The H-Bomb and the Jesus Rock (5 page)

“You said it was the best movie you ever saw.”

“Second best.”

“So what’s the best?”

“
Angels in the Outfield.”

Baseball.

I started singing, quiet,
“Immaculate Mary, our hearts are on fire...”

Ralph

It’s much nicer on this side of the viaduct. The houses all have lawns, not just grass, plus garages. Everyone’s got a lot more money, is why. The fathers all wear suits and ties to work and carry briefcases. My dad wears a green shirt and pants and pushes a broom around. But it’s not because he’s dumb, because he’s not dumb, he’s smart. But he didn’t finish high school. He was a rebel, like Johnny Yuma.

Johnny Yuma was a rebel,

He roamed through the West...

So now he’s a janitor.

If I became a Major Leaguer I’d make enough money for all of us to live together on this side of the viaduct, and instead of taking in ironing Mom would have a garden—tulips or carrots or something—and Dad would retire from being a janitor and make things in the garage out of wood—bookshelves and birdhouses—and come to all my games, telling everyone around him, “That’s my boy out there,”
but not in a drunk way, he wouldn’t drink anymore, why
would
he?

But I guess that’s a pretty big laugh, the Major Leagues I mean, after today I mean.

“Sure hope I can walk, Ralph, y’know?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

President Kennedy

It shall be the policy of this nation to regard any nuclear missile launched from Cuba against any nation in the western hemisphere as an attack by the Soviet Union on the United States, requiring a full retaliatory response...

Toby

Somebody else finally came along, this kid Ralph and his little sister in their wagon.

Ralph + Lou Cavaletto
it says on the side, like they’re in a business together. They come by about once a week, from the other side of the viaduct, around Parnell Street I think, heading to the Jewel for groceries or the vacant lot for empty pop bottles, for the two-cent refund. So maybe that’s the business they’re in, the returning-empties business. Lot of money in that, I’m sure.

They said hi and kept going.

I told them, “Wait.”

They stopped.

“C’mere. Show you something.”

The little one, Lou—funny name for a girl—got out of the wagon and they both came over, obedient. Ralph’s about ten and she’s maybe eight I’d say. They’re both real skinny, Ralph’s nose is way too big, and they’ve got these dark, sunk-in eyes. They look like a couple of gypsies or something.

I had that fifteen cents I told you about and I took out a dime. “See this?” I said. “This is yours. How’s that sound? Not too bad?”

They waited, like there had to be more.

They were right. I tapped on the lid of one of my boxes and told them if they could guess how many baseball cards were inside they would win themselves this bright shiny dime. “Go ahead,” I told them. “Nothing to lose. Take a guess.”

They stood there looking at the box, thinking hard. I finished up a piece of toast and licked my sticky fingers.

“Hundred and twenty-seven,” Ralph said.

I looked at his sister. “What about you?”

She looked at Ralph, then at me, then at the box. “Hunnerd and...twenty-eight.”

I had no idea but I told them, “Wow, very close, both of you,
very
close. Try again. Only, this time I’m gonna need a nickel first, you know how it is.”

Ralph said they had to be going.

“Wait,” I said. “Ever see a woman’s titties? Five cents.”

He said he didn’t have it.

“All right, for free.” I lifted up my T-shirt. “Check ‘em out.”

Lou looked at her brother. He just stood there staring.

“Think I oughta wear a bra?” I said.

They didn’t laugh, either one of them.

They’re a little weird, those two.

Ralph

I saw a picture of some bare-chested native ladies in a magazine this kid Bob Carlisle was showing everyone at the park one day, and I saw my mom once when I walked into her room without knocking and she turned away too late, but those weren’t sins, either one, because I didn’t mean to see, but I never saw a
boy
with breasts before and I couldn’t help staring. It wasn’t something Lou should be looking at though, so I snapped out of it and dragged her back to the wagon.

He wanted to know where we were headed.

