22
I WALKED HOME QUICKLY, through back yards and along lightly traveled streets. The sky was dark, and the wind had begun to rise. If it had been a summer afternoon, I would have said that the rumble in the distance was thunder. When I got home, I dashed inside and went directly to my room, where I sat on my bed holding my camera and wondering what to do.
I heard the phone ring downstairs, but I made no move to answer it. I didn’t want to speak to Spike or Veronica or anyone else who was after a part. My mother came to the foot of the stairs and called up to me. “It’s for you, Peter,” she said.
“It’s not Spike, is it?” I asked.
“Noooo,” she said.
“It’s not Veronica, is it?” I asked.
“Noooo,” she said. She was wearing a playful smile. “It’s Clarissa Bud. She seems very eager to talk to you.”
“Oh,” I said, relieved. “Clarissa.” I went to the hall and picked up the phone. “Hello,” I said.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Leroy,” said Clarissa. “I wanted to speak to Peter.”
“This is Peter,” I said.
“My goodness!” said Clarissa. “I didn’t recognize your voice. You sound so grown-up on the phone. Say something else.”
“Uh—what should I say?”
“That’s amazing!” she declared. “You sound so strong and firm. Of course, that’s the way you sounded this afternoon, when you were on the stage. I was really impressed. I think everybody else was, too.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Oh, yes,” she said. She delivered the words with lots of air, making herself sound out of breath, as if she’d been running. “Well—how have you been?”
“I’m still okay,” I said.
“What do you mean, you’re still okay?” she asked.
“Huh?” I said. I felt as if I’d heard her for the first time. I realized that I’d been preoccupied with the idea of Spike’s breaking my foot with a brick or Veronica’s showing up at the back door with my underpants in her hand. “Oh,” I said. “I—I mean nothing happened to me on the way home from school or anything.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Clarissa said. She sounded bewildered. Then she took a deep breath, and with even more air than before she said, “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. I’ve missed you.”
“You’ve missed me?” I asked. “You mean since three o’clock?”
“I feel as if I haven’t seen you for days,” she said. “I miss your smile. You have that cute little dimple.”
“I do?” I said. I tried to drag the phone over to the hall mirror.
“Oh, yes!” she said. “In fact, you have one-and-a-half dimples. One on the right side, and a half on the left.”
“Is that bad?” I asked.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I think it’s cute.”
“Hold on a minute, Clarissa,” I said. “I want to go look in the mirror.”
I started to put the handset down, but I heard her calling to me. “Peter, wait. Don’t go away. I want to invite you to dinner.”
“Dinner?” I asked, and I brightened at once.
“Tomorrow night,” said Clarissa. “I hope you’re not doing anything then.”
“Oh, no,” I said. “I’m not doing anything.”
Have you missed an episode or two or several?
You can begin reading at the beginning or you can catch up by visiting the archive or consulting the index to the Topical Guide.
You can listen to the episodes on the Personal History podcast. Begin at the beginning or scroll through the episodes to find what you’ve missed.
You can ensure that you never miss a future issue by getting a free subscription. (You can help support the work by choosing a paid subscription instead.)
At Apple Books you can download free eBooks of “My Mother Takes a Tumble,” “Do Clams Bite?,” “Life on the Bolotomy,” “The Static of the Spheres,” “The Fox and the Clam,” “The Girl with the White Fur Muff,” “Take the Long Way Home,” and “Call Me Larry,” the first eight novellas in Little Follies.
You’ll find an overview of the entire work in An Introduction to The Personal History, Adventures, Experiences & Observations of Peter Leroy. It’s a pdf document.
Share this post