Dog and Butterfly: Letters Home

By John Philip Riffice

From John Philip Riffice, critically acclaimed author of Waiting For Pops, comes a poignant story of fate and the beguiling art of moving on.

After his brother’s untimely passing, Cam Freeland takes in his sister-in-law and four year-old nephew, Charlotte and Jimmy, just until they get on their feet and find a place of their own. But that day never comes. Cam enjoys having them in his life, and they enjoy being there. Cam raises Jimmy almost as though the boy were his son, forming a bond of love, respect, and friendship that will last beyond a lifetime. In doing so, young Jimmy slowly discovers that his uncle Cam is far nobler than he could have ever imagined, a stand-up guy in every respect.

Except one. Cam has a skeleton in his closet, one which shames him terribly, and fate calls on Jimmy to investigate further. He does, and the secret he uncovers surprises him. And so does the next. And the next after that. But the biggest revelation of all lies in Jimmy’s discovery that fate controls every aspect of his life and that there are no accidents and there are no coincidences, just as Uncle Cam had always told him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Philip Riffice
• Release date: May 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301616879

John Philip Riffice

Author of two books, WAITING FOR POPS and DOG AND BUTTERFLY. A LIFELONG WRITER (FOR MY OWN PLEASURE), I HAVE AMASSED NUMEROUS SHORT STORIES AND A FULL LENGTH MEMOIR BASED ON A TWO-YEAR SNIPPET OF MY LIFE IN CENTRAL FLORIDA, WHICH CENTERS AROUND MY INADVERTENT INVOLVEMENT WITH A SICILIAN MAFIOSO. THIS BOOK HAS BEEN PROFESSIONALLY EDITED AND I AM PRESENTLY IN THE PROCESS OF MAKING CORRECTIONS.AFTER SIXTEEN YEARS WORKING AS A PIPEFITTER, I LEFT THAT PROFESSION TO BECOME A TEACHER. DUE TO THE NATURE OF TODAY’S TRYING ECONOMY, I HAVE RECENTLY RETURNED TO CONSTRUCTION. MY EXPERIENCE AS AN EDUCATOR OF CHILDREN WITH AUTISM SERVED ME WELL AS THE MAIN CHARACTER’S LITTLE SISTER IN WAITING FOR POPS SUDDENLY BECAME AUTISTIC AT ABOUT THE AGE OF FIVE.PIPEFITTER (SINCE 1977)(FORMER APPRENTICE, CERTIFIED WELDING INSPECTOR, CERTIFIED RADIOGRAPHIC INSPECTOR).SCHOOLTEACHER (SINCE 1995)CERTIFIED IN SPANISH, ITALIAN, DRIVER EDUCATION, SOCIAL STUDIES, VOCATIONAL EDUCATION, AND SPECIAL EDUCATION.MASTERS IN EDUCATION AND MASTERS IN SPECIAL EDUCATION. SON OF ALCOHOLIC PARENT (SINCE FOREVER).

Book preview

JIMMY

ONE

Daddy died a long time ago when Mama was still young and pretty. I was so little when it happened that I can’t even remember anymore what he looked like. Mama used to show me photographs taken when they were first married, a couple of years before I came along. I think she was trying to keep his memory alive, but it didn’t work. Sometimes today I look at those old faded black-and-whites and for a fleeting second there’s a spark of recognition. I’m never very sure though whether I actually remember my daddy or just remember the last time I looked at those photos. Every son should remember his father with great fondness, it seems to me, but I just can’t recall a thing about him. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I feel pretty bad about that, too. I can only wonder what he was thinking, laying in that hospital bed over in Oklahoma City, laboring furiously just to suck in another breath of air. He knew he was dying and that must have been hell for him. On top of that, imagine how he must have felt going from this world to the next knowing that there was no possible chance that his only son would ever remember his father. Imagine that! He knew that I would never remember him. It must have been hell, that’s all I can say. It must have been hell.

One of the earliest memories I have was when Mama took me to my first day of school. Nineteen fifty-eight seems like such a long time ago, and it was, I suppose. But the memory is still so fresh it feels like only yesterday that I was wailing hysterically, watching Mama slowly inch her way out of the classroom. All the while, I was pleading, You said you wouldn’t leave me! Don’t leave me! Please, Mama, you promised! It probably broke her heart to hear me sounding so desperate, but I couldn’t help it, and I guess she couldn’t either. I suppose she had to do what she had to do.

