Cemetery Street - Page 65/263

"Yes you are and who did you see?" mother persisted.

"No one."

"Tell her. I want to hear her tits in a flutter," Shannie cried.

"Stan." I blurted.

"Oh my God, you're going to tie her panties in a knot," Shannie laughed.

"Stan? Stan who?," mother asked.

"Geezus Pete, what a maroon," Shannie's voice filled the receiver. I covered my other ear in an attempt to keep Shannie's voice from echoing into the kitchen.

I pointed to the living room where Grandfather, sitting roughly in the same spot as Manson the night of his persuasion, was watching Jeopardy. "That Stan, Granddad."

"Damn It James, I wish you so him some respect."

"I show him a lot of respect. He doesn't want to be called something gay so I call him by his name. What's wrong with that?"

"You go boy. Give her hell," Shannie cheered.

"Don't get smart with me. I'm asking you to show a little respect. Is that too much to ask for?

I burst out laughing as Shannie sung out R-E-S-P-E-C-T. That's all the old bag needs."

"What's so funny? Who are you talking to?"

"Count."

"Are you sure you're not talking to that little tramp."

"That bitch," Shannie started. "Where does she get off calling me a tramp? That cunt"

"Why do you always have to slam Shannie," I yelled, hoping to grab Grandfather's attention.

"Don't you raise your voice to me." She came towards me gesturing for the phone. "Give me the phone."

"NO. I'm talking."

"Hang up the phone," mother ordered. "Hang up the phone or I swear I'll return every last present."

"What a bitch. Don't you dare hang up the phone; stick to your guns."

"Leave me alone, I wasn't bothering you," I complained.

"Shannie who are you calling a bitch?" Diane's voice leaked through the phone.

"I'm warning you James; I'm not kidding."

"Merry old maid Morrison," Shannie answered Diane.

"Take 'em back. Take 'em all back. See what I care. You're not getting me anything I want anyway." My mother's face turned purple and her eyes filled with insanity. With the return of her scowl, I knew she had recovered from the miscarriage.

"I can think of worse things to call her," Diane quipped.

"Damn it Mary," Grandfather bellowed over my shoulder. "Leave the boy alone?"