My mom was lying down, and even though her door was closed I heard sobbing coming from her bedroom. She missed Josh a lot, and so did I. I would be back in school soon, just after Labor Day.
I saw her sitting on the floor going through the family photo albums, slowly turning the pages and tracing her finger around the pictures of Josh. She saw pictures of Josh at the prom, Josh in his uniform, Josh throwing snowballs in the backyard, Josh with the family, Josh at Thanksgiving, Josh clowning around at Christmas, Josh…. She continued to turn the pages in the album and crying the whole time, murmuring something under her breath that I could not hear. She would sometimes stop and lift up Josh’s favorite sweater and press it to her face and take in a deep breath. Then she began to cry again.
I tiptoed into her room and sat down beside her. She looked at me, smiled and put her arm around me then had me help her turn the pages. When we were done with one album, she picked up another one.
“Mom,” I said quietly.
“Yes, David?”
“Maybe we could take all of Josh’s photos and put them into one big album. Then we can see all the pictures of him at one time.”
She smiled, wiping away the tears, sniffling, “That’s a good idea, Davey. I’ll have your father get me one big album from the photo store and then you and I can arrange them all together. Would you like that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled and hugged me before standing up. It was a welcome smile.
“In the meantime Davey, be a good boy and go to the store for me,” she said just above a whisper. “The money and the list for the Labor Day cookout are in the kitchen.” I took the list off the refrigerator and looked at it. It was a long one, but my mom wrote on the top of the sheet:
Davey—you can get this at Weis Market if you want. Don’t forget the mayonnaise. I’ll need that to make your father’s potato salad.
That’s good, I thought since it was only a block away to the corner grocery store. Schnucks was so far away.
I went to the store, but I no longer rode my imaginary horse; instead, I walked thinking of Josh. I was in my own world. I missed him like crazy.
When I walked into Weis Market it was nearly noon, and it was crowded. I looked at the list and started adding things to my cart for my mom. It took over thirty minutes. I found everything except mayonnaise.
“Hi Davey, how you doing today?”
“Fine Mr. Weis. I need some mayonnaise for my mom.”
“Aisle two if we have any. Bea can you help young Davey out over here? He needs some mayo for his mom. Is she making potato salad for your dad again?”
“Yeah, it’s my dad’s favorite, Mr. Weis.”
“Sure, Willie,” said Bea, his long-time aisle clerk, who had been there forever or for at least as long as we have lived there. “Hi Davey,” said the older lady, she had to be at least two hundred years old with her glasses gliding down her nose, being held in place by a multicolored glass-beaded chain, which hung around her neck. She knelt over to reach the bottom shelf and pulled out a jar and lifted it up.
“Here you go, Davey. I am all out of mayonnaise, but I do have Miracle Whip, which is just as good and it doesn’t cost as much. I use this in my salads all the time. Your mom will really like it.”
“Well, I don’t know Miss Beatrice … she said to get mayonnaise, and you know how my mom is.”
“Well Davey, I’m sorry but I don’t have any mayonnaise. You’ll have to go to Schnucks, if you want real mayonnaise,” she said returning the jar to the shelf. “They may have it in stock… or they may not.”
It was another half hour or more to walk there and back. My mom was probably going to need it sooner than that so I asked, “Are you sure it’s the same thing?”
“You bet, Davey. And I’m sure your mom will appreciate you saving her some money.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t steer you wrong now, would I Davey? Just take this to your mom, and she’ll be real happy with you.”
“Okay,” I said and walked to the checkout counter.
It was just my luck; there were three people in front of me waiting to checkout. I wasn’t in a rush but I wanted to get home for my mom. When I looked at the line closer, the woman at the front of the line was a Negro lady. I had never seen a Negro in Weis Market before. She was dressed real nice. She wore a hat with some little multicolored flowers around the hatband, just like the one my mom wore to church on Sundays. I could see that her socks were rolled down around her ankles; I guess it was to keep cool. She had a small purse hanging from her arm with white pearls stitched onto the side.
When I looked closer I saw it was Miss Cora, the lady who worked next door for my neighbors. I smiled at her and waved, but she didn’t see me. She looked different without her red sweat-stained bandana wrapped around her head. And I had never seen her feet before. She wore nice shoes, but her feet looked like they were stuffed into them. I was afraid they were so tight on her feet it looked like if she went to take them off, she would never get them back on again.
The line finally moved. I daydreamed and thought of The Lone Ranger and all of the good he does. But he never waits around for a thank you and I always wondered why?
“I’m sorry but we don’t serve your kind here. No colored in here, ma’am,” said Mrs. Weis for all those in line to hear. “You’ll have to leave.”
“That’s not right. I gots my money right here. I gots to get something for my babies. You sees the store near my house is all out. I needs dis powered milk…please.”
