School was school, and there were still six weeks of it until Christmas vacation. Mrs Herman had us doing more homework and more writing to “get us ready for junior high”, which was that Tappan place that you could see on the hill as we drove by it on Stadium. It always looked to me more like a factory without any smokestacks than a school. Mike said it looked like a prison.

The story problems and algebra stuff in math were kind of neat, but we just kept doing them until they got boring. I liked learning more about the ancient history stuff that mom had read to us in the “Child’s History of the World”, all those “empires” and “civilizations” in the “fertile crescent” between those two rivers. But it wasn’t like all us kids talked about it at recess, like my friends and I used to talk about the Civil War in second and third grade. We didn’t buy “Ancient World” trading cards like the Civil War cards we had, or that I even made. And for science, the experiments, like looking in microscopes at “cells”, were always neat, but we didn’t do those very much.

And in reading and writing it was all kind of boring. I just did them,]\ but I didn’t really care what I was writing about. Some SRA stories might be a little bit interesting, but once you read it and did the test on it you just forgot about it and read something else and never thought about it again. And since, just like last year, we got points for reading books and writing book reports, we all just figured out what the shortest books were in the library, usually “biographies” written for kids about famous grownups, and read and wrote reports on those. They were all kind of the same, they were kids, mostly boys, and then they grew up and had really hard “challenges” that they “overcame” and made them famous for whatever.

None of it was hard, some of it was interesting, but most of it, even most of the interesting stuff, just wasn’t much fun. You just had to do it until the bell finally rang and you were done, at least until the next day. And any homework, which was usually math problems or writing sentences or reports, some of my friends and I would try to do right after class, sitting on the picnic tables in the park by the school, and help each other get it done quick, so we didn’t have to think about it anymore and just think about are own stuff and not keep worrying about when we were going to do our homework once we were home.

We still played soccer every morning before school and after lunch before afternoon class, all us sixth graders, Billy called us “the few the proud”, against “the horde” of fifth and fourth graders. But big Mike was still our secret weapon, keeping at least one of our goals pretty safe and doing his booming kicks from his goal towards Stuart or Frankie or Todd or Grant down in “enemy territory”, or even kicking the ball all the way to the opposite goal and even scoring sometimes. When they saw Mike by our goal, putting a ball on the ground in front of him and lining up to kick the hell out of it, the fourth and fifth grade kids would yell “danger, danger, incoming!”, and they all seemed to get a “kick” out of that. Yeah, I was learning what puns were, and to make them!

There was this kid Julian, a fifth grader on the other team, who was big like Mike but kind of fat too, but he could kick really good. Most of my sixth grade friends agreed that he would be the “new Mike” next year, when all of us sixth graders had gone off to junior high at Tappan. There were a couple times when Mike even met Julian after school and they would get a soccer ball from Mr Bing and practice kicking on one of the fields, Mike in one goal and Julian in the goal on the other side of the field. Billy thought that was “treason”, helping the other team, but Mike was like that, he liked helping people, even the “enemy”. “It’s just a game”, he’d say, “We don’t even keep score!”

***

After that time when mom had gotten really mad at dad for having “sex” with another woman and hit him with the box of aluminum foil that cut her hand bad and there was blood on the walls, dad had slept in the study for the next two weeks. He had finally told David and I that he had made a “really bad mistake”, but that he hoped he could “work it out with your mom”. Even when he moved out of the house to live with some “grad” students, he still said that he wanted to “sort things out with your mom”.

Like mom, dad said that it all had nothing to do with me and David, and that they both loved us a lot. But that didn’t make sense to me. If they really loved us, why would they do this to us? It seemed to me it had everything to do with us, because our dad wasn’t around very much and our mom was sad all the time. I still didn’t want them to be in charge of us, but it felt really different around the house now, and David and I had to worry all the time about what else was going to happen. David would tell me every night that he hoped mom would let dad come back, and I told David that I hoped so too.

David and I tried not to think about it, and then worry about it, but listening to all those Beatles records just kept reminding us, because most of the songs were about girlfriends and not liking them anymore or them not liking you. So David and I were playing our funny “comedy” records a lot more instead, when we were in our room and wanted to listen to something while we did other stuff in there. We were really liking funny stuff these days.

I had gotten this “My Name is Allan” record for my birthday from Aunt Pat, that we had listened to a lot since dad left. This Allan Sherman guy took regular songs and changed the words to make them funny and even silly sometimes. Dad had said they were “satire”. This one song that David and I liked and I learned at least some of the words to, was about stuff in TV commercials that you couldn’t figure out…

Sherman: Chim chiminey, chim chiminey, chim-chim-cheree
Those are three words that don’t make sense to me
But I’m used to words that don’t make sense to me
From all those commercials I see on TV
When I see an ad that can’t be understood
I know that the product has got to be good
Those words may be crazy, but I think they’re great
Like sodium acetylsalicylate

Chorus: Sodium acetylsalicylate

He was right that some TV commercials used words I’d never heard of, like those “Certs” mints that some kids got because they tasted really zingy, the guy in the commercials said they had “Retsyn” in them, whatever that was. Ever since I’d been a little kid, I always figured that the TV commercials were more important than the programs, because that’s when some guy would try to tell you what you should be doing, like buying something at the store.

Sherman: These wonderful words spin around in my brain
Each one is a mystery I cannot explain
Like what does that Blue Magic whitener do
Does it make blue things white, or make white things blue?

Chorus: His blue things are white, and his white things are blue

I’d seen those commercials on TV for that “Cheer” detergent with “blue magic whitener”. Mom used that “Tide” detergent in the orange box, but she also put “bleach” in when she washed our bed sheets, t-shirts and underwear so they would be more white.

