Read Online After the Fog by Kathleen Shoop - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kathleen Shoop
Tags: Fiction, Historical
Ads: Link
It’ll be as if you signed on a shift the day you graduate from high school. Hell, why even finish high school if that’s your plan?”
“But—”
Rose shook her head. “And now look it here, all your yammering has influenced your sister. Do you know how smart that girl is? And she’s plotting a life sewing of all things.”
“I’m trying to tell you I have other opportunities.”
Johnny felt his legs go rubbery and he sat on the bed. Why did he think they could talk about this, that he could change her mind? She had taught him to be strong. This was his chance to show her he learned that lesson. He swallowed and stood back up, looking at his mother right in the eye.
“I just want you to know I, uh, might take those opportunities.”
Rose sighed. Now she took his hand, stepping forward, forcing him to sit back on the bed. She re-combed his immaculate hair. He waited for her to rant, but she didn’t. Maybe the Magdalena thing took more out of her than he realized.
“My parents died of the flu when I was two; I lived in that wretched orphanage. Every time we save money, someone in this family loses it or steals it or borrows it. Not to mention the depression years. It took almost nothing to go from having everything we needed to buy a house to nil. If a person’s wealth is in his mind, an education, that can’t ever be taken away. That’s the safest investment a person can make.”
“I would say the same is true for a musician. A good one.”
His mother was petrified of losing him in a mill accident or to booze, or to a lazy girl who couldn’t keep house. But Johnny had no intention of working in a blistering mill. His mother simply didn’t know how good he was at music.
“It’s my job to tell you what to do,” Rose said. “It wouldn’t be responsible if I didn’t open up the world to you, so then you can make the choices you want. That’s what’s wonderful about America. The parents just have to be smart enough to know their kids can do better than them and care enough to make it happen. So, when you talk to the football scouts this weekend. Don’t say ‘yunz.’ They’ll look at you different if you speak properly than if you speak like a buffoon. You’ll go to college. You don’t have a choice. End of discussion.”
“Julliard is a college—”
They locked stares.
“I will work so hard, Mum. In New York City. I’ve talked to a fella there. No way I’ll fail. You’re my mother. I hail from Donora where the only failure is not trying. I’m not Buzzy.”
Rose’s eyes conveyed a kindness she didn’t always reveal. She put her hand on his shoulder. “You’d be better off if you were dumber. Not that you’re a genius, but you’re not dumb enough. I don’t think music school is the answer. I don’t think—”
“Hey, how ‘bout a swing around the living room before I leave for school?” He cocked his head and his lips slid into a half smile that never failed to soften his mother. Rose shook her head.
Johnny couldn’t live the life his mother had plotted for him, but he loved her so much it hurt. He was sure he could get her to go along with his plan if he tried hard enough. He had a few more days to convince her, to get her ready to meet the man who would change his life.
Johnny stood and leaned on his toes and broke into a full smile. She tilted her head and shrugged. She was clearly finding his idea reasonable. By the end of the week he might even convince her to forget about having the Notre Dame scout over for grub. By then, he might actually have everything he wanted.
He took Rose’s hand, pulled her into the hall where he’d set the Victrola spinning. He dropped the arm and the sax introduction for “In the Mood” began. Rose’s favorite song.
He spun her down the hall. His father stood there, hands in his pockets.
Johnny heard pounding on the door. “The gang’s here. Gotta get to school on time.” He broke away from Rose, glancing back to see that
“But—”
Rose shook her head. “And now look it here, all your yammering has influenced your sister. Do you know how smart that girl is? And she’s plotting a life sewing of all things.”
“I’m trying to tell you I have other opportunities.”
Johnny felt his legs go rubbery and he sat on the bed. Why did he think they could talk about this, that he could change her mind? She had taught him to be strong. This was his chance to show her he learned that lesson. He swallowed and stood back up, looking at his mother right in the eye.
“I just want you to know I, uh, might take those opportunities.”
Rose sighed. Now she took his hand, stepping forward, forcing him to sit back on the bed. She re-combed his immaculate hair. He waited for her to rant, but she didn’t. Maybe the Magdalena thing took more out of her than he realized.
“My parents died of the flu when I was two; I lived in that wretched orphanage. Every time we save money, someone in this family loses it or steals it or borrows it. Not to mention the depression years. It took almost nothing to go from having everything we needed to buy a house to nil. If a person’s wealth is in his mind, an education, that can’t ever be taken away. That’s the safest investment a person can make.”
“I would say the same is true for a musician. A good one.”
His mother was petrified of losing him in a mill accident or to booze, or to a lazy girl who couldn’t keep house. But Johnny had no intention of working in a blistering mill. His mother simply didn’t know how good he was at music.
“It’s my job to tell you what to do,” Rose said. “It wouldn’t be responsible if I didn’t open up the world to you, so then you can make the choices you want. That’s what’s wonderful about America. The parents just have to be smart enough to know their kids can do better than them and care enough to make it happen. So, when you talk to the football scouts this weekend. Don’t say ‘yunz.’ They’ll look at you different if you speak properly than if you speak like a buffoon. You’ll go to college. You don’t have a choice. End of discussion.”
“Julliard is a college—”
They locked stares.
“I will work so hard, Mum. In New York City. I’ve talked to a fella there. No way I’ll fail. You’re my mother. I hail from Donora where the only failure is not trying. I’m not Buzzy.”
Rose’s eyes conveyed a kindness she didn’t always reveal. She put her hand on his shoulder. “You’d be better off if you were dumber. Not that you’re a genius, but you’re not dumb enough. I don’t think music school is the answer. I don’t think—”
“Hey, how ‘bout a swing around the living room before I leave for school?” He cocked his head and his lips slid into a half smile that never failed to soften his mother. Rose shook her head.
Johnny couldn’t live the life his mother had plotted for him, but he loved her so much it hurt. He was sure he could get her to go along with his plan if he tried hard enough. He had a few more days to convince her, to get her ready to meet the man who would change his life.
Johnny stood and leaned on his toes and broke into a full smile. She tilted her head and shrugged. She was clearly finding his idea reasonable. By the end of the week he might even convince her to forget about having the Notre Dame scout over for grub. By then, he might actually have everything he wanted.
He took Rose’s hand, pulled her into the hall where he’d set the Victrola spinning. He dropped the arm and the sax introduction for “In the Mood” began. Rose’s favorite song.
He spun her down the hall. His father stood there, hands in his pockets.
Johnny heard pounding on the door. “The gang’s here. Gotta get to school on time.” He broke away from Rose, glancing back to see that