BIG MAN
September 1952
Saturdays are the best days and let Darrel Junior tell you why.
First off, there ain't no more school on Saturdays. You're 'posed to go to school Monday through Friday, just like how Dad's gotta go to work. But Junior is lucky. He's just a kid Mom tells him, so he gets the whole weekend off. Which, honestly these days ain't all too impressive with his baby brother Ponyboy hogging all Mom's attention. He just started talking— if "up-up" and calling Junior a stupid, kid name like Darry counted as talking— which suddenly, that makes him God's given grace.
Junior only just started the first grade and if there's one thing he's sure of it's that he hates school more than anything and he's gonna drop out at sixth grade just like Dad did. In first grade there's only one recess. And lunch is too late. He's got homework like spelling vocabulary and addition and shapes. And also his teacher, Ms. Deacon, hates his guts! She's always harping on him in front of everybody, telling him to sit down and be quiet and stand in the corner and going on about don't you dare Darrel Junior! when he's not even doing nothing!
Mom says it's cause Junior don't know how to act right, but what's that even mean in the first place?
Mom always yells at him for not acting right. He forgets to take his shoes off before getting in the house. He be fighting Mom tooth and nail— that's what Dad says, stop fighting your Ma tooth and nail Junior, even though that don't make any type of sense— about taking a bath and half the time she's chasing him through the house and out the yard just so she can wash his hair. He don't like to get up in the morning time either which drives his mom through the roof— that's another thing Dad says that don't make any sense, you drive us through the roof Darrel Junior. The roof seems fine to him. Sometimes Dad even has to bring the switch out. But on Saturdays Junior gets to sleep in as long as he wants. Which is funny kinda because he always gets up early on Saturdays.
Another great thing about Saturdays is Junior gets to watch TV all morning and eat cereal in the living room. Mom be yelling at him some more about putting his feet up on the couch or on the furniture and tells him he better keep his little behind on the floor if he knows what's good for him. But when she's not looking, Junior crawls up on Dad's recliner and watches Looney Tunes with Mom's mixing bowl full of Frosty O's on his lap. She's too busy running round the house tryna make Sodapop put some pants on anyways, so Junior don't worry none.
But the best thing. The coolest, greatest thing about today. On Saturdays, Dad comes home early and takes Junior, just the two of them, to the park down the block to play catch.
Junior's real into baseball nowadays. He don't have his own mitt yet though. But guess what? Auntie Lyn (who is what Mom calls a saint) cares a whole lot about poor people and whatnot, so every month she brings them a box of food and stuff Junior and Sodapop ain't supposed to tell Dad about. Sometimes it's real nice stuff like honey and syrup and even a generator Mom lets Junior carry down to the basement all by himself. Then other times there's pretty lousy stuff like eggs or towels or even one time a new skirt for Mom which made her cry.
Last week Junior had been digging in the box and found three tattered baseball cards and a worn baseball. They was from 1948, kinda old, but also real tuff. It's got Babe Ruth from the Yankees— that's his and Dad's team cause Dad is from New York— and Johnny Mize from the Giants and that Gene Hermanski fellow, but the card is missing the "I" which makes it kinda a bust.
Of course because he's a copycat, Sodapop whined to Mom about Junior keeping them. Now they're supposed to share, but Sodapop is just a kid and he don't know how to take care of nothing good, so Mom agreed to let Junior keep it in his own dresser. He's gonna bring it to school next week and show his friends. Don't nobody around here got cards.
Junior don't mind sharing the baseball though. He tosses it around with Sodapop in the front yard while they wait for Dad to get home. Since he's only three, Sodapop don't throw too far, but Junior plays with him anyways because Sodapop likes to run and catch the ball no matter how far he throws it. Mom watches them from the porch, feeding Ponyboy mashed up grapes. Anytime Soda gets the ball, he yells out to Mom and holds up the ball so she can see he got it. Sodapop is the kind of kid that can just go Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Over and over until he gets attention. Junior wishes he would stop, honestly. Mom looks tired. She smiles a lot, but he can still tell.
They wait out there a good long while, but Dad never shows.
After an hour or so of throwing around the ball, Sodapop gets bored and starts whining so much Junior snaps at him which makes Mom take away the ball and put it in her closet. Man, baby Soda is always ruining stuff like that. He goes inside to play with his action figures while Junior moves to the porch, just watching. Waiting. It's not like Dad to be late.
Soon it's just about dinner time, and so Mom tells Junior he can't stay outside no more and to wash up and set the table for dinner. When he asks what about Dad, she gets a tight look on her face and tells him to hush up and just listen for once.
How come it's always the grown ups that gotta be the ones kids listen not and not the other way around? Junior wishes he were all grown up, then he could do whatever he wanted and maybe even boss his own kids around. Mom must read his mind cause moms can just do that and she snaps at him that's fine if he wants to freeze on the porch, freeze on the porch! She brings his dinner out ten minutes later and wordlessly places it on his lap, a towel cushioned beneath the plate to stop it from burning him.
It makes Junior feel so bad he says thank you extra polite and I'm sorry and Mom's face falls and she grabs him and kisses his forehead.
"What am I gonna do with you, Darrel Junior?"
Junior feels his face heat up. Why'd she have to go and do all that, kiss him and stuff. It was awfully embarrassing.
At around 8 o'clock Mom puts her foot down and says Junior needs to come in the house. He goes inside without so much as a turned up face which must surprise Mom because she says he can stay up another thirty minutes and wait for Dad.
