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Authors: Fannie Flagg
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Wisconsin.
But at the Jurdabralinski house, Fritzi was the main attraction for both the boys and girls. She had just graduated from high school, and in her senior year, she had been voted most popular, best dancer, most athletic, biggest cutup, and most likely to succeed. Fritzi was definitely the personality kid of Pulaski High. Poppa was proud of her, but Momma worried that if Fritzi didn’t slow down for five minutes, she was never going to get a husband. If she wasn’t swimming, she was bowling or skating all night at the Rainbow Skating Rink or running up and down the roads to see how fast some car would go or running to the movies, and if she wasn’t doing that, she was busy smoking cigarettes. Momma found a half-full pack of Chesterfields hidden in her top drawer. And as usual, when he was told what his daughter wasup to, Poppa just shrugged. “She’s a modern girl, Momma. They all smoke.” Momma hoped that in the fall, when Fritzi went to work at the pickle factory, she would settle down with one of the local boys, so she wouldn’t have to worry about her so much. Momma had already said a novena and prayed to Saint Jude about it.
NOW WHAT?
P OINT C LEAR , A LABAMA
T HURSDAY , J UNE 9, 2005
T HE NEXT MORNING , E ARLE BROUGHT S OOKIE BREAKFAST IN BED AND sat down beside her and said, “Honey, do you want me to cancel my appointments and stay home with you today? I will. I just don’t think you should be alone.”
“No, I want you to go to work. I need to think this out and decide what I’m going to do.”
“Okay, whatever you want … but call me and let me know how you’re doing.”
After Earle left, Sookie did fall asleep for an hour, but when she woke up, she was still so devastated, she couldn’t get up. She called Netta and told her she had the flu and asked her if she would feed the birds. She lay in bed and cried all morning. She knew she had to talk to someone else about this—someone she could trust not to tell Lenore—so she rolled over and called her old college roommate, Dena Nordstrom, in Missouri. Dena picked up right away.
“Dena, it’s Sookie.”
“Sookie! Hello—”
“Thank God you’re home. Oh, Dena, something terrible has just happened.”
“Oh, no, has something happened to Earle?”
“No.”
“The children?”
“No.”
“Your mother?”
“No … it’s me!”
“Oh, honey, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“No,” she sobbed. “I’m Polish!”
“What?”
“Oh, it’s a long story … but … oh, Dena … this man from Texas called and said I wasn’t who I thought I was and at the time, I thought I knew who I was. But yesterday, I got a letter and found out that I was adopted—that Lenore is not my real mother and Daddy is not my real daddy either. And not only that … I’m a year older than I thought I was. I’m not even a Leo. All my life, I’ve been reading the wrong horoscope.”
“Wait a minute … are you sure about this?”
“Yes, I’m sure. October is Libra.”
“No … no … about being adopted?”
“Yes, it’s all written down. I have it right in front of me. It says that on July 31, 1945, Mr. and Mrs. Alton Krackenberry adopted a baby girl named Ginger … Jurdbberlnske or something or other Polish. Anyhow … that’s me. Or who I was supposed to be. Anyway, my real mother was born in Wisconsin, and I’m probably a Catholic to boot. You know how quick they are to baptize.”
“Oh, wow … oh … what does Lenore say about it?”
“I haven’t told her.”
“Oh … well, have you said anything to the kids, yet?”
“No, you’re the first person, besides Earle, that knows, and I knew you, being married to a psychiatrist, would understand. I just feel so confused and betrayed. Lenore knew I wasn’t her real daughter, and she went ahead and pushed me into all these things … and all under false pretenses. She always made me feel so bad because I wasn’t just like her. And I
But at the Jurdabralinski house, Fritzi was the main attraction for both the boys and girls. She had just graduated from high school, and in her senior year, she had been voted most popular, best dancer, most athletic, biggest cutup, and most likely to succeed. Fritzi was definitely the personality kid of Pulaski High. Poppa was proud of her, but Momma worried that if Fritzi didn’t slow down for five minutes, she was never going to get a husband. If she wasn’t swimming, she was bowling or skating all night at the Rainbow Skating Rink or running up and down the roads to see how fast some car would go or running to the movies, and if she wasn’t doing that, she was busy smoking cigarettes. Momma found a half-full pack of Chesterfields hidden in her top drawer. And as usual, when he was told what his daughter wasup to, Poppa just shrugged. “She’s a modern girl, Momma. They all smoke.” Momma hoped that in the fall, when Fritzi went to work at the pickle factory, she would settle down with one of the local boys, so she wouldn’t have to worry about her so much. Momma had already said a novena and prayed to Saint Jude about it.
NOW WHAT?
P OINT C LEAR , A LABAMA
T HURSDAY , J UNE 9, 2005
T HE NEXT MORNING , E ARLE BROUGHT S OOKIE BREAKFAST IN BED AND sat down beside her and said, “Honey, do you want me to cancel my appointments and stay home with you today? I will. I just don’t think you should be alone.”
“No, I want you to go to work. I need to think this out and decide what I’m going to do.”
“Okay, whatever you want … but call me and let me know how you’re doing.”
After Earle left, Sookie did fall asleep for an hour, but when she woke up, she was still so devastated, she couldn’t get up. She called Netta and told her she had the flu and asked her if she would feed the birds. She lay in bed and cried all morning. She knew she had to talk to someone else about this—someone she could trust not to tell Lenore—so she rolled over and called her old college roommate, Dena Nordstrom, in Missouri. Dena picked up right away.
“Dena, it’s Sookie.”
“Sookie! Hello—”
“Thank God you’re home. Oh, Dena, something terrible has just happened.”
“Oh, no, has something happened to Earle?”
“No.”
“The children?”
“No.”
“Your mother?”
“No … it’s me!”
“Oh, honey, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“No,” she sobbed. “I’m Polish!”
“What?”
“Oh, it’s a long story … but … oh, Dena … this man from Texas called and said I wasn’t who I thought I was and at the time, I thought I knew who I was. But yesterday, I got a letter and found out that I was adopted—that Lenore is not my real mother and Daddy is not my real daddy either. And not only that … I’m a year older than I thought I was. I’m not even a Leo. All my life, I’ve been reading the wrong horoscope.”
“Wait a minute … are you sure about this?”
“Yes, I’m sure. October is Libra.”
“No … no … about being adopted?”
“Yes, it’s all written down. I have it right in front of me. It says that on July 31, 1945, Mr. and Mrs. Alton Krackenberry adopted a baby girl named Ginger … Jurdbberlnske or something or other Polish. Anyhow … that’s me. Or who I was supposed to be. Anyway, my real mother was born in Wisconsin, and I’m probably a Catholic to boot. You know how quick they are to baptize.”
“Oh, wow … oh … what does Lenore say about it?”
“I haven’t told her.”
“Oh … well, have you said anything to the kids, yet?”
“No, you’re the first person, besides Earle, that knows, and I knew you, being married to a psychiatrist, would understand. I just feel so confused and betrayed. Lenore knew I wasn’t her real daughter, and she went ahead and pushed me into all these things … and all under false pretenses. She always made me feel so bad because I wasn’t just like her. And I
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