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Authors: Nancy Hartry

Watching Jimmy (7 page)

BOOK: Watching Jimmy
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M
rs. MacGregor suggests that I wait while she fetches Andrew. I pick up the rake she’s left leaning against the maple tree and begin rasp rasp rasping another pile. Would my mom like the whole idea? Would Uncle Ted throw Andrew out on his ear? I am playing a game of twenty questions when Andrew comes around the corner of the church with Mrs. MacGregor. His head, covered in black curlicues and absorbed in her every word, leans down toward Mrs. MacGregor’s snow-white one. He moves like a dancer, lightly on the balls of his feet. I don’t realize how big he is until he stands in front of me.

“This is Carolyn, lad, the girl I’ve been telling you about.”

Andrew turns gray eyes on me and I have a flash of what it might be like to oppose him in the ring. He scares me, but then a great chuckle forms in his chest and rises up to make crinkles around his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, Carolyn. I hear you’ve got a job for me to do.”

His smile knocks my breath clean away. I can’t talk for the longest time until he taps my shoulder.

“Oh. A job. Yes. Well, it’s more like babysitting, except Jimmy isn’t a baby. And it’s not up to me, really. You’ll have to talk to … well … I guess Jimmy’s Uncle. Uncle Ted.”

“Anything I should know about this Uncle Ted?” Andrew has his hands in his front pockets and is rolling up on his toes. I glance at Mrs. MacGregor.

“No-o-o. Not really. Ted is just a … well, Ted.”

Mrs. MacGregor takes the rake out of my hands. Andrew shifts a canvas pack from one shoulder to the other like he’s flicking a fly off his back. “Well, then. Why don’t we just go and see the man about a job? Thanks, Mrs. MacGregor. I’ll call you and tell you how I make out.”

I’m so dithered, I forget to say good-bye to Mrs. MacGregor. “Well, uhmm, well, I don’t think Ted’s home yet. Ted’s in plumbing supplies, you know, for homes
and buildings and such. With all the new subdivisions being built, he’s doing pretty well. I mean he drives a Thunderbird. Everybody calls him Uncle Ted.” I’m babbling again.

“Wow. A Thunderbird. Neat-o…. So, what’s your friend Jimmy like?”

I have to look away. I can feel my throat begin to close up because of his kindness. It has been a long time since anyone showed any interest in meeting our Jimmy. I can’t speak. I keep my head turned away from Andrew and motion him to follow me. I feel like the pied piper leading the way to Aunt Jean’s front door.

“This is it!” I shove it open.

Mom is in the kitchen peeling apples, and Jimmy is lying on the braided rug at her feet. He has his hand over his eyes and is watching the light from the ceiling fixture between the slits of his fingers.


MMM — NN-NNN
,” he bellows.

“What’s that, honey?” Mom tickles him with the toe of her slipper.

Andrew slips the bag off his shoulder and to the floor. He walks toward Jimmy and kneels down beside him.

“Hi, there, Jimmy. Are you looking at the moon?”


MMMMM-NN-NNNN
!” Jimmy is excited because Andrew has understood what he’s been saying.

The paring knife falls from my mother’s hand and clatters in the sink.

“Gracious! You scared me to death. And who might you be?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, Mrs. Jamieson Mrs. MacGregor sent me over to help watch Jimmy.” Andrew shakes my mother’s hand, but his eyes are for Jimmy. It’s as if Jimmy is the only person that matters in the room, and it is left to me to whisper the details of the plan to my mom. Andrew puts his hands over his own eyes and peeks through his fingers at the ceiling fixture.

“Yes, Jimmy, I think that’s the moon. A full moon. A real beaut.”

My mom steps away and Andrew lies down on the kitchen floor. Jimmy scrunches closer to him and puts his head on Andrew’s shoulder.

“My, goodness. I’ve never seen Jimmy take to anybody so quickly have you, Carolyn?”

I stand there like a guppy Not since his accident or even before, has Jimmy taken to someone like this. For a second, I feel jealous of Andrew and how he has touched
Jimmy’s heart so quickly. I’m prideful, as I said. And then Andrew motions me over and there we are, the three of us, lying on the kitchen floor, looking at the moon. Mooning over the moon, in Aunt Jean’s kitchen.

I can tell my mom likes Andrew. We carry on madly as we lug his stuff up to my old room at Aunt Jean’s place.

