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Contents
To Arnie, Emmy, Becca, Keena, and Zayda
A Little History
I WAS ON WEEK TWO of living with Aunt Magnolia and Aunt Pigg. There was a whole river not that far from us in Critz, Virginia, named after Ralston Pigg, the Daniel Boone of our family, and when my aunt was born, my grandmother gave her the name Pigg, too. My father took me to see the Pigg River once even though the Piggs were my mothers ancestors. We watched its mini majesty (it wasnt a very big river) crashing over rocks, and he said it looked nothing like my aunt, and laughed. Then he said, Seriously, Henry, if you ever get a chance to name a river, dont name it something like Pigg. Rivers are too important. Theyre part of a whole water structure that supports life, if you think about it. Think about it! he suddenly demanded. He worked for the Filmore Brush Company in sales and was usually on the road, but when he was home, he tried to tell me as much about life as he could, to keep me safe when he couldnt be with me. Once you become a parent, thats the only thing you really want for the rest of your life, he said, his hand resting on my shoulder. For your children to be safe forever. Even when you cant be with them. He turned to me then and gave me a steely wide-eyed look. Dont die, he ordered.
The week after I turned twelve, my mother decided to go to Africa as a missionary. She wasnt religious, at least as far as my father and I knew. I heard her telling my father about her plan on the phone. She said she thought her best bet was to be a Mormon because we had Mormon friends and so my mother knew that Mormons were supposed to spend some time on a missionary journey. My mother was trying to convince my father to become Mormon with her, but he didnt want to. And he did not want to go to Africa on a mission with her. He really liked the Filmore Brush Company. He liked being on the road. I heard my mom arguing with him about it a lot because she forgot to keep her voice down, and even when she didnt, our house, although old, had thin walls, and I, the only child, was used to creeping around corners, listening in on my mothers phone conversations. She had a lot of phone conversations because my father was gone so much and I think she liked chatting. I thought she might have dreamt up all this Mormon missionary stuff to bring my father home, although that wasnt what she was like at all, and besides, when he did come home all they did was fight.
I dont wish to be known as Norman the Mormon, said my father when he got home from one of his business trips.
I dont think that is inevitable, said my mother. Im sure theyll just call you Norman like everyone else. Maybe Norm.
Its disrespectful to pretend to be religious when were not. Just so you can get a free trip to Africa.
That one caused slammed doors and three days of silent meals. They didnt think I knew what was going on, and they didnt seem to care how horrible it was for me when they fought. I walked around with nervous tension in my stomach. When I wasnt worried about that, I worried a lot about leaving Virginia for Africa, but I was even more horrified when they told me that I wasnt going to Africa with them.
We cant possibly take you, Henry, said my mother.
Too many things could go wrong, said my father.
Theres diseases there you cant even spell.
And dangerous animals and things in the water, both microscopic and huge.
Animal and insect and germ things.
Its no place to take a child.
And I cant concentrate on missionary work if youre there, said my mother. Ill be too busy making sure no harm comes to you.
I can watch over myself, I offered.
Not in Africa.
Youll be with Aunt Magnolia and Aunt Pigg for a few months, said my father.
Is that how long youll be gone? I asked querulously because that was a long time and certainly longer than I wanted to spend with Aunt Magnolia and Aunt Pigg.
It depends, said my mother, getting a dreamy look in her eye. It might be longer. I might turn out to be good at this.
At missionary work! my father snorted. I told you to forget all that nonsense.
Well, how am I supposed to finish out my school year? I asked. Its my last year at Critz Elementary. I cant believe youre making me move to Floyd and miss the last weeks at Critz.
We thought of that. Aunt Pigg and Aunt Magnolia have graciously agreed to move here while you finish school, and then during the summer months you will move back up there to stay with them in Floyd.
Youre going to be gone summertime, too? I wailed as the realization hit me. I could hardly believe this was happening. And Floyd in the summer? What about baseball? I played baseball all summer long in the field by our house. It was the best part of any summer.
We might be, said my mother. You never can tell.
You can tell, said my father. I told the Filmore Brush Company I would be back by July. He looked at me meaningly. I knew he thought this whole thing was a great indulgence, and was hoping it would settle my mother down for the next ten or fifteen years. Later, in a man-to-man talk, he told me that women could become terribly flighty in middle age. It was best to hook them when they were young and leave them before it started happening. But the thing was, he said, by that time, if you loved them, well, you were stuck.
I think its important we have these talks now, he said, patting my shoulder, just in case.
In case of what? I asked.
In case one of those things that happen to people in Africa happens to us. One of those bad things. Those disease things, or light aircraft things, or bad drinking water things. Or large animal things. Theres no point pretending that people arent worried about these things, and the reason they worry is that theyre really, really dangerous. But I believe you should be clear about the danger before we go. Although, realistically speaking, well probably come back just fine with a lot of swell photos.
Well, I hope so, I said.
We all hope so, said my father. Except perhaps your mother, who, I think, is looking forward to the dangerous part the most.
Isnt there anyone who could stay with me besides Aunt Magnolia and Aunt Pigg? I asked.
Whats wrong with Magnolia and Pigg? asked my father in surprise, and really, it was kind of hard to put your finger on.
Aunt Magnolia and Aunt Pigg came into town for holiday meals and only stayed a couple of hours. A lot of the time was spent outside our house because they both smoked and Mom wouldnt let them smoke in the house. And they didnt talk to me. I dont think they liked children. Maybe they just didnt like boys. They were extremely adult adults with no play in them. I was always excused immediately after family meals to go watch television. I think they somehow made my mother feel ashamed of me. As if my table manners werent quite right, or I wasnt quite smart enough, or my conversation, which was nonexistent when they were around, wasnt quite up to par.
I just wish someone was staying with me who liked me a little more, I said.
Good opportunity for them to get to know you, said my father, patting my shoulder again absently as if he had already moved on in his head. Heart-to-heart completed, and now he was worrying about the packing or something. And for you to get to know them! he added suddenly, a bonus thought.