three stooges rhythm, and she was beginning to smile now, as if this was a routine the two of them had played through many times before. And then her mom, hand gently placed on Stacey’s head began singing “Look At Me I’m As Helpless”…..”Oh Yea” Stacey said and bit into a lady finger, leaving a ring of powdered sugar on her lips, “These cookies are pretty good,” then for the first time, I heard that laugh shrill and hyena-like. I often thought it was like in the common rule, laugh, and the louder the better.

               “So whats your brother’s name,” I asked I could see through the window, there at the base of the ladder staring up at his father. He was a perfect blend of mother and father, dark hair and pale skin. He looked like he was probably three or four years older then us.”Flicka” Stacey answered and again laughed that laugh. “Do you think he’s cute?” in the same way that Miss White asked her key-word questions, Stacey’s asked the impossible-to-answer kind. If I said no, which was my impulse after having seen his cheek pointed features and the blue veins visible in his cheek, then they would be insulted.If i said yes, then I was in for teasing or my own humiliation when they told him, I shrugged. “Stacey of you aren’t a card and a half. Don’t embarrass kitcat” it sounded odd for her to call me that, and i knew that I had made a terrible mistake in telling her about my nick name. “And i did not name the child, “Flicka” even though I was tempted,” she turned to me, her eyes briefly lingering on my birthmark “His name is James Bean White” “But we like to call him Flicka” “Now cut that out you ” Miss White swatted playfully at Stacey Kit cat’s not going to want to come back if you act his way” she wentto the kitchen window and rapped on the class. “Dean? Dean?” until he ran over and pressed his face flat against the class like a Pekingese”cookies” I decided I’d leave while he was coming in so I stood up.

               “Is that a birthmark you have ” Stacey asked and leaned forward, her bare legs squeaking on the red linoleum’s seat of her chair ‘Stacey!” Miss White stepped forward hands on her hips, and I focused on the ting gold chain around her ankle while i nodded, while James Dean White walked past us and opened the refrigerator. “Its just a question” she said more to her mother than to me , and then reluctantly she reached out and tagged on the back of my T-shirt. “I am sorry,” she apologised. “It’s okay, ” I quietly pushed my chair away from the table to stand. “I need to go home”. “Oh! I wish you’d stay, why, you haven’t even meet Dean. Dean this is Kit Cat from next door.” ” You can call me Casey” I said but he just shrugged and went back to drinking from a water jar. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feeling, I think its kind of neat, It’s sort of shaped like Italy, you know, like an old granny boot” “Stacey” Miss White’s face was as red as her husbands, but something in what Stacey had said, though not my favorite thing to hear, had struck me, it did sort of look like Italy; she was completely honest and I found I liked that.

               ” I have some granny glasses” she told me “wont to go to my room and see?” There was more stuff in her room than i had ever seen, big paperflowers and fans and a stuffed bear that filled on whole corner. She had a chewing gum wrapper chain that reached all the way around her room, and it was made from only Clark’s Tea berry and Clove, making her white room smell like those wax lips and whistlers that we all bought for Halloween. After demonstrating the Tea berry shuffle several times, making her little ceramic dog collection rock on the top of her dresser, she showed me how to make a chain she played “Hold on ” By Herman’shermits on a record player she had right there in her room. Stacey had also memorized every single word of “the balled of the green berets”and quited it while I sat there on her bright orange and yellowswirled bed spread.

               “I have a picture of Sgt Barry Saddler” she said, and opened a drawer, pulling out a picture of the singer. He’s little green beret was cocked to one side “My Dad’s friend Ted was in the 82nd Airborne Division” I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but just nodded in agreement and acted impressed because clearly she was. “Ted says if he ever meets Sgt Barry Saddler that he’ll get his autograph” she could also sing “Secret Agent Man” by Johny Rivers and did so while she twirled her baton over and under her extended arm, doing the “pancake” shec alled it. And she did have some granny glasses, dark Green glasses in rectangular wire frames; “Like a hippie,” she said while rearranging her paper Flowers in one of those melted and stretched out coke bottles. Like Annie Sullivan, I was thinking, wanting those glasses for my own. “You can borrow them sometimes,” as she put the glasses back in their plastic case, she unwrapped her last stick of Tea berry gum. Bite it in half, and handed me the rest “you con borrow them right now if you want.”

               “It’s peacock blue,” I reported to my mother and Miss Hall who is sitting in the kitchen waiting for my report, under the rouge that they were planning the big Easter celebration. They both looked so plain and somber compared to Mo White and her loud. Colored pillows and sparkling wall hangings in Oriental designs. Our house looked so sparse and bare compared to the big paper fans and parasols that belonged to the White family, or to their ceramic table shaped like an elephant.