Jimmy tries to help as we change the sheets on my bed. We all land on the bed laughing, laughing, laughing so hard, I think my stomach will burst, or I’ll wet my pants. We are laughing so hard, we don’t hear Uncle Ted creep up the stairs. We don’t notice him standing at the entrance of the bedroom. Not until Jimmy starts wailing and trying to hide himself under the bed.

“And what the hell is going on in here?”

I almost choke. It’s what I said to Ted yesterday, almost exactly, minus “the hell” part.

Mom straightens her skirt.

“I said, what the hell is going on in here?”

“Gracious, Ted. I don’t think there’s any call for that kind of language. The kids were having so much fun we didn’t hear you. Many hands make light work, you know. They are helping make up Andrew’s bed. Oh. You don’t know anything about this, do you now, Ted? Meet
Andrew Granger. He comes well recommended by Mr. MacGregor at St. Olave’s. Isn’t it wonderful? He’s looking for a place to rent and has volunteered to look after Jimmy until Jean is on her feet.” Mom smiles brightly. “Now Jimmy won’t have to put you out at all. So, say hello. And will you stay to dinner? The minister and his wife are coming.” I think Mom will never take a breath.

If looks could kill. Gas fumes seem to be coming from Ted’s nose. Andrew holds out his hand first, and Ted swats it away.

“Jean doesn’t need any Christian charity from you or the church.
I
, for one, know my family obligations.”

My mother steps forward. “It’s nothing like that, Ted. This opportunity just fell from heaven and I couldn’t pass it up. It’s all settled. Andrew is moving into Carolyn’s room, here. And Carolyn and I will take over Jean’s room. It’s all been arranged. Jean is so happy to have the rent money from Andrew’s lodging….”

I can’t believe what is coming from my mother’s mouth. Did she just decide on the spot that we’d take over Aunt Jean’s bedroom? Aunt Jean can’t possibly know anything about Andrew.

“And I’m very glad to get room and board, sir….”

“I bet you are, you interfering son-of-a—”

I know what is coming next. The purplish veins on Ted’s nose look fit to burst, but he doesn’t actually get to say a swear. Jimmy saves the day. He lets go a long and noisy fluff, which would have sent Jimmy and I into hysterics in the olden days before the accident. A black look of disgust passes over Ted’s face to be replaced by a look that says as much
as you’re welcome to the little so-and-so
. Ted turns on his heel and stomps down the stairs like he might snap each riser. The door slams so hard, the windows rattle.

“Do it again, Jimmy! Make a stinker!” Andrew tickles Jimmy’s tummy. Another fluff, and we all fall on the newly made double bed. Even Mom.

It is all made funnier by the relief of it all.

Andrew can stay.

It turns out that the minister and Mrs. MacGregor aren’t really coming for dinner at all. Mom says she made a little white lie to get Ted out of the house, and that she didn’t really think Mr. MacGregor would mind. But as it turns out, it isn’t quite a lie, after all, because Mr. MacGregor drops by for tea and cookies before he goes back home, just to see how we are all getting along. He even brings the cookies.

I could have hugged and kissed him, but I’m not the touching type. Partway through his visit, I notice that the knot of fear that has been growing in my stomach like a fur ball is gone.

For the moment, the clenching is gone. And now, as I look back, I wonder. If I hadn’t let go of that clenching, would I have been better prepared for the next blow?

The jury’s out. Maybe yes. Maybe no.

W
e settle into a nice little routine at Aunt Jean’s. Between Andrew, Mom, and me, there are comings and goings all day and all night long. The only person who stays in place is Jimmy. For two weeks, there’s no sign of Ted. Two Thursdays come and go and no Ted. I feel free enough to go to choir practice, confident that there will always be somebody to protect Jimmy. The adult choristers fuss over and pet me. Being the only kid, I’m an oddity. A specialty. I feel more at ease with them than any other people in the universe.

My solo performances in the choir somehow seem to help my public speaking. It’s strange really. Everything is forward-looking — practicing carols for Christmas. Practicing my speech for November 11
th
. I don’t really
remember much about Thanksgiving, except at dinner Ted had too much to drink and made remarks that Mom said were very inappropriate. Something about the meal being the Last Supper. After that, Ted stopped coming over every Thursday.

You might think that I’m glad not to see his ugly face. I am, but now I have to worry every day of the week about when he might pop up. At least before, I could relax until Ted-day My mom says I’m like a border collie, always nipping at her heels and Andrew’s heels to make sure that someone is going to be at home for Jimmy. Always.

