The Personal History, Adventures, Experiences & Observations of Peter Leroy
The Personal History, Adventures, Experiences & Observations of Peter Leroy
🎧 818: β€œIs this . . .”
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🎧 818: β€œIs this . . .”

At Home with the Glynns, Chapter 14 concludes, read by the author
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Β Β Β Β Β β€œIs this the only color you useβ€”black?” I asked.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œIt’s charcoal gray,” he corrected me. β€œAnd no, it’s not the only color. If you look closely at each of my paintings, you’ll find a little bit of pink in it somewhere.”
Β Β Β Β Β β€œAha!” I said. β€œI thought so.”
Β Β Β Β Β Again, he made the look of a giant smelling a rat.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œWe’ll never see the movie if we don’t get going!” called Margot.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œBe right there,” I called, and then realized that I was being presumptuous. I still had to pass the test: I still had to draw my favorite animal. I made a swipe at the canvas with the roller. It left a low arch of charcoal gray.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œHm,” said Mr. Glynn.
Β Β Β Β Β I made another swipe and left an inverted arch under the first. Then I held the roller with both hands, like a broadsword, and dragged it horizontally, so that it didn’t roll at all, but left a thinner line between the two arches.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œAh!” said Mr. Glynn. I think he liked my technique. He looked at what I’d done. He looked at me. He looked at my painting again. He stepped back from it, to the limit of the planking. He moved to the left. He moved to the right. He rubbed his nose. β€œWhat is it?” he asked.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œA clam,” I said.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œA clam? That’s your favorite animal?”
Β Β Β Β Β β€œYeah.”
Β Β Β Β Β β€œWhy?”
Β Β Β Β Β β€œWell, they don’t bite, for one thing.”
Β Β Β Β Β β€œPeeeterrrr!” called Margot, from far below.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œAnd,” said Mr. Glynn, with the raised eyebrow that, it seemed to me, he probably used to indicate an attitude of easy familiarity with his artist colleagues, β€œthey’re easy to draw.”
Β Β Β Β Β β€œYes, sir,” said I. I handed him the roller.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œYou want to take my daughters to the movies,” he said.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œUmβ€”they want me to take them to the movies,” I said. Then I immediately corrected myself. β€œWalk them to the movies.” He seemed not to understand the distinction, so I added, β€œI’m not going to pay.”
Β Β Β Β Β β€œOh,” he said, β€œI see,” and he burst out laughing.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œDaaaady!” cried both girls. β€œCan’t we go now?”
Β Β Β Β Β β€œI’m afraid not,” said Mr. Glynn.
Β Β Β Β Β To this day, I cannot relive the moment of his saying that without a crushing feeling of defeat. I looked at my painting of a clam. Was it that badβ€”so bad that I wasn’t qualified to walk his daughters to the movies?
Β Β Β Β Β β€œI’m not going to let my daughters go to the movies with a strange boy,” he called, and he shrugged.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œHe’s not that strange!” shouted Martha.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œYou know what I mean,” said Mr. Glynn. He gave me what I accepted as an apologetic look.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œThen let us go alone!” wailed Margot.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œWe’ve been through all that,” said Mr. Glynn. He turned to me. β€œWhen you grow up, you’ll understand,” he asserted. β€œA father likes to get to know a fellow before he’ll let him take his girls to the movies.”
Β Β Β Β Β β€œWalk,” I said.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œYeah, well, even before he’ll let a fellow walk his girls to the movies.”
Β Β Β Β Β β€œOkay,” I said. I headed for the ladder. There was probably still time to catch most of Duel in the Dust, after all. Mr. Glynn followed me to the ladder and laid a hand on my shoulder before I began climbing down.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œPeter?” he said, almost in a whisper.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œYeah?”
Β Β Β Β Β β€œWhy don’t you come back and see me tomorrow? We can start getting to know each other.”
Β Β Β Β Β β€œOkay,” I said, and felt my heart leap up. Perhaps the fault lay only in my strangeness and not in my clam.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œMaybe I can teach you how to draw,” he added.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œSure,” I said.
Β Β Β Β Β I descended the ladder with my head down, so that I wouldn’t have to look at my defective attempt.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œNice try, Peter,” Martha said when we were at the door.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œI think it was the middle part,” I said.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œHuh?” said Margot.
Β Β Β Β Β β€œThe line where the two shells join,” I explained. β€œIt should have beenβ€”I don’t knowβ€”differentβ€”better.”

[to be continued]

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The Personal History, Adventures, Experiences & Observations of Peter Leroy
The Personal History, Adventures, Experiences & Observations of Peter Leroy
The entire Personal History, Adventures, Experiences & Observations of Peter Leroy, read by the author. "A masterpiece of American humor." Los Angeles Times
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