               “And they came from Durban beach” I tried to say the place as if it meant nothing at all to me, as if i hadn’t spent thousands of hours thinking about that one time I had been there, but all it took was the set of my mother’s chin to make my cheeks grow hot. “I find that hard to believe,” Miss Hall said ‘I certainly don’t visit the place but certainly I am familiar with most of the names living there,” I wanted to say that names don’t live, people do. “Mr Hall and I used to take the train and spent a long weekend there every fall. Of course, that was back before you moved here, back when Durban beach was a quaint little fishing village and not,” she paused, looked at my mother and shook her head, “Well not like it is now’”

               Mr Hall had been dead for my whole life and all I knew of him was what I had over heard my father say that other people in the town had said: that he had a lot of money, was a powerful man politically, and no one knew why and how he had managed to marry and live with Miss Hall all those years “Stacey liked Durban beach” I said watching my mom’s back stiffen “She’s my age and has a older brother. Miss White grew up here in town. She moved to Durban beach when she married Mr White, who was from around there.” ” Hush! Then you know, I’ll know who she is. What is her maiden name?’ I shrugged still thinking about all those boxes they had tounpack and trying to imagine what was in them. “Whats her first name?” ‘Mo,” I answered tempted to do the hello hello hello just as Stacey had done, only my moma and Miss Hall would not have gotten it, a waste of perfectly good breath. “I think her whole name’s Mortha” “Martha” Miss Hall sat up straight, her finger in the air like she was about to make on important announcement “Oh. Its on the tip of my tongue, her father kept the horse stable down near the river” ” I know she likes horses’ ” Oh of course” Miss hall raised one eyebrow her face pontier like” I do indeed recall that family the Wileys. Yes Mo Wilay. She is much younger than us but i do remember her” I wondered why moma let Miss Hall carry on with that “Us” when Miss Hall must have been at least fifteen years older, Moma poured her another cup of coffee, no sugar no cream. ‘She was riding horses when she was just a teeny little thing. I used to see her over in the Pasteur where the highway is” Miss Hall pushed away the ashtray. “They belonged to the borders, who did not really like a seven year old child exercising their horses” She looked at me when she said this, as if to say that nobody liked children period. “The Wiley’s did not have a pot to…..” she paused, stil lstaring at me. “Pee in” I added to which my mother raised a stiff eyebrow. ” Nor a window out of which to throw it”

              Miss Hall sat back and relaxed by letting her hands reast on the table. She could not stand to end a sentence with a preposition. “I wonder if Miss White knows Andrea?” I asked boldly, the excitement of the time I had just spent at Stacey’s lingering with me. My mother looked up as if in slow motion. Miss Hall was leaning forward to hear my mother’s response. “I wouldn’t know. She might” moma said. “Now, who is Andrea?” Miss Hall was still leaning forward, “Notyour sister no. You don’t have a sister. Is Adrea Fred’s sister?” Miss Hall was rifling through her purse for a cigarette.” “Niece. She does not visit very often; Hardly ever,” moma said her voice falling into its original sharpness, her pronunciation like a honk of a goose. She turned to me then “Casey, why don’t you run and tell the Whites about the Easter picnic and how the whole Town comes. Tell Miss White if she has any questions I am happy to answer them.” ” Find out what all those rocks are for,” Miss Hall called after me, and then I heard her continue talking to moma “I just can’t imagine what all those rocks are for. And that little wooden structure looks like something out of the Orient.What could that be for? You know, I don’t think much of the Japanese, haven’t since the war. Mr Hall was in thePacific, you know, Purple heart and various other citations.”

               My mother’s steady flow of yes and uh huh’s were like little commas punctuating all that Miss Hall had to say even no and then, my mother smoked a cigarette. Miss Hall’s lengthy tales seemed to trigger the desire though she would never have let my father know; it was her mission to monitor his heart; to get him to give up this three pack a day habit. Her lectures would be mean nothing if he caught her in the act. She breathed in and out heavily, emitting a stream of smoke, while nodding along with Miss Halls words “I have Mr Hall’s machete and you must’ve seen it.” “Yes, yes hanging there by the fireplace. He wrote every day from the pacific he said ;I killed a jap’ you know, Mr Hall was quite the man’s man” uhhah “Yes hunt fish, win citations for bravery, you name it. He said ‘Theresa, don’t you ever buy anything made in Japan; which of course I wouldn’t have even thought of doing. Cheap. I don’t go for cheap.”

               By the end of the first week Miss Hall stood on her front porch and watched Mo White spread rocks all over the lawn, digging up what little bit of grass had begun to grow. She dug a little gold fishpond, in the middle of which stood her fish statue a fat, friendly-looking fish in sandstone, and she planted a big clump of pussywillows out near the streat ” Oh My God, Oh My God” I heard Miss Hall mumbling; Her head shaking from side to side. The little pogoda was the mail box and in a perfect line from top to bottom said: Whites, 202Evea Road “Oh My God she said ” do let a Strong wind come and carry it all off, every pebble, please just do that for me. Please just answer this one very small prayer and I’ll never ask for any thing else.”

