按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
pieces！ And the image was simply white clouds and blue sky。 No shading； no trees—nothing
but the clouds and the sky。
My father pointed to a spot in the center of the ceiling。 “I thought it would fit just right over
there。”
Uncle David looked up and nodded； then lunged for his pinwheel and said； “Owsiiide？”
“Sure。 Let's go out for a walk。 Feel like going down to McElliot's for a birthday ice cream？”
Uncle David's head bobbed up and down。 “Yaaah！”
We checked out through Josie； then headed down the street。 David can't walk very fast
because his body seems to want to move inward instead
of forward。 His feet pigeon…toe and his shoulders hunch in； and he seemed to lean on my
father pretty heavily as we moved along。
But he kept that pinwheel in front of him； watching it spin； crying every now and then；
“Oange； oange！”
McElliot's turned out to be a drugstore with an ice cream parlor inside。 There was a red…and…
white…striped awning over the ice cream counter；
and there were little white tables and chairs set in an area with red…and…white…striped
wallpaper。 It was very festive…looking； especially for being
inside a drugstore。
Dad got us all cones； and once we were sitting down； Dad and David did talk to each other
some； but mostly David wanted to eat his chocolate
fudge swirl。 My father smiled at me from time to time； and I smiled back； but I felt
disconnected。 How many times had the two of them e here for
ice cream？ How many birthdays had my father celebrated with his brother like this？ How
long had he known Mabel and Josie and the rest of the
people at Greenhaven？ How could it be that in all these years； I'd never spent any time with
my uncle？ It was like my father had a secret life away
from me。 A plete family away from me。
I didn't like it。 Didn't understand it。 And I was getting myself pretty worked up about it when
David's cone crushed in his grip； causing his ice
cream to flop onto the table。
Before my dad could stop him； David picked up the ice cream and tried to cram it back onto
the cone。 But the cone was shattered and the ice
cream fell over again； only this time it landed on the floor。
My dad said； “Leave it； David。 I'll get you a new one；” but David didn't listen。 His chair shot
back and he dove after it。
“No； David！ Let me get you a new one。” My dad pulled him by the arm； but David wouldn't
budge。 He grabbed the ice cream and crammed it
……… Page 60………
back onto what was left of his cone； and when the bottom part of his cone crumbled
pletely away； he started screaming。
It was awful。 He was like a two…hundred…pound infant； throwing a tantrum on the floor。 He
was yelling words I couldn't understand； and after a
minute of trying to calm him down； my father said； “Julianna； can you get him another cone？”
The man behind the counter scooped as fast as he could； but in that short time David
knocked over a table and two chairs with his flailing and
managed to smear chocolate everywhere。 The checkers and customers at the registers
seemed frozen with terror—like David was some sort of
monster out to destroy the world。
I gave the new cone to my father； who handed it to David； right there on the floor。 And while
David sat there eating it； my father and I worked
around him； putting everything back in order and wiping up the mess。
On the walk back to Greenhaven； David acted like nothing had happened。 He spurted into
his pinwheel and cried； “Oange！” from time to
time； but when my dad held open the front door； I could tell that David was tired。
Down in his room David placed the pinwheel on his bed and picked up the puzzle box。 “Why
don't you take a rest before you get started on it？”
my dad asked。
David shook his head。 “Naaow。”
“Okay； then。 Let me help you set it up。”
My father pulled a card table from beneath the bed； then swung the legs out and snapped
them into place。 After he had it shoved up against the
wall near the bed； he moved a chair close to it and said； “There you are。 All set up。”
David had the box open and was already sifting through the pieces。 “Aaaas a gou one；
Wobbad。”
“I'm glad you like it。 You think you might have it done by Wednesday？ I can e back and
glue it on the ceiling for you then if you'd like。”
David nodded； but he was already intent on the puzzle； carefully laying pieces on the table。
