The Class Menagerie

opened next to Ted’s bed. It used to be a joke with us. Ted could be out of there as fast as a fireman, flinging up the hatch, sliding down a rope almost into the front seat of his car. Anyway, that night he left the car running and the hatch open. His parents were out of town overnight and when they came back, they found him fully dressed in bed. Dead. It was horrible for them. He was literally the light of their lives. An only child, born to them when they were in their late forties, I believe. Judge Francisco had a complete breakdown. By the time he recovered, his wife had closed the house and they moved away. I didn’t realize they’d left Ted’s room just like it was. I guess they couldn’t stand to get rid of his things and just walked away and left it.“
    “Do you think this is why the house was vacant for so long?“ Edgar asked. “We bought it from their estate.“
    “My guess is that they couldn’t make themselves come back to the house, but couldn’t bear to sell it either,“ Shelley said. “So they’re both dead. Not surprising. They were a much older couple than the rest of our parents. They had Ted very late in life.“
    “It’s a shame the house was left to stand vacant so long. It’s a lovely place,“ Jane said.
    “It wasn’t so lovely when we got it,“ Edgar said. “In fact, I wouldn’t have gone along with buying it if Gordon hadn’t been so confident that something could be made of it. There had been transients living here off and on and the police told us—after we bought it, of course—that a drug ring had been operating out of here. Why, some of the riffraff have even turned up since we moved in. One night, we heard scrabbling noises and came down to find a young couple in what you might call ‘a delicate situation’ right in the middle of the living room. Thrashing around in a pile of sawdust. That’s why we’re awfully fussy about keeping the doors locked at night. We’re going to ask guests to be in by ten-thirty or they’ll have to wake us to get in.“
    “There must be a lot of details to work out when you’re opening a place like this,“ Jane said.
    “Probably a lot more that we haven’t even thought of yet. But your group will be a nice trial run, Shelley. I’m sure it’s going to go wonderfully well,“ Edgar said with determined brightness.
    Jane was surprised that Shelley didn’t answer, but continued to stare out the window at the rain. She was frowning. It was always a bad sign when Shelley frowned. “I hope I haven’t made a big mistake,“ she said, more to herself than to them.

- 3 -

    Wednesday morning was wildly hectic. Jane’s car pool schedule—as elaborate as a schedule of Mafia debts, her Uncle Jim claimed—fell to pieces. The mother who was supposed to drive Jane’s high school son Mike’s car pool called sounding like she was in the final stages of pneumonia and tried to get Jane to take her place.
    “I’m sorry, but I’ve got the grade school this week and the whole junior high group has come down with something and I’ve got to drive my daughter, too. I’m really sorry, but you’ll just have to press your husband into service,“ Jane said firmly. She probably would have caved in and helped if it had been humanly possible. It would have put the other driver under a terrific obligation. Being owed a car pool favor wasn’t to be taken lightly.
    “Oh, Jane, you know what an idiot Stan is about car pools.“
    “Stan runs a whole bank! He’s just convinced you he’s too stupid to figure out how to drive the kids so you won’t ask him to help,“ Jane said. “It’s selective idiocy. Steve used to do the same thing.“
    There was some more sniffling and whining at the other end. Jane sympathized. Her own late husband Steve, who had died in a car accident a year and a half earlier, had been just as discriminately parental.
    Jane hung up on the other mother and screamed up the stairs, “Katie! Hurry up!“
    “I’m doing my hair!“ came back the indignant reply.
    “You better get a move on. I’ve got to take you early so I can get Todd’s gang picked up.“
    As Jane rounded up kids, helped hunt for lost math homework, and emptied her purse for lunch money, she reflected on how shortsighted she’d been to allow her children to be spaced out in such a way that they attended three different schools. Why couldn’t she have just had triplets and been done with it? Everybody would have done everything at the same