costs...”
Mrs. Baker set the roast duck on the table with a disapproving thud, and Mr. Banks switched to a more pleasant subject.
“By the way, Mrs. Carillon, I do have a bit of good news. Mineola Potts will be paroled soon, now that I’ve found her a job.”
“Did you hear that, Mrs. Carillon,” Tina said. “Mineola Potts is getting out of jail.”
“Mineola Potts?” Mrs. Carillon looked puzzled.
“I have good news, too; though not as good as Mr. Banks’,” Augie Kunkel said modestly. “I’ve won third prize 37 for inventing the most difficult crossword puzzle.”
“Great!” Tony exclaimed. “Did you hear that, Mrs. Carillon? Mr. Kunkel won a prize.”
“That’s nice,” Mrs. Carillon said, to everyone’s relief. At least she hadn’t asked who Mr. Kunkel was.
“Crossword puzzles,” remarked Mr. Banks. “Now that might be a nice profession for you, Tina.”
“I’m going to be a doctor.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, young lady, you’re a girl. Now, maybe a nurse. . .”
“I’m going to be a doctor!”
“Veterinary, now there’s a profession. If you saw the bills from that horse doctor. . .”
Tony sensed that Mr. Banks was going to question him next. He tried to decide quickly what he wanted to be, but couldn’t make up his mind.
“I’m going to be a real doctor!” Tina insisted.
Mr. Banks shook his head and turned to Tony.
Tony still hadn’t made up his mind. All he could think of was sitting through another one of Mr. Banks’ lectures. In desperation he shouted, “Mrs. Carillon!” at the top of his lungs.
Tony’s piercing yell startled everyone at the table. Even Mrs. Carillon looked up as if aroused from a deep sleep.
“Yes, Tony?” she said.
Duck!
“Uh, Mrs. Carillon,” Tony repeated in a lowered voice, red-faced over his unexpected outburst, “uh . . . you’re not eating your duck.”
“Duck?” she said, inspecting the piece on her plate. “Duck?” Mrs. Carillon looked around the table. For the first time since she learned the true meaning of the glub-blubs , Mrs. Carillon smiled.
“Remember the last time we had duck?” she said, “. . . and the lace underwear . . . and Augie’s poor head....” Mrs. Carillon couldn’t continue; she was laughing too hard.
Mr. Banks thought he must be listening to the babblings of a lunatic.
Tina, Tony, and Augie Kunkel were laughing, too. They laughed at Mr. Banks’ frightened face, and they laughed because Mrs. Carillon had “gotten over it.” They laughed even louder when Augie Kunkel wiped his glasses with the greasy napkin and displayed his dirty spectacles; and when Mrs. Baker served the Camembert cheese, they laughed so hard they almost fell off their chairs.
Mr. Banks, realizing that all was well and back to its normal silliness, began eating again. He was the only one to have dessert; the others were too exhausted, and their cheeks hurt too much to eat.
Mrs. Carillon leaned back in her chair and returned the happy smiles that welcomed her back to reality.
“What day is today?” she asked.
“Tuesday, November 19,” Augie Kunkel replied, wiping his glasses with a clean napkin. “It’s almost Thanksgiving.”
Mrs. Carillon paled. She brushed the back of her hand across her forehead and swept away the memory of an earlier turkey-less dinner.
“Let’s really celebrate this year,” she said, smiling again. “I have so much to be thankful for.”
Turkey and Trimmings
The guests were expected at three o’clock. Mrs. Baker was chopping and mincing, grating and dicing, and singing away in a loud soprano. The twins were trying to figure out how many places to set at the table, but the noise from the kitchen made them lose count. They had never heard their cook sing before.
“She’s happy because her sister is getting out of jail today,” Tony explained.
“Then why is she singing ‘I Love You Truly’?”
The doorbell rang between a “tru-” and an “ly,” and in came Mr. Banks
Mrs. Baker set the roast duck on the table with a disapproving thud, and Mr. Banks switched to a more pleasant subject.
“By the way, Mrs. Carillon, I do have a bit of good news. Mineola Potts will be paroled soon, now that I’ve found her a job.”
“Did you hear that, Mrs. Carillon,” Tina said. “Mineola Potts is getting out of jail.”
“Mineola Potts?” Mrs. Carillon looked puzzled.
“I have good news, too; though not as good as Mr. Banks’,” Augie Kunkel said modestly. “I’ve won third prize 37 for inventing the most difficult crossword puzzle.”
“Great!” Tony exclaimed. “Did you hear that, Mrs. Carillon? Mr. Kunkel won a prize.”
“That’s nice,” Mrs. Carillon said, to everyone’s relief. At least she hadn’t asked who Mr. Kunkel was.
“Crossword puzzles,” remarked Mr. Banks. “Now that might be a nice profession for you, Tina.”
“I’m going to be a doctor.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, young lady, you’re a girl. Now, maybe a nurse. . .”
“I’m going to be a doctor!”
“Veterinary, now there’s a profession. If you saw the bills from that horse doctor. . .”
Tony sensed that Mr. Banks was going to question him next. He tried to decide quickly what he wanted to be, but couldn’t make up his mind.
“I’m going to be a real doctor!” Tina insisted.
Mr. Banks shook his head and turned to Tony.
Tony still hadn’t made up his mind. All he could think of was sitting through another one of Mr. Banks’ lectures. In desperation he shouted, “Mrs. Carillon!” at the top of his lungs.
Tony’s piercing yell startled everyone at the table. Even Mrs. Carillon looked up as if aroused from a deep sleep.
“Yes, Tony?” she said.
Duck!
“Uh, Mrs. Carillon,” Tony repeated in a lowered voice, red-faced over his unexpected outburst, “uh . . . you’re not eating your duck.”
“Duck?” she said, inspecting the piece on her plate. “Duck?” Mrs. Carillon looked around the table. For the first time since she learned the true meaning of the glub-blubs , Mrs. Carillon smiled.
“Remember the last time we had duck?” she said, “. . . and the lace underwear . . . and Augie’s poor head....” Mrs. Carillon couldn’t continue; she was laughing too hard.
Mr. Banks thought he must be listening to the babblings of a lunatic.
Tina, Tony, and Augie Kunkel were laughing, too. They laughed at Mr. Banks’ frightened face, and they laughed because Mrs. Carillon had “gotten over it.” They laughed even louder when Augie Kunkel wiped his glasses with the greasy napkin and displayed his dirty spectacles; and when Mrs. Baker served the Camembert cheese, they laughed so hard they almost fell off their chairs.
Mr. Banks, realizing that all was well and back to its normal silliness, began eating again. He was the only one to have dessert; the others were too exhausted, and their cheeks hurt too much to eat.
Mrs. Carillon leaned back in her chair and returned the happy smiles that welcomed her back to reality.
“What day is today?” she asked.
“Tuesday, November 19,” Augie Kunkel replied, wiping his glasses with a clean napkin. “It’s almost Thanksgiving.”
Mrs. Carillon paled. She brushed the back of her hand across her forehead and swept away the memory of an earlier turkey-less dinner.
“Let’s really celebrate this year,” she said, smiling again. “I have so much to be thankful for.”
Turkey and Trimmings
The guests were expected at three o’clock. Mrs. Baker was chopping and mincing, grating and dicing, and singing away in a loud soprano. The twins were trying to figure out how many places to set at the table, but the noise from the kitchen made them lose count. They had never heard their cook sing before.
“She’s happy because her sister is getting out of jail today,” Tony explained.
“Then why is she singing ‘I Love You Truly’?”
The doorbell rang between a “tru-” and an “ly,” and in came Mr. Banks
Similar Books