Anyway, since we never had much money, the first thing Mama did after Daddy died was to start looking for a job. Finding work in rural Oklahoma back in those days wasn’t an easy thing to do, especially seeing as Mama had no real skills to do much of anything. Like most women then, my mama got married right out of high school. She worked at the library in town for a while, until she got pregnant with me, and that ended that. Without any real work experience to speak of, she didn’t know what to do or where to go.

So she went everywhere. Mama applied absolutely everywhere, but the response was always the same, especially when they found out she had a little boy to care for. Nobody wanted to hire her, not even down at the library. The head librarian told her curtly that they already had enough people to return books to the shelves and didn’t need anyone else.

Mama couldn’t beg, borrow, or steal a job, because everybody knew full well that if I got sick or had some kind of emergency, she wouldn’t be in to work that day. No employer wanted to run that risk, so by the time she’d filled out her fiftieth or so application, Mama was getting pretty desperate.

And that’s when she met Mr. Wilkie. Jim Wilkie ran the payroll department at the tape factory over in Greenwood. He’d been with the company so long that the owner had complete trust in him, and whatever Mr. Wilkie said, went.

Mama and Mr. Wilkie bumped into each other one evening, literally, at a church social, of all places. It’s all a little hazy and the only reason I still remember is because Mr. Wilkie spilled punch all over my nice white shirt, which as I recall made me kind of mad. After that, it just stuck with me. Otherwise, I might have forgotten the whole incident just like I seem to have forgotten most everything else. In any case, after Mama got me cleaned up, she and Mr. Wilkie introduced themselves and got to talking.

I don’t see your husband, he said after they made a little small talk. Is your husband with you tonight?

Mama told him that Daddy died a while back and that we were having a pretty rough go of it. I’ve been lookin’ for a job it seems like forever, she said innocently. Just can’t seem to get a break.

Well now, Charlotte, Mr. Wilkie drawled, reaching out and running his fingers slowly along the inside of her arm, "if there’s anything you ever need… If I can ever help you with anything, anything… you just call on ol’ Jimbo and we’ll see if we can’t get things straightened away real nice. You know where to find me, if you ever need anything, I mean."

Mama suddenly seemed real uncomfortable around Mr. Wilkie, because she got all fidgety and nervous and began to hem and haw and even perspire a little. I don’t think anyone ever touched her like that, except for Daddy I suppose, and it was pretty clear that she didn’t like it very much.

Mama set her punch down right then and there and grabbed my hand and a second later we were out the door, on our way home. The six-block walk was pretty quiet, me doing a little talking and Mama doing none.

What’s the matter, Mama? I asked, as we walked up the front porch steps. You mad at me?

No, Jimmy, I’m not mad at you, she sighed. I don’t feel well, that’s all. I think I’m gonna be sick to my stomach.

As soon as we stepped inside, Mama said, Go brush your teeth and get ready for bed while I open the windows. She’d closed them all up tight before we left, as we were expecting a rain that never came, so the house was hot and stuffy. And do a good job, Jimmy, not like last time. I’ll send you back a hundred times if I have to!

I promised to do a good job, and I did.

A little later, I was in bed, waiting for Mama to come and tuck me in. I always loved being tucked in. The tightness of the sheets made me feel a little safer, a little more secure.

No more than a minute or two went by and in she walked, ready to work her magic again.

Real tight, Mama, okay? I pleaded.

Mama just smiled and started pulling the sheets tighter than a sardine can, exactly the way I liked it. I remember thinking that she was just about the best sheet-tucker in the whole wide world. No sooner had she finished when Mama plopped herself down on the edge of the bed.

Jimmy, there’s somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to tell you, she began slowly. You know of course that I’ve been havin’ trouble findin’ a job, and because… because we don’t have much… well, she stammered, what I’m tryin’ to tell you is that we might have to move in with Uncle Cameron—that’s all I’m tryin’ to say. Rent’s due and we just don’t… Mama’s eyes drifted toward the window. I just want you to know that we’ll be movin’ in with Uncle Cam, she said quietly. Prob’ly real soon, too. It’ll only be for a while, though, ’til things get better. Just for a while. Then we’ll find a place of our own. How does that sound?