Sherman: My Fastback has Wide-Track and Autronic Eye
Which winks when a cute little Volvo goes by
My tank full of Platformate starts with a roar
But when I try to stop, it goes two miles more
I measure my breathing with my Nasograph,
It’s nice, but oh my, how it hurts when I laugh
My chair is upholstered in real Naugahyde
When they killed that nauga, I sat down and cried

Chorus: He moved to Chicago when that nauga died

I’d seen and heard commercials and even my friends talked about “fastback” cars. And I’d seen and heard commercials about gasoline with that “Platformate” stuff in it. Those grownups on TV sounded so serious when they talked about all this stuff and told you what to buy, but Allan Sherman was making it all pretty silly. He seemed more like an older kid than an actual grownup, pretending to be like a grownup, but really making them look silly.

And that “Naugahyde” part was the best one in the whole song! I knew it was a kind of fake leather they used for making those puffy chairs and couches some people had in their living rooms, the shiny ones that when you sat on them they squeaked or made those fart noises. I knew REAL leather came from the skins of cows, and there was no real animal called a “nauga”.

I’ve lived all my life in this weird wonderland
I keep buying things that I don’t understand
‘Cause they promise me miracles, magic, and hope
But, somehow, it always turns out to be soap

I thought that last part was really interesting, and the last two lines were really clever. TV was all about “selling soap”, that’s what Molly’s mom, who never liked TV, used to say, and my friend Mike said too. He said that’s why they called those shows mom liked to watch during the day “soap operas”, because they were full of commercials for different kinds of soap. Ivory Soap to wash your hands and your body in the bathtub. Tide or Cheer to wash your clothes. Comet to wash your sinks. Mr Clean to wash your walls and your floors. When I was little, I always thought that commercials were trying to tell you stuff that was really important, but Mike said they were just trying to be in charge of you. That’s what grownups did, they ran around and tried to be in charge of other grownups, not just kids.

Then the other comedy record we were listening to a lot was the Bill Cosby one that “Santa” got David and I for Christmas. It was really from mom and dad, but mom thought Santa Claus was really neat, even though he wasn’t really real. So she still always had some of our presents come from “Santa”, like she did when we were little and we actually believed Santa was real. Now, we all KNEW Santa wasn’t real, but mom would never say he wasn’t, and if David or I said he wasn’t, she would pretend to be surprised and would pretend we were wrong and even pretend to get mad at us. Mom would say that Santa Claus was “an important reminder to grownups to love kids, give them presents and treat them well”, even though she KNEW he really wasn’t real.

I wondered if God was maybe that same way. He wasn’t really real, but people wanted him to be real because he was an “important reminder” too, so they pretended he was, and would tell you he was. That kind of made sense, and I was still hoping he wasn’t really real because I didn’t believe in him, and if I died and it turned out he was real, then I guess I would go to Hell instead of Heaven, the REAL Hell, not the Hell Michigan one.

Anyway, the whole first side of the Bill Cosby record was about Noah, this guy from the Bible, talking to God, who was telling Noah he had to build this giant boat called an “ark” because God was going to make it rain for 40 days and 40 nights, and that everybody that wasn’t in the ark would drown. It started out with “The Lord”, which was another name for God, “calling” Noah from heaven…

Sound: Voompa voompa voompa voompa (bell dings)

Voice of God: Noah!

Noah: Somebody called?

Sound: Voompa voompa voompa voompa (bell dings)

Voice of God: (sounding a little angry) Noah!

Noah: (annoyed) Who is that?

Voice of God: It’s the Lord (pause) Noah!

Noah: (in disbelief) Right! (worried) Where are you? What do you want? I’ve been good!

Voice of God: I want you to build an ark!

Noah: (still in disbelief) Right! What’s an ark?

So God explains to Noah what an ark is and that Noah needs to build it and then get two of each animal, even mosquitos, one male and one female, on the ark before God destroys the world by making it rain. It’s the whole Noah’s Ark story I had heard before, I guess it was from the Bible. It was super funny, and David and I learned all the words so we could do it for our friends who had never heard it or wanted to hear it again. Even Mike, who had never heard it, liked it.

And we were watching a lot of TV shows in the evening in the study, a lot of them were comedy too. Mom was also watching a lot of TV, like those “soap opera” and “game shows” during the daytime, and sometimes she would even watch some of the regular shows in the evening.

David and I watched shows every night, but Wednesdays and Fridays had a lot of the best comedy ones we liked.

On Wednesdays, all the shows we watched were on channel two. At 7:30 we watched this new space show called “Lost in Space”, even though they never really flew around on their spaceship but were just on this other planet that looked like where those Western shows were. But it was mainly about this kid and he had a robot that was like his babysitter. It wasn’t a comedy, but it was really interesting.

After that on the same channel at 8:30 we watched “The Beverly Hillbillies”, which I had liked watching for years and David was now old enough to start liking it too. It was about this hillbilly family with Southern accents who were poor but got rich because Jed discovered oil and they moved to “Beverly Hills”, which I guess was where rich people lived in California. It was usually pretty funny, specially Granny, who called their swimming pool a “see-ment pond”. It was interesting how these hillbilly people from a different place could look at regular stuff differently than we do. And it had a great song that I had learned to sing by heart and David could now sing too…

Come and listen to my story about a man named Jed
A poor mountaineer barely kept his family fed
But then one day he was shooting at some food
And up from the ground came a bubblin crude
Oil that is… black gold… Texas tea

My friends Billy and Gil REALLY liked the “Beverly Hillbillies” too, and Gil could do funny imitations of Granny, and Billy always wanted him to do it for other kids. Like Gil would say in Granny’s voice with that Southern accent, “How d’ya like yer possum cooked? Fallin’ off the bone tender or with a little FIGHT left in’t?” I think Gil really liked it that there was at least one thing he could do that made other kids laugh, no one else could do, and Billy kept asking him to do it.

