Chapter 19 Miss Thurma

My mother's next appointment, she said, was to visit a guy who lived in what we call a bungalow.Most of the houses in this area are connected in a row, where poor people live.I was sure we had to drive there, but just as I was about to ask her, the doorbell rang. Charlie, can you answer the door?Mother puts a plate in the sink. I hesitated.I don't want to open the door to let anyone in, and I don't want to answer the phone.Mother said again: Charlie, will you answer the door?I stood up and walked slowly to the door. I said to myself, nothing will happen.However, as soon as my hand touched the doorknob, I suddenly felt a gust of wind blur my face, making me unable to see anything.A wave of light hit, and a man's voice rang out, the voice of the man who called Rose's house.It growled.

Charles.Bernato!listen!I am the police! It was like a storm.The sound was so close, so close that I could almost touch it. Charles, can you hear me?I am the police! I staggered back, covering my face with my hands.The light is gone.The wind died down.All I could hear was my rough breathing.I looked around for my mother, who was still standing by the sink.The scene just now happened only in my head. I waited for a few seconds and took three long breaths before turning the doorknob carefully.My eyes dropped, waiting to see the policeman who had just yelled at me.For some reason, this policeman was very young in my imagination.

When I looked up, I saw an old black lady.She wears glasses with a chain attached to the frame, which goes around her neck.She has disheveled hair and a lighted cigarette dangling from her mouth. Cheek oh, is that you?She said: Look who has grown so big. We all called her Miss Therma.She used to clean the house for us.She was thin, with narrow shoulders, a wide grin, and a quick temper.She dyed her hair orange and never left her cigarettes, Lucky cigarettes.She puts her cigarettes in her shirt pocket like a man.She grew up in Alabama and ended up in Pipeville Beach.Here in Pipeville Beach, in the late 1950s, every family in our neighborhood hired someone like her to help out.People call them housekeepers, but in truth they call them maids.My father used to pick her up from the bus stop near Horn's on Saturday mornings; he would pay her when he went out during the day.He passed the folded bills past her hip, as if neither of them should see them.When we were out playing baseball, she spent the whole day cleaning the house.When I get home, my room will be spotless whether I like it or not.

My mother insisted we call her Miss Therma, I remember that.I also remember she wouldn't let us into the room she had just vacuumed.I remember she would sometimes play catch with me in the back yard and she could throw it as hard as I could. It was she who inadvertently invented my nickname.My dad used to want to call me Chuck, but my mother hated it, she said: Chuck?The name sounds like a cattleman on a ranch!But, because I used to be yelling Ma or Roberta into the house in the backyard, one day Miss Therma looked up and looked up and said, "Boy, you're looking like a cat at the top of your voice like that." Rooster.Chuck whoops!My younger sister, who is not yet in elementary school, said: Chick Whoa!Cheek Whoo!In the end, for some reason, the word Chick survived.I think that made my father not like Miss Therma so much.

Percy, she grinned and said to my mother: I think of you often. Thanks.my mother said. I really think about you a lot. She turned around and faced me. Cheek Whoops, now I can't play crap with you.She laughed: I'm too old. We get into her car.I guess, we took her car to go to the bungalow area.Mother was going to do Miss Therma's hair.This thing feels a little weird.Yet I know very little about my mother's life over the past ten years.I was stuck in the ups and downs of my life and couldn't get out. Our car moves forward.I looked out the car window and saw a human figure for the first time.A haggard old man with a silver beard walked to his garage with a rake in his hand.The mother waved to the old man, and he waved back.A woman with hair the color of vanilla ice cream sat on her porch in house clothes.Mother waved to her too.She waves.

We went on for a while, and then came to a narrower street, and the road was a little bumpier.We then turned onto a gravel road and came to a double house.The house has a covered porch flanked by doors to the basement which are in dire need of painting.There are several cars parked in the driveway.A bicycle was on its side on the front yard.Miss Therma parked the car and turned off the engine. We go inside.The bedrooms had wood-slatted walls and an olive-green carpet.The beds are of an old fashioned design with a pole to hang the bed net on each side of the bed.Miss Thermer threw herself down suddenly on the bed, leaning against two pillows.

