Hippomobile! (14 page)

That was when we heard our names being hollered like the roof was on fire. We jumped right off Old Tom Wood like a pair of frogs. And that was how Jimmy finally got that loose tooth out
¹
because upon landing he banged it on his knee just like how he got it loose in the first place. Jimmy stuck it deep in his pocket, and we ran off to Mabel's faster than a lit fuse.

We didn't even make it in the screen door before we were met by a stream of grandmas and grandpas on their way out. “What's going on?” we asked.

For an answer what we got was a paper place mat. We didn't know what to make of it until Grandma Ida appeared at the door with her dishrag on her shoulder and told us to turn it over.
²
When we did, we saw the words “Operation Beautification” wrote up at the top and underneath it a list of things to do as long as a garden hose. That was something we wanted to be a part of, so we asked, “How can we help out?”

Grandma Ida smiled and mussed up our hair some and cracked her gum loud as a bat hitting a ball and said, “Help out? We put you in charge!”

And the next thing we knew, she produced a clipboard, and we clipped the place mat to it. We thought it would've been nice to have a whistle hanging around our necks like a coach, but unfortunately we didn't have one.

Grandma Ida told us it was our job to make sure Operation Beautification was running smooth and all our grandparents were doing their jobs right. We said we could do that. But before we went to make our rounds, Jimmy smiled real big for her and showed her the lost tooth.

“Make sure you tuck it under your pillow tonight,” she said. Then she dug around in her apron pocket and pulled out a quarter for each of us.

“Thanks, Grandma Ida!” we said. And off we ran.

We spent the next few hours overseeing the beautification and renovation of the Wymore town square. We saw to it that our grandmas had a fresh supply of soapy water and piles of rags to wipe off the clunkers clean as spit, right down to the side-view mirrors and whatever fenders still remained. We made a point of showing them Jimmy's tooth and collected three dimes and two nickels each. We helped our grandpas pump air into the flat tires until each one looked as big as a belly. Then Jimmy opened wide, and we took in two quarters and eight pennies.

From there we walked over to Grandma Elsie, who was busy pulling weeds out of the cracks in the sidewalk. She flashed us a green thumb, and Jimmy flashed her a smile that was good for four nickels.

Back in the middle of the square, Grandma Pearl prospected another rusty nail out of the ground. That gave us an idea. We told her them nails of hers might look real good in a little display case. We told her she could call it “Ancient Artifacts from Wymore.” You should've saw the way her face brightened up like stars in a nighttime sky. Then Jimmy smiled, and we collected over a whole dollar just from her alone.

We wanted to visit Grandpa Bert next, but him and his broom was circulating the dust better than a fan. So we kept our distance and just called out to him to keep up the good work, even though that meant giving up a nickel or a dime. But we did go over to the old appliance store and help Grandpa Jarvis spruce up his storefront window. We put price tags on the rusty stove and the icebox that was missing a door. And after we were done, Grandpa Jarvis went behind the counter and got his cigar box and pulled out a quarter for each of us. When we smiled and he spotted Jimmy's missing tooth, he added another nickel.

From there it was back across the street to where four of our grandpas were sitting side by side on a bench like birds on a telephone wire. They were scrubbing rust from the missing letters to the hotel sign, each of them using a different method. The
S
grandpa was using baking soda, and the
T
grandpa was employing vinegar, and the
L
grandpa was utilizing aluminum foil dipped in water, and the
E
grandpa was applying lemon juice and salt. Orange dust fell to their feet pretty as snow. They were arguing over whose method was working best, and the only way we could get them to stop was by showing them Jimmy's tooth. None of them wanted to look stingy, so we walked away with a handful of coins.

Over at the beauty parlor, Grandma Francine was trying out different wigs on the bald lady mannequin in the window. She had it narrowed down to one wig called “Halo Curly,” one named “Spiked Expression,” and one wig referred to as “Bed Head.” We liked that one best because that was how our hair looked most of the time. But even though we were the ones who were supposed to be in charge, Grandma Francine eventually picked “Halo Curly” and pulled it onto the dummy's head like a winter cap. Jimmy smiled, and she gave us both a quarter.

A few doors down, Grandpa Virgil was out giving the stripes on the barber pole a fresh coat of paint while Grandpa Homer held the three different cans of color for him.

“You ain't staying in the lines, Grandpa Virgil,” we said.

And Grandpa Homer said, “I keep telling him the same thing!”

That made us laugh, considering how Grandpa Homer ain't seen lines or nothing else for years now.

But Grandpa Virgil said, “Once this pole is spinning again, you won't know the difference.”

“You think you can get it to work again?” we asked.

“If you run over to Ickler's and find me an oil squirter, I will.”

So you see, being in charge ain't nothing to snuff at because we were off once more at a full run. And while we were at the hardware store, we got another idea. We took an empty jar from a shelf and twisted off the lid and blew out the dust inside of it and sneezed. Then we poured all our coins into it and twisted the lid back on. After making our delivery to Grandpa Virgil, we went around to the back kitchen door at the café, where we heard Grandma Mabel's knife thwacking on the butcher block.

We walked in and saw her working at the prep table before she saw us. And we just reached out with our jar and said, “Here, Grandma Mabel.”

And Grandma Mabel asked, “What'cha got there?”

And we said, “Tooth Fairy money. So you don't have to close down.”

If we had known she was gonna go and turn on the waterworks like that again, we might've kept the money for ourselves and sent away for a pair of x-ray glasses we saw advertised in the back of an old magazine. But it was too late.

