Aberration of Starlight

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The next morning he saw that his mother’s eyes were red and he knew that she had been crying. Things were very strange at the house when they all had breakfast, his grandfather seemed very loud and happy, and talked about how the weather was changing, fall was definitely in the air, almost time to get back to the old grind, but it would be a relief. He even spoke to Tom the same way, all smiles and jokes, but it gave Billy the creeps. His mother sat very quietly, picking at her breakfast and leaving her second cup of coffee half-drunk. For some reason, everybody else was as loud as his grandfather, but their voices were phony and reminded Billy of how the kids in school talked when they put on a pageant for Open School assembly. Mrs. Schmidt was even waving her arms around the way Wanita Whiteman did when she played Lady Freedom last term. Tom smiled and smiled but Billy didn’t remember him saying a word except to excuse himself to go out on the porch and smoke his pipe. When breakfast was over, Tom wasn’t on the porch. Billy wanted to go and look for him, not to ask him anything about his grandfather yelling, he just wanted to be with him, but then it was time for mass and they went to the white wooden church in Mr. Sapurty’s car. Mrs. Schmidt usually went in Mr. Copan’s car but she said that the weather was bothering her arthritis, and when they left she was sitting on the porch with his grandfather and Dave Warren, who wasn’t a Catholic, at least he never went to mass. At mass, his mother didn’t seem to be paying attention to anything and when they rang the bell she didn’t even beat her chest or bow her head, just stared right in front of her so that he was afraid the priest even might say something to her.

When they got back, his mother changed into a pinafore and came downstairs and then she and his grandfather went across the road and sat together on the church steps and Billy was afraid that his grandfather was going to start yelling at her again. He was standing in front of her and a couple of steps lower and swinging his stick back and forth and talking and talking right into her face. His mother kept looking past him at the far fields where the cows were grazing, tiny black-and-white and brown-and-white dots, they looked like little toys in the hazy sunlight. His mother came across the road when the dinner bell rang and his grandfather followed, but she went upstairs and at the table he said that she had a headache and wanted to lie down for a while. Tom came in late and excused himself, saying that he’d taken a long walk, and then he started to talk to his grandfather about the wonderful collie that Mr. O’Neill down the road had, yes, he’d had a long talk with him that morning and did his grandfather know that Mr. O’Neill fed the dog a pint of heavy cream in the morning, a sirloin steak in the afternoon, and another pint of cream at night? That was all he got. His grandfather said that Mr. O’Neill was a wonderful man and had raised prize-winning collies all his life, he had one, a big dog named Harriet, that had been the most beautiful dog that he’d ever seen, but she was killed about five years ago by some damn fool in a coupe that took a curve on two wheels. Then they were silent and all that Billy heard was Mrs. Schmidt talking at the next table about her relatives in Germany and how happy they were that everything was beginning to be the way it was before the terrible war and how this Hitler was doing wonders and how he wanted only peace for the German people. Tom looked up at the ceiling with a little smile on his face, smoothing his moustache with his fingers. It wasn’t a very nice smile but Tom didn’t say a word.

In the afternoon, Tom took him and the Copan girls swimming— nobody else felt like going because it had clouded up and got a little chilly, and his mother was still up in her room with a headache. It was cold at the lake, and after about an hour or even less, Tom said that he thought they really ought to get home before they all came down with the chills. When they got back, Tom changed into a pair of slacks and a sweater and said that he had to go into Hackettstown to take care of some business matters and make some phone calls and probably wouldn’t be back for supper. He told Mrs. Stellkamp that he was going to really try, though, because he didn’t want to miss the bread pudding that she made for Sunday night dessert. She told him not to worry, she’d save him a good portion and he could have it any time he wanted. She sounded really polite, like a waitress.

After Tom left, Billy went up to his room and played with his China Clipper. The whole place was deathly silent and he wondered what everybody was doing. His grandfather wasn’t playing croquet — nobody was — and Mrs. Schmidt and Mrs. Copan, who usually sat in the sun near the kitchen garden and crocheted, weren’t there. Well, there was no sun to sit in. He walked upstairs and knocked at his mother’s door and called to her, but she said that she really wanted to rest and would see him at supper. Her voice sounded really sad and tired and he was afraid that something really bad had happened while he had been at Budd Lake. Although last night had been bad enough. It was funny that nobody even mentioned it once.

