THE S CLUB

Harvey Quail’s Silver cloud turned up Boom’s driveway. “Children,” hollered Boom, ”Your father is here.” The Silver cloud stopped. Harvey stepped out of the car wearing a three-piece suit even though it was Saturday morning. His skin was pink like Spam and his hair was white like Santa Claus. His eyes were open wide and blue. He shaved meticulously and there was something vague and affluent about him that always reminded of you of the Wizard of Oz. And in a way, he was the Wizard of Oz; how else could have afforded his mansion, his tennis courts, his new wife and, needless to say, Boom for all those years?

“Well, how is married life?” asked Boom popping her eyes in a patronizing fashion.

“Fine for your information,” he answered in a remote tone. His movements were slow moving and ponderous. He had a post cardiac attack gait.

This time Harvey had married a spouse twenty-six years younger than himself. She was, of course, attractive. She was, also, a Mount Holyoke graduate. She used Estee Lauder cosmetics and pulled her hair back in a bun.

“Harvey,” said Boom, ”you don’t look well.”

“I feel fine,” he said defensively. He looked her straight in the eye. ”I really do.”

Boom knew better.

“Well you know how it goes in the fall,” the business gets very busy in preparation for the winter”

“Is that all?” she said.

Like it or not, there will always be a bond between Harvey and Boom. She is the mother of his children and then they grew to hate each other, only to divorce and, in turn, learn to tolerate each other.

“I am afraid that I am not happy again,” he said from the core of his heart.

Neil, Chris, and Farley burst into the kitchen.

“Hi Pop,” screamed Farley. She grabbed him like he was floating flotsam in the wake of a sinking ship.

“Oh Daddy, Neil and Chris have been so horrible to me,” she then cried uncontrollably. ”I want to live with you. I have to. I have to...” She said in a half theatrical, half real, or else.” Harvey held his shivering daughter in his hands. He slowly rocked her back and forth. He kissed her on the forehead and pretended that everything was going to be all right.

“Dad, you should tell that little bitch to pipe down,” snarled Neil.

“Neil,” said Harvey, “just shut up. Maybe you are the one that should pipe down. Maybe I’ll just boot you out of this house to military school.” A wonderful sly smile rose on Farley’s wet face. Harvey’s heart pounded hard into her ear. “I mean it,” he added.

I hope you children have packed your toothbrushes,” reminded Boom Boom. “You children are costing your father a fortune in dental bills.”

“Ah Mom, it’s the weekend, I don’t have to brush my teeth on the weekends,” whined Chris,” Do I Dad? Do I? ”

“It’s your teeth, Son,” said Harvey with a sageous grin. “But I would appreciate it, if you would brush your teeth. I know Ann (his new wife) would like to do so as well.”

“Does that mean I have to?” Chris countered.

“Yes,” said Harvey with a chuckle.

“Well, I lost my toothbrush,” said Chris, ”Neil flushed it down the toilet.”

“I did not asshole,” said Neil pounding Chris in the vertebrae with his fist clenched in a special way. “Have a knuckler,” yelled Neil.

“Neil stop,” shrieked Chris.

Neil walloped Chris again and all his frustration was felt through out the room.

Chris was hurt. He screamed so loud, he sounded like Farley

“Neil, God damn you, stop!” gasped Harvey. His pink skin turned an otherworldly white. Harvey felt his right arm suddenly hurl into a nosedive and fall far beyond the tile floor to the black eternity that lay beneath it. His heart could have easily burst then. He pivoted on his right heel and walked to the satin white settee in the living room. He no longer heard their voices. His face was beaded with sweat. He reached for a small vial in his vest pocket. He swallowed a small white capsule and looked up at Boom.

Neither of them was going to forget the look on each other’s faces.

Again it was cocktail time and Mother had me serving cheddar cheese and crackers to our guest.

“Well” said Boom, “I find Jack Kennedy the most irresistible President this country has ever had. And I love what Jackie had done to the White House.”

“I like his Civil Rights legislation,” said my mother bravely.

“I hate what he has done for Civil Rights,” announced my father. “Nobody is created equal.” He paused. “That is a horrible knee-jerk liberal lie.”

My mother glared at my father.

“I don’t know too much about that,” said Boom returning to her train of thought. “I just think that he is so handsome and good looking. He can put his shoes under my bed, anytime.”

My mother titled her head to my father.

“Oh Dot,” said my mother grinning merry little squints at Boom’s outlandishness.

“Well, I would,” she reiterated putting her hands on her silken hips for emphasis. “Honey,” she said to me, “would make your Auntie Boom another little drink, please?”

“And this time,” said Father, “it’s a jigger full of gin and the rest tonic water.”

“O.K.” I said taking Boom’s glass.

“I can’t see how two intelligent sweet women can talk about Kennedy like that,” my father began. “His father is thief. Joe Kennedy ruined my father and he is one of those bastards who made money during the depression. I hate Joe Kennedy and I hate his son.”

Father stopped and sipped his drink. “And for your information, I think Jackie looks more like an overgrown muskrat, when she bouffants her hair and wears all those ridiculous furs.”

I gave Boom her drink. She tasted and said “Par excellence, Merci.” She winked and then turned to my father and told him that he was the most narrow-minded and sick thing he had heard all evening. “And as much as I hate to say it,” she sighed. “You are absolutely right about Jackie.”

Suddenly she clapped her hands; dizzy in her gin and dissonance, she laughed with father in one long marvelous howl. The laughter cadenced into a “I told you so:” rhythm. Mother wiped tears from her cheek.

“The one thing I can’t understand,” said Boom, “is why she has to fly to Greece.”

“Oh,” said my mother, ”Jack thinks that will help her get over the loss of her baby.”

“Wasn’t that terrible?” added my mother. My mother once lost a baby. The baby was a little girl. She would have been older than me and her name was Juliet. Mother says that she was the most beautiful baby. Mother also says it was the hospital that killed her. She never says much more than that. “It is a terrible thing to get over. I was so depressed and unhappy, the old man,” she then pointed to my father, ”let me go visit my mother for a week.”

Mother then turned to me, ”Oh honey, I am afraid it’s grown up time now.” She smiled and I left.