Intro

                                                                         A Boy’s Dream      

                I am not a pragmatist, understand. I have a keen and mercilesss conscience. I could have been a nice guy, maybe at times i am. but always, i’ve been a man of actions. Grief is a waste, and so is fear. And action is what you will get, remember beginnings are always hard and most are artificial. But now when I take my time, its not that bad, its kind of ok to look back. It was the best of times and the worst of times of my life, really? when? and all happy families are not a like, and are not always HAPPY!!!!!!

              I love a good fight. While those who know me might argue that i have a fierce temper, I tend to disagree. like I said, i love a fight, I ve been known to get fired up just to kill time. Its an entertainment thing, you see-not a temper thing. For the record, Ive never been in a real fight-the kind with fists and black eyes. I’d get my ass handed to me. if anyone throws a punch my way, I’ll bleed and sue. Like a small group of proud and honorable men. Im a litigator, not a fighter. Fighting for me is a battle of wits, a good old fashioned argument. Ill take on just about anyone for any reason, even if I know Im wrong. Though I rarely am , of course. If you diagree, bring it on

chapter three


                    Our house was built in the 1800′s by a man named John Stanley Burns who had four sons. All four died in there mid twenty’s and were buried in their small private church yard, which was the beginning of what was later named Shadey Oaks Graveyard. I could see the gates and some of the more recent tombstones from my bedroom window, recent being the turn of the century. There were no vacancies in Shadey Oaks, though my father had once drown up an elaborate plan of how he could skim a measly two yards off our side yard and sell something like twenty new plots

          “Of course, the folks would have to be willing to stretch out north- south,” he had said still fiddling with a small metal ruler. “none of this facing the sunrise. Of course, if they’re some real short people…..” My mom said that she better never hear of this idea again, that he had had plenty of bad ones but this was the worst. It was when he was into composing obituaries for people he didn’t care for, so I never knew if his cemetery-expansion idea was serious or something crafted to irk my mother

          we had walked through the cemetery many times, my mother curios about dates and names my father just curious, always making up stories of these long ago dead people, how they died, weather not not they were murders or committed suicide. Really my mom was forever shaking her head in disgust, refusing to look up when he asked her to look at him and say that she did not find the possibility entertaining, refusing to discuss his ideas about what they should have written on their tomb stones. The two times that we had gone to Pretoria to visit my mom’s brother, we had spent most of the trip in cemeteries, looking for Hawthorne and the Alcott’s and mother Goose and Ben Franklin;s, on and on, my mom marveling at those frightening skull and cross bones that were so popular. “How come you like everybody’s tombstone but mine?” my dad asked “If Paul Revere had written a limerick, you’d think it was wonderful, poetic, inspirational. Admit it, you have something against tombstones.”

          The Burnes family plot was the furthest from our house, a thick wooded area that in the summer was completely hidden from view. There was a short iron fence surrounding the graves, which were completely over grown with tall grass and weeds, the markers were worn smooth, the name of the wife of the oldest son illegible. Not for from there was was an old caretaker’s cottage, a small closer-size building were at one time gardening tools had been kept, the yellow dirt paths were over grown and went in crazy circular patterns, in and around the tombstones and markers,

          Stacey and I had spent many afternoons scaring ourselves, seeing who would go the furthest, who would go closest to the caretaker’s house closest to the Burnes’s plot. Our heart pounding as we screamed with the rustle of a squirrel or a bird and poshed and shoved each other to get back to the clearing near the tall iron gates were we could see my house.

          The opposite corner of the cemetery bushed up to a dead end where teenagers met and parked on weekend nights. Sometimes when my window was open, I could hear their loud radios and gunning engines. Stacey always wanted to sneak out and spy on them, and we spent a lot of time concocting elaborate plans we never had the nerve to carry out. It was much easier in the sunlight as we sat on a limb of that large oak tree and imagined what these teenagers did out there.

          “Ill show you,” Stacey said one afternoon, when white winter light made everything look sharp and clear, a perfect focus. And she jumped from a lower limb, kicked through the leaves until she found a long twig, She went over near the road where there were lots of bulled up paper bags and crunched up bear cans, and I watched, swinging my legs, breathing in the cold air and smell of woodsmoke. She squatted down, the twig held out in front of her as of she were fishing, and in a few minutes held the stick out for me to see what looked like plastic on the end “yep, just as I thought,” she said and stalled to ward me waving the stick.

          “What is it?” refusing to climb down from my perch as she motioned me to do

          “what is it?” she threw back her head and laughed “what does it look like?” she waited for me to answer, but when I shrugged she grinned and stepped closer “this” holding the stickup towards me “ this is a rubber” I watched as she ran back to the street, the stick in her hand, as she kicked her feet through the weeds and trash “here’s another one!” and races forward as if on some kind of wild scavenger hunt. “man ow man” she laughed “And we were wondering what they did over here!” I could not help but to think of the souped up red GTO I had seen race around that corner so many times, a girl with long blond hair we had seen twirling a button with the high school band now holding her hand out the passenger window, a cigarette between her fingers, I imagined a bear can held between those denim things and then the driver’s hand reaching across the seat, his fingers crawling towards her, imagined them kissing like what we’d seen when Mo white lets us watch “Peyton Place” one Friday night “Another one man oh man, lets see who can count the most,”