What happened?I asked my mother. She shook her head, as if to say: Don't ask now.Then, she started to take out the things in her handbag.I heard several children yelling from another room, the faint sound of the TV, and the sound of plates being removed from the dining table. They all thought I was sleeping.Miss Therma whispered. She looked into my mother's eyes. Percy, I appreciate you doing this for me.This troubles you to start? certainly.mother replied. ◆◆◆ When I didn't stand up for my mother I didn't tell her that I saw my father.At the next ball game, my father appeared again.He nodded at me as I walked to home plate.This time I nodded to him too, very lightly, but I nodded.I played that game three times and scored three times.I hit a home run, plus two doubles.

We maintained this contact over the next few weeks.He sat there, watching.I swing like the ball is two feet wide.Until one day I hit two home runs in a road game and he was waiting for me by our team bus after the game.He wore a white turtleneck over a blue windbreaker.I noticed that his sideburns were graying.He saw me and lifted his chin, as if resisting the fact that I was taller than him.His first words were: Go ask your coach if I can drive you back to school. At this moment, I can do anything.I can spit on it.I can tell him, go to hell.I can ignore him just as he ignores us. I can say something about mothers.

But I have neither.I did as he asked.I asked the coach to let me go home without the bus.He respects the authority of the coach and I respect the authority of the father.When we all act like men, the world makes sense. I do not know.Percy, Miss Therma said: It will take a miracle. She holds a small mirror in her hand.The mother took out several bottles and jars and jewelry boxes from the bag. This is my miracle bag.she says. Yeah?Do you have a cure for cancer in your bag? Mother picked up a bottle.I have lotion. Miss Therma smiled. Percy, you think that's silly, don't you? what's the matter with you darling

I mean, isn't it silly to wish you looked better at this point in time? If you are asking this, there is nothing wrong with me saying that. You see, my kids are there, that's all.And their children.I want them to see me in good health, you understand?I don't want them to see me like a rag and worry about me. Mother put lotion on Miss Therma's face and massaged it in small circles. You will never look like a rotten rag. Say more of that, Percy. They laughed again. Sometimes I miss those Saturdays.Miss Thurma said. We were really happy then.mother said. We were really happy then.Miss Therma agreed.