He and Billy would sing the song to the fourth and fifth graders they were playing soccer against, specially when Billy stopped one of their shots on his goal. Billy would wag his finger at the kid who kicked it and sing, “Come and listen to my story about a man named Jed…”, and keep singing until the kid ran off, usually shaking his head thinking Billy was crazy.

But Billy and all his silly and crazy stuff was part of what made us sixth graders on the soccer field like Greek Gods to the fifth and fourth graders. They were expecting us to not be like regular kids like they were, to do stuff like Mike kicking the ball from our goal all the way across the field to theirs, or Billy singing silly songs to them, or Stuart and Frankie singing to each other “nowhere to run” and “nowhere to hide”. Stuff they could talk and laugh about with their friends. It’s like us sixth graders weren’t just the other team, we were putting on a show, that was part of our job.

Then the next show on Wednesday nights was this new one, “Green Acres”, that was only kind of funny, not as funny as “The Beverly Hillbillies”, but it also had a really good song where the husband guy wants to move to the country but his wife wants to stay in New York City.

Him: Green acres is the place for me
Farm livin’ is the life for me
Land spreadin’ out so far and wide
Keep Manhattan, just give me that countryside

Her: New York is where I’d rather stay
I get allergic smelling hay
I just adore a penthouse view
Dah-ling I love you but give me Park Avenue

And at the end of the song it was interesting that because he was the husband he was in charge of her, though dad never seemed like he was ever in charge of mom, specially not now when she made him live somewhere else.

Him: You are my wife
Her: Good bye, city life
Both: Green Acres we are there

Stuart and Frankie liked to do that song together. Frankie would play the husband and Stuart would play the wife. They were both really good at sounding like kind of silly grownups, and most of the other kids liked it when they did it.

Finally “The Dick Van Dyke Show” came on, which mom would usually come in to watch with us. That show was interesting, because it was funny, but not so much silly funny like “Beverly Hillbillies” or “Green Acres” with all their crazy characters. More like regular people funny, like the kind of grownups that would come to mom’s parties.

And then after that show, at 10:00 mom would watch “I Spy”. She said she liked it because it was “very sophisticated” and there was “good chemistry” between the main characters, and she really liked Bill Cosby’s character because he “went against the stereotypes of black people”. He was the same guy who did the comedy record David and I listened to. She’d tell us it was “past your bedtime”, but in a silly kind of way, and make us go to our room. We’d do it, because it was one of the few times since she and dad had that really bad “fight” that she seemed a little bit happy.

Friday was another big TV night. David and I had watched the “Flintstones” every Friday at 7:30 on channel seven since he was a baby and I was a little kid. For me, watching the show meant my school week was over, and I always liked the way they did “stone age” versions of today stuff like cars and airplanes. It had a great song that David and I knew all the words to and dad had sometimes even sung with us at bedtime when one of us wanted to sing it. I think it was still David’s favorite show.

Flintstones, meet the Flintstones
They’re the modern stone-age family
From the town of Bedrock
They’re a page right out of history

But there was this new show that started at the same time on channel two called “The Wild Wild West” that I was really liking but I could never get David to watch instead of the Flintstones. It was one of those Western shows about stuff in the past, but the two goodguys were secret agents, instead of being ranchers or cowboys or sheriffs, and it had some science fiction stuff too. Unless David was sleeping over at his friend Eddie’s house, we usually could only watch the second half, so I was still trying to figure the show out, and I hadn’t convinced David to watch this whole show instead.

Then at 8:30 was another one of our favorite shows, “The Addams Family”, which also had a great song that David and I could sing.

They’re creepy and they’re kooky
Mysterious and spooky
They’re altogether ooky
The Addams Family

All my friends at school liked that show and most of them could sing all the words too. We all liked trying to figure out what “ooky” meant.

It was funny and kind of silly, but in a different way. Mom had watched it a few times and said it was “campy”, but she couldn’t explain to David and I what that meant and dad wasn’t around to help.

And then at 10:00 on channel four was that spy show that my friends and I all waited to see, “The Man from Uncle”. It was like James Bond, but he was British and these guys were American, and you didn’t have to wait until a new James Bond movie came out to see it, it was on every Friday. Mom didn’t care if David and I stayed up late to watch it, since it wasn’t a “school night”. And then Saturday night at 8:30 on channel four was “Get Smart”, the comedy spy show that all my friends liked to watch too. It was one of those “satire” shows, like “Rocky and Bullwinkle”, where all the characters were serious, but they did stupid or silly things though THEY didn’t even know they were stupid or silly, but WE did.

I thought it was neat that there was both a serious show, “Man from Uncle”, and a comedy show, “Get Smart”, about the same secret agent stuff. It was starting to make sense to me that everything that was serious could have a funny “side” too.

Finally, on Sunday at 7:00 on channel seven was “Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea”. It wasn’t a comedy, but I REALLY liked that show because it was about a giant super neat submarine called the “Seaview”, which even had a smaller FLYING submarine in the front part.

***

The school bell rang. The morning part of school was over. It was Tuesday, and every Tuesday and Thursday dad would pick David and I up at lunchtime and take us over to the Food and Drug for lunch. None of my friends, except Mike, knew what had happened with mom and dad, and that dad wasn’t living in our house anymore. And on these days when he took us out to lunch, I wouldn’t play soccer before afternoon class, and my friends were trying to figure that out.

