Tales of the City 07 - Michael Tolliver Lives

Sumter?”
    “Sometimes,” said the boy. “I watched The Princess Diaries and Cheaper by the Dozen and… The Passion of the Christ .”
    “We watched that with him, of course,” Lenore said sotto voce . “It’s real inspirational, but it takes…you know, a grown-up to explain things.”
    I asked her, somewhat wickedly, if she understood Aramaic.
    “Oh, no. I meant…the suffering part.”
    “Oh, I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “It’s no worse than…say… The Texas Chainsaw Massacre .”
    Lenore missed this impertinence—or chose to ignore it—but Irwin shot me a scowl from the depths of the catcher’s mitt.
    Don’t get righteous with me, I thought . You’re the one showing S&M snuff movies to a seven-year-old.
    “And this one’s my favorite,” Sumter was telling Ben, ignoring the old folks altogether. “Her name is Ariel. I can make her tail wiggle, see? I’ve got this cool underwater backdrop that I made from Mama’s shower curtain, only that’s back at—”
    “Listen, sport,” Irwin interjected, “the grown-ups are fixin’ to talk, so why don’t you take your toys up to Nor-Nor’s room? Your mama’ll be here soon—”
    “They’re not toys,” said Sumter. “They’re puppets.”
    Irwin, it seemed to me, was already in a state over his grandson’s passionate theatricality and in no mood to split hairs. “Take them upstairs, Sumter. Right this minute, you hear? Or Granddaddy won’t take you to the Dolphins game next week.”
    Sumter, so help me, rolled his eyes. “I’m so scared.”
    Seeing her husband’s color beginning to rise, Lenore tactfully interceded. “Sumter, honey, what did I tell you about sassing your granddaddy?”
    Solemnly, and with dramatic deliberation, the boy filled his arms with puppets and left the room without another word.
    “He’s such a funny little fella,” Lenore said.
    “He needs a man in his life,” said Irwin. “Somebody to smack some sense into him. He’s got way too smart a mouth on him.”
    “Oh, now…”
    “And I don’t mean one of those wimps that Kimberly’s been datin’ on Match.com. That boy could use a nice long summer camp with a drill sergeant.”
    “Oh, Irwin, for heaven sakes.” Lenore sighed at her husband, then gave me a crooked little smile. “He’s kidding.”
    “The heck I am,” said my brother.
    “I envy him those puppets,” I offered, changing the subject. “They’re so much better than they used to be. I had to make my own out of old socks and papier-mâché. Remember, Irwin? I did Jack and the Beanstalk, and I made you be the giant.”
    Lenore gaped in delight. “I never knew you liked puppets when you were little!”
    I nodded. “I made stages out of cardboard boxes from the Piggly Wiggly.”
    “Well, goodness,” said Lenore. “I guess it runs in the family.”
    “I guess it does,” I agreed.
    What exactly it was remained discreetly ambiguous, but the air was electric with subtext. I didn’t dare look at Benjamin. Or Irwin, for that matter.
    I knew what they were thinking, though. Both of them.

    Sumter’s mother—my niece Kimberly, who works for Florida Citrus Mutual over in Lakeland—came to fetch the child a few minutes later. She stayed to make chitchat and give Ben a brief, voracious once-over, then left the four of us to our various discomforts and a tinfoil tray of deviled eggs Lenore had picked up from the deli at Harris Teeter.
    “I figured y’all would wanna rest tonight,” she said, passing the eggs to Ben. “We can head over to Mama Tolliver’s in the morning.”
    “That’s fine,” I said.
    “She’s fresher in the morning.”
    I wasn’t sure what that meant but thought it better not to ask. “Is there some place we can pick up an azalea or something?”
    “Oh, sure. There’s a nice mall right outside of Orlovista.”
    There’s a nice mall right outside everywhere, Lenore. It’s nothing BUT malls anymore.
    “So…Ben…Mikey says you’re originally from Colorado.” It was the safest possible approach she could have taken, but at least she was making an effort.
    “Right,” Ben replied pleasantly. “Colorado Springs.”
    “Colorado’s beautiful, I hear.”
    “It is, actually. Magnificent. It taught me to love the outdoors.”
    Her brow wrinkled in thought. “Oprah has a house there, doesn’t she?”
    “I think she does.” Ben nodded. “Up near Telluride.”
    “They were redoin’ it one time on her show. You know that decorator of hers?