Genevieve; Spring Rushes Forth by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Chapter 4

Schaller, Mom, and her two sisters; property of the author.

“Mom told me that she and her two sisters were cranky in this photo; as they were standing there waiting for it to be taken for what seemed like tiresome hours. You see, that’s Schaller on the left and he refused to stand up. Eventually Grandma snapped the picture with him lying down. She never would have tolerated that kind of obstinate poor behavior from one of the girls.

Getting back to the television story, Dad wasn’t much of a talker unless you asked him the mechanics of how to do something. I’m guessing that he didn’t much appreciate that Schaller was a talkative bachelor who told everyone how good he was at everything. At the time, 1954, it was that he knew how to

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fix TV sets. .......... Don’t you want to take a look at the new flowers?”

Wailer, who just happened to be the only female kitten in the vicinity constantly surrounded by four boys said; “No, no.

We’ll see them anytime we’d like later.” She visually scanned her siblings, and receiving no open disapproval added; “Please continue on with your story.”

Genevieve smiled at Wailer and continued; “I came back out of the bedroom when I heard Dad’s footsteps. He had entered from an adjoining room and quickly sized up the situation. Saying nothing and with his head down on the floor, Dad solemnly walked to the back of the TV and Schaller. He surveyed the internal meltdown of his TV, and no doubt concluded that his TV was now completely dead thanks entirely to Schaller and his constantly overstated abilities; precisely what irked Dad to begin with.

To put things in a bit of a context which may not be obvious, I’d like to emphasize just how expensive TV’s were in those days. Retail prices were in excess of $1,000; while people like my Dad were lucky to be getting $40 per week, pre-tax. So, Schaller was standing there looking partially tarred and feathered, correctly thinking that he had just messed up big time.

Dad was just a tad short of the era’s ‘Big Maltese’

yardstick and Schaller was well into the ‘Little Maltese’ zone.

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Totally out of character for both of them Schaller was subdued and verbally sheepish, while Dad eventually opened his mouth wide. Dad said a resolute, disgusted, serious, and do-not-further-mess-with-me; ‘Out.’

Schaller started to mumble some nonsensical incoherence about what had happened; that incoherence incompetently suggesting, like all contractors are first taught and well versed in standardly replicating when needed, without being hampered by any burdens remotely related to the hazards of relevant thought, that the calamity was the fault of someone else. Dad had heard this ancient nonsense numerous times, and chose not to get bogged down in the ‘the-cloozitz-coupler-went-thisaway-when-it-should-have-went-thataway-blah-blah’ detail.

Dad’s voice went up a few octaves saying; ‘Just get out of here.’

Schaller pressed his luck and physical well-being through a continuation which began and ended with; ‘You have to understand

........ ‘

Dad said; ‘I don’t have to understand anything when I can plainly see the pitiful results. For God’s sake, you broke it.

The thing is expensive!’ He then barked as loudly as I ever heard him bark; ‘OUT NOW!!’

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Genevieve’s taller Dad next to Schaller; property of the author.

All this time, Mom was in another room lying on her stomach. I think that she was faking some sort of abdominal discomfort in order that she not have to be bothered with the mundane travails of the day. I had previously thought that I had detected such a pattern in her.”

In a voice near the border of chastising, Sunshine said;

“You couldn’t have been sure of that.”

Genevieve said; “Of course not. It really doesn’t matter the least bit anyway. Have it your way. Any way you’d prefer.”

Sunshine’s eyes batted. Their rapidity was consistent with what happens when one experiences a grand mal seizure (big epileptic fit) or if he had simultaneously gotten a fly in both of his eyes.

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The rest of Sunshine’s otherwise normal demeanor suggested nothing as serious as an epileptic fit, so Genevieve assumed a fly or two at the worst of possible cases, more likely a simple incredulous eyelash bat; as opposed to an ominous bat.

Ominous bat; property of the author.

Genevieve actually would have preferred to go outside to see the budding flowers, but she decided to finish her television story as it was now near its end anyway. Glorious rides invaded her head as she remembered her Pacific Lane carnival idea.

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