Free Little Boy Blues by Mary Jane Maffini Page B

liked company. Gussie followed me over, wagged his or her tail, and managed to get stuck in the door.
    “Let Gussie in, though I have to tell you, that dog farts something awful,” Loretta said, slipping Gussie a few pretzels.
    “We’ve been having the most interesting conversations,” Mrs. Parnell said, lighting up.
    “I bet,” I said.
    “Took her long enough to get over here, didn’t it, Dad?” Loretta said, giving me an arched red eyebrow.
    “Indeed it did.”
    “I would have preferred to be here earlier, trust me. What have you done with Alvin?”
    “He’s tucked in upstairs, resting quietly,” Mrs. Parnell said. “We’ll let him be.”
    “I suppose they had you in a headlock. Filling you full of their opinions about poor Allie. If you’d any brains, you’d of jumped out of the window and run for it.”
    “She’s here now, Mum. So, girl. Feel like a slug of something before dinner?” Donald Donnie said.
    “I’m okay, thanks. I need to be able to think straight.”
    “All right, if you think that will help.” Loretta found this almost as hilarious as Donald Donnie did. Even Mrs. Parnell flashed an evil grin.
    “You doing all right next door?” Loretta deposited a large blue plastic bowl of salt and vinegar potato chips within easy reach.
    “They’re very kind,” I said, lying through my teeth. It didn’t seem right to trash the Fergusons when they were giving me a room, even though it came with a high psychological price.
    “I never knew them to be kind, did you, Dad?”
    “Indeed, I never did, Mum. Are you sure about that?”
    “Smart as whips, the lot of them. But kind? That’s a new one.”
    That’s where you get when you try a harmless social lie. Caught up in a web of deceit.
    “How are they being kind? Exactly?” Loretta said.
    “You know, offering food and everything.” I now needed to change the subject and fast.
    Donald Donnie was shaking his head. “Kind. Isn’t that amazing. Must be the shock of Jimmy being missing.”
    “You know, I think it is.” I helped myself to a hefty mouthful of chips so I wouldn’t have to invent details of the Fergusons’ alleged kindness.
    “Loretta and Donald Donnie have lived here for thirty-five years. Did you know that, Camilla?”
    I pointed at my mouth and raised my eyebrows to indicate interest. I wished I was home in Ottawa, where I could be rude to strangers without the worry that they could retaliate and squeal to my father.
    “They watched all those children grow up.” Mrs. Parnell looked from one to the other and raised her glass. Donald Donnie was splashing Harvey’s Bristol Cream into it.
    “Yes, we did,” Loretta said. “Didn’t we, Dad?”
    “Indeed, Mum.”
    I had managed to swallow by this time. “You know, Alvin is distraught over Jimmy. We are really worried about him.”
    “You should be. He’s the best of the whole lot. Isn’t he, Dad?”
    “You know he is.”
    This was good news. Here we had a double-barrelled source of information that wasn’t too crazy about the Fergusons and had a soft spot for Alvin. And they were related to me, however distantly, so they might cut me some slack.
    “You know I think I will have a splash of something after all,” I said. “Rum and coke if you have it.”
    Donald Donnie moved with lightning speed to fill that order. “You’ll not have had one of those next door. Dry as a Sunday sermon.”
    “Now, Dad, remember the time of it she had with the husband.”
    “Twenty years he’s been gone, Mum. Surely to God she could have a drink in the house.”
    “Alvin is really cut up about this. We can’t leave him without knowing what’s wrong. I bet the two of you could give me some helpful insights,” I said firmly.
    Mrs. Parnell interjected. “Loretta and Donald Donnie tell me that Alvin was deeply affected by Jimmy’s accident, as we suspected.”
    “Never had an easy life, that boy. Not since that day,” Loretta said, squinting as she lit a cigarette. “Has