“Okay, I will,” I said, “but who will you talk to when you start feeling bad about Mary Theresa?”
She didn’t answer. She just looked sad again. Just before I left, I told her which steps to watch out for. I also told her to carry an umbrella if she went out that evening, because it was going to rain. I don’t know if she took any of my good advice.
In the car, I got worried again. I was expecting Harvey to be mad because I kept them waiting. But he didn’t say anything to me, and when he talked to my mom, he was sweet as pie. I don’t talk when I’m in a car anymore, or I might have said something about that.
Harvey went out not long after we got home. My mother said we’d be eating Sunday dinner by ourselves, that Harvey had a business meeting he had to go to. I don’t think she really believed he had a business meeting on a Sunday afternoon. I sure didn’t believe it. My mom and I don’t get to be by ourselves too much, though, so I was too happy about that to complain about Harvey.
My promise to Mary Theresa’s mother was on my mind, so when my mother asked me what I was doing up there in the choir loft, I took it as a sign. I told her the whole story, about the window and Mary Theresa and even about the accident. It was the second time I had told it in one day, so it wasn’t so rough on me, but I think it was hard on her. She didn’t seem to mind, and I even let her hug me.
It rained that night, just like my knee said it would. My mom came in to check on me, saying she knew that the rain sometimes bothered me. I was feeling all right, though, and I told her I thought I would sleep fine. We smiled at each other, like we had a secret, a good secret. It was the first time in a few years that we had been happy at the same time.
I woke up when Harvey came home. When I heard him put the Imperial in the garage, I got out of bed and peeked from behind my bedroom door. I knew he had lied to my mom, and if he was drunk or started to get mean with her, I decided I was gonna bash him with one of my crutches.
He came in the front door. He was wet. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing, because I realized that he had gone out without his umbrella. He looked silly. The rain and wind had messed up his hair, so that his long side-the side he tries to comb over his bald spot-was hanging straight down. He closed the front door really carefully, then he went into the bathroom near my bedroom, instead of the one off his room. At first I thought he was just sneaking in and trying not to wake up my mom, but he was in there a long time. When he came out, he was in his underwear. I almost busted a gut trying not to laugh. He tiptoed past me and went to bed. The clock was striking three.
I waited until I thought he might be asleep, then I went into the bathroom. There was water all over the place. He hadn’t mopped up after himself, so I took a towel and dried the floor and counter. It was while I was drying the floor that I saw the book of matches. It had a red cover on it, and it came from a place called Topper’s, an all-night restaurant down on South Street. I picked up the matchbook. A few of the matches had been used. The name “Mackie” was written on the inside, and just below that, “1417 A- 3.” I closed the cover and looked at the address for Topper’s. 1400 South Street. I knew Harvey ’s handwriting well enough to know that he had written that name and address.
What was he doing with matches? Harvey didn’t smoke. He hated smoke. I knew, because he made a big speech about it on the day he threw away my dad’s pipes. I had gone into the trash and taken them back out. I put them in a little wooden box, the same one where I kept a photo of my dad. I never looked at the photo or the pipes, but I kept them anyway. I thought my mom might have found the place I hid them, but so far, she hadn’t ratted on me.
I opened the laundry hamper. Harvey ’s wet clothes were in there. I reached in and pulled out his shirt. No lipstick stains, and even without lifting it close to my nose, I could tell it didn’t have perfume on it. It could have used some. It smelled like smoke, a real strong kind of smoke. Not like a fire or anything, but stronger than a cigarette. A cigar, maybe. I had just put the shirt back in the hamper when the door flew open.
“What are you doing?” Harvey asked.
I should have said something like, “Ever heard of knocking?” or made some wisecrack, but I was too scared. I could feel the matchbook in my hand, hot as if I had lit all the matches in it at once.
Luckily, my mom woke up. “ Harvey?” I heard her call. It sounded like she was standing in the hall.
“Oh, did I wake you up, sweetheart?” he said.
My jaw dropped open. Harvey never talked to her like that after they got married.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I was just checking on the boy,” he said. He looked at me and asked, “Are you okay, son?”
Son. That made me sick to my stomach. I swallowed and said, “Just came in to get some aspirin.”
“Your leg bothering you because of this rain?” he asked, like he cared.
“I’ll be all right. Sorry I woke you up.”
My mom was at the door then, so I said, “Okay if I close the door? Now that I’m up…well, you know…”
Harvey laughed his fake laugh and put an arm around my mom. He closed the door.
I pulled a paper cup out of the dispenser in the bathroom. I turned the cup over and scratched the street numbers for Mackie and Topper’s, then put the matchbook back where I found it. By now, I was so scared I really did have to go, so I didn’t have to fake that. I flushed the toilet, then washed my hands. Finally, I put a little water in the cup. I opened the door. I turned to pick up the cup, and once again thought to myself that one of the things that stinks about crutches is that they take up your hands. I was going to try to carry the cup in my teeth, since it wasn’t very full, but my mom is great about seeing when I’m having trouble, so she said, “Would you like to have that cup of water on your night stand?”
I nodded.
Harvey watched us go into my bedroom. He went into the bathroom again. My mom started fussing over me, talking about maybe taking me to a new doctor. I tried to pay attention to what she was saying, but the whole time, I was worrying about what Harvey was thinking. Could he tell that I saw the matchbook? After a few minutes he came back out, and he had this smile on his face. I knew the matches wouldn’t be on the floor now, that he had figured out where he had dropped them and that he had picked them up. He felt safe. I didn’t. I drank the water and saved the bottom of the cup.
The next morning I got up early and went into the laundry room. Harvey ’s clothes were still in the bathroom, but I wasn’t interested in them anyway. I put a load of his wash in the washing machine, checking his trouser pockets before I put them in. I made sixty cents just by collecting his change. I put it in my own pocket, right next to the waxy paper from the cup.
I had just started the washer when my mom and Harvey came into the kitchen. My mom got the percolator and the toaster going. Harvey glared at me while I straightened up the laundry room and put the soap away.
“You’re gonna turn him into a pansy, lettin’ him do little girl’s work like that,” he said to my mom when she brought him his coffee and toast.
“I like being able to help,” I said, before she could answer.
We both waited for him to come over and cuff me one for arguing with him first thing in the morning, but he just grunted and stirred a bunch of sugar into his coffee. He always put about half the sugar bowl into his coffee. You’d think it would have made him sweeter.
That morning, it seemed like it did. Once he woke up a little more, he started talking to her like a guy in a movie talks to a girl just before he kisses her. I left the house as soon as I could.
Before I left, I told my mom that I might be late home from school. I told her that I might catch a matinee with some of the other kids. I never do anything with other kids, and she seemed excited when I told her that lie. I felt bad about lying, even if it made her happy.