          The Cemetery looked like a different place those after noons as we ran up and down the paths, spoke to graves by name.Sometimes it scared me to look out at night and see those tall iron gates, ivy covering the brick pillars on either side, and other times it was a comfort, this resting place of the Burnes family. Sometimes I tried to picture faces to go with the names I had read there in the cemetery, Luke,Jr. Mark, John and the youngest, Matthew, who was only sixteen when he died. I always wondered why they didn’t name those boys in new testament order

          I imagined the Burnes to look just like all the characters in Shenandoah, which Stacey and I had seen three times in a row one Sunday at the cape fear theater, and sometimes as I lay in bed, I imagined where they all had slept. Mr Burnes who looked just like Jimmy Stewart, slept down in my parents room, the youngest boy slept in my room with his brother, John, the older two boys across the hall in the quest room until they took wives and built small houses of there own with in sight of the main house. I imagined that the pasted houses just past the field at the edge of our lot were where Luke JR. lived I had a clear sharp view of those houses form our sleeping porch, and in the summers I liked to sneak out there and sit on the cot, my knees pulled up under a cotton night gown.

          Sven Green and his mean brother, both of whom had pale skin and thin light hair like their mother, lived in the light blue house with the tar-paper roof. Their father was as dork and hairy as the mother was pale and washed out. A baby girl was usually holding onto the mothers house coat when she passed by the window of what must have been the kitchen, the room lit by a bare bulb swinging on a chain. Occasionally Id see Sven come into the room and pass in front of the window like a flash of white. I never would have told anyone, not even Stacey, that I sometimes watched the house. There was some thing wrong my watching, and get it was like I couldn’t help my self.

         “That is ridiculous” mom said when I asked if their house had always been there “those old houses were thrown up right after the depression, I’d be surprised if their walls are bade of anything stranger than card board.” Mom said that the Green’s house and the others along the back stretch of land were an eye sore and she wished they’d move else where. She complained often about Mr Green, how he never cleaned his yard, how tools form when he worked at the old gold mine close by were strewn about like straw. Mr Green was known to everyone in town as “Beef” a nick name he had earned in high school when he was the star athlete “there’s not enough kudzu to cover it” and then went on and on about the rudeness, the horrible nature of MR Beef Green, hesitating in order to give her self ample time for proper enunciation of the name. Mom and Mrs Hall often talked about all the families who lived back there and how ours was the last NICE street before the town started.

          I was told from the time I could crawl that I was never to play back there, never go beyond the thick hedge which marked our property “there are snakes near that over growth” I was told, which was true, proof being the skins Sven Green once brought to second grade, graying black snake skin which he wore tied around his neck. Nobody, not even the teacher, said a word about it. When he sow me looking at him, he just grinned, one front tooth missing, and then licked dry kool-aid from his dirty hand. And when he was called on to read aloud, his face went red and his voice shook and spatted on every single word, while the teacher stood there with her own mouth open as if she could draw the words form his mouth. If it had been any one else in the class, people would’ve laughed, but even in second grad we had all heard of the Greens, we had all heard about Sven’s oldest brother, who was doing time in person for something so bad it was only whispered among adults, and wee had all heard of his brother David, who was two years ahead of is and always in the principals office. The little sister Maybelle, was born that December during second grade “Say something about it” Sven had said as he held a little crumpled up snapshot out to the class.

“This is why I didn’t come to school last week”

          Sven was still using the old first grade book, and when he finally got to the end of the line “See spot run, Run, spot run,” he closed his book and pot his head on his desk when the teacher Questioned him he looked straight ahead, his chin shaking but his words as solid and sturdy as a rock “Who gives a goddamn? If a dog’s got legs it’ll run.” Then he pulled out his pack of cherry kool-aid, the some way he would in a few years pull out a pack of Marlboro’s, and poured the powder into his open hand.

          “I once sow a dog with out any legs” he grinned at me again when he sow me watching but I turned away form him before he could make the deep guttered cat sound that he made whenever he sow me “my big brother David, he made the dog that way” Some kids in the back of the room laughed nervously, and the teacher ignored this as she usually did. She culled on me to read, and I picked right back up where I had left off in a advanced reader. I could feel him watching me, I could almost hear his tongue licking the grainy bits of cherry kool-aid, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before he strained his thin neck out and screamed like a ally cat, I had made the foolish mistake one day of telling the teacher that I had a nickname, that at home my dad sometimes called me kit cat instead of Casey

           “Meeerrrrrroooooowwwww,” He called out and grinned. It was the only sound he could make clear as a bell without stammering or hesitation

          “that old cracker box house of beef’s” mt mom paused for pronunciation time, “of the Greens, well, there was no such blemish on the land during the plantation days of this house. This house was a marvel, the finest in this whole coastal region” Mom has stared off in the same way I imagined she must have dune before I was born, when she taught school, her voice carrying up and down rows of desks “This house was to this area what beacon hill is to Pretoria, Georgetown to Johannesburg, Kroger national to the whole of South Africa….”She paused, probably expecting my dad to call out snob from some other room in the house, but he was teaching that day.

