Chapter 2

The new house and neighborhood were like another world. There were no dilapidated houses, crammed into narrow weed-filled yards with the steady hum and screech of traffic nearby. Dad had stressed to the realtor, “The most important requirement is a good location.” Their new white two-story house had a fenced, flower-filled back yard, and was on a quiet street near green lawns, with people they didn’t even know smiling at them. The day they moved in, the children in the next yard leaned against the fence and smiled.

To Larry, it soon felt like home. The house was theirs; they weren’t just using it like the others. They all worked to fix up the house, and on Saturdays, they drove around to explore the area of corner stores, churches, schools, parks, well-kept homes, and welcoming neighbors.

Before long, Larry and his brothers and the neighbor boys were good friends. When school started, they walked to school together; and one day, Larry met a chubby boy with a crew cut, who was in the same grade and lived nearby. They became best friends, and because he was Larry’s first real friend, he said he was his buddy, and he called him ‘Bud.’

Larry was beginning to feel secure. When sad thoughts came to him about the old neighborhood, the run-down houses with bullies lying in wait behind them, he pushed the thought away till it felt as if they’d never happened. He didn’t want things spoiled for him now.

The first year in the new house brought changes. Larry and his brothers wore crew cuts, and Larry now wore glasses. Dad bought a ping pong table for the basement, and Mom bought a piano. But lessons for Larry, with the boys waiting outside, was too much. He closed the lid and slid off the bench, “I don’t want this. They’re waiting for me.” He ran outside and they all left for the park. They returned later patting Larry on the back. He’d made the longest home run. He wore a big grin, his shoulders seemed straighter, as if he’d shed a weight he’d been carrying.

A week later, Larry saw Dad wearing a big smile, “Boys, we’ve got a house, now let’s get ourselves a dog. What do you say?”

“Yeah, Dad, can we?” Larry’s face lit up.

“Sure. Neighbors down the street have some puppies. Let’s go!”

Soon they were gathered around a pen holding six yellow Lab puppies. Larry picked one up and he held her gently while she reached up and licked his face. He laughed, “Can we get this one, Dad? What’ll we name her?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You boys pick out a name.”

At home, huddled in a circle with the puppy in the middle licking their hands, they named her Ginger. That night she slept at the foot of Larry’s bed, as she would continue to do each night. He began to think of her as his dog.

The rest of the summer was full. Relatives from “up north” came down to visit. And the boys joined Cub Scouts and earned money mowing lawns. Later, they signed up for paper routes, and early each morning, after tossing their papers on neighbors’ steps, they proudly jingled money in their pockets. One day, after they’d finished their routes, they decided to have a little fun. They giggled as they thought of the mischief they planned. They ran to the park, picked out a tree with a big hole in the trunk, and threw in a lit firecracker. They ran away laughing at the loud “boom” behind them. But the next day they checked on the tree and were glad they hadn’t done any damage. Most of the time, after their jobs were done, they rode their bikes to the park to cool off in the pool, or they hung around in the backyard with the neighbor kids. One day, Larry lay on his side on the grass as he watched his brothers wrestle with the neighbor boys as they laughed and teased each other. It was so different from … then the feeling surfaced …being surrounded and trying to ward off blows. He was startled and he pushed the feeling away. He got up and reminded himself where he was now, a place where those bad things didn’t happen. He soon forgot, and he went back to watching the fun.

The first Autumn in the new house brought more good things: ‘trick or treating’ on Halloween, raking leaves into a pile and jumping in as Ginger barked and ran in circles, holiday festivals at school and church. As he lay in bed at night, with the quilt tucked under his chin, he silently thanked Mom and Dad for finding this place to live in. And, as he was learning at church, he thanked God who they said provided good things.

Then, it was the first winter. The boys scooped up snow in the backyard and had a snowball fight until Dad pulled out the snow shovels and said, “Go to it.” Larry stamped the snow off his boots as he came in from shoveling, then Mom made popcorn and they all sat around and watched TV and watched the snow falling. Larry settled farther down in the plump couch cushions. It was like this every day now, normal and good since they’d moved. He leaned back, munching popcorn, and laughing with the family, as a comedy filled the screen.

