Far Creek Road: A Novel by Lesley Krueger

Author:Lesley Krueger
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ECW Press
Published: 2023-10-24T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

We got Norman his aquarium a couple of weeks later, ten days after the first air raid siren went off. My terrible week was over by then, my father having explained about the Cold War, making me feel a little better. Not entirely better. Jangled, and more than normally puzzled by all the unexpected events that kept raising their heads. Or maybe I just noticed them more, and questioned them more, made nervous by the sirens and the Bomb and the way my eyes could melt any minute, life becoming a calm before the storm.

Still, Norman got his aquarium. Technically, he’d needed to save more of his allowance, and that was just for the tank. But Rosa had topped him up after a good weekend babysitting. My parents’ failure to gossip about New Year’s Eve had allowed Rosa to launch a lucrative business. It was a piece of luck to be among the first of so many children born after the war. Rosa gave Norman enough money not only for the ten-gallon package but for aquatic plants and as many fish as he wanted, at least once the aquarium was up and running.

“I thought that saving your allowance was good for you,” I said. “Isn’t that what your dad said?”

We were out for Thursday errands, with Bunny just pulling into a space in the pet store parking lot.

Norman shrugged. “Rosa decided, so he couldn’t say anything.”

“You can’t feel sorry for yourself all the time about your sister,” Bunny said, looking in the rearview mirror after she pulled to a stop.

I was surprised, but Norman was listening.

“In this life, you need to toughen up.”

“I already did,” Norman said.

“Fair enough,” Bunny replied, and yanked on the emergency brake. “Go get your aquarium. They can help you carry it. I need a smoke.”

I wondered if she needed a smoke because she’d gone into my father’s office with us. Mr. German had been there, and he’d called her Maureen. “Well, look. Here’s Maureen shepherding the lambs.” I’d wanted to say, “Muriel,” but knew I couldn’t and it nearly killed me. Bunny didn’t seem very happy either, but she’d only said, “Hello there, Art. Nice day, isn’t it.”

Inside the store, we looked for the boss, with Norman having an idea that he might give us a discount. But all we saw was the fish and bird manager, gangly and officious, a word I’d heard my Aunt Magda use about his particular type of idiot.

“Where’s Mr. Oliver?” I asked.

The fish and bird manager didn’t know who I was talking about.

“The boss? Mr. Oliver? Lucy Oliver’s father?”

“Mr. Duffy,” he said, and the penny dropped. Mr. Duffy was the man who’d got divorced and moved back home to take care of his mother in the house at the top of Far Creek Road. I’d only ever seen him from a distance riding his bicycle in shorts and knee socks and the type of sandals Mrs. Horton wore. But my mother’s friends liked to talk about him over coffee, opinions ranging from his wife being a tramp to not being able to blame her.

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