Okay, I guess, I answered, not really certain what to say.

I looked around my room and thought a moment about what she’d told me. Then I asked the only question that seemed to matter. But where am I gonna put all my stuff? All I could think of was where I would put my ball glove and roller skates and my other things.

Don’t worry, baby, she reassured me. Uncle Cam’s got a bedroom just for you, just like here. It’ll be alright, you’ll see. I promise.

Then she kissed me on the forehead and whispered, Sweet dreams.

G’night, Mama, I said.

Good night, baby.

It took me a while to fall asleep that night because I was really worried that my new bedroom might not be big enough for all my things. Mama said it would be, and I hoped she was right.

TWO

The very next evening I overheard Mama talking on the telephone with the landlord. He must have been coming down pretty hard on her, because she was just about in tears. She tried to explain that since Daddy died she couldn’t find work, but I guess by then he had heard about all he wanted to hear. I’m pretty sure he was screaming because a few words here and there came through plenty loud, even though I was clear on the other side of the kitchen. Mostly it sounded like he was saying that he wanted his rent money or else. Mama promised to make good on whatever she owed him, when she could, but apparently he didn’t believe her because he threatened to get the sheriff and throw us out. When Uncle Cameron found out about the way the landlord talked to Mama, he wasn’t too happy. He wasn’t too happy at all.

A couple days later, bright and early, a big moving truck pulled into our driveway and out jumped Uncle Cam and a few of his buddies from work. They were all big, burly men, just like Uncle Cam, tough, hard-drinking guys. I knew they were drinkers because it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet and they were gulping beer like it was going out of style, except for Uncle Cam. I never liked the way it made me feel the next day, he told me later. It makes me carry on like a fool, too.

Now that I look back on it, in all the years I knew my uncle Cam, I never once saw him put his lips to anything stronger than a glass of apple cider. I didn’t question it because it seemed normal, that’s all, though most men back then stopped for a drink or two after work as a matter of course. But not Uncle Cam. He just didn’t go much for that kind of thing.

In between loading up our beds and Mama’s chifferobe, which originally belonged to Daddy’s mother, Uncle Cam pulled Mama aside.

Listen, Charlotte, I paid a little visit to that landlord of yours the other day. He won’t be bothering you anymore, Uncle Cam assured her. It’s all settled. You’ve got nothing to worry about.

And that was the end of that. He never said another word about it, and neither did she.

That was the first inkling I ever had that Uncle Cam could make even the wrongest thing right. To this day, I have no idea how Uncle Cam made Mama’s landlord problem go away, but I suppose he just up and paid whatever she owed on the rent. Then again, Uncle Cam always had a way of making people see things his way, sometimes even whether they liked it or not.

Since we really didn’t have a whole lot of furniture or boxes to bring over to my uncle’s, the men managed to get all our things moved in one load. Mama wasn’t in Uncle Cam’s place fifteen minutes and she was already running around like a chicken with its head cut off, making beds and hanging pictures and doing all the things that needed to be done to make a house a home. I was relieved to find out that Mama was right—my room was big enough for all my stuff. That made me pretty happy, and I figured I’d sleep a whole lot better that night. I did, too.

Uncle Cam set up the downstairs really nice for us. He built two bedrooms, one for me and one for Mama, a TV room, a bathroom and even a laundry room. Mama couldn’t seem to thank him enough for all he’d done and went on and on about how grateful she was.

C’mon, Charlotte! What kind of a guy would I be if I didn’t help out my kid brother’s wife, huh? I just want you to get settled in and comfortable and when you’re ready, you can go find yourself a job.

Uncle Cam once told me that Daddy came as a surprise to my grandparents, who I never met because they died before I was born, and that was why there were eleven years between him and my father. I wasn’t sure at the time what the surprise was that he was talking about, so Uncle Cam told me to forget about it. One day, he assured me, you’ll figure it out. He was right about that, too. It took a little while, but eventually I figured it out.

The next night Mama had a hot supper on the table for us, just as Uncle Cam walked in from work. He was really impressed by the spread she’d laid out and could hardly wait to dig in. After he washed up a little and was taking his place at the dinner table, Uncle Cam noticed that Mama had done some pretty thorough cleaning around the house, too. That impressed him as well.

Thanks, Charlotte. I can’t remember the last time I cleaned this house, he said. But you really didn’t have to.

