The Buick: Section Ten

Johnny stood still, Jones' hand on his shoulder,

Watching his parents stand by the Buick,

Babette heated, but Jack remaining calm,

While the Reverend droned on about grace,

Johnny gasped as Babette hugged Jack,

Even if her shoulders were clearly tense

Leading his father back to the front porch.

"It's o.k., Reverend, we're of like minds.

I will leave you three gentlemen alone.

Jack has got a few things to tell Johnny,

Then I'd appreciate it if you'd show 

Him the way back to the bus terminal."

With a nod to the three of them, Babette

Swung on her heels and went into the house.

"I'll just stand over by that tree," Jones said,

"And give both of you the chance to catch up."

Jack motioned his son to sit on the stoop,

Pulling up his own pant legs as he sat.

"How have you been, son?" Jack's voice near breaking,

Surprised Johnny with natural rawness.

"I've been good," Johnny aware of the eyes

On them from all the houses on the street.

"Good. Really good to hear, John.

                                                 Your breathing?"

"It's better, Dad. Penicillin's helping."

Jack's smile was bigger than Johnny had seen,

"Fantastic! Open spaces must help too."

Jack wiped a piece of lint off his trousers,

"And how about school? You getting good grades?"

"Straight A's with a B in public speaking."

"Super." 

            Then after a pause, "I've missed you."

Aware of his mother's gaze through the blinds,

Johnny struggled to know how to reply.

"How'd you find us?' Johnny finally said.

"I've been looking for well over a year.

I got a little lucky. Your Mom's friend,

Gladys Stone, offered to forward letters

To you, but I guess you never got them.

One was returned with a Great Falls' address,

So I hopped on a Greyhound.

                                           Here I am.

Stopped at the first church I ran into,

Where Reverend Jones knew all about you."

Johnny eyed the reverend tossing rocks.

"Lucky, yes, Fred conducts the choir at church."

Jack smiled, turned to look at the house.

"Is he good to you, John?" "Oh, very kind."

"Good.

          I told your Ma I want a divorce,

And then we can both get remarried.

Just know,"

                 Jack hesitated as he searched

For the right words, "That we both love you and

All of this has nothing to do with you."

Johnny stifled a tear, nodding his head,

But discovered his mouth had gone bone dry.

"Tell you what, John. Your mother has agreed

To allow me writing you directly.

Get ready for some letters, news about 

Eddie Yost, Mickey Vernon, Stan Spence.

Maybe this year we can win the pennant."

Johnny could feel his dad's hand on his knee,

But couldn't see past the tears in his eyes.

"Write back if you want to. I'd treasure it."

The silence seemed to envelope him,

As both of them struggled to continue.

The reverend cleared his throat, Babette

Loudly swung open the porch's screen door.

"Can I get a hug, John, before I leave?"

Johnny stood up and opened his arms wide,

Embraced the man he had been told to fear.

"I missed you too, dad," he finally said.

With a tip of his hat toward the house,

A soft step toward Reverend Jones' car,

Jackson Franklin Wilkinson took his leave.

Link to Section Eleven/Post-Script

Link to Section One