Sentimental Journey

By Shakey Smith

Forty years is a long time to be married. Even a marriage that began with hearts and flowers can become a long, tedious row to hoe. Cy and Stevie Dupee are facing this milestone in a few short weeks. The small family dinner they requested has turned into a county-wide extravaganza. Tensions are simmering and the stress is telling. Cy is taking more side trips into the golden past, as mired in daydreams as a tractor in sugar sand. Stevie, on the other hand, has been a bitch on wheels since June, and rightly so; the guest list is a ticking bomb! Besides their crazy children and errant grandchildren, it includes closet tipplers, virgin newlyweds, ancient hippies, a geriatric Romeo and Juliet and Stevie's first husband. Will they make it to the ceremony and dance, or is this going to be the breaking point in their marriage, capped off with the ballroom brawl of the century?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shakey Smith
• Release date: Apr 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370462155

Shakey Smith

A resident of Kansas, Shakey weaves her stories from a simple fabric of life, creating beautiful tapestries that are a testament to everyday existence, highlighted with the addition of those globally familiar colorful characters who touch all our lives. A widow, a mother, a Spanish teacher, she draws on all of her own roles and trials as she brings to life ordinary people, sharing with us the depth of their emotions, making us aware of ‘the every man’s’ daily triumphs and troubles. While she might claim to have majored in bead-stringing, and minored in hitch hiking and Neil Young, her official parchments show degrees in English and Spanish.

Book preview

Chapter 1 – Why Don’t You Tell Her?

The Coyotes

¡Mira Jaime! ¡Bailan Papi y los tios! Tedi lifted the baby to stand and pointed to the serpent of dancing Coyotes two-stepping around the dance floor: wiry, bowlegged, gray-haired Dud at the head; pudgy, perspiring, carrot-haired Ira at the tail. Meggs, Callie, Freda, Ivy, Jaks, Norm, Pete, Tim and Tommy made for the bumps in the snake; Lauren, Jules, Corliss, Clyde, Cyril, Kie and Sandy supplied the dips

The county had been dancing together for a hundred years and each clan had its own dance. There was Cotton Eye Joe that the whole county danced. There was the Too Fat Polka that belonged to the Gerstenkorns, Doemlers and Monschs. The raucous Flying Dutchman sent the Reidls, the Hlvtays and Suchys flying into the nether reaches of the floor and sometimes into tables and spectators. Cielito Lindo became an anthem sung by the Sanchez, the Jinohosa, the Ybarra. The Antrims, Keenans and Doogans had their jig.

This snake dance was the Dupee’s dance. Older than anyone could remember, it always began with the band yodeling up a song from the dim past – At The Ball. This was danced Laurel-and-Hardy style by the surviving Dupee boys, just as they had watched their father and great uncles dance it when they were children. Sometime in the seventies a song by the group Redbone was tacked in for the younger generation as a tribute to their Native American blood. Nowadays the dance ended with Fleetwood Mac’s immortal Tusk danced by the Coyotes alone.

Why don’t you tell me? the cousins chanted as they danced.

Tedi could not catch the sense of the song but the crazy gringo music had her feet tapping. Spouses and onlookers ringed the floor and stood on chairs to cheer them on. The youngest children rode on the shoulders of fathers and uncles.

Meggs danced by whirling Yesi high over his head in an incredible feat of strength. All cheered. Yesi, big eyes and a trembly smile in a lace dress, waved to her mother. Bobby, in a miniature version of Meggs’ dinner jacket, crowed from Amy’s shoulder. Tedi laughed out loud. Jamie jumped in her lap and chewed his dimpled fist.

Crazy! They are all crazy! Sara Dupee, very pregnant, sat next to her and waved to Kie who danced by with Charlie on his shoulders.

Son locos, Tedi agreed but with tears of pride stinging her eyes. There was no doubt about it. She was a woman hopelessly in love with her husband. She carried her love for him quietly in her heart, like a single candle to the Madonna, flickering bravely in a gloomy cathedral.