Oh yes I did! Mama laughed. I’ve seen hog farms that were cleaner than this place!

By the looks of things, Uncle Cam loved the meal and couldn’t pile seconds on his plate fast enough. Mercy, Charlotte, this is great! It’s been a long time since there’s been a good home-cooked meal in this house, he said.

You’ve been a bachelor too long, Cam, Mama answered. You single guys are all the same. You forget what it’s like to not eat anything but hot dogs and TV dinners! After a hearty laugh, Mama turned a little more serious.

By the way, Cam, I’ll be out and about tomorrow scroungin’ for work. I don’t suppose they’re lookin’ for any help down at the paper mill, are they?

No, Charlotte, I don’t think so, Uncle Cam muttered. We haven’t put anybody new on down there for over two years. There’s some rumblin’ they might even be layin’ off.

I didn’t think so, Mama replied, but I thought I’d better ask. You never know, right? Anyway, I’ll be out most of the day, but dinner’ll be ready by the time you get home. The lady next door offered to keep an eye on Jimmy until I get back. She seems real nice.

Who? Frances? Next door? She’s a sweetheart, Uncle Cam assured us. Any time you need something and I’m not around, you just go talk to Frances. She’ll help you out.

Uncle Cam went on to tell Mama that there wasn’t any hurry about finding a job and that she didn’t have to rush out and start looking right away on his account.

It’s been pretty tough on you since Billy… well, it’s been pretty tough on you both for a while now. Why don’t you take it easy for a little bit and then start looking when you’re in a better frame of mind?

But Mama was persistent. No, Cam, I can’t. I’ll prob’ly never earn enough money to buy me and Jimmy a place of our own, but I’ve got to start tryin’. I really want to hold up my end around here anyway, like I promised.

Suit yourself, Uncle Cam sighed. There’s no rush though, not as far as I’m concerned.

Mama and Uncle Cam returned to their meals. A short silence followed, interrupted moments later by a question only a child would ask.

Uncle Cam?

Uncle Cam looked up.

How come you never got married? I wondered.

Mama told me to hush. Mustn’t ask personal questions, Jimmy.

Oh, that’s okay, Charlotte. Nothin’ personal about it at all, Uncle Cam insisted.

He set down his knife and fork and looked me in the eye. How come I never got married? Well, Jimmy, I guess the right girl just hasn’t met me yet, he chuckled. It’s as simple as that.

THREE

Mama had dinner set out by the time Uncle Cam got home from work, just like she said she would. Fried chicken, corn on the cob, and mashed potatoes, one of my all-time favorites. Evidently, it was one of Uncle Cam’s, too.

Charlotte, you keep cookin’ this way and I’ll weigh three hundred pounds by Christmas! Uncle Cam couldn’t get enough of Mama’s cooking. All these years later and I still haven’t met another man that could pack it away like he could.

So, Charlotte… how did the job search go today?

Mama proceeded to tell us about the day’s events, starting with her nine o’clock interview at the bank over in Morrisville. I got there plenty early and was as nervous as a you-know-what in church, she giggled, quickly glancing my way. I was sittin’ right under a fan but still felt all wet and sticky and was praying no one would notice. I wanted everything to be just so, so I real casual-like made sure my slip wasn’t showin’ and was right in the middle of inspectin’ my fingernails when the secretary practically shouted, ‘Mr. Waterman will see you now!’ Well, Mama laughed, I was so deep in thought that I about jumped a foot in the air! Uncle Cameron and I both laughed too.

Mama went on to tell us that the interview was going wonderfully and she thought she had the job in the bag. "Then Mr. Waterman asked if I was married and of course I said, ‘No, not anymore, Mr. Waterman. I lost my husband a while back.’ I started to explain the situation about me and Jimmy and all and it wasn’t but a minute later he up and tells me he’d call if they needed someone. Well, it didn’t take much to figure out what was goin’ on, so I said to him, ‘Why, Mr. Waterman, I thought you did need someone.’ Suddenly it was Mr. Waterman’s turn to be nervous as a you-know-what in church, Mama snickered, sneaking another glance my way, so, I just asked him point blank, ‘Mr. Waterman, did I do somethin’ wrong?’

