| [1959] With his mouth open, slightly opened I | | | | said before a ten to twelve year old kid, looking |
| should say, grandpa’s mouth mumbled | | | | about, not at anything in particular, perhaps |
| (from long habit I expect, I | | | | making a peanut butter sandwich, or drinking a |
| presupposed—back then, back in the late | | | | glass of milk: glancing at grandpa now and then, |
| 50s and early 60s (when we all lived in an | | | | and pacing about, around in the kitchen as if I was |
| extended family type setting)) and I was but ten | | | | at the Alamo looking here and there for the |
| years old, there about: take or give a year or | | | | incoming enemy: that in itself annoyed grandpa: |
| two))—and I suppose from years of | | | | he’d always mumble to my mother: |
| practice) automatically opened (insulting whomever | | | | “…vay cant dat boy of yor play |
| at the moment, was by him, not directing it to | | | | outside…goddam it?” (he’d |
| the: noun (or: person, place or thing), just | | | | pause a moment, turn about and swear): |
| swearing away, swearing under his | | | | ‘…dam son of bitch, kick his ass |
| breath…in his broken English: | | | | out…!”It was summer, mother was |
| ‘…vat dam hell matter dhis | | | | at work, Grandpa semi retired now, he paced the |
| fu…kn pepe, god…dam son na | | | | living room like a wounded leopard, and it often |
| bitch…!” and when his mouth | | | | reminded me of that invisible rabbit, James |
| opened, things leaked out of his mouth like | | | | Stewart the actor portrayed in the movie |
| molasses); he watched me move about in the | | | | “Harvey,” I mean who was he |
| kitchen, looking over his spectacles, or glasses he | | | | talking to, like James Stewart, perhaps the invisible |
| seldom wore, except if he wanted to read the | | | | Harvey.Now grandpa was puffing away, and I got |
| paper, which he couldn’t read but every | | | | thinking—that’s cool, the pipe and |
| fifth word in English, the old Russian Bear | | | | all, but it takes a lot of work and coordination. I |
| —then grandpa started to strike his match | | | | can’t remember exactly, but I do |
| at the same time of his mumbling and sucking off | | | | remember being fascinated with his pipe, and I |
| the stem of his pipe, trying to ready himself to | | | | reason it came out when I got older, for as a |
| light his tobacco inside this black framed hole that | | | | young adult, I purchased a pipe, and became a |
| held the tobacco: and brown bottom drum called a | | | | copycat, not realizing I was, but I was.As a result, |
| pipe; stained from a decade’s use I | | | | when I see a man with a pipe nowadays, I often |
| expect; his mouth still moving, still talking to the | | | | think of grandpa, but even more so, the quite life |
| pipe or himself, not sure, he couldn’t have | | | | we had, the smoke of the pipe circulating the |
| been talking to me, he seldom did, perhaps a half | | | | living room, and then it fading into nothingness it |
| dozen times in ten-years, and today was not my | | | | was all about an unforgettable decade for me, it |
| lucky day, or my unfortunate day: as I was | | | | would rest on magical air, I’d think; it all |
| saying or about to say, he swept his hand | | | | seems so somber now, now that I’m |
| backwards, the match pulled away from the lit | | | | getting to his age.Note: Written at, ‘El |
| tobacco in the furnace of the pipe, the steam of | | | | Parquetito’ Cafe, in Lima, Peru 4/22/2006, |
| the pipe he was still sucking onto make sure it | | | | while having spaghetti, and enjoying the sun. |
| stayed hot and lit.Still talking to himself, I was as I | | | | |