“So aren’t you going to play soccer before afternoon class?” Gil asked. I looked down and shook my head.

“My dad’s taking my brother and me out to lunch”, I said.

“He does that a lot”, he said, “Why don’t you just eat lunch at home?”

“I don’t know”, I said, shrugging my shoulders and pretending that I didn’t, “My dad just likes to do that I guess.” There was no way I was going to tell Gil that dad wasn’t living with us anymore, and then I’d have to explain why. Billy and Teddy were listening too, and they came over to join our talking.

“What, did your dad strike it rich? Find a gold mine?” Billy asked, “Lunch at restaurants every day?”

“Not EVERY day”, I said, feeling mad but trying not to talk like I was mad, “Just on Tuesdays and Thursdays when he has a break from teaching at Eastern.”

Finally Teddy joined in. “C’mon Billy… Gil”, he said, “It’s none of your beeswax what Coop’s family does or how much money they have.” I was happy that Teddy defended me. Even though he was best friends with Gil and Billy, he did a lot more thinking about what was the right thing to do than they did. But still, it was sounding like my family was rich or something.

I didn’t want ANY of my friends to think that, because then they might tease me about it. The best way not to get teased was to be the same as everybody else and like the same stuff. Some of my friends teased Martin because he was fat and he didn’t do sports. They called Alice a “beatnik girl” or even a “witch”, because of the strange clothes she wore and that she liked to garden. They teased Duncan as a “nerd” because he was super smart, collected dead bugs and liked reading about strange plants. And besides what happened with mom and dad, I didn’t even tell my friends I played all those Avalon Hill games, because I was pretty smart and they might call me a “nerd” too. I just wanted to be regular, like they were.

Actually, that wasn’t completely true, I wanted to be more like Mike. Even though he was super smart and was into politics and “issues”, and liked and was nice to everybody, even Martin, Alice and Duncan, nobody dared tease HIM because he was so big and strong and so good at sports. And even though he never TRIED to be “cool” he always WAS. And why tease somebody that was so nice to you.

I saw dad’s car pull up in front of our house across the street from where Billy, Gil and Teddy were talking to me. He had bought one of those VW “Bug” cars, which seemed really old because it was gray and not at all shiny, and had one of those “clutch” things where you had to shift the gears. He got out of the car and was looking around the park, saw me and waved.

“I gotta go”, I told my friends, and before they could say anything I turned and ran towards home.

When I got to dad he did his best to make a smile. “Talking to some friends?” he asked. I nodded, but slowly.

“Yeah, kind of”, I said, not feeling happy about what those friends might be thinking about me.

“What’s wrong?” dad asked, looking worried. He didn’t usually ask me questions like that, and when he did, and I actually told him something that was wrong, he would get super worried and would want to help me fix it by giving me ideas of what I should do. I didn’t really want that, I just wanted him to listen and then let me fix it by myself.

“Nothing”, I said, shaking my head really fast so he wouldn’t think I didn’t really feel that.

“You know”, he said, looking down at the ground, looking more like a kid than a grownup, “I’m really sorry about what happened between your mom and me, and if I can figure out how to fix it I’ll sure try.” I nodded and looked down too. He paused, looking up at the sky now, looking more like a grownup.

“But you know your mother”, he said. It was the first time I could remember him calling her “your mother” instead of “your mom”, like she was calling him “your father” instead of “your dad”. I continued to look down at the little pebbles all stuck together in the black stuff in the street.

He did his best to make a smile again and sound happy. “The guys you were talking to look familiar, but I don’t think that I’ve really met them. I do remember meeting the big guy, Mike, at your birthday party. His dad teaches at U of M, and also the other kid’s dad.”

“Andy”, I said. He nodded.

“Andy, right”, he said, “Andy’s dad works at the medical center and his mom is a researcher for ISR, the Institute for Survey Research. And you had another friend at the party.”

“Arthur”, I said. He nodded.

“But neither of Arthur’s parents were there”, he said, “Though I recall your mom saying they were involved in the university too. You don’t happen to know, do you?” I shook my head. I had been to Arthur’s house a couple of times, but I never met his mom or his dad. I could tell dad was trying hard to find things we could talk about.

“Well”, he said, smiling more like a real happy smile now, “I’m glad to see that you seem to have lots of new friends. You’ve done such a good job adjusting to this new neighborhood and making new friends. I’m really very proud of you.” He nodded really fast to try to make sure that I knew that he was REALLY proud.

“Yeah”, I said, looking at him and nodding back.

Now David was walking across Wells Street from the park with his friends Al and Gus, who lived just down the street from us.

“Is that your dad?” Gus asked David.

“Yyyyyep!” David said. I was surprised that Gus, who lived just three houses down from us and had been friends with David since last fall after we moved here from our old house, didn’t recognize dad. I guess mom was the one who had gone around the neighborhood and met everybody, and said hi and even talked to everybody walking by when she was working in the yard, and dad was off at work at Eastern most of the time. She liked to get to know EVERYBODY. She was even friends now with my teacher Mrs Herman, who she called by her first name, “Fran”, AND David’s teacher, Miss Constantine, who she called “Emily”.

Mom would have said hi to Al and Gus, but dad just said, “Well guys, jump in the car and we’ll head over to the Food and Drug.”

“Us too?” Al asked, “I don’t think we’ll all fit in that little car.” Dad laughed through his nose and shook his head.

“Sorry boys”, he said, “Maybe some other day if your parents say it’s okay you can join us for lunch.”