On two Saturdays, Jimmy and I walk over to St. Joseph’s Hospital. My mom has arranged with Aunt Jean that she’ll sit in the lounge at one o’clock and Jimmy and I will be outside on the lawn. I count up five storeys and along to the end window. I point out Aunt Jean to Jimmy and he is so excited. We wave and wave and do goofy stuff on the lawn, like somersaults and play sword fighting. We try to put on a show for Aunt Jean to amuse her. She looks like an old lady up there sitting in a rocking chair watching us but, of course, she’s in a wheelchair. My mom says that Aunt Jean is recovering well from her operation, but she’ll have to rest when she comes home.

Her homecoming day is crazy with housecleaning. Jimmy picks up on the excitement, even though we don’t tell him what is going to happen. Andrew’s in charge of moving the furniture and I dust and vacuum. Jimmy tears around the place like a terrier, getting into trouble and in the way.

My mom makes homemade bread and Scotch broth for nourishment. There’s a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies and some old-fashioned current scones. And butter tarts.

Everything looks quite sparkly for Aunt Jean’s arrival. Jimmy and I cut some snapdragons that are growing beside the house and have managed to escape the frost. We arrange them in a pint milk bottle and place them on the kitchen table. It all looks very homey.

Ted picks up Aunt Jean in his car and brings her home. He and Andrew make a seat with their hands and lift Aunt Jean up the stairs and onto the verandah. Once there, she shoos them away.

“I can enter my
own
house under my
own
steam, thank you very much.” She wavers at the threshold of the front hall, gripping the doorjamb for support.

Jimmy is sitting on the stairs playing jacks.


Mm-ahn
!” he bellows. I grab his braces and hold on, fearful that he will run at Aunt Jean and knock her down. She’s so skinny and pale, her legs like Popsicle sticks peeking out from a black wool skirt. But her face softens when she sees Jimmy and tears stream down her face. Her lips are moving, but I can’t hear the words because of Jimmy’s bawling.

“Sit down Jimmy!” I haul him down on the last stair and half sit on him to keep him in place. “Jimmy, let Aunt Jean get into the kitchen! If you knock her over, you’ll land her right back into the hospital and we can’t afford that, can we?” I can hear a chair scraping on the linoleum in the kitchen as Aunt Jean settles.

Andrew comes back to the vestibule for Jimmy. He lifts him in the air, clamping Jimmy’s flailing arms to his side. Then he swoops Jimmy’s face down close to Aunt Jean’s head. She grabs that poor boy’s neck and smothers him with kisses. Wet, teary kisses.

Jimmy bellows.

“Mommy has a hurt,” says Andrew. “Gentle. Gentle.” Andrew lets go of one of Jimmy’s hands and guides it to Aunt Jean’s shoulder. Jimmy paws at her shoulder making
sure she’s real. My mom helps Jean off with her hat and coat. Her galoshes.

“Will you stay for dinner, Ted?” my mother asks. She says it coldly just to be polite.

“Much as I’d love to, I have things to do.”

I can see Aunt Jean muscling herself together and sitting up straight. “Thank you, Ted, for bringing me home. It’s so much better to be in my own house. I’ve been looking forward to my own bed.” Aunt Jean stresses the word
own.
It’s her new favorite word.

That night, it seems strange to be back in
my
own bed on
my
own side of the shared wall. Just me and my very
own
mom. In the morning, it’s luxurious to stretch like a cat, touching right to the bottom of the bed with my toes and wiggling them under the blankets. It’s all so new that it takes me a while to realize that something has changed in the night. The light’s too bright and too soft in my room.

Snow! The first snowfall! I rip open the curtains. The street is silent and lumpy and clean and so white like someone has rolled out a cotton batting carpet. My heart leaps high with excitement. There are things to be thankful for. I mean, Aunt Jean’s home. Andrew’s like Jimmy’s
new big brother looking out for him, only better, because he pays rent. I close my eyes tight.
Thank you, God.

When I open my eyes, I see what I didn’t see before.

Boy, oh boy. Ted meant it last night when he said he had things to do.

There’s an orange and white sign right in the middle of Aunt Jean’s lawn. Some time after we’d gone to bed, Ted pounded a for sale sign into Aunt Jean’s frosty grass!

I feel a spasm in my stomach so deep and so cold, it travels all the way to my toes.

Our Jimmy will be moving away from me.

It’s true. I have to believe it. Ted is selling Aunt Jean’s house right out from under her! How can he do this? To his own sister? And her so sick and just home from the hospital!

Bastard.

Ted’s a bastard. And I don’t care anymore who knows it.

BOOK: Watching Jimmy
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