Once Grandma Mabel got her face mopped up with the corner of her apron, she went to her big white fridge and brought us each back a chocolate pudding she called a dusty miller.
³
And we smiled because it had been a real long time since we'd had one of them.

So we whispered something to each other and then took the jar of coins back off the table, and Jimmy dug around in his pocket and pulled out his tooth and added it to the jar. “You can keep whatever the Tooth Fairy gives you for it,” we said.

Then we left fast as we could before Grandma Mabel got teary on us again.

 

 

 

 

WE TOOK OUR DUSTY MILLERS
and sat out on the bench right next to Grandpa Chester. Desserts ain't never taken us long to eat, and soon we were done and swinging our legs some, since our feet didn't touch the ground. Eventually we got up the nerve and asked Grandpa Chester, “Who's winning?”

Usually he'd just say a team name, maybe the score. If you were real lucky and happened to ask him during a commercial break, he might tell you what inning it was. So our surprise couldn't have been bigger when Grandpa Chester pulled the radio from his ear and clicked it off with his thumb and said, “It don't matter. Ain't nuthin' but a game.”

“We always thought you liked baseball, Grandpa Chester,” we said.
Breathed
baseball would've been more like it.

“I do,” he said. “But I ain't so interested in who wins and who loses. Be it the Turkeys, the Roadrunners, or the Hyenas.”

“Them ain't no baseball teams.”

“Ain't they, now? Well, then, what are some?”

So we named him several, and then a couple more. Then when he griped at us for stopping halfway, we came up with three more on top of that.

Grandpa Chester nodded his head and said, “You'll get there.”

And we asked, “Get where?”

But he didn't tell us where. Instead he said, “The real reason I listen to baseball is to stay fit.”

And we laughed because we thought he was pulling our drumsticks. How do you stay fit sitting on a bench all day with a transistor radio at your ear?

We were about to say as much, but Grandpa Chester got his say in first. “Honus Wagner. Otherwise knowed as the Flying Dutchman. 1900. 580 plate appearances, 201 hits, 45 doubles, 22 triples, 4 homers. Exactly 100 runs batted in. 38 stolen bases, 41 walks. Striked out a mere 17 times. Batting average of .381.” And right when we thought he was finished, he added, “Oh, yeah, and he got hit by a pitch 8 times. Though I have to admit I couldn't tell you where exactly.”

That's when we started to understand what he meant by fit. “Can you do that with any other players?”

“Darn near each and every one of 'em. And every season too. But only back to the year 1900, as I was just workin' on when you sat down with your puddin'. Chocolate, I do believe it was.”

Now we knew why Mom said we should come and have a talk with him about our homework. “You think you can help us remember the presidents like that?”

“Ain't a pupil that growed up in Wymore that I haven't. Includin' your Mom and Pops. She tell you that?”

“She did.”

“And they both got an A if I'm remembering right.”

That sounded good to us. “Well, what do we gotta do to get an A?”

“Ain't much to it,” Grandpa Chester said. “Once you choose your palace.”

And we said, “Huh?” Living in Wymore, we ain't never seen a single palace.

Grandpa Chester said it was as easy as falling off a log. He explained to us his trick in three little steps. “First you gotta pick a place you know good as your back pocket. That's what's called your palace. Then once you got that, alls you gotta do is picture all the different details about it. You followin'?”

We weren't really. And so we asked, “What's your palace?”

And Grandpa Chester said, “We're sittin' right across from it.”

We looked across the street, past Grandma Winnie wiping off a clunker and over Grandma Elsie, who was bent down pulling weeds, and there was the old drugstore. Its sign was missing lots of letters, too, and now it just spelled out
RU ST
.

“That's your palace?”

“That it is. Stood in there behind the counter for darn near forty years, and there ain't no nook, cranny, or apothecary jar in there that I ain't on a first-name basis with.”

“Apotha-canary what?” we asked.

“That's them dusty jars up on the shelves with them funny words on 'em. Alum, Junip., Sod. Bromide, Sulph. Forty-two of 'em in all, and I still know each and every one. Left to right and right to left. Which is what I'm sayin'. Find a place you know inside out and outside in. And that, kids, will be your palace.”

Now we were starting to get it. We put our heads together, and it didn't take us long. “Can we pick Mabel's?”

“I'd say there ain't no better choice to be choosed,” Grandpa Chester answered.

“But what do we do with it?”

“Just think about some of the things that are in there.”

Well, that wasn't hard. We named stuff like how the screen door's always stuck, and how our booth's by the window, and them greasy bottles of ketchup and mustard on the table. We mentioned that jar of relish we won't touch, the tricycle stain and the boat stain up on the ceiling, and the TV up in the corner that's always going on and on about the weather. Then there was the fan rotating back and forth all summer long on the lunch counter, the library booth with its pile of old books, and them swinging doors leading back to Grandma Mabel in the kitchen.

We could've kept going, but where did all the presidents come in at?

“That's step three,” Grandpa Chester said. “Now what you do is, you tell yourself a story. Because stories is how you remember things. Just ask Grandpa Homer and Grandpa Virgil. And in that story, you make each president have somethin' to do with each of them things you've just been tellin' me about: the screen door, the stains, the relish.”

“You mean like George Washington opened the screen door?”

“That's the general idea. But the funnier you make it, the easier you're gonna remember.”

We thought for a moment and asked, “George Washington pulled and tugged, but couldn't open the screen door?”

Grandpa Chester smacked his hands together. “Much better!”

“And John Adams looked up at the tricycle stain?”

“Why not say that John Adams
rode
the tricycle stain?”