“Vacant lot,” I told him.

Lou got in again.

“For bottles?” he said.

I nodded yeah.

He offered us a nickel if we wagoned him there and back. He said he wanted to get some baseball cards at Morgan’s—that’s the drug store just past the vacant lot—and if we took him in the wagon there and back he’d give us five cents.

“Each?” I said.

He asked me if I was out of my mind.

I started leaving.

“All right, all right,” he said.

I stopped. “All right what?”

“A dime.”

I looked at Lou.

She nodded.

I told him okay, deal.

“Lemme put these away,” he said, and started stacking his boxes. I counted seven. Seven boxes of baseball cards.

I don’t get it.

“And put some shoes on,” Lou told him. He was wearing house slippers.

He gave her a look. He had all seven boxes in his arms now, with his chin on top, and he stood there giving Lou a long dirty look.

She looked at me.

I shrugged.

He went inside, looking back at her.

So now we had to wait for him. Then we’d have to wagon him all the way there and all the way back. I wasn’t even sure if we could, he’s so fat. You should see.

But ten cents. That was five empty bottles right there.

Lou

He’s like a great big fat giant pig and pink like one too.

Probably because he eats so much. That’s what happens, you turn into a giant pig. He probably doesn’t even
like
being so fat, with titties. He probably wishes he
wasn’t
so fat. So that’s why I said we should eat his toast and jam for him. I told Ralph, I said it would be a
good
thing for us to do because then
he
wouldn’t eat it and that was why he was so fat, from eating so much.

Ralph shook his head. “Don’t.”

But I said we should try and help him and got out of the wagon.

Ralph said, “Lou.”

But that was
all
he said.

I went up to the porch, quick, and up the steps.

Two for Ralph and two for me.

I left the plate.

Toby

I went to my room and slid the boxes under the bed and got out of my slippers and into my sneakers—which I was going to do anyway, I didn’t need some greasy little smart-mouthed kid telling me. Then I had to tie them, which is hard for me, with my stomach, the size of it. That’s why I wear slippers a lot.

I could have just had them
buy
me a pack, just give them a dime—five cents for the cards, five for their trouble—but I didn’t trust them. They look like little thieves, the two of them. Little gypsy thieves.

Mom was in the basement with the vacuum cleaner going, getting everything spick and span to welcome the bomb. Her motto’s in a frame on the kitchen wall, each letter sewed on perfect:

CLEANLINESS

IS NEXT TO

GODLINESS

Which, let’s face it, is probably just something clean people made up. You could do that with anything:

CHUBBINESS

IS NEXT TO

GODLINESS

So after I got my sneakers tied I did something kind of mean, just to punish her. Sometimes I can’t help myself. I got up on the chair, standing on it. Then I jumped down.

Boom!

The vacuum cleaner right away stopped running and she started shouting,
“Mother of God, Mother of God!”

So then I felt bad. “That was me!” I yelled.

She didn’t say anything.

“Ma?”

She still didn’t say anything.

“You okay?”

The vacuum cleaner went on again.

Poor thing.

Ralph

That was the best jam I ever had in my whole life.

I told Lou no, don’t take his toast, but then I went ahead and ate my share, two pieces. The jam was strawberry and there were these
chunks
in it, chunks of actual strawberries. My mom got
Smuckers
once and that was really good, but
this
—I didn’t even know there
was
jam like this. The toast was
heavy
with it, sagging in the middle, that’s how chunky.

Too bad we had to eat it so fast.

Toby

I went back out on the porch. They were still waiting there, obedient, Ralph holding the wagon handle, Lou at the other end ready to push. Only one thing wrong, one little thing.

My toast was missing.

There were four pieces left when I went in the house—I was planning to take them with me, to tide me over—and now there were just some crumbs on the plate.

What did I tell you about those two?

They were both looking at me all innocent, except for the streaks of jam around their mouths, and the little one even had her cheeks still bulging out.