Both Al and Gus nodded and said, “Okay”, then looking at David, Al said, “See you back at school after lunch.” David was lucky his friends were only seven and didn’t ask hard questions like why was our dad taking us “out” for lunch. I didn’t think those two were that smart anyway.

***

The Food and Drug was this really neat place on the corner of Packard and Stadium, just up Packard from Mike’s house. You could buy grocery store stuff there, like food and pop and soap and medicine like Aspirin and Mercurochrome. But they also sold toys and some books and magazines, like the Blue Front did, even Mad Magazine and some comics. And they also had different stuff, depending on the “season”. They had costumes and pumpkins for halloween, plus big bags of candy, but those were gone now and they had ornaments and lights for Christmas, along with fake Christmas trees. During the summer they had swimsuits, swimming goggles and blow up innertubes and rafts for little kids. They also sold “drugs”, which were those medicines the doctor wrote you a “prescription” for when you were sick.

But the other part, that was REALLY neat, was what dad called a “lunch counter” and mom called a “soda fountain”. That’s where dad always took us to lunch on school days. It was on the right side of the store when you went in the front door and was kind of separated from the rest of the store by tall shelves that went up pretty high but not all the way to the really high ceiling. So when you were on the other side shopping for groceries you didn’t even know it was there. The counter was long and had a long line of those really cool shiny silver metal stools that were hooked to the floor and had that shiny fake leather soft part on top that you sat on. I wondered if it was that “naugahyde” stuff like in the Allan Sherman song. You could sit on the stool and spin around, though I don’t think you were supposed to spin around too much. On the counter they had three of those jukebox machines where you could put in money and pick songs to listen to.

Today David, dad and I sat on the three stools at the end of the counter closest to the front door, because there were three other people sitting on other stools so those were the only three empty ones that were all next to each other. David and I took the two on either side of one of the jukeboxes so we could look through all the songs and figure which ones we wanted to play. Dad sat on the third stool and then reached in his pocket, coins jingling and clinking in there, and pulled out a quarter that he put in the quarter slot at the top of the machine. It made neat clanging noises as it disappeared in the slot.

When you sat on the stools you could watch the guy who made all the food and drinks, and then behind him were big windows that looked out to where you could park your car and then farther out to Packard and where it crossed Stadium. Across Packard was the bank where mom and dad kept their money.

We ordered our food. We all got hotdogs and french fries, and Cokes to drink. Mom always tried to get us to drink Seven-Up instead of Coke, but dad didn’t care. We had been there enough times that the guy who worked there knew all our names, and would ask us how our day was going. David and I would usually just nod our heads and say okay, but dad would tell him stuff about how his day really WAS going. The guy’s name was Chauncey, and I only remembered that because dad would say his name when he said hello to him.

I remember the first time dad talked to the guy about his day and teaching his classes at Eastern and that he had his “PhD in English”, the guy started calling him “Dr Zale” until dad stopped him.

“No no, please”, dad said to him, “Just call me Eric. I’m not a big fan of titles and all that formal stuff.”

With the food ordered, it was time to pick out songs, which were a nickel each but you got six for a quarter. Sometimes if dad had one he wanted to hear, to be fair, we decided that David and I could each pick two by ourselves, and the last one we had to agree on. If dad didn’t want to pick one, then David and I each got three.

We moved the metal levers to show dad all the pages of songs in the thing and he finally saw one, “King of the Road” by Roger Miller that he liked and wanted to hear, so we pushed the letter and number button for that one. Then for the one that both David and I would pick together David suggested “Yesterday” by the Beatles.

“Not that one David!” I said in a fierce whisper, hoping dad on the other side of me talking to Chauncey wouldn’t hear me.

“Why not?” David asked, doing a fierce whisper too, “We both like it and we don’t have it at home.”

“Think about the words”, I said, still whispering, showing David my wide open eyes and tilting my head toward dad and pointing towards dad with the thumb on my right hand, “Love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away.” Then I moved my lips to make the words “mom and dad” but made hardly any sound.

David thought about it and then finally wrinkled his nose, looked sad and looked down. “Oh, okay”, he said, “I forgot about that.”

Then he looked up at me and asked, “How ‘bout Downtown?”

“I don’t know”, I said, and sang to David the first line of the song in a whisper, “When you’re alone and life is making you lonely.” He wrinkled his nose again and thought about that.

“But”, he said, then starting to sing in a whisper himself from the song, “You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares.”

“True”, I said.

“You two having trouble picking one out you both like?” Dad asked.

“Yeah”, I said, not looking at dad but still looking at David and me making up something to say, “David wanted ‘I’m Henry the Eighth’ but I don’t know about that one.”

“I thought both of you really liked that one”, dad said, “You guys sang it over and over last Saturday when we went for that long drive. It’s certainly got a jaunty, catchy tune. A bit more lively than the ‘100 hundred bottles of beer on the wall’ song.” He laughed through his nose.

“Or David can pick that one for one of his?” dad said, “You can save figuring out the one you both agree on til last.”

“True”, I said again. Mike said “true” sometimes when he was arguing with someone but they made an argument that he thought was good, even if he didn’t agree. I was starting to say that word sometimes instead of “right” or just nodding my head, because it made me sound like an older, smarter kid. Then I looked at David and opened my eyes wide like I was saying to him, “It’s your choice!” He pushed the letter and number buttons for the “I’m Henry the Eighth” song. I ended up picking “Nowhere to Run” by Martha Reeves and the Vandellas and “I Can’t Help Myself” by the Four Tops. He picked “Hang on Sloopy” by the McCoys, and “Act Naturally” by the Beatles because that one wasn’t on any Beatles album we had yet.

