Unexpected Company

When my Aunt Marie was alive, I used to stop by every day after school for milk and cookies. I would play with Pistol and Crystal, their two lovable Siamese cats, and listen to her stories about 'The Old Country' until it was time to meet my mother returning from her shift at the restaurant. I loved my Aunt Marie, but I was drawn to my father's only brother, Gray even more. (His real name was Vincent, but no one ever called him that.) He had a special way with kids and always understood me. Maybe it had to do with setting boundaries. Mom and Pop were so strict and he was such a free spirit. I don't really know.

I decided to pay him a visit, leaving my paddleball on the porch table and going inside to fetch my boots, yellow rain slicker and umbrella. I tried telephoning several times, but his line was busy. I hoped he wouldn't be mad at me for coming unannounced as I traipsed through the rainy streets. The rows of two family homes became one gray wavering blur as I passed, headed for the intersection at Coney Island Avenue. I stood at the corner under the gnarled oak tree in front of St. Rose's Church and waited impatiently for the light to change. I could feel my breath catching in my throat and when I saw the flash of green, I rushed across the street.