9
LARRY’S MOTHER was entirely occupied with domestic affairs, although she didn’t actually do much work. Marie did most of the cooking, though Mrs. Peters had several dishes for which she was famous: her chow-chow relish, piccalilli, one-eyed Egyptians, hoppin’ John, and pigs-in-blankets were family favorites. Marie made the beds, did the laundry, ordered supplies for delivery from Murky Bay, and generally bustled around, wisecracking, pushing dust around, and offering down-to-earth advice. Employees of the knickknack works did the heavier maintenance chores. Mrs. Peters was the domestic manager. She organized everything. It was clear to me from the start that although there was a surface dottiness to her character, she made everything in the Peters ménage work. None of the Peterses could be described as level-headed, but Antonia Peters possessed the levelest of the Peters heads. She was the only member of the Peters family who could be counted on, when six or seven things were happening at once, to pick out the one thing that most needed immediate attention. Consider the situation in The Camel’s Back. One morning, after Lucinda has brought the workers from shore to the island on the Peters barge, a resounding crash, coming from who-knows-where on the island, rattles the windows in the big old Peters house. At that moment, the family is gathered in the dining room, eating breakfast.
“My goodness!” cried Mrs. Peters. “What was that?”
“It was a crash of some kind,” said Larry. “Would you pass me the sausages, Dad?”
“Do you think it might have been serious?” asked Mrs. Peters.
“Oh, I doubt it, dear,” said Edgar Peters. He put his fork down and reached for a platter of link sausages. He stopped before actually raising the platter, however. “Did you want the link sausages, Larry, or the sausage patties?” he asked.
“Gee, I’m not sure,” said Larry. “What kind are you having, Sexpot?” he asked Lucinda in the wisecracking tone that brother and sister used with each other.
“I’m going to have one of those cute little links,” she replied saucily. “They’re just about the size of your—”
“I think we should investigate,” said Mrs. Peters. Her brow was furrowed with concern.
“I haven’t had any complaints yet, Green Eyes,” Larry asserted cockily, passing the platter of link sausages to his sister.
“Stop teasing, you two,” said Edgar Peters in the kindly tone he always used with his son and daughter. “Antonia,” he said to his wife, in the reassuring tone he often employed when speaking with her, “I’m sure that if anything serious has occurred, my brother Hector will be here shortly to tell us all about it.”
“The only reason Larry hasn’t had any complaints,” said a tall, handsome young man who suddenly stepped through the doorway to the dining room, “is that he hasn’t had any customers.”
“Rocky!” squealed Lucinda. She leaped from her chair, upsetting her glass of prune juice, and ran to Rocky. She threw herself at the smiling young man, winding her arms around his neck and her long, honey-colored legs around his waist. She began covering his face with kisses.
“Hey, take it easy, Hot Stuff,” said Rocky, cupping her tight pubescent buttocks in his large and muscular hands. “I’ve had a long, hard night.”
“Did you learn anything about that swarthy stranger, Rocky?” asked Edgar Peters, in the sober tone he employed when there was a problem to be solved.
“Dear,” said Antonia Peters, “I really think that before we do anything else we ought to investigate that crash.” There was a petulant tone in her voice, which Edgar Peters interpreted as meaning that she felt she was being ignored.
“Now, dear—” he began, thinking that it might be best to humor her and investigate the crash, so that they could get on to more important things.
“Hey, I heard that too,” said Rocky. With Lucinda still wrapped around him, he made his way to the sideboard, where he took a piece of raisin-bread toast from a silver toast caddy. “There was a lot of dust and debris falling out of the air in the vicinity of the design building.” He winked at Larry and said, “I figured it was one of your projects, Larry.”
“I really think that we—” began Antonia Peters, but just then Hector Peters, Edgar Peters’s brother, burst into the dining room, dragging behind him, covered with dust from head to toe, Ignatz Steinmetz, the brilliant European gewgaw designer who had become, in two short years, one of the most valuable members of the Peters team.
“Edgar!” cried Hector. “We’re ruined!”
“There you are, Antonia,” said Edgar Peters, reaching out to pat his wife’s hand in a reassuring manner. “I told you that if the crash was serious Hector would soon be here to tell us about it.” He turned to his brother, his eyebrows drawn together in a look of grave concern. “It’s serious then, Hector?” he asked.
“Steinmetz,” said Hector Peters, “tell him what you told me.”
“Ruins!” cried the world-renowned designer. “Everything is in ruins!” When he gesticulated, and he gesticulated extravagantly, dust flew from his laboratory coat. His left cheek was badly scraped, and his hands were trembling. “We were working on the new models, and Entwhistle said, ‘How about a cup of coffee, Iggie?’ and I said, ‘Sure, why not?’ and then—kerwhammy! The roof falls in and the whole place is a shambles!”
In Topical Guide 194, Mark Dorset considers Name: What’s in a and Name: Nickname; Moniker; Sobriquet; Epithet; Hypocorism; Cognomen from this episode.
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🎧 194: Larry’s mother . . .