          “The house then was nothing like it is now,” Mom continued. “it was gutted by fire during the war. Only the structure remained, and that was just a small part of what was here, now, your bedroom and the kitchen below it were old added on in the 1920′s by a man named McCarthy” The McCarthy’s were also buried in Shadey Oaks, but I never really fashioned a place for them in our house, I just clang tot the Burnes’s family, especially to Matthew, died so young, too young to have lived really.

          Stacey’s mom once told us that there was nothing so tragic as some one struck down in the prime of there life. Long before people had begun asking “Where were you on November 22, 1963?’ now taken over by where were you on 9-11” Mo White had been during it, keeping up with those who had died. She wasn’t talking about Kennedy that day, but Buddy Holly, his record playing in the background while she layered marsh mallows and Hershey bars and then let us sit in front of the oven waiting for s’mores as if it were an open campfire. It was pouring down rain that day, and she kept going over and looking out the window, glancing at the clock, then back to the window.

          “I want to run out and get the newspaper before it gets sopped,” she said and smiled at us, her face bright and clear. Her toenails shone pale pink as she stood there bare footed on the old green linoleum. She was the youngest mother I had ever known and the only one who ever would have let us eat all the s’mores we wanted. She leaned against the counter and waved, both hands over her head, to a car that passed on the street, a blue galaxy 500 like a police car, a huge fan of water arcing into the yard, and then she watched until the car turned the corner and disappeared, it seemed she forgot about the paper and instead ate a s’more and started he record over with the song “Raining in my heart” and then “Brown eyed handsome man.”

          “You know if I have another child ill name it after buddy holly,” once again staring out the window

          “What about a girl?” Stacey asked smirking, her pale blue eyes opening wide as she tried not to laugh. Then leaned and caught her mom’s arm, squeezing it

          “Holly for a girl and Buddy for a boy” Mo said She hitched up her little purple hot pants and pulled a box of macoroni from the cabinet. I had heard this routine of theirs so many times that I could just about predict what she’d say next “You were named for a women from Durban beach by the name of Stacey Rose Allen, who drowned in 1900 at the age of sixteen,”

          “Well, that makes me feel a whole lot better!” Stacey bit her s’more and then wiped the stringy marsh mallow form around her mouth, her fingers held apart as she reached for a napkin

         “i heard the story of Stacey Allen often when we lived there. Its sort of a local legend and people still leave flowers there on her grave” she wet a paper towel and then wiped Stacey’s hand like she was five instead of thirteen. “She was wading across the inlet at low tide to meet a young man and lost all track of time. She knew her daddy would kill her if he found out she had done to meet this man, and so she had no choice but to cross back even though the tide had come in and the water was over her head” It seamed each time Mo White told the Stacey Allen story it got a little bit better, and every time she told it, Stacey made an analogy to the read see crashing down, she said that when she imagined Stacey’s Allen’s young man, he always looked like Charlton Heston

          “No I believe in giving a name another life especially the young. If you ever get up and turn on your radio and they are playing the best songs some one ever recorded back to back, then you know some thing has happened. I knew Buddy Holly had died before the announcer even said so. February of 59 and you Stacey, why you were a baby barely a year old. Dean was just four and that was about the time that he knew every single ward of ‘Witch Doctor’.” mo stared out at the rain as if she could see a four year old Dean standing there. “it was so cute to hear him do that.” She turned back, “No when they played ‘Peggy Sue’ right after ‘Maybe Baby,’ I knew.”

          “My fathers Sister died when she was seventeen,’ I told them. My own voice sounded foreign telling this story I had only heard on a few rare occasions. “She died when she was having a baby.” I couldn’t picture Andrea as a baby and instead got a picture of her stretched out on the beach, that man inching his way towards her, his hand crabbing across the faded quilt where she held the bottle of wine between her thighs

          “How awful,” Mo said with a slight shake of her head, tears coming to her eyes. “How terribly sad.” She went over to their stereo and turned up the volume for “True Love ways” which was the song I liked best on the album. I wanted to tell more of the story, how she was holding Andrea with in five minutes of her last breath, but it all seemed to sad to say aloud. Stacey’s mom usually enjoyed a good sad story but that day she seemed a little distant, a little jumpy. Besides I wasn’t even sure if I remembered it all or not, my dad had told me the story in bits and pieces over the years, a little here, a little there, the same way Mo told the Stacey Allen story.