"‘No, no, Miss… Mrs. Freeland,’ he says. ‘It’s just that I’m not sure we need anyone right at the moment and thought that it might be better to hold off for a while…’

Well, a New York second barely passed when I just cut right in and laid my cards on the table, Mama continued. "‘I’m not going to get this job, am I, Mr. Waterman?’ I asked him. Just like that. That’s what I asked him, Cam.

‘Well, to be honest, Mrs. Freeland,’ he tells me with all the biggest, ten-dollar Ivy League words he could muster, ‘there appears to be an encumbrance which precludes you from assuming this position…’ he tells me. Can you imagine that, Cam? Mama exclaimed with a laugh, looking first at Uncle Cam, then at me. I have an ‘encumbrance’! Here I am a twenty five year-old woman and today for the first time ever I find out from a total stranger that I have an encumbrance!

I wasn’t sure why Mama kept looking at me the way she did, but it made me feel a little uncomfortable, sort of like I was doing something wrong, even though I was sure I wasn’t.

Uncle Cam seemed pretty disgusted and just shook his head.

As for me, well, many years went by before I found out what an ‘encumbrance’ was. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the ‘encumbrance’ was me.

Mama spent the next hour telling Uncle Cam where she went after the interview, how many more applications she filled out, who she talked to, that sort of thing. It just doesn’t seem like anybody’s hirin’, Cam. I’m about at my wit’s end, Mama confessed. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. And that was about all she had to say about her job search.

The three of us were quiet for a while. Mama seemed to be real deep in thought and had a worried look on her face. I could tell because her forehead had a bunch of lines on it that looked sort of like a washboard.

Suddenly, out of the blue, Mama said, Cam, did you know that Jimmy made dessert for us tonight?

He did? Uncle Cam smiled broadly.

He sure did! Tell your uncle all about it, Jimmy.

Uncle Cam listened intently as I told him about my day with Frances, the lady next door, and how nice she was and how we made chocolate cupcakes.

With sprinkles? he wondered.

Yessir! I beamed. With sprinkles!

"That’s great, Jimmy. Because a cupcake without sprinkles, well, I reckon it’s just not a cupcake. Not a real cupcake, anyway."

I don’t know if Uncle Cam really believed that or not, but he seemed to understand that I believed it, and that’s what was important, I suppose.

That was just one of the million things that made my uncle so great. Looking back, I believe it was right about that time that I really started to love my uncle Cam.

After dark, Mama told me to take my bath and brush my teeth. Once I had my pajamas on, she gave me the big nightly inspection. Teeth, ears, elbows, the whole works. I couldn’t understand why she thought it was necessary to give me the once-over every single night, but a minute later Mama cleared up that little mystery once and for all. She looked at my ankles and frowned.

Now how in the world does a little boy who made cupcakes all day get dirt on his ankles? Get back in that bathtub this instant, young man, and scrub! And do it right this time, or I’ll be in there to do it for you!

I was sure to clean myself spotless after that, because I figured I was way too old to have my mother come in and wash me. That would have been pretty embarrassing, besides.

So when Mama inspected me for the second time (this time I passed) and tucked me in, it was nearly ten o’clock.

There, she said after the sheets were pulled tight. Snug as a bug in a rug! Then Mama kissed me. As she turned out the light, I heard her soft voice one last time that night. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that sound, that’s how sweet it was. You know, Jimmy, she said, there isn’t anything in the world I wouldn’t do for you. You know that, don’t you?

Uh-huh. I know that, Mama, I responded sleepily.

Good. She pulled the door nearly closed, so that just a crack of light sneaked through. Good night, baby, she whispered. Sweet dreams.

I smiled, but fell asleep before I could answer.

FOUR

When Mama put her mind to something, there was no stopping her. I saw it time and time again during the years she raised me, but it was never more evident than in her search for a job. Weeks went by as she visited every business around, near and far, and absolutely refused to give up. Sometimes she stopped in the same establishment more than once, just to make sure, she said.

In the meantime, I was having a ball with Frances, who had rapidly become kind of like a grandmother to me. And like most grandmothers, she was old and sweet and always nice. Every once in a while we’d just sit around and watch TV, but mostly Frances planned something fun and exciting each day for the two of us. One time we even went fishing alongside Rae’s River. Rae’s wasn’t very wide but Frances said it was pretty deep in spots and had a strong current, too. And because of that, she forbade me to ever go down there by myself. We had a wonderful time that day and caught so many catfish that Frances said we should probably toss them back, which we did, except for two. I found out that Frances handled herself pretty well as an angler, especially for a girl. She was able to bait her own hook without any help from me, which I recall thinking was absolutely amazing. And later I discovered that she knew all about how to fillet a fish, too, and that was really amazing. But what surprised me the most was how good those catfish tasted that night, breaded and deep fried. I suppose knowing I caught them myself made them seem even better.