Junior entertains himself with go-fish since he's not allowed to watch TV so late, not that there would be anything on anyway. He sits in the living room by himself while Mom makes a bunch of calls on the phone in the kitchen. Eventually she gets really quiet and crosses her hands, thinking to herself.
"Come pray with Mommy," Mom says after a while, holding her hand out for Junior to take.
Junior doesn't mentioned the fact that he's not a baby anymore and don't needa call her mommy. He just bows his head and says please let Dad be safe, amen. Please watch over us, Lord, amen. Please, please, please.
Amen.
Mom goes to her room after that and Junior figures she must be really losing it to not yell at him to go to bed or nothing. It's almost 9:45.
Junior's not in the mood to play with cards no more, so he curls up on the couch thinking about what he's gonna do after church tomorrow. He wonders if Mom will let him go over to Ben's. His older brother takes them out on rides sometimes and lets them sit in the back of his pickup and sometimes even stand up when he drives. Junior's family is too poor to have a car, so they just walk everywhere and take the bus. It sure must be nice to have a set of wheels.
Junior's about halfway through the speech he'll give his mom about hanging with his friend when there's a hard knock at the door, making Junior shoot up in his seat all sudden.
That must be Dad!
Maybe he forgot his key or something and that's why he's so late. Dad's always doing that, leaving stuff around and forgetting where he put it. Mom says Dad has a knack for getting his head stuck in the clouds. When Junior asked what that means, Mom said it means he gets distracted real easy and can never just focus on one thing.
Junior gets up to answer the door, only to find a tight-lipped, mustached, red-nosed cop staring right back at him. Glory!
"Is your mother home, son?" He wastes no time in asking. Junior nods. "Alright, why don't you run along and go find her."
Junior races through the house and into Mom's room and tells her the cops are at the door. Mom throws on a robe over her nightgown and tells Junior to stay in the house.
Junior follows her to the living room and hops on the couch closest to the hallway so he don't look too suspicious when he stretches out to catch a glance at the squad car. The lights are on and everything. From way back there though, Junior doesn't catch much of the conversation besides "we found him on Adams this time" and Mom going I'm sorry, I'm sorry, thank you, I'm sorry.
The Mom goes out with the cop and comes back with Dad leaning on her shoulders.
Thank you, thank you, I'm sorry Mom goes some more. Then the cop leaves— his car making a woo-WHOOP— and Mom locks the door and Dad thumps into the house, his footsteps heavy.
"Hey, big man," Dad's all smiley as he collapses on the couch next to Junior. "What are you doing up so late?" He's loose with his shoulders slumped which is weird cause Dad hates bad posture and always be talking to Junior about that. He stretches his feet out, trying to take his shoes off, but there must be something wrong with his leg cause it wiggles the wrong way.
"Dad, why are you so late? And why'd the fuzz come n' getcha? We was 'posed to play ball at the park today, remember?"
"Oh. Was that today?" Dad's got a funny look in eye, like he's real sleepy. He sighs long and hard. His breath smells funny.
"Darrel Junior." Mom says her name like he's in trouble. "You go on and get to bed. It's past your bedtime."
"Aw! But Dad just got back! We was 'posed to go to the park Mom. Please, can't I just stay up a little longer? Please?"
"You go on and listen—" Dad hiccups— "You listen to your Mama now."
When Junior turns to make his case, his father just looks back at him with a sad, sad look. It's enough to send Junior straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth, put on his pajamas, and slide into the bed he shares with Sodapop. He ain't never seen Dad look sad before. And when he tries to close his eyes, Junior can't get the mental image out of his head. That look just don't seem right on Dad.
Junior wonders if getting dropped off by the cops makes his dad a criminal. In school, they learned that if you're ever in trouble you're supposed to call 9-1-1 (only during emergencies though). They're 'posed to come and help you, make you feel safe, and "clean up the streets" Ms. Deacon had put it. The cops are the good guys.
But Junior's also seen cops be real pigheaded and cruel. They pack a heat and Mom and Dad always seem real nervous around them. Why would anyone be nervous around the good guys? Maybe they're in disguise. Maybe they go around arresting people and driving them home cause they ain't got nothing else better to do.
Or maybe Dad really is a criminal.
But that can't be right.
Junior turns over in his bed, kicking the covers off his feet and staring up at the ceiling. He hears Mom turn up the radio, drowning out her voice. That can't be right at all. Dad getting picked up by the fuzz just don't make any sense. He's not a bad man! In fact, Junior would go as far as to say he is the best man there ever was.
Dad goes to church every Sunday. He works all week— he's a carpenter which means he fixes houses and whatnot— and makes it home every night to tuck Junior and Sodapop in bed. Sometimes he even sings to them which always makes Mom smile real pretty and turn pink as she watches from the door. Dad likes fixing cars and he always is out on the block helping people and smiling too much and fixing around the house anytime something gets broke. And he's real strong, strong enough to carry wooden beams and dressers and Mom's new bed frame he built for her. He can also throw real fast and far and can shoot a pistol and lift weights and he can gut a fish and whistle the tune to any Frank Sinatra song.
Junior's head hurts from thinking so much about all the good things his father does.
He turns to his side and faces Soda who's taking up all the space in bed, sleeping like a starfish. If he wasn't so whiny and loud all the time, he'd actually be pretty cute. He looks a lot like Mom but with Dad's eyes.
Junior feels his own eyes grow heavy as he watches his brother sleep. He thinks to himself sleepily that if his dad is a criminal, that probably makes him one too.