Tom didn’t come back for supper and his mother had something light, some poached eggs on toast that Eleanor took up to her room because she said that though she was feeling much better she thought it would be wise to stay in bed and rest. Mrs. Schmidt sat at their table for the first time, and in his mother’s chair! He didn’t like it much but his grandfather didn’t seem to mind a bit, he even looked like he liked it. A lot. Mrs. Schmidt was talking about him finally drawing the line and his grandfather was smiling the way Billy hated to see him smile, with his false teeth hanging out of his mouth like someone had just glued them on the inside of his lips. He didn’t want to listen to what they said because he knew it had something to do with all the yelling. They both seemed really happy about it.

After supper he hung around the church steps for a while, waiting for Tom to come back, but by nightfall he still hadn’t returned. Billy went down to the barn but Louis had finished milking and so he came back and sat on the church steps again, listening to his grandfather and Mrs. Schmidt and the Sapurtys and Copans laughing on the porch. It was all sad and really rotten to him without his mother and Tom there and he knew that it would be like this the rest of the vacation. He wanted desperately to go back to the city. Now. By the time he had to go up to brush his teeth and wash, Tom still hadn’t come back.

In the morning, Tom was at breakfast before anybody else, dressed in a suit and tie, and when everybody looked at him he said that he’d been on the phone with his boss last night and damn if the man didn’t insist on him cutting his vacation short and coming back to close a sale. It was a big deal and the salesman who had got the contact just didn’t have Tom’s “expoit” touch, so the boss demanded that he come back in. Billy loved it when Tom said things like “expoit.” He was the same Tom no matter what his grandfather did! The close would take a couple of days at the least, Tom said, and then at least a day in the office and, well, he shrugged, that just about puts the old kibosh on my vacation. Billy’s mother was pale, and when Tom went out to his car with his valises she stood on the porch watching him while his grandfather sat in a rocker watching the both of them. And Mrs. Schmidt sat in another rocker watching all three of them. Billy wanted to cheer when his mother finally went across the road and she and Tom stood together a minute talking next to his car, then they shook hands and Tom started to get into the car. But then he stopped and waved at everybody, and called “Billy!” Billy jumped off the porch and ran across the road to him, and Tom gave him a hug and rubbed his head. He grinned at him and told him not to look so sad — that he’d see him in the city just like they’d agreed. Absolutely. Positively. Absotivolutely! He got in the car then and in a minute he was gone.

No matter what Tom said, Billy felt so bad that he thought he’d cry, so he ran from where he said goodbye to Tom straight down to the barnyard and stood watching Louis’ pigs for a long time. Tom would have to be invited to come and see him in the city and his grandfather didn’t like him — Tom was right about that. Tom would never be his father, not now. If his mother only hadn’t gone to the WigWam with him maybe everything would still be all right. What was the matter with his grandfather? Maybe he yelled like that at his mother when she was still married and his father left and just never came back. Maybe, though, Tom would come, maybe.

After a time he returned to the house to get his slingshot, well, he had that. Everybody was on the lawn and he could hear the dull clack of the croquet balls being struck, and his grandfather said, “Now we’ll see how you like the woods!” The idea of them all just playing this game, just the idea of it made him angry and he went inside and into the deserted dining room. As he neared the stairs he trailed his fingers across the sideboard and they touched something. He stopped and saw that it was some kind of leather thing, a wallet or something, then he realized that it was Tom’s tobacco pouch, he’d seen it a million times. He picked it up and unzipped it, yes, the rich smell of Tom’s tobacco enveloped him. He forgot his pouch! He was rushing so much to get back to work that he just put it down and forgot it. Billy stood for a minute, then took the pouch and went upstairs to his mother’s room, hoping that she was there. He knocked at the door, then knocked again, and his mother said, “Yes?” He said that he had something to show her and she told him to come in. He turned the knob, holding Tom’s pouch before him in his other hand.