As Chauncey gave us our hotdogs, french fries and Cokes, the first song dad wanted us to pick for him began to play.

Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, 50 cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain’t got no cigarettes

“Did your kids pick THAT one?” he asked dad.

Dad shook his head and laughed again through his nose. “That was MY one pick”, he said.

Chauncey nodded and smiled and said, “That makes more sense. Good choice!”

“Thanks”, dad said, nodding slowly.

“I tell you”, Chauncey said, “These kids with their crazy music!” Then he looked at David and I and said, “No offense guys!”

I think I WAS offended, but dad quickly said, “None taken, I’m sure.” All my friends and I knew that a lot of grownups did not like our music, but that was okay because we were completely different than they were, so I guess it made sense. If they LIKED all our music, THAT would be weird.

I really liked their hotdogs, they toasted the buns so that when you bit into them the bun crunched in your teeth and tasted a little buttery until you bit through the skin of the hotdog into its soft hot steamy middle. I had mine with mustard. David had his with ketchup now, which I thought was disgusting. Dad had his with that special spicy mustard that Chauncey had, also relish and chopped onions. It didn’t seem yuck like ketchup but I don’t think I could eat it that way.

“So”, dad said, after swallowing a bite of his hotdog, “I’d like to have you guys over to my new place. It’s on Washington Heights over by the Medical Center. Well, I share it with a grad student, but I have my own bedroom. It’s a quick walk from there to the Arb.” He sounded like he was trying to be happy about it, but it made me feel sad. David too, but he actually said something.

“When are you going to come back home and live with us again?” he asked. Dad took a big breath, puffed out his cheeks and blew the air out between his lips making a whooshing noise.

“I’d be back tomorrow”, he said, staring out the big window, “But that’s up to your mom. She’s still pretty mad at me.” I could tell Chauncey had heard what David and dad had said but pretended he didn’t and was not looking at us as he did his cooking stuff. I REALLY didn’t like it when people found out that mom and dad weren’t living together, I had heard some kids and grownups talk about a “broken home” and how sad it was for the kids. I didn’t want anyone to think I was from a “broken home” or be sad for me.

“But, why…” David started to say but then he saw me glaring at him with a “Shut up!” look and he stopped talking and just looked down.

“But why what?” dad asked him, turning to look at us.

“Nothing”, David said, sounding sad.

“I know you guys don’t like it”, Dad said, “I don’t like it either, but I don’t think this is the best place to talk about it. We just have to make the best of it. I’m still your dad. We still do stuff together, right?”

“Right”, I said, trying to nod and sound like that was the really important thing and we should stop talking about this.

“Right”, David said. I think he was trying to sound like that was the important thing too, but he wasn’t doing a very good job.

We all went back to eating our hotdogs and our french fries. I wondered why mom wouldn’t let dad come back and live with us, even if he slept in the study by himself. Before, when she got really mad at him, she would yell at him but then she would feel better. And I’d heard her on the phone in the kitchen yelling at dad a few different times since he moved out. Why wasn’t she done being mad?

After we finished eating, dad drove us back to our house and parked his car on the street out front. Mom was out in the side yard sitting down pruning the hedge along the driveway. When she saw us in the car she stood up, threw her pruning shears on the ground, and took off her garden gloves and threw them down too, and wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. She looked like she was thinking what to do. I hadn’t seen them talk to each other face to face in a couple weeks. We got out of the car and she started to walk towards us.

“Hey, Liz”, dad said, standing by the front door of his car. David looked at me like he wasn’t sure what was going to happen or what we should do. I shook my head slowly and shrugged my shoulders.

“Hello Eric”, mom said, nodding slowly, “Did you three have a nice lunch together? Did you go to the Food and Drug again?”

Dad, David and I all nodded.

“Good”, she said, nodding too, “Eric, I don’t suppose you’ve gotten my letter yet.” He shook his head.

“Well, it should come today or tomorrow”, she said, “I sent it to your office address at Eastern to make sure you got it. It’s… important.”

Dad nodded again, faster now, and I could see him swallow. “I’ll look for it and read it as soon as I get it”, he said.

“Good”, she said, and she clapped her hands together and blew air out of her mouth.

“Well”, dad said, “I’ve got to get back to Eastern and do some prep for my two o’clock class.” Then he looked at David and me. “See you guys for Thursday lunch if not before?” David and I both nodded. I was trying to figure out what that letter thing was all about. I heard the school bell ring over in the park. I looked out in the park and the kids were still playing soccer, so must be just first bell, ten more minutes until second bell when we’d all have to go to class.

“I gotta go to the bathroom”, David said. I realized I did too and I also didn’t want to be out here with mom and dad anymore.

“I REALLY have to go”, I said, and ran into the house before David could.

“HEY”, I heard him call out behind me, “I said it first!”

***

It was the next Saturday and David and I had spent the morning with dad. It was cold and windy and the sky was gray and dad said it might snow. We had gone in his car to Lunsford’s bakery to get cinnamon rolls, and coffee for him, and took them back to his new house and ate them on his dining table. He showed us all around the place. There was also a living room, kitchen, and a little bathroom downstairs and two bedrooms and a bigger bathroom upstairs. One of the bedrooms was dad’s and the other one was the other guy’s that lived there, though that guy wasn’t around.

We went out in his backyard and threw a football that dad had. It was neat back there because the cemetery was just behind the backyard fence, with those gravestones and all. As we threw the ball to each other we talked about the Michigan “away” game today against Northwestern. Everyone thought we were going to have another great team this year, like last year when we beat Ohio State, went to the Rose Bowl and won that game too by a big score. But Michigan had lost their first three conference games, and dad was really sad about that. And even though they’d won the next two, there was no way they’d go to the Rose Bowl this year. Everything just seemed sad for dad right now, except being with David and me. At least maybe Michigan could win today and then beat Ohio State at Michigan stadium next week.