          “Here’s your favorite song kit cat,” Mo said. I sat there and listened, with the whole house smelling of chocolate and marsh mallows, rain pelting the kitchen window to the beat of Buddy Holly, and Stacey poring over the long lean girls on the cover of seventeen futilely conjuring ways for her to become more desirable than anyone else in the seventh grade “Stacey Rose Allen never looked this good or like this” and she help up the magazine to show the flawless face of the young cover model. Mo came from the window and wrapped her arms around both of us, pulling us close so that we were all face to face. “NO,” she whispered “because Stacey Allen was the most beautiful and now you two are the most beautiful and most handsome.” I was waiting for one of Stacey’s sarcastic remarks, but instead she just giggled, pressed her sticky lips against Mo’s cheek, and I imagined Andrea Saying Mo’s words to me. Imagined me kissing her that some way. It was April then and bu the time school got out, Mo had announced that she was going to have a baby, a Christmas baby, Holly for a girl and Bobby for a boy.

chapter two


                     Durban beach, just by its name, had always made me imagine huge Ferris wheels and strings of blinking lights, and cotton candy whipped and spun around a paper cone like I had seen at the small carnivals that passed through town from time to time. My father had grown up just a few miles from there, and he talked about it often, the ocean, his father’s bout, the sea gulls circling over head. I was five the day he took me there, and what i remembered most was the excitement of it all,a surprise, a secret, my mother thinking that we had gone to Johannesburg to look at new cars. My bathing suit was rolled up with his in a bath towel on the back seat.

          ”You’re going to meet your cousin too” he said turning his head to grin at me “She’s gonna love you” he emphasized love, laughed as he twisted the radio knobs up and down. All we could pick up was the faint static of the Johannesburg station.

          Durban beach was nothing as i had expected; there wasn’t even a amusement park there, just pire and lots of bait and tackle shop, no tall buildings like in Johannesburg, just a trailer park and rows of small pasted houses, much like the ones stretch behind our backyard. Still, I stopped asking to see the amazing ferris wheels when I began to smell the salt breeze and held my hand out the car window to feel the damp mist that seemed to hang in the air and sparkle like a spider web.

          ”Your about to see the ocean” dad said as we crested the old wooden draw bridge, and sure enough, when we came down the hill, I sow blue water, smooth as glass way out where it met with the sky, and rolling and cresting and breaking up near the sand. I could not take it all in fast enough, and when we finally got to where we could park and get out, I ran out onto the sand. I kept checking to make sure my dad was sill there and he was, squatted by a dune, rolling up his trousers. I waited and then the two of us, holding hands, stepped into the water, the waves breaking on our ankles and then on my legs. He lifted me each time a big wave threatened to hit me above the waist and then I sow Andrea. Watching her came down the dune was almost like seeing a movie in slow motion, seeing every step of her long bare legs, her feet sinking into the hot loose sand. My dad’s hand left my shoulder and flew up in a wave, back and forth. She was beautiful there on top of the dune.

          ”Andrea, Andrea he said over and over. He pushed her back and looked at her, so young looking and glamorous in her two piece sparkle gold suit that hit right below her bell button.

          ”And you” Andrea stepped back from my dad and stared at me “Casey Arther Timothy Cartier I’m so glad to finally meet you” She squatted down, a rush of her scent coming to me with the ocean air, perfume or shampoo like gardenias. She studied me carefully her eye’s lingering on my cheek as I reached up to hold it. “Oh, don’t hide your handsome face” she whispered and took my hand. Her lips were counted in a pale pink frost like cotton candy ” He looks like a Cartier” Andrea said, and twisted her hand round and round the brightly colored beads she wore, their turquoise blue a perfect match to the terry cloth cover up and the barefoot strapped sandal’s she carried. “See the copper in his hair?” Andrea lifted a strand of my hair, and I strained to see it as well “And those fine full lips” she pinched my cheeks in like a fish face and then lifted her fingers the her own mouth “perfect for doing this,” and played her lips up and down while humming like a funny musical instrument or under water sounds. “and Freddie,” she looked up, my dad’s shadow falling over her like a net. “you are a sight for sore eyes.” She blinked hard several times. Her lashes, separated and painted black, had left small brush strokes just below her thin arched brows.

          ”YES,” He whispered, and reached out to touch the strand of hair which fell near her eye “so are you”

          ”Hows the General?” she asked and laughed, her question confusing me until my dad said “Heidi’s fine you know she really has missed you.”

          ”yea right.” ‘Ill fry like a French-fry if I don’t pot on some lotion” she leaned in close to me, and again I got a deep breath of her gardenia smell, as rich and sweet as our backyard in the early summer.


                    We sat on her quilt while my dad walked up and over the dunes to go buy some milk for my lunch. She scooped the sand and uncovered a bed of Aquinas, their polished, colorful shells seen briefly before they began to dig their way into hiding: she placed one, purple and white one into my palm, and then one by one curled my fingers down around it. “Don’t say I never gave you anything” and threw back her head laughing, her hand was cool. lightly touching my cheek as if it were a burn or a tear, some thing painful.

          When we left Durban beach, she was still sitting there, her hands stretched out behind her, knees bent, head thrown back like in a cover girl photo. The sun was low in the sky, heavy orange light that made even the most run down of the bait shops appear gold filled and misty, like in a dream

          ’I am meeting someone/’ she had said when we left her there.

