she feared was in jeopardy since, as she saw it, Erma had committed
suicide. She also tried to make us kiss Erma's corpse. We flat out
refused, but Mom went up in front of the mourners, genuflected with a
grand sweep, and then kissed Erma's cheek so vigorously that you could
hear the puckering sound throughout the chapel.
I was sitting next to Dad. It was the first time in my life I'd ever seen
him wearing a necktie, which he always called a noose. His face was
tight and closed, but I could tell he was distraught. More distraught than
I'd ever seen him, which surprised me, because Erma had seemed to have
some sort of an evil hold over Dad, and I thought he'd be relieved to be
free of it.
As we walked home, Mom asked us kids if we had anything nice to say
about Erma now that she had passed. We took a couple of steps in
silence, then Lori said. "Ding-dong, the witch is dead."
Brian and I started snickering. Dad wheeled around and gave Lori such a
cold, angry look that I thought he might wallop her. "She was my
mother, for God's sake," he said. He glared at us. "You kids. You make
me ashamed. Do you hear me? Ashamed!"
He turned down the street to Junior's bar. We all watched him go.
"You're ashamed of us?" Lori called after him.
Dad just kept walking. Four days later, when Dad still hadn't come
home, Mom sent me to go find him. "Why do I always have to get Dad?"
I asked.
"Because he likes you the best," she said. "And he'll come home if you
tell him to."
The first step in tracking down Dad was going next door to the
Freemans, who let us use their phone if we paid a dime, and calling