Sometimes we’d bake bread or make an angel food cake or go on a hike in the woods or work in her flower garden. Frances’ garden was the envy of the entire neighborhood and hardly a day passed that somebody didn’t stop by with a fistful of compliments. Frances always smiled when people gushed about her garden, though to be honest I can’t remember but one or two instances when she wasn’t smiling anyway. It seemed like there was always at least one breed of flower in full bloom, usually more, and except for the dead of winter there wasn’t a day that garden didn’t grace us with the brightest, most glorious colors imaginable. Frances said the secret was knowing which seeds to plant when, and if you planned it right you’d always have a lively, colorful garden. The roses were my favorite because they always smelled so nice, especially the red ones. But Frances said she liked the tulips best, because they bloom once and then they’re gone for a whole year. Makes you appreciate them that much more.

Once we made chocolate chip cookies together. I remember that day in particular, because that’s the day Mama finally found a job. Frances and I were cleaning up the kitchen when we heard Mama knock on the door.

Any luck today? Frances asked, swinging the screen door wide. Tell me you got something today, Charlotte!

Mama said she did, but for someone who finally found what she was looking for, she sure didn’t seem too happy about it. Frances must have noticed too.

What’s the matter, honey? Frances asked. Mama just stood there, not saying a word. Sit down, baby, she said to Mama, her smile suddenly replaced by something much more serious. I’ll put some coffee on. Jimmy, why don’t you go in the den and watch TV while your mother and I chit-chat a little? I’ll bring you some cookies and milk in a minute.

Just as I turned on the television, I heard Mama begin to bawl like a baby. Between the tears, they talked in whispers. I was able to hear every word they said, even though Frances turned the TV up real loud when she brought me my milk and cookies.

What happened, honey? she asked Mama. Tell old Frances what in the world happened.

Between sobs and sniffles, Mama started to explain. "You know, Frances, it’s been so hard since my Billy died and I’ve been tryin’ so hard for so long to find a job, because I don’t want to depend on Cameron forever, and I’ve been everywhere, Frances, everywhere... sometimes two or three times. Heck, some of them came right out and asked me to please not come back anymore… I guess they’re tired of seein’ my ugly ol’ face every three days."

Now, first of all, Frances said with a laugh, "your face isn’t either ugly or old. In fact, I’d say that you’re downright pretty, that’s what I’d say. And don’t think for a second that no one else notices, either. I see how men turn their heads when you walk by…"

Honest, Frances? Mama answered. Her sniffling came to an abrupt halt and a perky smile crossed her face. Really?

"Why certainly, Charlotte! They’re not blind, you know. You never see them looking at me that way, do you? Good Lord, they never even looked at me that way fifty years ago when I was young and skinny and worth looking at!"

Mama was laughing hard when all of a sudden, right out of nowhere, she started to whimper and sniffle all over again. Oh, Frances, she whined, I did the most terrible thing today.

Aw, come on, honey. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think, now is it? she asked, taking Mama’s hand into her own. Just calm down some and tell me what happened.

I didn’t know what else to do, Frances. I mean, I’ve been to every business around and no one is hirin’ and I didn’t know what to do. So, this afternoon I took a ride out to Greenwood to see Jim Wilkie at the tape factory. I met him at a church social a couple months back and…

Suddenly, blaring from the TV, came the theme song from Mighty Mouse (Here he comes, to save the day!). After I heard that, what was being said in the kitchen fell on deaf ears. Choosing between a half-hour with my favorite cartoon character and a kitchen conversation I didn’t really understand to begin with was pretty simple. So I went with Mighty Mouse, just like any kid would, I suppose.

At supper that night, Mama spent the better part of her meal telling Uncle Cam all about her new job. She said she was hired to be Mr. Wilkie’s personal assistant, helping him out with payroll and personnel matters and the like. Mama was real enthusiastic and sounded a lot happier than she did