“I am sorry ma’am, but I told you, we don’t serve no colored folk here. Come on now, you’re holding up the line. You’ll have to leave.”
Miss Cora set the three cans of dry milk down on the shelf right in front of me and shuffled out of the store. When she turned around and saw me, her dignity was gone. A sense of shame and embarrassment came over my whole body.
Cora left under the watchful eye of Mrs. Stella Weis, the owner’s longtime wife. Then Mrs. Weis turned to me with the sweetest smile. “Hi ya, Davey. How are you doing today?” she asked me. “Are you having a good summer? Doesn’t school start for you next week?” She motioned for me to push the cart closer so she could unload the items from my cart.
“Yeah, I guess.”
I should grab the three cans of milk and buy it for Cora and her babies and then find her and give her the milk, I thought to myself. She would look down at me and say thanks, but I wouldn’t hear her, because like the Ranger, I wouldn’t stay around to listen to people giving me their thanks. But I didn’t do any of that. I just stood there, frozen in my thoughts, afraid of the looks people would give me. I was afraid of what they might say. I was not able to move as I came face to face with reality. Years of watching the Ranger help all those people in need didn’t help me. I was ashamed of myself.
“Davey, move your cart so I can unload all your groceries for you and ring you up. You have milk, eggs, ice cream, and lots of other frozen stuff in there. Don’t want them to go bad now do we? “She continued with a smile, “Davey, we just got our fresh shipment of Wonder Bread in today and I know how you mom loves fresh bread,” she told me as she handed me a loaf to put into my cart.
I put my Miracle Whip jar onto the stained rubber conveyer belt and watched it move towards the end of the line. I was unable to make eye contact with Mrs. Weis.
Why did it bother me so? I don’t remember ever seeing a Negro in this store before or even in the neighborhood for that matter. She should have known she was different, I thought to myself, and she should not have even come into the store. Yeah, why should I feel guilty? This isn’t her place to come here. This is my neighborhood not hers. But this was Cora. This tall, proud colored woman who listens to me babble on about my problems, about my brother Josh, and about my writing. She always gave me good advice. And now she can’t even buy canned milk from a grocery store for her baby. What would the Lone Ranger do?
“I changed my mind, Mrs. Weis,” I blurted out. I couldn’t believe I said it. “I’ll just have these three cans of dry milk, thank you.”
“What? Ahhh…your mother doesn’t even use dry milk, Davey. And what about all these groceries you have here? These are eggs! Milk and ice cream. Bread and Miracle Whip.” She looked upset, glancing at all the items on the conveyor. It was a big sale. Her eyes squinted, “Well…” she stammered, “Okay then… but you have to put these things back on the shelf, Davey.” She spit out my name.
I made up my mind that I was not going to shop in their store anymore. It wasn’t fair. I’d have to figure something to tell my mom. Hope she wouldn’t be mad at me.
“The name is David, and my mom put mayonnaise on her list for me to buy. You don’t have any so I’m going to get everything on her list from Schnucks. I also understand they let colored people shop there,” I said sticking out my chest and dropping a dollar on the counter for Miss Cora’s dry milk.
She was shocked but could not find the words to say anything as I grabbed my change and the bag containing the cans of milk and rushed out the door. I saw Cora standing at the bus stop, waiting for the bus as it pulled up to the stop.
I started towards her and a hand grabbed my t-shirt from behind. I turned around, it was Barry the bully.
“Where you going so fast smart ass? I told you I’d get you someday and today’s the day.”
I stood tall, watching the bus open the doors at the bus stop. The line began to move to board the bus. Cora was at the end of the line and Barry was standing in my way. I looked up at the big lout and when I looked at him closer, he wasn’t that big after all. Stand tall Marine, I heard Josh whisper to me.
“Get your damn hands off me, you big bully,” I told him. “If you don’t I’ll break every bone in that big fat hand of yours and feed them down your throat. You hear me?”
Whew! I couldn’t believe I just said that.
He quickly let go of my t-shirt but still had a shocked look on his face as I raced across the street to catch up with Miss Cora. I ran across the street and caught up with her just as she was getting on the bus in front of the new bank.
“Miss Cora, Miss Cora wait.” I hollered.
She turned in surprise to look at me, I was standing so tall.
“What’s wrong chil’? Are you okay? Is everything all right with your momma?”
“Yes ma’am, she’s fine. I got this milk for you…, for your baby.”
She stood there looking at me not knowing what to say. She reached down and hugged me. “You a good boy, young Davey Malloy. Bless you, don’t you ever change. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“There should be a law against them not being able to sell to folks. And the poo…lice should enforce the law. You’d be a good policeman, young Davey. I’ll see ya tomorrow. Thank you.”
