Free The Evening News by Tony Ardizzone Page B

fallen to the end of his nose.
    Confetti, I’d cry. Wheeeee.
    He’d jump, laugh his big laugh, pick up his big boy and kiss me.
    Transfer confetti, wheeeee, a sip of his coffee, some horseyback.
    â€œThaddeus!”
    â€œThaddeus, your mother’s calling you, Thaddeus.”
    â€œYou take care of this. He’s your duty this time.”
    â€œBut, Sarah—”
    â€œHe respects you. Now where’d he go?”
    â€œHe probably doesn’t even know that what he’s been doing is—”
    â€œDoesn’t know?”
    â€œHe’s a little fella, Sarah, he—”
    â€œHe has to be punished. He has to learn. Thaddeus!”
    â€œThaddeus!”
    â€œThaddeus, this is so good I can’t believe you wrote it.”
    â€œAll by myself, Marsha.”
    â€œHow long did it take you?”
    â€œOh, only a couple of hours—”
    A couple of beers, no more, dead, the cans even warm now, must take a look, I’ll be back
    in a second, and you didn’t even notice I had gone. The kitchen is one-and-a-half small steps the short way, and three big steps the long, assuming I could walk through the refrigerator,which I did, looking in the back by the coils where Stuart, ha ha ha, had hidden a bottle; so make yourself comfortable, my dear reader, we’re in for a good one this evening.
    (Though I never told you about the rain.)
    But let’s not spoil it now.
    â€œSisters, are you still with us?”
    Well, wake them up then.
    â€œCould you lead us in a prayer? His sun has set behind His clouds.”
    Please bow your head.
    â€œAll rise.”
    And I agree, though I must tell you I found Stuart’s bottle around the time I began telling you about the dime, remember, and none of you noticed, not even my pencil, and Stuart’s excellent fifth is now halved, which makes it a tenth, and Sisters, that was indeed a most beautiful prayer.
    Where to now? More questions? Yes, just speak up. And, hey, somebody in here open a window. Hasn’t it gotten suddenly stuffy?
    â€œThaddeus, we’ve noticed somewhat of a shift here from the story you began about your relationship with Marsha toward—”
    Turn on a light. Better.
    â€œâ€”a rather nostalgic stance and preoccupation with your dead—”
    As my father always used to say, “From the rear, buddy, step lively now, unless you’re a veteran of a foreign war all exits from the rear.” By this he meant that if you haven’t gone the distance yourself and can’t show the scars to prove it, you really shouldn’t defecate out your vocal cords. Got it?
    The pompous ass. He notices that I’ve turned down a side-street, and he’s worried I haven’t a map. I know where I go. Unlike Stuart, who, incidentally, no longer has claim to this fine bottle, seeing how Jo moved out in such a hurry and a huff.
    â€œToo much of Thaddeus around here Marsha take my word oh me oh my you could do so much better and he isn’t even a student he has no future he’s just an overblown braggart who sweeps the floors in his mother’s restaurant and is constantly mooching.”
    The jealous bitch. Wanting my virtue. Hey, down there. Hanging Johnny, my amazing one-eyed wonder worm. No, wait.
    â€œSisters, would you kindly turn away?”
    All clear, and, my, you’re badly wrinkled. What’s the matter, son, are you catching cold?
    â€œHey, somebody. Shut that goddamn window.”
    Is that any better? Say now, turkey neck, you look blue. Let’s bring you over here to the light. Have a closer look.
    Say aaaah.
    You’re in the pink.
    Let’s have a look at you now.
    A bit grimy, wouldn’t you say? Hasn’t your mother ever told you that you should wash behind your ears? What’s that?
    You say you’ve no reason to?
    Turn around here, mate, and take a gander at that bed. You know who sleeps there? Sure you do. You’ve met her a few