his arch rival, her and her hair all up on top of her head, this jackknife beak of a nose, the nuns uniformly loving her because she always had all the answers to everything rolling off her tongue like freshly minted gold coins, all the presidents of the United States in the correct order, when did the Romans invade England, who killed Julius Caesar, recite the beginning of the Gospel of St. John in the original Latin, what is the Mason-Dixon Line, when did Illinoisbecome a state, in what Shakespeare play do the words âTo Be or Not To Be,â take place, what is the name of the pond where Thoreau lived, what is the name of the police force at the Vatican, the Tiber River flows through what city, what are the names of the three Persons in the Holy Trinity, define âmarsupial,â who discovered the South Pole, what color are polar bears under their white fur, what makes a marsupial a marsupial ⦠? And Little Joannie Korzenowski would know it all, smug and prim and superior.
âShe probably ended up a waitress!â said Ellen sneeringly, Buzz wanting to answer,
So, waitresses are just as sacred, just as much of the sacred divine universal flesh as anyone else
, but instead clammed up as they moved from Upper Middle Class neighborhoods into Lower Upper and she turned off the lake west, into frozen wastelands of imitation chateaux and imitation Tudor mansions, French Provincial, mansard roofs, gables, brick, brownstone, slate roofs, even a rare Prairie School/Maya temple set solidly into the landscape like it had grown there.
âI wonder whatever happened to Willy Bocanegra â¦â Buzz breaking the silence as they started moving back down the social scale, from C two octaves above Middle C, down to one octave above, C, B, A, G, F, E ⦠stopped solidly on E ⦠everything small, neat, perfect in its own way, but more âumble, shopkeepers and old professors, not robber barons, M.D.s, administrators, wheelers and dealers ⦠now they were in the world of those being administrated, wheeled and dealt with â¦
Willy Bocanegra.
There had been two main groups in their grammar school class, the solidly middle class Irish, and the uncertain, wildlyfluctuating, anything-possible Italians. And Willy Bocanegra had been like solidly in the middle of the anything-possible, lots of hair, a round, tough bull-face, an expression that varied from threatening to very threatening. No one ever messed with him. Even the nuns had backed off, let him alone, some kind of tacit agreement agreed on for his eight years of grammar schoolâthis guy was gonna pass, get him outta there, that was the main objective.
âHeâs probably loaded, Cosa Nostra ⦠who knows ⦠â
âLouise Gentry?â
âDonât ask me! Youâre the only one Iâve kept any ties with over the years.â
âIt didnât take a lot to impress us in those days. Like they had a summer cottage someplace in Michigan, remember that. âWeâll be spending the summer at our summer cottage in Michigan.â And her father had a Buick Roadmaster, the one with the four holes in the side. We always had a Super. And they belonged to the South Shore Country Club. And she always wore everything beige and talked with a little lisp ⦠â
âThat impressed you, the lisp?â laughed Ellen as they pulled into the driveway of their little brick house, as unpretentious as possible, just plain brick, an iron railing (painted black) on each side of the steps that lead up to the front door, smoke coming out of the chimney, the front steps, driveway, even the sidewalk all shoveled clean.
âI see Fredâs been busy. Heâll be all exhausted and grumpy now, sound asleep in his big chair by the fireplace. Weâll be lucky to rouse him at all ⦠or maybe I should say unlucky to rouse him at all ⦠â
Parking in the driveway, all of them tumbling out into the snow. It
âShe probably ended up a waitress!â said Ellen sneeringly, Buzz wanting to answer,
So, waitresses are just as sacred, just as much of the sacred divine universal flesh as anyone else
, but instead clammed up as they moved from Upper Middle Class neighborhoods into Lower Upper and she turned off the lake west, into frozen wastelands of imitation chateaux and imitation Tudor mansions, French Provincial, mansard roofs, gables, brick, brownstone, slate roofs, even a rare Prairie School/Maya temple set solidly into the landscape like it had grown there.
âI wonder whatever happened to Willy Bocanegra â¦â Buzz breaking the silence as they started moving back down the social scale, from C two octaves above Middle C, down to one octave above, C, B, A, G, F, E ⦠stopped solidly on E ⦠everything small, neat, perfect in its own way, but more âumble, shopkeepers and old professors, not robber barons, M.D.s, administrators, wheelers and dealers ⦠now they were in the world of those being administrated, wheeled and dealt with â¦
Willy Bocanegra.
There had been two main groups in their grammar school class, the solidly middle class Irish, and the uncertain, wildlyfluctuating, anything-possible Italians. And Willy Bocanegra had been like solidly in the middle of the anything-possible, lots of hair, a round, tough bull-face, an expression that varied from threatening to very threatening. No one ever messed with him. Even the nuns had backed off, let him alone, some kind of tacit agreement agreed on for his eight years of grammar schoolâthis guy was gonna pass, get him outta there, that was the main objective.
âHeâs probably loaded, Cosa Nostra ⦠who knows ⦠â
âLouise Gentry?â
âDonât ask me! Youâre the only one Iâve kept any ties with over the years.â
âIt didnât take a lot to impress us in those days. Like they had a summer cottage someplace in Michigan, remember that. âWeâll be spending the summer at our summer cottage in Michigan.â And her father had a Buick Roadmaster, the one with the four holes in the side. We always had a Super. And they belonged to the South Shore Country Club. And she always wore everything beige and talked with a little lisp ⦠â
âThat impressed you, the lisp?â laughed Ellen as they pulled into the driveway of their little brick house, as unpretentious as possible, just plain brick, an iron railing (painted black) on each side of the steps that lead up to the front door, smoke coming out of the chimney, the front steps, driveway, even the sidewalk all shoveled clean.
âI see Fredâs been busy. Heâll be all exhausted and grumpy now, sound asleep in his big chair by the fireplace. Weâll be lucky to rouse him at all ⦠or maybe I should say unlucky to rouse him at all ⦠â
Parking in the driveway, all of them tumbling out into the snow. It
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