“Bye, Miss Cora.” I waved to her as she got on the bus and watched it pulled away. From that moment on I no longer wanted to be a pirate, a cowboy, or anything else. I wanted to be a police officer. I wanted so bad to be a cop. Yes, that’s what I wanted to be.
I walked home, and for some reason I felt good, real good as if I had done a fine thing or something else to make life better for someone else. The sidewalks didn’t even feel hot on the bottom of my sneakers. Mom would be angry that I didn’t get her groceries and spent the money for the milk. Now I would have to walk to Schnucks for the groceries. But I didn’t mind, I didn’t mind at all.
The mailman was walking up our steps as I reached our house and he waved at me. “Hey Davey it’s your lucky day. I have some mail with your name on it.” He handed me the mail, and I took it inside before beginning my trek to Schnucks. I took another dollar from the grocery jar. I would have to tell my mom about it sooner or later. I walked on my tiptoes so as not to wake my mom.
“Davey is that you?” my mother called out from the bedroom.
“Yes ma’am. Weis was out of mayonnaise so I’m going to go to Schnucks. I’ll be right back.”
“Davey, come in here, please,” she said just above a whisper.
When I walked into her room, the lights were out and her shoes were on the floor. The room was cool. I saw my mom lying on the bed and saw belly rise and fall, it looked like a basketball on top of her stomach. It was dark inside the room, but I could see her trying to reach for her feet to rub them. I gently massaged them for her, just the way she liked.
“Davey… that snippy Mrs. Weis called, and she was very upset. Something about Miss Cora making a scene and you not buying anything there… or something like that.”
“But mom they were out of mayonnaise, and they wanted to sell me …”
She gave me that gentle smile of hers and ran her hand through my hair. “It’s okay, Davey. I know what you did and… you did good. That’s all I wanted to tell you. I’m so proud of you, and I told her we won’t be shopping at Weis Market anymore, ever. You’re growing up so fast, but I’m so proud of you, you’re just like your brother Josh. He would have done the exact same thing that you just did. Come here and give me a hug.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“No Davey… not at all. I’m so proud of you. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom,” I said as I hugged her. She gently put my head onto her swollen belly. “We’ll be having a new addition to the Malloy family soon. Can I count on you to help out around here when I’m gone?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I could have sworn I heard a small heartbeat inside my mom’s stomach.
“Okay then. Now go get the groceries. And I’ll make up a fresh batch of lemonade when you get home, just for you and me. Is that the mail you’re holding?”
“Yes ma’am, the mailman just delivered it.”
“Well, let’s take a look. Slide up next to me, and we’ll see what we have.”
She reached for a magazine addressed to her titled, Southern Ladies. The cover read- Summertime—Still time for Mint Juleps! She laughed at a private joke.
She turned over an envelope and read it, “It’s for you Davey, from Boys Life Magazine.”
I took the letter and said, “They probably want me to subscribe again to their magazine. I’m just not sure if I’ll have time what with starting high school and all. But I do love to read all of their… wow!” I began to read the letter inside. “Oh my God! Mom! Look at this! It’s a check for $150.”
“What? What do they say?”
Dear Mr. David Malloy:
Congratulations! We are pleased to announce that you are our grand prizewinner in our family essay contest. Your story was chosen out of over six thousand entries that were submitted. In addition to the cash prize, we are pleased to invite you to an all-expense paid week of creative writing at our San Francisco headquarters next summer. We will also pay the expenses for one adult chaperone to accompany you during your time here. More details about this writing adventure will be mailed to you shortly. Once again congratulations on your wonderful achievement.
Sincerely,
Robert Griswold
Senior Editor
Boys Life Magazine
“Davey, that’s fantastic. You never told me that you entered a writing contest?”
“I didn’t mom. It must have been Mrs. Corcoran. Isn’t it swell?”
“Davey it’s more than swell, it’s fantastic. When I get up from here, I’m going to bake you the best peach… I mean apple pie that you’ve ever tasted.” She kissed me on the head and hugged me.
“Thanks, Mom. With my newfound money, I’m going to buy you two chocolate Chunky candy bars and a large sixteen-ounce soda.”
“Thank you Davey, but that money is going right into your college fund.”
“What college fund?”
“The one your father and I are going to open for you tomorrow at the bank up the street. But tell you what, use the change from the groceries to buy us each a Chunky and two sodas and you and I will celebrate when you get home. Okay? Hurry now, your father will be home soon,” she told me, clutching her belly.
I walked past Mr. Jost house and saw him wiping down the brand new shining, gleaming Airstream motor home parked out in front of his home.
Wow, was it cool-looking. Mom said they were going to travel across the country and live in it. My dad says they were crazy. Mr. Jost waved from inside the shiny silver oversized closet wearing his now trademark red flannel plaid shirt. His Colorado shirt, he told my dad. Three months living on the road, gee, I didn’t know about that.