          ”A man? my father asked and she turned her face toward the ocean ,leaving us to stare at her profile, and her beauty mark, a round dark mole just above her lip

          ”Always the big uncle now, aren’t you?” laughing softly, her own voice drowned out by the circling gulls “I am a big girl now Freddie. Heidi will tell you.” She reached out and moved her hand like a crab on the sand to his foot “I am a lot older then i look.”

          ”So am i,” I said as a way to rejoin their twosome, perhaps to get her to crab her soft hand with those long, glassed nails my way, and they both laughed

          ”I just turned twenty two, remember?” twisting a strand of her hair round and round her finger “I am legal, dear uncle, white, single, the works.

          ”Wall” my dad said as he stared out at the ocean, then took a deep breath. “I am just about always at the college.”

          ”Always?” she laughed again, little lines gathering around her corners of her eyes

          ”You know what I mean”

          ”Yeah Yeah” she waved her hand and then reached and took hold of his “Monday through Friday. Ill be in touch” she nodded and then turned to me. “and I hope you will keep in touch, too’ she pinched my nose lightly and than let her hand linger near my cheek

          ”you can touch it again’ I told her “it doesn’t hurt” but she just smiled and then let her hands drop to the sand, her glassed nails disappearing in the shiny white grains “Leave leave,” waving her hands again “you two are going to be in big trouble with you know who if you’re late for supper.”

          When we got to the top of the dunes, my father turned to look back and she was still there, her arms raised and waving to a man on the beach; I couldn’t tell much about the man from that distance, only that he looked very tan and wore a cap pulled low on his forehead. He moved towards her like in those commercials that went to slow motion. I walked backwards up the huge dune, expecting her to turn and wave one last time “Take one more look at the ocean kitty cat;” ,y dad said, but he was not watching the ocean. He was watching Andrea, who by then had her head leaned against that mans shoulder as he hugged her close.

          “Who is that man dad?”

          “I guess a friend of hers” he pushed me towards the dunes and the bathhouse where I had left my clothes, both of us turning to wave once more but she wasn’t looking. My father was silent as he drove. Smoking one cigarette after another, checking his watch again and again. The sun was so low that I could stare right at it with out hurting my eyes, and we drove toward the orange light, weaving along the small bumpy high way that cut through an empty stretch of Farm land.

          When we got home mom was out on the front porch, her hands in the pocket of her gardening jacket, her hair pulled and pinned and sprayed into place, was hidden under a multicolored scarf tied at the back of her neck “I was getting worried” she called out. Her cheeks were flushed with color” Suppers about ready” she rearranged the clay pots of Geranium’s on the porch rail as we walked up “I was beginning to think you’d left me,” she laughed a quick laugh, her eyes never leaving his face.

          “We had a great time I drove the new BMW they had. Boy is she a beast.”

          “Must’ve been a convertible” she pot her fingertip on my nose and pressed lightly, then turning the collar of my shirt up right, slipping the neck to one side; her fingers felt cool to my hot shoulder, “yes some convertible at that,” she whispered, glanced at dad once and then turned away “cmon,Casey I think a nice loke warm bath and some Jorgenson lotion will feel real good to your sunburn”

          “We’ll, sure, she got some sun. We pass right by the turn to Durban Dam on the way to Johannesburg you know that. Went for a swim after we finished car shopping”

          “At the Dam?” now she looked at me, her eyes steady, and I nodded just as dad had dune, and then in no time dad had his arm around her and had coaxed her into a laugh

                    But later when I was stretched out on a cool sheet, nearly asleep, and mom’s hand was rubbing lotion into my back, I mentioned the waves rolling and rolling and the little animals that dug their own secret hiding places. With my eyes closed I could still feel the movement of the sea, the surge and pull as I stood at the edge while my dad and Andrea waved to me from the quilt where they sat side by side. Like the waves and the energy I had felt on that shore, I could not contain my self.

          “You went to Durban beach didn’t you?” the movement of her hand never stopped and I just nodded “did you like it?”

         I nodded my eyes so heavy I found it difficultly to focus on the roses of my wallpaper.

         “did you like…….” her voice slipped off like into a well and there was a long pause. I could hear her breath, a deep inhale, “did you like your cousin

          “Yes” I dozed then, flowing in and out as if I ware riding a wave, her hand on my back her lips brushing my cheek, the soft yellow glow of the ruffly pin up lamp above my bed.

          After that night, out trip was never mentioned again. The only time I heard Andrea’s name for a long time after was late at night when I lay in bed and climbed the roses on my wallpaper, up and down as their voices carried through the vents.