Her love made Tedi a pure and forgiving woman.

She had broken her silence and written to her tia in Mexico. She had enclosed snapshots: her children, her handsome, wealthy husband, herself, standing by the gate of their cozy little house. She had signed the letter proudly: Mrs Meggs Dupee.

It was in almost no time at all that a letter arrived from Puebla. Meggs brought it in to her with shaking hands. He stood next to her, hands jammed into his overall pockets, as she read it.

With tears streaming down her face she showed him photos of her abuelos, padrinos, tios and primos but nothing from the madre. It was a photo of Yesi waiting for the school bus on her first day of Head Start, hand in hand with her gringa grandmother, that had finally drawn the tearful letter from Tedi’s mother.

Tell me! the Coyotes shouted from the floor.

Meggs was frowning, focused hard on moving his big feet without looking at them, trying not to think about jostling Yesi. It was the rhythm of the thing that stymied him. He had, even in kindergarten, never heard what the others heard in music; had never got the hang of stepping and turning in unison. He only danced because he had to. There was a place to fill between Jules and Bozo and he filled it. In front of him, his cousin Pete turned the corner, blowing kisses at hefty Nola. Fritz and Ivy helped Lauren to keep step; Amy and Freda twirled slowly in each other’s arms, holding Bobby between them. Callie beat her evening-gowned chest and brandished an imaginary tomahawk.

Jules whirled in a thunderbird. Behind him, Bozo gave a war whoop, glasses askew, silver curls flying. Tre, Kie, Clyde, Normie and Tim took it up. The drums went wild. David howled like a coyote. Tommy and Cyril did a Flying Dutchman. Bald Sandy, Chris balanced on his thin shoulders, broke from the line and did a solo war dance for his glowering wife. She took the baby from him. He laughed and caught his brother, Ira, into a manic mazurka. They were very drunk.

Meggs shook his head in disgust and tried to avoid his Aunt Elena’s pained eyes. He did not dance well at the best of times but tonight he was dancing with a heavy heart, as well as two left feet.

It had all started a couple weeks ago, with a five dollar bill. He and Clyde were watching Yesi while checking out an irrigation system. They asked her to run under a culvert to clear a tangle of tumbleweeds. Yesi did the job fearlessly and thoroughly. Meggs grinned from ear to ear and shook her grubby hand. Clyde presented her with a five dollar bill.

So seriously that they had to choke down smiles, Yesi tucked the bill into her bib pocket. Once home, Meggs took down Yesi’s piggy bank. She shook her head no and led him to the almost never used upstairs, where she beckoned him into his sister Lauren’s old room. She took a red book from a shelf built under the window and opened it to show him a good sized hoard of fives. Guardamos los cincos aquí, she said gravely.

He sat down hard on Laurens old rocker. ¿Qué es ese?

Nuestra dinero. Para salir.

Your money? To leave? Where are you going? ¿Dónde vas ? Meggse asked, tears clawing at his throat.

¡México! she beamed.

Pues ven amiga. ¿Quieres un Popsicle? he said after a full minute.

¡Sí, Papi ! She scrambled down the stairway, beating him to the kitchen.

Meggs thought long and hard on her words. Salir was not a tricky verb. It meant to depart. Pure and simple. After Tedi and the boys returned, Meggs checked the grocery tab against the check ledger; there had been an error of five dollars. He found the last grocery receipt where Tedi kept them, in his grandmother’s teapot. He checked it against the entry: minus five dollars, and minus five on the one before and the one before that.

Meggs felt his heart bubbling down to the bottom of his boots. He knew that Freda had paid Tedi thirty-five last month, for some drawings. Sandy had asked her to translate for an upcoming trial at a very good wage. At this rate and with the car he had bought her, Tedi and the kids could be in Mexico before Christmas. But why? Meggs wandered to his forge. He took up his hammers and pounded away for an hour after she had called him to supper.