My father put his hand on his shoulder and said； “I'll
see you Wednesday then； okay？”
He nodded。
“Will you say good…bye to Julianna？”
“Baaawye；” he said； but he didn't look up from his box of pieces。
“See you later； Uncle David。” I tried to sound cheerful； but I didn't feel that way。
When we got back into the truck； my dad clicked on his seat belt and said； “So。”
I just looked at him and tried to smile。
“Are you as exhausted as I am？” he said。
I nodded。 “Everything was fine—except for the ice cream。”
Dad chuckled。 “Except for the ice cream。” Then he turned serious。 “The trouble is； you never
know what ‘the ice cream’ is going to be。
Sometimes it's a fly in the room。 Sometimes it's the feel of his socks。 It's hard to predict
everything。 Usually getting ice cream is safe。” He shook his
head and closed his eyes； thinking things I couldn't imagine。 Finally he turned the ignition
and said； “David lived with your mother and me for a while。
Before you kids were born。 We thought it would be better for him to live with us than to be in
a home； but we were wrong。”
“But overall； everything went okay today…。”
He ground the gearshift into reverse。 “David has many； many special needs； both emotional
and physical。 Your mom and I couldn't handle them
all。 Fortunately he's happy here。 They have programs to teach him how to care for himself—
how to dress and bathe and brush his teeth； how to act
around others and municate。 They go on outings； and he has a job doing mailings for a
doctor's office…。”
“He does？”
……… Page 61………
“He goes there every morning during the week to fold mailings and fill envelopes。
Greenhaven's been so good for him。 He gets an incredible
amount of individualized attention。 He has his own room； his own friends； his own life。”
After a minute I said； “But he's part of the family； Dad。 And it just doesn't seem right that he's
never been over for a visit。 Not even on Christmas or
Thanksgiving！”
“He doesn't want to； sweetheart。 One year your mother and I insisted he spend Thanksgiving
with us； and it was the biggest disaster you can
imagine。 He broke a window out of the car； he was that upset。”
“But … why haven't we been visiting him？ I know you have； but the rest of us。 Why not？”
“Well； it's draining。 Your mother finds it incredibly depressing； and I understand that。 We both
agreed that it was no place to take small children。”
He accelerated onto the highway； silent behind the wheel。 Finally he said； “The years just
seem to slip away； Julianna。 One day you have a baby in
your arms； and the next you realize she's very nearly a woman。” He smiled at me sadly。 “I
love David； but he is a burden； and I guess I wanted to
protect you from that。 But I realize now that all of this has affected you and the family。”
“But Dad； it's not—”
“Julianna； what I'm trying to tell you is I'm sorry。 There was so much I wanted to give you。 All
of you。 I guess I didn't see until recently how little I've
actually provided。”
“That's not true！”
“Well； I think you know my heart's been in the right place； but if you line it up objectively； a
man like； say； Mr。 Loski adds up to a much better
husband and father than a man like me does。 He's around more； he provides more； and he's
probably a lot more fun。”
My dad wasn't one to go fishing for pliments or signs of appreciation； but still； I couldn't
quite believe he actually thought that。 “Dad； I don't
care how it looks on paper； I think you're the best dad ever！ And when I marry somebody
someday； I sure don't want him to be like Mr。 Loski！ I want
him to be like you。”
He looked at me like he couldn't quite believe his ears。 “Is that so；” he said with a grin。 “Well；
I'll remind you of that as your someday approaches。”
That turned the rest of the trip around。 We laughed and joked and talked about all kinds of
things； but as we neared home； there was one thing
the conversation kept turning back to。
Pancakes。
My mother； though； had other plans。 She'd spent the morning scrubbing floors and nixed the
pancakes。 “I need something with more staying
power。 Like grilled ham…and…cheese。 With onions；” she said。 “Lots of onions！”
“Scrubbing floors？” my dad said。 “It's Sunday； Trina。 Why were you scrubbing floors？”
“Nervous energy。” She looked at me。 “How'd it go？”
“