My Mother is Now Earth by Mark Anthony Rolo

Author:Mark Anthony Rolo
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-87351-859-8
Publisher: Minnesota Historical Society Press
Published: 2012-12-11T16:00:00+00:00

My mother tells Philly to go inside and wrap a fresh loaf of her bread in tinfoil. She won’t take no for an answer when she offers Irene and Hank Cloutier her bread. Irene tries to hand her two cartons of eggs. The Cloutiers said the old man came by the house saying he needed the egg money to buy some quarts of oil for his Oldsmobile, that the used engine had a leak in it. But my mother tells her to keep the eggs. She insists.

As always, Hank gets out of the car to smoke his cigarette, and Irene stays in the front seat, holding and playing with my brother Robert. My brothers and I sit on the grass along the driveway, smiling. Irene likes to try and tickle us if we get too close to her. My mother leans against the Cloutiers’ white car with her arms folded, close to her chest. She stares at the red sun falling in the cold spring evening.

“He had that glazed look in his eye, Irene,” my mother says. “I knew he’d never take no for an answer. And I was just too damn tired to fight with him. So I said, ‘Go ahead, Don. They’re under the basement steps. Take those eggs. Get drunk off your ass.’”

“How can you get drunk on a few dozen eggs?” Irene says, laughing.

“Ah, he’s a bullshitter,” my mother says. “Don gets to talking to someone, then offers to buy him a drink, and before you know it, he’s getting two free drinks for the one he bought.”

Philly returns with the loaf of bread, and Irene says she must have a bite. She nods and tells my mother she should think about selling her bread and cinnamon rolls along with her eggs. But my mother only smiles and tells Irene that she doesn’t think anyone would buy her bread. “Everyone knows how to bake bread.”

“Hey, Irene,” I say. “You want some lilacs?”

“You got lilacs?”

“Yeah, didn’t you see ’em when you drove up?” “Go get a bunch,” my mother says.

“I love lilacs,” Irene says. “We don’t have a lilac bush.” She winks at us and smiles. “I keep telling Hank to steal some from the Nelsons next door. They smell so pretty. But they don’t bloom for long, I tell him. You have to get them now. But he never listens to me, so we go another year without.”

I snap off the lilacs and tell Scott to hold out his arms. I grab some for my mother as well.

When we return to the driveway, my mother is rocking Robert in her arms. Irene buries her nose in the flowers and giggles. “They tickle,” she says, catching me off guard, pinching my gut.

Hank takes one more drag of his cigarette and says they should be heading home. My mother hands over Robert to Philly. Irene’s smile disappears, and she leans her head out the window, whispering to my mother. “You know about Moose Lake, Corrine? It’s a place for people to dry out.

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