I shook my head. I just stood there shaking my head, like it made me sad, you know? The way some people can’t be trusted? It made me very sad, it really did.

I gave a sad sigh and came on down and walked on over to the wagon, telling them, “Guess what, people. You just spent your dime.”

They didn’t say anything, either one.

I got in the wagon. My butt just fit. “All right,” I said. “Let’s roll.”

Ralph tried pulling normal, but that didn’t work. He had to walk backwards, both hands on the handle, leaning back as far as he could, while behind me the little one was grunting and groaning away. It’s only a couple of blocks but it was going to take a while, grinding along, which was fine with me.

This was nice.

Sitting there with my knees up, looking around, I was thinking how great it would be if I was, like,
emperor
, you know?

Emperor Tobias.

I think I’d make a pretty good one.

Ralph

We were working as hard as we could—me pulling, Lou pushing—and all he did was sit there enjoying the scenery, like this was ordinary, the most ordinary thing, having slaves. When we finally got to the curb I was glad how hard he got bounced going down.

“Hey,”
he said.

But after we crossed the street we couldn’t get the wagon
up
the curb. We were gritting our teeth and growling like dogs, but we couldn’t do it. Meanwhile he’s sitting there cheering us on, going,
“Heeeave...heeeav
e...”

I finally asked him, “How ‘bout getting out for a second?”

He tapped his temple, meaning
Good thinking for an idiot
, and got out, and I pulled the wagon over the curb—what a difference. But before he got in again he asked Lou in a polite way if she would pull his finger for him.

“Don’t,” I told her.

Too late.

Lou

His butt exploded. I jumped back.

He laughed and laughed, with tears coming down. “Did you think...tell the truth...did you think...that was the
Russians?
” he said, and he laughed some more.

We waited for him to finish.

He finally did, with a big sigh. “Be that as it may,” he said, and got in again.

We went on.

I was still pushing, but along the side now.

Toby

I was starting to like these two. They had a lot of spunk, you know? I was wishing I could keep them. That wasn’t possible, I knew that, but still.

We were moving real slow, like a Rose Bowl float, past a woman sitting on her front steps peeling an orange and listening to the radio. I could hear a news guy. I heard the name “Khrushchev.”

That’s the head of Russia, Nikita Khrushchev, the guy trying to wipe us out. Ever see him, what he looks like? Talk about ugly. And his
wife
, oh my God. There’s a picture of them in one of my mom’s magazines, along with President Kennedy and Jackie. What a difference. Makes you proud to be an American.

I held up a V for victory as we passed the lady’s porch, which took a while. She had a sliver of orange halfway to her mouth, staring at this gigantic boy being hauled along by these two undernourished-looking things. You could see she was thinking,
What the...?

I laughed and nodded at her: “I
know...
I
know.
”

Ralph

I started thinking what if we’re in Hell.

What if they already dropped the bomb and we didn’t know it, we were dead so fast, and now we’re in Hell for stealing his toast and this is our punishment, we have to drag him up and down the sidewalk, forever.

Sister Michael Denise says that’s the hardest part about Hell to imagine, the forever part, because everything we know has an ending but Hell
never
ends
.

“Children, when does Hell end?”

“Never, Sister.”

“Never...
ever.
”

So I was thinking that’s where we were, and as soon as we got to the drug store we’d have to turn around and drag him all the way back to his porch, and when we got to his porch we’d have to turn around and drag him to the drug store again, and after a thousand years, after a
million
years, we’d still be doing this, still be dragging Fatso back and forth.

“How ‘bout this
weather
we’re having,” he said. “Beautiful, isn’t it? For this time of year?”

I didn’t say.

“Hey, I’m
talking
to you.”

Lou

I was thinking,
We’re bringing this boy to Our Lady, this big sad giant fatboy, so she can cure him and he won’t be so fat anymore, so he won’t be so sad...

But he was just sitting there looking around, whistling through his teeth.