Seasons passed, the boys were growing, and now Larry was in the seventh grade. He came through the back door one day after school, “If I keep studying like this, I’m going to go crazy.”

* * *

His mother, her hands in the dishwater, looked puzzled and she was about to question him, but he dropped his books on the dining room table and hurried out the door. She watched from the window as he ran to join the neighbor boys. What was that all about? Things are going well. And they’ve been told he’s very intelligent. But she was uneasy. She shook her head and went back to the dishes. But, later, she’d remember.

* * *

The years passed, and Larry and his brothers, now in their teens, were growing tall and lean, and school wasn’t the only thing in their lives. They enjoyed sports, and during winter they often skated at the park. One day, Dad joined them, and they stared in surprise as he skillfully skated past them, then toward them, and sidestepped in front of them, his skates spraying ice shavings. “Didn’t know I used to play hockey, did you?” He laughed and skated away as they watched in admiration.

Winters also included spending Christmases at their grandparents’ in the familiar small-town lit up with colored lights strung the main street. In the house filled with relatives, Larry joined in discussions and jokes with cousins and uncles as they gathered around the cookstove in the big kitchen. Later, they played checkers around the dining room table while Grandpa looked on and chuckled. Grandpa had laughed out loud one day, when Larry, only seven then, had said, “Grandpa, will you help me cheat?”

But Larry’s favorite trip was the summer trip to their grandparents’ lake cabin. One hot July day, when he was in his sophomore year, he and his brothers were eager to get out of the hot city and head north to the cabin. They helped load the car, then they were on their way, with Dad saying, “Back to the Iron Range.” Hours later, after passing the huge rust-colored, open-pit mines, and the city of Virginia, they knew they were almost there. When they exited the highway, and as the car bumped around the rutted lake road, they waited impatiently for the lake to come into view. Then they rounded a curve, and the huge, blue expanse of Lake Vermillion, ringed by pine trees, cabins and docks, spread out in front of them. Larry could see his grandparents’ cabin, and his grandparents walking toward their car. Grandpa, wearing his straw hat, was smiling and greeting them with his usual “Hullo!”

Larry and his brothers unloaded the car, then they changed into swimming trunks, dashed down the hill, dove of the dock, and swam out to deep water. Larry felt the cool water envelop him, then he rose to the surface and saw his brothers’ smiling faces. They swam back to the dock and, dripping wet, hoisted themselves up and lay, exhausted on the sun-warmed wood to dry off. Later, Larry walked along the shore—pocketing agates and watching minnows dart back and forth in the clear water, till the aroma of frying fish drew him to the cabin.

After supper, he lay on an over-stuffed couch in the cabin his grandfather had built. Polka music and the click of dishes being put away drifted from the kitchen where his mother and his plump Slovenian grandmother were working. He could hear his brothers, father, and grandfather talking and laughing in the screened porch as they slapped playing cards on the table. Larry relaxed, surrounded by the comfort of family, and then he joined the card players till Grandpa’s good-natured “Time for bed.” In the bedroom, the breeze through the window screen carried the faint scent of pines. He could hear the rustling branches as the wind picked up. He woke the next morning to the smell of coffee and the sound of more polka music. He threw off the blanket, and got dressed. His cousins were coming today!

Around late morning, cars lined the road, and relatives gathered in the cabin and under the trees. Children splashed in the shallow water. Larry and his brothers and cousins, with the Sun hot on their bare backs, pushed a log raft onto the lake and jumped on. Larry steered with a long pole while the others dangled their legs in the water. Larry saw his mother on the shore taking their picture. Toward the end of the day, Grandpa built a fire in the outdoor fireplace. With the sound of the waves washing up on the shore, they sat by the fire roasting wieners and marshmallows and reminiscing. When the Sun set and the moon cast a rippling reflection on the lake, conversation slowed and relatives exchanged hugs and goodbyes. After the...