Chapter 2 -- Why Don’t You Tell Him?

Caughting the Rogg

The music ended. The Coyotes broke file and returned to their tables. Gruffly, Meggs turned Yesi over to her mother and went to sit with Jules, David, Tre and Ira, at the bachelor’s table. Tedi stood bewildered, her welcoming smile now a troubled frown.

Sara took the baby from her. Go dance with your husband. We’ll watch the kids, she urged Tedi. She was new to the family and could not know the error of her advice.

Para bailar La Bamba… The lead singer – Efrain Dupee, eldest son of Dud and Socci – began one of the band’s best numbers. Couples flooded the floor.

Tedi caught Meggs by the sleeve of his rented dinner jacket. Dazed, he followed as she led him to the center of the floor. The night was young and she did not know his awful secret. He could not find the words to tell her.

As they made their way to the floor, a soft gasp circled the room. Snickers and whispers followed as Meggs began a series of contortions that would have done credit to St. Vitus.

Oh, God, no. Let a sinkhole open and swallow him up. Please! Clyde moaned, his hands clasped in prayer.

Is he sick or something? Margi whispered to Tommy. She also was new to the family.

Tommy could only shake his head.

Bozo rapped the table. He is dancing. Do not stare. Do not laugh. Do not smile. If one person at this table displays the slightest expression of levity, he will storm over here, massacre the males and sell the females into slavery. He spoke from sorry experience.

Poor bastard. If he weren’t so damned big, Norm sighed.

I’ve heard about it but never seen it. Sam pulled a straight face.

Remember that time in high school when Sandra Pfannenstiel broke up with Jules? Tennyson asked the table.

All but Sam and Margi nodded dumbly.

To spite Jules, she asked Meggs to the Homecoming dance. Big mistake. He dropped his tray. In slow motion. Tennyson finished the tragic tale. He just stood there, like a poll-axed steer, with glass and silverware crashing all around him. Sandy walked away with a loafer of Salisbury steak and no idea.

The gravity of the situation gripped even the celebrants at the head table. What he problem? New shoes? Father Lewis asked the anniversary couple.

Love, Aunt Midge informed him. Damn fool is hopelessly in love with his own wife but he can’t tell her.

Too bad. Why he not speak up? Father Lewis shook his head.

Poor bastard is a little backwards, socially, Uncle Jaks mused.

Listen here, … Uncle Cy began, clenching a massive fist, but it was at that very moment that young Travis Dupee flew into a gaggle of snickering Jinohosas and Hlavatys, fists flashing, defending his beloved Uncle Meggs to the bloody end.

Travis’ trusty sidekick, Jaks Dupee the Fifth, ‘Five’ to friends and family, dove to Travis’ aid by pulling a chair to a table and taking a running belly flop into the fray. He had seen this in a movie and had been waiting all summer to try it.

In just seconds their Dupee cousins arrived slugging. They were met by a shoving, punching wave of pre adolescent Monschs, Doogans, Gerstenkorns, Wamplers, Hlavatys, Simmons, Tzutzikas, Jinohosas, Sanchez and Pankratz.

The older Dupee cousins, being in high school and more responsible than their younger kinsmen , removed jackets and ties, shoes and earrings, before joining in.

On the bandstand Wheelie folded up his accordion. Wes cased his trumpet. Efrain and Cisco began disengaging themselves from leads and mikes. Their Jinohosa band mates and cousins were doing the same. Palabras picantes were flying. The Hlavaty band members were torn as to allegiance but also making attack preparations.

Jesus Hoptoad Christ! I spend my life paying for hearing aids… Clyde sputtered, storming onto the floor while unbelting his trousers, seeking out Travis, who had tossed away his encumbering hearing aids and had settled into a slug-out with an obliging Sanchez classmate.

You tell Mr. Travis that he owes me thirty-two fifty for that dinner jacket! They made me put down a damage deposit after last time! Tharon hollered after Clyde.