After we got bored throwing the football, dad said he wanted to show us around his new neighborhood. Across the street was this giant building that dad said was “Mary Markley Hall”, which was a “dormitory” or a “dorm” for short, where a thousand students lived during the school “semester”. We walked up his street to one end where there was another big building across the street, but this one looked older.

“That’s Mosher-Jordan Hall”, he said, “That’s where your mom lived when she was a freshman at Michigan. She was a year behind me, I was a sophomore. I lived in West Quad. That’s right where the Union is where you get your haircuts.” He looked at the building, smiled and shook his head.

“Did your mom and I tell you the story about how we came to Ann Arbor and eventually got married?” he asked. David shook his head. I kind of remembered them telling me about it, but I couldn’t remember exactly what they had said, and finally shook my head too.

We walked across the street and around the right side of that building which was next to another building. There were some people walking around that all looked like college students. On the other side of the buildings the ground sloped down and you could see all these tennis courts, but they were covered with brown leaves whooshing around in the wind, and no one was playing. There was a wooden bench and dad sat in the middle and patted each side of him for us to sit next to him, which we did.

He looked down at the tennis courts, smiled and said, “Your mom was a great young tennis player in Binghamton, where she lived in that house on Westwood court where your grandparents, George and Carrie, still live. She never had a lesson, she was just naturally talented, gifted even. I think it was the summer of ‘46. I was back from the war and she was playing in IBM’s summer tennis tournament, both singles AND doubles. You guys remember that your grandpa George worked for IBM for many years.” I nodded, when David saw me nod he nodded too.

Then he shook his head slowly while he was thinking, pushed his lips together and said, “I was living in Johnson City, which is just next to Binghamton, and working for the Endicott Bulletin as a sports reporter, and I was assigned to cover the IBM tournament. So I watched a couple of your mom’s matches, which she won of course, and I was quite impressed. Doubly so when someone told me she was self taught, never had a coach or a lesson. So she went on to win the women’s singles title, and she and her partner came in second in the doubles, losing a close match in the finals.”

Now he smiled, laughed through his nose and nodded and said, “So as part of my job I interviewed her, and I was really taken with her. She was obviously a talented tennis player but she was also gorgeous, well spoken, and smart as a whip. Well there were a couple more events after the tournament, including when the head of IBM, Thomas Watson, presented your mom with the tournament trophy, where I had a chance to talk with her again and we became friends. She was engaged to this guy Jim at the time. I came to the house a couple times, met her parents, your grandparents, they liked me.”

He looked up at the gray sky and said, “Well your grandma Carrie never really liked Jim or his family, and your mom finally broke off the engagement with Jim. I had gotten admitted to the University of Michigan here in Ann Arbor under the G.I. Bill. Your mom was looking to get out of Binghamton and get away from her mom, who wanted her to go to teacher’s college, but she wanted to study art or sociology. So I told her I was moving to Ann Arbor to go to school here, and just threw out that she maybe should come along, live in Ann Arbor for a year, get her Michigan residency and then maybe I could help her get admitted at the University too. First she dismissed it, but then later she said yes.”

He laughed through his nose and said, “We were just casual friends, barely more than acquaintances really, we weren’t even dating, though I was kind of smitten by her. Yet miraculously she agreed to travel to Ann Arbor with me and we went. I enrolled here at Michigan and she worked as a nanny for a family of University professor with young kids. Then a year later she had her Michigan residency, applied and was accepted. I knew some guy who maybe helped to get her in. I dated a couple other women but she and I finally dated and I asked her to marry me. She said no a couple times, but I kept asking and she finally said yes, I couldn’t believe my luck. I got my B.A. and M.A. in English Literature and she got her B.A. in Sociology and we got married in ‘51 and it was the happiest day of my life.”

He took a look at both of us on either side of him and then looked down at the empty tennis courts again and said, “A few years later we decided we should have kids, and Coop was born in ‘55. We still lived in a tiny upstairs apartment on State Street across from Ferry Field. In ‘57 we somehow were able to get a loan through the G.I. Bill to buy the house on Prescott, and in ‘58 David was born. Your mom and I worked our butts off and I finally got my PhD, and my position at Eastern.” He looked down at the tennis courts and shook his head slowly.

“Oh”, he said, wagging a finger in the air, “I want to show you how close my place is to the Arb.” We headed back between the big buildings and across the street back down to his new house. We kept walking down his street and at the other end was a way to get into the other side of the Arb, which was pretty neat. There wasn’t any snow yet, but dad said that when we got the first good snow, he would take David and me sledding in the Arb like we used to do.

After that he drove us to Krazy Jim’s and we got hamburgers, fries and Cokes for lunch. I got mine with pickles and onions and mustard, though not the spicy mustard dad got. I thought that stuff tasted good on a hamburger but not on a hotdog. David got his with just ketchup, just like on his hotdogs. Then dad took us back home. David and I got out of the car but dad stayed in it and watched us until we were inside the front door and then he drove off.

***

When we got home mom was up in her room sitting on her bed. I peeked in and she had all the bills spread out in front of her on the bed and she was writing stuff down on her yellow pad. She looked up at me. She looked worried and her eyes were watery but she tried to smile.

“Oh good, you’re back”, she said, using a kleenex to wipe her eyes, “Did your father say anything about what’s happening?”

“No”, I said, “He told us about how you two met each other, came to Ann Arbor, got married and then me and David were born.”

