Chapter 51

His father was home for once. The house was filled with cigarette smoke. His parents both smoked, but his mother smoked more when his father was around. It was because she couldn’t drink. As much.

“I want to see some behavior out of you when your aunt and uncle are here.”

“Yes, sir.” It went without saying that if he didn’t, there would be a switching. His father’s switch was stiff and painful.

He loved it when his uncle came. His father and his uncle were nothing alike. His father had always been the way he was, Uncle Morris told him, wore his shirt buttoned to the top even in high school. Uncle Morris wasn’t mean about it, just said they were different.

Uncle Morris was a fireman and worked a week, then was off a week. He and Aunt Eunice were staying for the entire week, and his mother had cleaned and cooked for days.

His father was still able to find the dresser in the guest bedroom undusted, and he came to dinner wagging his dust-covered finger. His mother jumped right up and ran upstairs with her dust cloth. His father also said her stroganoff was too salty, and she’d better not serve something like that to his brother.

When Uncle Morris and Aunt Eunice finally arrived, they brought presents for everyone plus a basket of fruit and a basket of homemade cinnamon buns. There was a light blue sweater for his mother, a political book for his father, and a soccer ball for him.

“Soccer’s a sissy sport,” his father said. He said it quietly to Uncle Morris but not quietly enough.

“Builds teamwork and endurance,” Uncle Morris said.

“Sissy sport,” his father said.

It didn’t matter because the first time he kicked it, he cracked the window of the garden shed, and his father took the ball away.

Uncle Morris showed him a book with pictures from all the national parks in the country with a map to see where each one was. He taught him how to tie fishing flies and to whistle and to throw a curve ball. He showed him how to jump into the water without holding his nose with his fingers, and he let him start the coals on the backyard grill.

Uncle Morris did all this in the week he was there. It was more than he’d learned from his own father in his entire life.