                    Maybe it was on one of those nights, when I heard their voices muffled and unintelligible, that I came up with the Helen Keller game, the prelude to all those afternoons I spent blind folded in my room as I remembered Andrea and that day at the beach. I would lock the bedroom door, blindfold myself, and then I would begin pacing off the familiar spaces of my own room. IT was amazing how quickly I became disoriented, my hands stretched out, expecting to find the chenille bed spread, to touch its rough nubby knots, and striking only air. It seemed the more I tried to find my way, the harder it became, the harder to breathe, like the panic that comes suddenly in deep water. I would end up ripping the blind fold from my face, blinking back the daylight,always surprised by the softness of my room, with its floral wallpaper and the stuffed toys on the window seat. When I could comfortably make my way without panic, I added the earplugs I had found in my mothers medicine chest, “Casey, Casey, what are you doing up there?” my mom called with each bump and stumble, her voice faint like the distant buzzing of a fly. Helen could not have even heard that. Frustration of it all was over whelming and left me felling dizzy and tired.

          “ were you playing Helen Keller again?” Mom asked me at supper on night. My dad turned his head to one side and coughed a laugh into this napkin “I just don’t think its healthy. I don’t think its good to close your self up in a room and pretend to be blind. My goodness.” She brushed a strand of hair, damp from the heat of the kitchen, back from her face “for on thing, it’s making light, making a game out of a horrible thing. What if you were blind. imagine that.”

          “Sounds to me like thats what she’s been doing.” my dad said getting up and walked over to the buffet where he kept his scotch in a cut glass decanter. “Lots of response to my editorial the paper published about how we need a traffic light over near the junior high school” I knew he was trying to change the subject, to get me off the hook. I wanted to tell mom that it was her very own words, her very own “what if you were this way or that way, then you would realize that a little birth mark is not the end of the world” that had gotten me imagining Helen’s life in the first place.


          Mom let him change the subject, praising his editorial saying how every body, even Mis Hall, said he was the best free lance writer that the paper had ever seen. Dad continued talking through dinner about the history of the stoplight “They cut this from the article”, wiping his mouth, his eyes focused on the checks in the tablecloth as if he were counting them “I thought it was the best part, too. You see, the stoplight was invented by a man named Garret Morgan, now think just think how many lives he has saved since his invention.”

          “Am I supposed to guess a number ?” mom asked because nine times out of ten he did have an answer for what sounded like a hypothetical question.

         “No just want you to think, to get a feel for the importance of this man. He also invented the gas mask, again, all those lives saved.”

          “And?” mom leaned foreword, waiting impatiently for him to loop back around to his story.

          “Well, when people found out he was black, they canceled their orders for the masks.’ his fingers trucing the checked lines on either side of the his plate. “He had to get a white man to sell his invention, but they cut that out, I said it was a terrible thing, right up there with what happened to Bessie Smith” I asked who she was, and then we were off and running on a brand new tangent “What kind of father am I that my own sun does not know who Bessie Smith is, I’m a failure a complete failure”

         “Not complete,” mom said and laughed, the conversation once again winding back to all the compliments she received about him, what a fine teacher he was and so on

         I thought mom had forgotten the whole Keller episode, but when I went to bed that night, she came into my room and read me a poem called “lord forgive me when I whine,” which was about a man walking around and feeling sorry for himself until he passed a crippled person, a blind person, deaf and so on, which made him feel small and stupid and insignificant to have ever felt sorry for him self when he had legs and eyes and ears. Downstairs Bessie Smith song “Nobody knows you when you’re down and out” full blast. I think what mom really wanted to say was something like be careful what you wish or be careful what you say because things come true. If you cross your eyes, they’re liable to stick and stay that way forever.

                    Sven Green could flip his eyelids inside out, and thats what I thought about when mom left the room. He would flip them inside out and then have blood red eyelids like little caps where his eyes should have been. “What will you do if they stick like that mister?” our third grade teacher would ask him

          “ Get a job at the fair” Sven turned and looked right at her with his eyes flipped that way “big money in eyelids buy all the liquor and women I wont”

         After my mother read her poem I confined my Helen play to night time when I was certain she was in bed. I felt my way about the room until I stopped before the window that faced the cemetery. If I could guess the stand of the moon on those tall iron gates before looking, then I owed myself a quarter,I never told anyone else about the Helen seller game, not even Stacey. More and more, the game took place in my mind, like a thought or a silent prayer.

                    I kept a small transistor radio under my pillow and listened to a station in Durban beach it was as for as I could get from home with out static, and I tried to imagine the invisible lines connecting me millions of threads stretched over roof tops, criss crossed with television antennae that rotated when the station was turned. Durban beach was for for away.

          By the time I was nine, it was getting harder and harder to recall Andrea’s face. Some times when we sat in that faded quilt, the waves crashing as she took my hand, it was right, the real face, but other times it was miss Kitty from “Gunsmoke” or Anne Bancroft, sometimes it was Ann Margret, who Stacey and I had recently seen in a Elvis movie, because her hair was the right color, but more and more often it was Mo White’s. I loved to think of her, the way she breeched into Stacey room when I spent the night and in one swift moment tucked the covers around us and then stretched out at our feet to tell a story, some times real, sometimes made up, sometimes funny and sometimes sad “Good night, moon, she would whisper, and tiptoe from the room, her long purple kimono trailing behind her.