Patricia Bohl Wilhelm - The Last Summer and Other Stories: A Medley of Joys and Losses

THE LAST SUMMER AND OTHER STORIES

A MEDLEY OF JOYS AND LOSSES

Copyright 2014 Patricia Bohl Wilhelm. .

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

iUniverse

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.iuniverse.com

1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4917-3269-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-3271-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-3270-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014908109

iUniverse rev. date: 07/03/2014

Contents

Mark McGinley, Technical Director

Susan Gillis, Curator of Boca Raton Historical Society

Catherine Theriault, Photographer, author photo, technical assistance

Original residents of Forty Ho uses:

James and Sherry Weid

Arlene Owens

Dale Frost

Jerry Christiansen

Bernice Lamp

Rea ders:

Marie Gardner

Jack Bloom

Jenny Guastella

John Banter

Steam rising from a pair of tall blue agate kettles boiling on the stove filled Agnes Roses senses as she swung through the squeaking screen door into the downstairs kitchen where her mother pumped up and down in one of the kettles with a long wooden s poon.

It was Monday. To Agnes Rose that meant vegetable soup and bluing, the odors clouding the dark, steamy kitchen. In a corner were willow baskets heaped with shirts, waists and garments ready for the rest of the school term, another two weeks. Reaching for the blue smock with embroidered flower borders that she wore when helping with chores. She slipped it on as her fingers slid over the embroidery she had hand stitched herself as Aunt Maggie had taught her.

Back down to the kitchen, she wanted to pull her mother aside, give her a hug and tell her what wonderful news she had gotten today, but she could read Mamas mood and it was not the right time. She would have to discuss these very important things with Papa, when he had time, so involved was he with the Knights of Columbus. His election to Grand Knight of the City of New York and his introduction of the Communion Breakfast brought him prominence in the society as well as around the city. The demands of speeches, meetings, the stories in newspapers meant he was seldom able to be with the family much, even for Mass on Sundays, which had always been so impor tant.

His being a popular figure was of small comfort to Agnes Rose, his first born, Dolly, as he had called her. She missed him dearly. Not even the luxury of Sunday afternoon surrey rides with her grandfather, which Mama looked forward to, could fill the void. Grandfathers trucking business had a stable of horses, as well as, carriages, a rare treat for the children to rid e in.

Little could Agnes Rose know how precious moments with her parents would become as she silently bemoaned the lack of attention for which she longed. It was a burning that had grown as almost every year, a new baby came into the family. And now Mama was once again growing heavy and Agnes Rose would, once again, have to help that small and delicate woman (she had overheard her aunts whispers), with additional chores while studying her Latin and Greek and preparing projects for graduation. Being tops in her class carried with it responsibility, the valedictory address for the baccalaureate right after Monsignor would speak, was imminent. And, looming up were Diocesan and Regents examinations to prepare for. Then, Sister had said, if she were to score as high as she had been, she was likely to win that scholarship. That would be a first in her family for a girl. The rush pressed against her chest turning her face florid with the tho ught.

Hurrying downstairs to get some bread and jelly before the stampede would begin her younger brothers and sisters returning home from school. She could hear them now, leather shoes stomping up and down the three flights of stairs, boys calling to one another and to cousins out in the street, squeals of the girls being chased by their brothers. Only Francis and Louis behaved with more dignity. Francis, because he usually had his nose in a book, even when walking about, and Louis, probably the most intellectual of all, because he felt above it all, even looking down on his twin, Jackie, who was more fun-lo ving.

Agnes Rose, what is wrong with you, Mama was saying. Youre putting Thomas play clothes into the bl uing.

Oh, Im sorry, Mama, its just that

I havent time to discuss it now, Agnes Rose. The starch is getting thick and the rest of the children will be here any minuteyour Uncle Bill is coming over this evening, said her mother with a sigh brushing a strand of her chestnut hair into the usually neatly combed bun.

With the doorbell chime, Agnes Rose dropped her little brothers midi-blouse into the starch pot, and then ran quickly through the long hallway, where she was greeted by her cousin Maxine, in t ears.

Oh, its just awful. Its Walter! She was screaming her way into the kitchen to find her Aunt Lor etta.

Long, black curls flying, she pushed her way past Agnes Rose, to where her aunt was getting the wash ready to hang. Loretta had just put a wooden clothespin in her mouth and nearly choked when Maxine gave her the news. She said that Officer Prendergast broke the news to Josephine that her fiance had a fatal fall through a cellar grating in the street. Aunt Josie was hysterical. They were to have been married next month after a seven-year engagement. It was all she had talked a bout.

They had given her smelling salts and someone had gone to fetch Doctor Dowling. Someone would also have to get her brother, Bill, at his office. He would know what t o do.

Loretta was torn between finishing the wash, or leaving it to Agnes Rose, who seemed not quite herself today, but her duty lay with going to console her sister, Josep hine.

Agnes Rose, Loretta began bustling out the orders, when the children get home, they are to change before going out to play except for Alphonsus, who has a cold, and is to take some of this tonic. And talk to Louis, and ask him to try to calm down in school. He is getting so opinionated, I hear. The Brothers dont want to hear it. If he wants to go to the seminary next year, he has to learn to listen. Say the rosary for your Aunt Josephine. Ill be back when I can. Oh, and the babys at Aunt Hel ens.-

After both parents of the children had died within months of each other, the father, John, of a heart attack, or complications of influenza, and just months later, Loretta, had succumbed to what was said to be a broken heart, Lorettas bachelor brother, Bill, opened his heart and his purse to ten children. Little Edmund, now almost two, his six brothers and three sisters were all adopted by their Great Uncle Bill, who, spurning offers from aunts, sisters and cousins to take one or two, insisted they stay toge ther.