“Okay”, she said, taking a big breath and blowing it out, “The three of us need to talk about what’s happening next. Get your brother and we’ll have a family meeting downstairs at the dining table.” She got up off her bed and looked out one of her windows for a second as I went back to get David, but he was standing right there in the hall looking at me.

“Mom wants to have a family meeting downstairs at the dining table”, I said to him.

“About what?” he asked. It made me mad that he asked, like I was supposed to know what the hell was going on. I FELT like it was something bad, but I didn’t KNOW anything.

“I guess we’ll find out in a minute, won’t we”, I said, sounding kind of mad. David looked worried.

Mom was now behind me in the doorway to her room. “Downstairs guys”, she said, “I have important news.” David and I went down the stairs, not running down like we usually did. We sat in the white metal “Herman Miller” chairs on the side of the dining table by the new “Pie Cabinet” that mom had got at a garage sale and she and dad had fixed up. She sat in one of the other two chairs on the other side of the table.

“Well”, she said, “I don’t know how a parent is supposed to tell their kids news like this, so I’m just going to tell you straight out. Your father and I have decided to get a divorce.” A tear slid down her cheek from her eye.

Neither David or I said anything. There was part of me that had been wondering if this was going to happen, because I remembered when Molly’s mom and dad got divorced. But I’d tried not to think about it and hoped mom and dad would get back together.

“I don’t like to talk about it”, mom said, “But I feel like I owe you the reason why. Your father had an affair with another woman, and I’ve never felt so betrayed in my whole life. I finally confronted him about it that day in September when I cut my hand on the aluminum foil box, and he admitted that it had been going on all summer.”

She pulled a kleenex out from under her sweatshirt sleeve on her wrist, wiped her eyes and said, “Your father wants us to get back together, but I just can’t. I do appreciate that he was finally honest about it, but the fact that he lied about it all summer, and then I had to figure it out myself, I don’t feel I can ever trust him again. He said he wanted to tell me but he was afraid. What kind of relationship can you have with a partner who’s afraid to tell you the truth? I just don’t see that ever changing.” She rubbed the kleenex in her eyes again.

Every time she said “your father”, it felt like David and I had something to do with it, like we were bad because he was bad, because he was ours not hers. But I did feel bad for him, felt REALLY bad.

“Now I need to somehow convey to you two”, she said, her eyes getting watery again, “That the two of you had nothing to do with what happened, it is just a matter between your mother and father. And that said, I… we both… your father and I both love you guys very much. I hope you know that. He and I both feel terrible that you guys have to go through this, but I just can’t go on living with him, being his wife and having him be my husband. I don’t know if you can understand that, but I’ve always tried to be honest with you two, and I’m not going to stop now.” She finally stopped talking, and David and I didn’t say anything.

My mind was wondering so many things. Why did this have to happen to us? It didn’t happen to my friends’ parents, well except Molly’s, but that was a long time ago. There’s no way I could tell my friends. I would have to pretend all the time that my mom and dad lived together and weren’t divorced, or else my friends might start thinking I was some strange kid from a “broken home” who was all sad and messed up that they wouldn’t want to talk to.

“I know you’ll have questions and other thoughts”, she said, “This certainly will affect you so you have a right to have questions and concerns. It’s a lot to process and try to figure out, I know.” Mom always said that she knew stuff, like she had everything figured out, and I didn’t like that, because right now I couldn’t figure ANYTHING out. But I didn’t say anything, and David didn’t say anything either.

She nodded slowly and said, “Anytime either of you want to talk, I’m here. We’ll…”, and she couldn’t say the words for a moment because she was trying not to cry but the tears slid down her cheeks, “We’ll get through this. It’ll be okay.” Now I was feeling bad for HER instead of me. But I still couldn’t figure out anything to say, so I nodded really fast to let her know that it would be okay, even though I didn’t really know that it would be. She saw me nod and she smiled a little bit.

“Will we still see dad?” David asked. That scared me. I figured we would but what if mom said we wouldn’t.

“Of course you will sweetie”, she said, looking at him and smiling, “He’s still your dad. You’ll see him at least a couple times a week, and once he finds a place of his own to live, you’ll spend some weekends at his place.” David nodded, thinking.

I felt like, if I was still in charge of myself, I should ask something or at least SAY something.

“Is everybody going to know about it?” I asked. Mom pushed her lips together and nodded slowly.

“Yeah”, she said, “That’s a good question. I’m certainly going to tell my friends; Joan, Lennice, Matilda. I share things like this with my friends or what’s the point of having friends. I feel like I should tell your teachers, but I can ask them not to tell anyone else. I’m not going to go telling everybody, but if someone I know asks me, I’m not going to lie.”

She looked down at the table and ran her fingers along the shiny top part, feeling what she called the “patina”, and said, “Unfortunately, news like this has a way of spreading. I remember when Joan… Molly’s mom and dad got divorced, people found out. So other people WILL probably find this out too, your friends may even find out. That’s probably not what you want to hear, but I’m just trying to be honest with you guys.” If my friends find out, I thought, that would be BAD.

But as usual, she was probably right about that. My friend Mike figured out that dad wasn’t living with us anymore because of something his dad had said to him. I guess Mike’s dad was a college professor too, and knew some of dad’s friends. Mike had asked me if it was true and I didn’t say that it wasn’t. But at least he hadn’t told anyone else, and promised he wouldn’t. I actually kind of liked it that HE knew, but I didn’t want Billy, or Gil, or most of the other kids at school to know.

I thought about Molly. Her mom and dad got divorced when she was five. She was really sad for a while, but then she was okay. As long as most of my friends didn’t find out, maybe I’d be okay too.