Okay everyone! Let’s not start swinging until the cake is cut! Clear the floor! The anniversary couple took the stage to calm the revelers but it was Father Lewis who put the kibosh on the impending brawl by blowing attention on his boatswains whistle. He had learned the whistle during his days in the Vietnamese Navy and never attended a wedding dance without it… at least not after the first one.

It was then that Meggs turned tail and ran, leaving Tedi alone and conspicuous at the center of the empty dance floor, blinking back her tears.

Norm gave me the finger, Uncle Julian confided to his date.

And you wonder why I won’t dance with you! Connie hissed through clenched teeth.

Cy! Get Meggs back. Do something, Stevie ordered her husband.

Cy stood and tugged his cummerbund into propriety. I’m thinking on it. It don’t look too bad yet. Old Meggs is just a bit skittish tonight. Dinner jacket and wingtips will do that to a fellow. Boy has got to be bewildered by that dress. Dress like that …on top of the dairy situation…it would just naturally spook the neophyte… Cy muttered as he made his way across the dance floor.

Chapter 3 -- Why Don’t You Tell Me ?

Cy, Tedi and Meggs

Don’t cry, Chiquita Banana, Cy addressed Tedi, who was standing like Lot’s wife – but dressed a little flashier – her teary eyes fixed on the exit light.

Oh, Papi, she choked.

Cy reached to squeeze her shoulder. She folded into his arms. Yeah, I know. The boy is skittish. Don’t seem possible in a frame that large but he is a timid soul and easily rattled. Of course his sisters bear a goodish share of the guilt. They rode him hard. Poor bastard had a mortal fear of women by the time he was pubescent.

Her answer was a soft, tearful lament in a language he could not understand but which, never the less, put a crick in his old heart. He took Tedi’s hand in his and led her to the main table. Father Lewis? Could Tedi and Meggs use the rectory garden to straighten this little tiff in private?

Father Lewis stood. Yes. Of course. An idea most excellent. And cake? Maybe cake, little punch? Little picnic. Moonlight. He gestured to the wedding cake and punchbowl.

Cake and punch and nut cups, Aunt Midge announced, serving up two elegant, plastic plates and cups herself, although she was the guest of honor. She tucked in a stack of silver lettered ‘Margaret and Jaks’ napkins just in case things got messy and handed the picnic to Cy.

As proprietor of the garden, Father Lewis led the way, opening the gate and leading Tedi to the moonlit koi pond. He settled the picnic on a post rock bench.

Cy waited until Father and Tedi were inside the fence. He whistled and beckoned to Meggs, who was across the parking lot, shooting lonely baskets.

Meggs shook his head no. Cy took a grim step in his direction. Meggs netted the ball and walked, glowering, across the lot. Cy opened the gate and led him inside to sit next to Tedi. Neither spoke.

I have good feeling about this, Father Lewis mused as he and Cy walked back to the Knight’s Hall. Don’t you think? Look at old Bozo. Pretty geeky guy. He married just fine. Two babies.

Cy could only shake his head.

The garden was a study in whites and silvers. Father Lewis did not often find the time to sit in his garden until after sunset and so he had done most of his planting in colors he could enjoy in moonlight, with some blue added for the Virgin Mary.

In his first years of gardening in Gray County, he had tried to recreate his beloved Saigon. Now, in middle age, he was reconciled to the harsh climactic realities of Western Kansas. The survivors – the bamboo, the ginger, the sheltered tea rose, the stone lanterns and the piebald koi – created a peculiar but harmonious ambience paired with coneflowers, sages, lavenders, agaves and moonflowers.

The bench and pond were backed with a tall hedge of Father Lewis’ beloved buttery sunflowers – which were very difficult to grow in Saigon – framing Tedi in a soft, golden white. Bitterly, it occurred to Meggs that here was everything one would want for a tender love scene – except a love interest. Then, in the moonlight, he saw the tears in her dark eyes.

Maxx, I don’t make you dance me again.