She closes her eyes.My mother's hands continued to work. Cheek Whoa, your mom is the best buddy I've ever had. I'm not sure what she meant by that. Have you ever worked in that beauty salon?I said. We had fun back then, right? Mother grinned. no.Miss Thurma said: "No matter how hard I try, I can't make anyone look good. Mother capped the lotion bottle and picked up another small jar.She opened the lid and dipped something into the jar with a small sponge. What are you talking about?I said: I don't understand. She held up the sponge with the look of an artist about to apply paint to canvas. I clean the house with her, Charlie.she says. Seeing the look on my face, she shook her finger at me, signaling that the subject could be over. What do you think I paid for the two of you to go to college? By my sophomore year, I had ten pounds more muscle than when I first entered college.My striking ability reflects this.I was in the top fifty college players in the nation in batting average.Due to my father's constant urging, I entered several tournaments.These games provide a window for professional scouts, these elderly men, cigars and laptops, sitting in the stands.One day, one of them came up to us after the game. This is your son?he asked my father. Father nodded suspiciously.The other party has thinning hair, a big nose, and a thin coat that reveals the color of underwear. I'm from the St. Louis Cardinals. I want to burst out from under my own skin. We might have a catcher opening. Yeah?said father. We will keep an eye on your child to see if he is interested. The man sniffed deeply, and the sound was wet and noisy.He took out his handkerchief and blew his nose. But, my father said: Pittsburgh has internal plumbing.They've been watching him for a while. The man examines my father's jaw.Father's jaw is moving, chewing gum. Yeah?said the man. To me, this is all news.After the man left, I posed a barrage of questions to my father.When did it happen?Is that guy serious?Are Pittsburgh really paying attention to me? Maybe they are really paying attention to you.He said: Whether they pay attention or not, you have to do it, Cheek.You stay in these cages, follow the coaches, keep preparing, bide your time.Let me handle other things. I followed him and nodded.My mind was spinning rapidly. What about the school? He scratched his chin.What happened to school? My mother's face flashed in my mind, the way she walked around the library with me that day.I try not to think about it. St. Louis Cardinals.Father said these words slowly.His shoes sank into the grass.Then, he grinned.I feel so, so proud that I get goosebumps.He asked me if I wanted a beer and I said yes.So we went and drank; drank like men together. There was a game and Dad came. I'm on the phone in my dorm.It had been a long time since the first appearance of the father.But I never worked up the courage to tell her until now. It took my mother a while to say: Oh. He comes alone.I hasten to add this sentence.For some reason, this sentence seems to be important. did you tell your sister No. There was another silence. Don't let anything interfere with your studies, Charlie. Will not. Studies are the most important thing. I know. Education is everything, Charlie.Only by being educated can we make ourselves do something. I've been waiting for something else.I'm waiting to hear something about some kind of unpleasant story behind something that went horribly wrong.I was waiting for what all children of divorced parents are waiting for; I was waiting for evidence to tip my balance so that the ground tipped so that I had to choose one side and discard the other.However, my mother never talked about why my father left.Not once did she take the bait that Roberta and I hung before her: she gave us no reason to hate or resent.She just suffers.She swallowed the words, swallowed the dialogue.No matter what happened between them, she just swallowed it all. It's okay to meet dad by yourself, right? Dad meets me.She corrects my grammar. Dad meets me.I became angry from embarrassment: can I? She took a breath. You are not a child anymore, Charlie. Why do I feel like a child? Looking back at that time now, I realize that there are too many things that I didn't know.I don't know how she feels about it, whether she's angry or scared.Of course I didn't know that when my father and I drank beer, part of the family's expenses were paid by my mother cleaning other people's houses.She was helping with a woman who used to clean our house. I watched them both in the bedroom.Miss Thurma sat up straight with the pillows on her back.Mother uses a makeup sponge and eyeliner. why don't you tell meI asked. tell you what?mother said. Say you have to, you know, say you have to for the money mop the floor?do the laundry?Mother giggled: I don't know why I didn't say it.Maybe it's because of the way you look at me now. She sighed: Your pride has always been strong, Charlie. I don't.I snapped back. She raised her eyebrows, turned around, and continued to make up Miss Therma.She whispered: Say what you want. Don't look like this!I said. what does it look like What do you say?Don't say such things. I didn't say anything, Charlie. you said so! Don't yell. I don't have a particularly strong self-esteem!I just because My voice broke.What am I doing?After finally spending half a day with my dead mother, we still have to quarrel like before? There's no shame in doing the work that has to be done, Cheek.Miss Thurma said: "I'll just do what I've been doing.At that time your mother asked: How about it, what's the idea?I said: Percy, you want to be a housewife?She said: Therma, if you're just a cleaning lady cleaning the house, why should I be higher than the cleaning lady?Percy, do you remember? Mother took a breath. I didn't say why. Miss Therma laughed heartily.Yes, you didn't say that.I'm pretty sure.You didn't say why. They were both laughing.Mother paints the bags under Therma's eyes. Do not move.she says.But they couldn't stop laughing. I think mom should remarry.Roberta said. When I was in college, I called home from school once, and Roberta answered the phone. what are you saying? She is still beautiful.But no one can be beautiful forever.She is not as slender as she used to be. She doesn't want to get married. how do you know? Roberta, she doesn't need to get married, you understand? If she doesn't find someone soon, there will be no one. do not talk. She's still wearing a corset, Charlie.I saw. What does this have to do with me?Roberta!God! When you go to college, you think you are great. Stop talking. Have you ever heard the song, Yummy, Yummy, Yummy?I think this song is stupid.Why do they keep playing this song? She talked to you about remarrying? Maybe. Roberta, I am seriously asking you.What did she say? Didn't say anything, is that okay?But who knows where Dad died.Mom shouldn't be alone all day. Don't say those nasty things. I can say whatever I want, Charlie.You are not my boss. She is fifteen years old.I am twenty years old.She doesn't know her father at all.But I have seen my father and spoken to him.Roberta wants my mother to be happy; I want my mother to be what she is.Nine years have passed since that Saturday morning when my mother crushed the breakfast cereal in her palm.Nine years have passed since we were once a complete family. In college, I took a Latin class.One day, the word divorce came into view.I always thought the root of the word was to divide: in fact, the root of the word to divorce is divertere, which means to divert. Now I believe it.The divorce thing does nothing but turn you around, take you away, take you away from everything you think you know, think you want to have, and push you into all sorts of other things, like talking to your sister. Talk about your mother wearing a corset, and discuss whether she should marry someone else.