Kathy Cannon Wiechman - Not on Fifth Street

Text copyright 2017 by Kathy Cannon Wiechman All rights reserved.

Although this work centers around a real-life event, the 1937 flood of Ironton, Ohio, this is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are products of the authors imagination, and any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental.

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, please contact .

Calkins Creek

An Imprint of Highlights

815 Church Street

Honesdale, Pennsylvania 18431

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN: 978-1-62979-804-2 (hc) 978-1-62979-922-3 (e-book) Library of Congress Control Number: 2017937781

First e-book edition

H1.0

Designed by Barbara Grzeslo

Titles set in Impact

Text set in Garamond 3

In memory of my father, Albert J. Cannon, and for my daughters, Kelly and Wendy, and all caretakers of those who are different

I f Pete Brinkmeyer expected the usual winter of ice-skating and good-natured snowball fights with his brother, Gus, and best friend, Richie Weber, he was in for a huge disappointment. If he hoped for a heavy snowfall, so he and Richie could earn money shoveling sidewalks, those hopes would be drowned as well. It would be a January for the record books.

The year 1937 began innocently enough, and the storm brewing at New Years dinner wasnt Petes fault. Not entirely. If Gus needed someone to blame, he should look in the mirror. Gus was the one whod invited a girl to New Years dinner in the first place.

Gus had never done something like that before, but Gus didnt act much like Gus lately. He talked on the telephone until the party-line people complained, and he never had time for Pete anymore.

Dad had told Pete not to worry that Gus was mooning over a girl. It came with being fifteen and a high-school sophomore.

Pete was a freshman, fourteen months younger than Gus. He liked girls, too. But he didnt like any girl enough to invite her home for dinner. Especially New Years dinner. With Aunt Mary and the whole family.

Traditionally, January 1 was a family day for the Brinkmeyers. Mass in the morning at Saint Joes, followed by brunch at Aunt Marys house. Aunt Mary baked coffee cakes that would make Pope Pius condone the deadly sin of gluttony.

The Great Depression that had enveloped the entire country in the last several years had hit Dads widowed sister hard, and Pete knew Dad slipped her money to keep the wolf from the door, as he put it.

Aunt Mary provided New Years brunch, but the family always brought her to their house for dinner. A holiday dinner. In the dining room!

Mom had added roasted catfish to the customary baked ham and potatoes this year. It was the only way Aunt Mary had agreed to be there. After all, January 1 of 1937 fell on a Friday.

Even though the bishop had granted a special holy-day dispensation from meatless Friday, Aunt Mary said, I havent eaten meat on Friday in my entire life, and Im not going to start now.

Fish for a holiday dinner was only the beginning of a very different New Years Day. What had Gus been thinking, inviting Venus Marlowe to a family dinner? This family dinner?

Four-year-old Timmy stared at Venus from the minute she walked in. The girl wore lipstick, for crying out loud!

Are you a girl? Timmy asked. Or a lady?

And seven-year-old Etta kept trying to touch the blonde curls that swirled around Venuss head like a halo.

But it was Pete who started the uproar. Unintentionally.

He asked innocent questions, polite ones. Are you in Guss class at Saint Joes? Do you have Sister Ignatius for English?

Gus answered for Venus. Shes not in my class. She doesnt go to Saint Joes. She doesnt even live in Ironton. She lives across the river in Russell.

Doris Stowe in my bridge club lives in Russell, Mom said. She belongs to Holy Family parish in Ashland.

Russell and Ashland were on the Kentucky side of the Ohio River, just a bridge away from Ironton, Ohio, where the Brinkmeyers lived.

Pete didnt understand the hard look in Guss eyes, usually meant as a signal to shut his trap, but Pete hadnt said a single embarrassing word about his brother. It wasnt like the time hed told all the boys on the Knights baseball team that Guss real name was Augustine.

But thoughts swirling in Petes head had a way of coming out his mouth. Is Venus your real name? Is there a Saint Venus? Or were you named for the planet?

Venus smiled at Petes questions. I was named for a famous Greek statue called Venus de Milo, but my mom calls me Venus de Marlowe. Venus giggled a nervous laugh while Guss stare dang-near burned a hole right through the bridge of Petes nose.

Named for a statue. Did you hear that, Mary? Mom asked, as though Aunt Mary werent sitting right there the whole time.

At least they didnt name you Aphrodite. Dad winked at Venus when he said it.

Whos Aphrodite? Etta asked.

Pete had wondered the same thing but didnt want to ask and sound ignorant.

Aphrodite is another name for the pagan goddess Venus, Aunt Mary told her.

Ettas eyes opened wide like a frogs as Aunt Marys hand fluttered through a quick sign of the cross.

Pagan goddess? Holy saints and sinners! Pete thought. Priests went to foreign countries to convert pagans. Sister Ignatius collected pennies in a jar on her desk to adopt pagan babies. Pagans were to be prayed for, not named after.

The whole family knew Aunt Marys feelings about religion, including her opinion on names. Babies were to be named after saints. Names not duly canonized were not considered. Amen.

Pete had spoken without thinking, but Mom had goaded Aunt Mary. And now Gus looked as though his head might explode. Pete didnt know anything about ancient gods and goddesses anyway. He needed to switch the conversation to a safer subject.

Do you know Frankie Bauman? he asked Venus. He goes to school at Holy Family?

I dont go to Holy Family, she answered. I go to Russell County High. Im not Catholic.

Aunt Mary gasped and crossed herself again.

I see, Mom said. We say grace before we pass the food, but you dont need to join in if you dont want to.

I may not be Catholic, Venus said, a slight edge to her voice, but Catholics arent the only folks who say grace. Me and my mom pray all the time.

Pete liked Venuss bold attitude, but he knew it wouldnt sit well with his parents and Aunt Mary. He hadnt intended for his innocent question to cause his strict Catholic family to rain judgment down on poor Venus. And he sure didnt mean to cause the flood that came next.

T he next question came from Etta. What about your dad? Doesnt he pray, too?

My father doesnt live with us. I havent seen him in years. Him and my mom are divorced.

Ettas open mouth made her frog eyes look small, and Pete was almost certain he heard Aunt Mary fishing in her pocket for her rosary beads.

Whats vorced? asked Timmy.

Hush, Aunt Mary told him.

It might have been the hurt look on Venuss face, but Mom turned sweeter than the lone candy cane still hanging on the Christmas tree. She heaped enough ham on Venuss plate to feed the whole familyand a camp of hobos at the rail yard. Moms answer to every problem was food.

The table grew painfully quiet. Dad said the ham was good, and Mom nodded. They both ignored Aunt Marys disapproving look before she asked Gus to pass the fish.