He twisted his big hands like he was wrestling words from thin air. I can’t dance. Not with a girl. I just can’t.

Jes, Maxx. I know.

I never could. Not ever.

Jes. Yo sé. Here, you it your cake. Eyes downcast, she handed him a dainty silver and white plate with a cube of ivory and silver cake.

He took the plate, settled it onto his knee and spoke to it only. You dance so pretty. You’re so… young. Dance all you want. Dance with anyone you want. I won’t care. Just don’t dance with me.

Jes, Maxx. It your cake. She smiled, fighting the silvery tears that bejeweled her long, soft lashes.

You eat yours. He smiled, blinking his own dewy lashes, relieved to tears that she had not laughed at him.

Dutifully she took a bite of her cake. He took a bite of his. She tossed a crumb to the koi, and then peered into the pond’s murky mossy depths, her curls framing her face. Tenderly he fed her a forkful of his cake.

Maxx! I need diet! She laughed through her tears, daintily taking the frosting from her full lips with her tongue.

You look good. Very good, he managed to say.

Tharon she look good tonight. Everyone say she is looking fine, she fished, blatantly, watching him out of the corner of her ojos rasgados.

You are fine. You look better than… than… anyone, he croaked, his cake suddenly dry and sticking in his throat.

You look good. You are a pretty man. She offered him a sip of her punch.

Pretty? He laughed, and then frowned. He wanted to say ‘Te amo.’ He needed to say ‘¿por qué me has robado?’ He struggled with this dilemma.

She fed him a luminescent cube of cake. He thought he might kiss her and save the questions for…

Uncle Meggs! Uncle Meggs! The gate banged open under a torrent of nephews. Phillip and Logan were in the lead, their Mohawks bristling in alarm. Uncle Meggs! Bobby knocked his lights out! He fell down the stairs! They’re taking him to the hospital! Dad said come quick!

Chapter 4 -- Do You Love Me?

Emil, Meggs and the Wolfman

Meggs found them in the family waiting room that was coming to be a second home to them all. His mother and father, in evening gown and dinner jacket, snored in blissful unison, huddled together on a mauve sofa under a Georgia O’Keefe print. Freda, in an evening gown and wrapped in Emil’s dinner jacket, with Yesi snuggled to her bosom, slept in a rocker. Emil, in a white pleated shirt and tuxedo pants, walked Jamie, who was howling like a bear cub.

Thanks Amy, Meggs whispered, taking Jamie. The baby rooted against his starchy bosom and then roared, purple with fury.

I don’t think that you have what he’s craving. Amy grinned.

He wouldn’t take the bottle?

No way. You know how stubborn he is. Where’s Tedi?

In the room with Bobby. They’re putting up a cot for her. He’s going to be fine. Phil has done every test he could think of.

That’s what Sam said. Man, he hit that floor hard then he just went limp, not a cry, not a whimper. Scared us all stiff. No one could move for a second or two. Aunt Connie got to him first, and then Phil.

Glad we didn’t see that.

Here, you talk to Uncle Cy and Aunt Stevie. I’ll take the Wolfman to Tedi. Freda and me are watching Yesi tonight. Your folks are taking Jamie, Amy said, reclaiming Jamie who was still carping about the dairy situation.

I thought Callie was taking Yesi.

Amy whispered. Wasn’t a good idea.

Wasn’t?

He shook his head and frowned. Tharon drove her home. Lucky thing Jones couldn’t get off to go to the dance tonight. She would hate to see her mother like that. Lauren and Ivy have Phillip.

Meggs nodded, giving Jamie a kiss. He chuckled as his son’s wailing disappeared down the hall.

The sudden quiet woke Cy who shifted and stretched. How did Bob check out?

Meggs took a seat in an easy chair. Should be home tomorrow. Tedi is in the room with him. Amy is hauling Jamie to the milk wagon. He is one pissed-off cowboy.

He was howling like a barratry. We tried to feed him. Didn’t want nothing to do with that bottle. Can’t say as I blame him. Rise and shine, Stevie Joy! Cy popped Stevie on the butt.

