It was all I could do to keep myself from getting all worked up about
supper that night. After "Racetrack's" reaction to my moving in, I was
dreading having loads of boys look at me the same way. When I asked
Kloppman (he mentioned that I could drop the "Uncle" title) what I should
wear to dinner, he laughed and mentioned something about "dress not bein'
an issue in da house." Except, he added, I might want to buy something that
could afford to get stained quite a bit. I was certainly up for that; fancy
clothes have never been my cup of tea.
I think that Kloppman noticed my anxiety, because he spent some time before dinner calming my nerves. "Now, don'tchu worry 'bout bein' intimidated by all da boys," he said, smiling. "They're gonna be in a good mood tanight anyway." He explained that he only cooked for the boys once a week - the rest of the time, they had to fend for themselves. "Yeh, it's a hard life for 'em...but dey manage," he stated as he set the table. I put the last of the cups down at their respective place settings.
"So, how old are all of these boys?"
But before Kloppman could answer, a jumble of four or five of them came bustling through the door, heading straight for the table. I immediately stopped what I was doing and was captivated by their talk; it was mostly about food. One of the youngsters was bragging about how he was so hungry he could eat a weasel. I didn't think that made much sense, but they all laughed, and then there was a sudden hush. They were all staring blankly at me.
Once again, Kloppman introduced me as the girl who would be living here for awhile. To my surprise and delight, they didn't seem to hate the idea. In fact, they took it very well. They all smiled when they introduced themselves as Boots, Specs, Snipes, Dutchy, and Bumlets. Here I had expected to meet Robert's, Paul's, and Daniel's!
And then the rest came in. They made so much noise; they yelped and shouted and bellowed (depending on if their voice had changed or not) about who- knows-what; it was wonderful noise, though, and I loved it!
There were at least a dozen of them, maybe more. Some were uncommonly good- looking. I couldn't believe I was going to be LIVING here with all of them for the next couple months. It would be like having 20 brothers!
And there was Racetrack, using his cigarette to point me out to a boy with sandy-colored hair and an eyepatch over one eye. I couldn't help being curious about what he was saying under his breath. My heart sank as I watched them share a quick chuckle and look sideways at each other. Oh, great, I thought sullenly. They're laughing at me.
As suddenly as before, everyone stopped talking and stared at me. Some were already seated at table; others were still huddled in one great mass. As the 20 or so pairs of eyes gawked, Kloppman appeared at my side and said, "Dis heah's Katie; she'll be livin' wit us for awhile." When nobody moved, he exclaimed, "Whatsa' mattah? Ain'tchya's evah seen a goil befoah?"
As they shuffled and bumped their way onto the benches lining both sides of the table, I tried to appear calm and unruffled. What would I have to say? Would I be able to talk to them? And then something else hit me. I didn't exactly have a New York accent. Would they laugh at the way I talked? For a moment I contemplated faking an accent...but then I remembered that I had already spoken to Kloppman and Racetrack. I certainly don't need any reason for Racetrack to poke more fun at me, I thought as I shakily climbed into a spot between two boys.
I had just taken a sip of water, when I heard my name coming from the opposite end of the table -
".....Katie? Jack might - "
I looked up, but no one over there was looking at me. No sooner had I picked up my fork, when -
"So uh, wheah ya from?"
I felt eyes on me, more than one pair, coming from all directions, but one pair hitting me from directly across the table. My own eyes darted up to meet the one pair, and they landed on gorgeous dark brown ones. I tried to, but couldn't look away from the intense stare coming from them.
Be calm, I told myself. Just - | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
I think that Kloppman noticed my anxiety, because he spent some time before dinner calming my nerves. "Now, don'tchu worry 'bout bein' intimidated by all da boys," he said, smiling. "They're gonna be in a good mood tanight anyway." He explained that he only cooked for the boys once a week - the rest of the time, they had to fend for themselves. "Yeh, it's a hard life for 'em...but dey manage," he stated as he set the table. I put the last of the cups down at their respective place settings.
"So, how old are all of these boys?"
But before Kloppman could answer, a jumble of four or five of them came bustling through the door, heading straight for the table. I immediately stopped what I was doing and was captivated by their talk; it was mostly about food. One of the youngsters was bragging about how he was so hungry he could eat a weasel. I didn't think that made much sense, but they all laughed, and then there was a sudden hush. They were all staring blankly at me.
Once again, Kloppman introduced me as the girl who would be living here for awhile. To my surprise and delight, they didn't seem to hate the idea. In fact, they took it very well. They all smiled when they introduced themselves as Boots, Specs, Snipes, Dutchy, and Bumlets. Here I had expected to meet Robert's, Paul's, and Daniel's!
And then the rest came in. They made so much noise; they yelped and shouted and bellowed (depending on if their voice had changed or not) about who- knows-what; it was wonderful noise, though, and I loved it!
There were at least a dozen of them, maybe more. Some were uncommonly good- looking. I couldn't believe I was going to be LIVING here with all of them for the next couple months. It would be like having 20 brothers!
And there was Racetrack, using his cigarette to point me out to a boy with sandy-colored hair and an eyepatch over one eye. I couldn't help being curious about what he was saying under his breath. My heart sank as I watched them share a quick chuckle and look sideways at each other. Oh, great, I thought sullenly. They're laughing at me.
As suddenly as before, everyone stopped talking and stared at me. Some were already seated at table; others were still huddled in one great mass. As the 20 or so pairs of eyes gawked, Kloppman appeared at my side and said, "Dis heah's Katie; she'll be livin' wit us for awhile." When nobody moved, he exclaimed, "Whatsa' mattah? Ain'tchya's evah seen a goil befoah?"
As they shuffled and bumped their way onto the benches lining both sides of the table, I tried to appear calm and unruffled. What would I have to say? Would I be able to talk to them? And then something else hit me. I didn't exactly have a New York accent. Would they laugh at the way I talked? For a moment I contemplated faking an accent...but then I remembered that I had already spoken to Kloppman and Racetrack. I certainly don't need any reason for Racetrack to poke more fun at me, I thought as I shakily climbed into a spot between two boys.
I had just taken a sip of water, when I heard my name coming from the opposite end of the table -
".....Katie? Jack might - "
I looked up, but no one over there was looking at me. No sooner had I picked up my fork, when -
"So uh, wheah ya from?"
I felt eyes on me, more than one pair, coming from all directions, but one pair hitting me from directly across the table. My own eyes darted up to meet the one pair, and they landed on gorgeous dark brown ones. I tried to, but couldn't look away from the intense stare coming from them.
Be calm, I told myself. Just - | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |