hed been calling homenot really
home the house his parents lived in hed always call
homenever having a house of his own homehis childhood home was razed by a polack builder who kept his
feelers outcertainly wasnt his ear to the ground who learned his that parents bid on
a house had been acceptedobviously it was their intention to use the
proceeds from the sale of their house to acquire their new home the polack used their excitementfinally
finding a new place to leverage the abolishment of a clause that they required the polack accept requiring him not to tear down the house the once
sole house on hundreds of acres of farmland the farm house of a farm sold and divvied
up into lots and thereby makingcomprising the neighbourhood he grew up in
when he was a kid there were many undeveloped lots in each block of the neighborhood holes between
homes
the kids called them prairies prairies of shoots of trees of grassland
stands of trees cobbled forts childish
intrigues holds keeps safe places refuges to recline in small
campfires at their sprawled feet loose shoelaces that begged like wicks to powder kegs
hed been calling home regularlyhis folks hadnt been well
his siblings werent
attentivebitched how faraway the folks had moved and frankly they didnt see it was their obligation to check in on them They made their bed. They could lie in it.
his perspective was different
he reminded them they took years
and years of free childcare free meals for their children free overnights free
laundry free bussing to and fro different schools freeing them up to work so
they could save money to buy the houses they lived in
That was their choice they
countered
You asked them
for their help
They could have said no.
No Im the only one in this family who says
no Youre fucking polacks the
kind of polacks that should have tipped off his parents to the polack they sold
their house to
ingrates
thieves
a polack gets away with calling
Polish people polacks as Black people get away with calling their own niggers dont ever feel free to racially disparage
someone its reason enough to have your
face broke bring it before the Lawcunt more than reason enough to have your throat
cut betraying your manhoodyour
womanhood
hed been calling home
regularly then amid that in storage he was keeping storage for his
daughterstheir thingstheir mothers things things for them to sort throughdecide to keep or not it was only money
his money
in storage he recovered a small
bowling ball that had always been hished taken with him when he left home last
century
it was his ball
yet he never understood why it
was hiswhy his siblings hadnt their own balls
he was keenly aware of thatkeenly
aware of the animosity what the ballwhen present configured in
them resentment detest
Why him?which
was the same as Why not me?
they were greedy even as children
so calling home he finally asked
his motherhe would have asked his father if his father wasnt napping Tell me about my bowling ball Ive known it to
be mine always but I dont know why I dont know the back story
We haven’t told you?
You haventthough Ive never asked
either
Oh goodness. That was a baby gift
to you from Cliff and Al, their wives Mugs and Vera. Your father bowled on
North Avenue at Cliff and Al’s lanes, don’t ask me, I don’t remember the name
of the alley, but we had a fond affection for them, we used to take you as a baby
to their tavern and restaurant at the southeast corner of Golf Mill when the
shopping center was being built, I can’t remember the name of the restaurant
either, it’s been torn down now, but they thought you were, thought you were
the berries. Bob’s baby. Karol’s baby. Hope you make more babies, because if
this one is any indication of what might follow they would be worth having.
Did they have children
No. They didn’t. But they certainly fell in love
with you. The ball’s called a duck ball,
used with duckpins. When you’re teaching a child to bowl that was the ball they
used. They had that ball years and years before they gave it to you. They were
older than your father and I, in their fifties, although the age difference between
us didn’t matter, we were good friends, we certainly enjoyed each other’s
company.
That’s the backstory to your bowling
ball.
You ought to write it down so you
don’t forget it.
1124, Sunday,
10 6. 18
1710,
Sunday, 10 6. 18