Oh. I was dreaming. Stevie yawned.

Must of been about Oscar the way you was smiling.

Cy Dupee, you hooligan! I am going to hand you that ass-chewing you’ve been begging for all night. Stevie tossed Cy’s cummerbund at him. She fished her shoes from under her chair and greeted her son. Hey, Meggs. How’s Bobby? Sam said the X-rays looked good.

Looks like the stitches will do it. He’ll have to stay here tonight. You don’t mind watching Jamie, do you?

No problem.

He should sleep once he eats. He usually sleeps all morning after one of his howlers. Tell Aunt Midge and Uncle Jaks that I am sorry we took you all away from the dance, Meggs said.

Cy was in a wrestling match with the cummerbund. Bobby is what everyone is worried about. Lot of people calling and stopping by. Connie and Dooley just left. Connie said she hadn’t had a fright like that since Bozo’s heart attack. Said Bobby wasn’t breathing when she got to him. Gave your mom and me a shock, too. In the short time we have had him…well, I’d hate to lose the little guy. He does take big chances. One minute he was in his glory tagging along after the big kids and the next he was tumbling down the stairs like a little beach ball. Didn’t happen to see Callie did you?

Uh, Amy said that Tharon drove Callie home. Freda and Amy are taking Yesi with them. We should be home with Bobby before noon. We’ll stop and pick up Jamie on our way.

She was stumbling drunk last time I saw her. Thanks to Mister Phil. I hope he’s happy with his date. He couldn’t have humiliated Callie more if he had pressed charges on that porch thing and sent her to jail for six months, Stevie muttered.

There didn’t seem to be anything to add to that, so Meggs kissed his mother on her cheek and shook his father’s hand for thanks. Then he made his way back to the room and took a weary seat in a rocker beside the crib where Bobby slept. He stretched his legs and kicked off his fancy pumps.

Chapter 5 -- Who Is That?

Meggs and the Girls

Soon enough Meggs drifted off. He found himself sitting in a booth under the big ceiling fan in the Whirl A Whip in Dodge City.

There was an ice cream soda the size of the Co Op elevator in front of him, complete with a candied cherry as red as the vinyl booth in which they sat. The jukebox was singing about a man standing on a corner watching all the girls go by.

The song was popular that year. His sisters and his Aunt Elena sang along to it whenever it came on the car radio. It was a mystery to Meggs why any right thinking man would want to stand on a corner and watch girls. His Grandpa Dudley told him it was probably because the girls were driving convertibles.

Meggs thought that might be it, but there were deeper and more ponderous mysteries afoot this particular afternoon: Who was this skinny, pointy-eared man sitting across from him and the girls? He had shown up out of the blue about a day ago, a mystery man who had all the money in the world to treat complete strangers, and kids to boot, to soda fountain ice cream.

Meggs took the cherry first, gripping the long, tricky spoon about midway up its handle, and shoveling the cherry fast and furious, lest one of the twins swipe it. He savored the nuts, the whipped cream, the sweet chewy cherry and chocolate syrup sliding down his parched throat. He closed his eyes to take in the full impact of it. A little dizzy, he opened them to check that it was not a dream. The soda still towered above him, cool and sassy.

He climbed to his feet to better assess the situation. By standing on the booth’s seat he managed to put his lips to the paper straw. Could anything this gorgeous to look at be good drinking as well as good eating? Curiously he gave it a sip. The earth moved. Music box chimes and giggling Disney critters filled his head. He closed his eyes and gave it his all.

Meggs! Stop that! Freda snapped.

Mom would smack you for slurping like that! Callie added, to be on top of things.

Nervously Meggs looked to Lauren who had been duly deputized to hand out public castigation. She was all fired up, her brown eyes flashing, her finger waving, but not at him. She was scolding the pointy-eared man: "I call him Daddy because the first letter I ever wrote to him he returned in six days. All that