Mrs. Jost waved to me from her car window. I walked to her car, a brand-new Edsel. She smiled, “Well, we’re finally leaving. You take care now, Davey.”
“Take care of what, Mrs. Jost?”
“Davey, it’s just a manner of speaking. We’ll see you around Christmas.”
“Have a good time, Mrs. Jost. And don’t worry I’ll keep an eye on your house for you.”
“Which one, Davey?” she said with a gleam in her eye.
“What do you mean?”
“Which eye,” she said with a slight smile parting her lips.
“It’s just a manner of…” I had to laugh. She got me, and I suddenly realized she had a sense of humor after all.
She kissed me on the forehead and waved goodbye. I was going to miss them, both of them.
On the way to the store, I stopped by the library to tell Mrs. Corcoran the good news about winning the contest and to thank her for all her help. I was so happy, $150! She was wonderful. I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to tell her and see the look on her face when I told her that I had won. I know she had to have sent in my story to Boys Life. It had to be her. I had learned a lot from her this summer and I knew she would be proud of me.
There was a new woman sitting at Meg’s desk when I came inside the library. Must be her day off I thought. “Is Mrs. Corcoran here?”
The nice lady with a sweet smile looked up from her filing and studied me. “No son, I’m sorry, Mrs. Corcoran doesn’t work here anymore. She left a couple of weeks ago. I’m her replacement and my name is Mrs. Gibson. Perhaps I can help you find what you need.”
I wanted Mrs. Corcoran and wasn’t about to be swatted away like a fly. Where was she? I really needed to talk to her, to thank her for everything she did for me. School was going to be starting and now I may never see her again. I had to tell her about winning the contest.
“Excuse me, but did she leave a forwarding address? I need to send her a letter. Or a phone number where I can call her? You see, she entered me in this writing contest and I won, and I wanted to tell her all about it.”
“Well, that’s wonderful! But I’m afraid I have no idea how to reach her. She was gone before I came here. What was the story about?”
I smiled and said proudly, “It is a story about my mom. Meg, I mean Mrs. Corcoran helped me pick out books to read and encouraged me to write.”
“Well, I think I have just the book for you. Have your read Sea Hawk?
“Yes ma’am, I have,” I said proudly.
“What about Sherlock Holmes?”
“I read that to,” I told her proudly.
“Follow me,” she said. “How about, Tom Sawyer?”
“Yes.”
“And Huckleberry Finn.”
“No.”
She spun around with a smile as she searched the shelf and pulled it out for me to see. “You’ll enjoy this one. How about Treasure Island? Have your read that one?”
“No, I haven’t read that one either.”
“Here,” she said. “It’s an adventure story about pirates and a young man who joins them.”
“Wow, I love books like that. I love to read and to write. Mrs. Corcoran used to read all of my stories.” I looked at the books she gave me. I could not believe it, more new stories, and adventures to read about.
“I would be happy to read anything you write and talk to you about it. In the meantime, I’ll just need your library card young man. Mr….?
“David, David Malloy.”
“Do you go by David or Dave or Davey or…?”
I thought for a minute before saying, “David will be fine thank you.” Yes, that sounds better, David.
“I think we are going to be very good friends… David.” She smiled and then I looked at the clock on the wall.
Now I had someone else to read my stories. I smiled at my new friend. But still no Meg. I missed her.
“I better be going. I have to get groceries for my mom.”
I nearly ran to Schnucks happy as could be, feeling ten feet of the ground, but it still took me twenty minutes to get there. I won the contest. What contest? The one that pays one hundred and fifty dollars—that contest. I can’t believe there is that much money in the whole wide world. Wow.
I got everything from my mother’s list and then stopped and bought us both a large chocolate nut Chunky candy bar, mom’s favorite and two large sodas. I never had a large soda all to myself before. Usually if I got a soda, took a sip, and put it back inside the icebox. Then it was fair game for anybody to come by and just take a “sip.” But now it was going to be all mine.
When I got back from the store, the house was empty, and my mom was gone. I panicked until I found a note my dad left for me and the rest of the kids:
Jack & Davey –
Mom went into early labor.
Gone to the hospital. Make sandwiches for dinner.
Watch out for your sisters.
Girls – help out.
Will call later.
Love, Dad
Later that night my father called and told my older brother Jack that we had a new addition to the Malloy family, Jeremy Joshua Malloy.
My mom and dad had always said they were going to name the next baby, Jess or Jessie after my fraternal grandmother. But Jeremy Joshua Malloy, now that was a good old-fashioned Irish name if I ever heard one. I smiled; it was like having Josh back in the family. Thanks, Mom.