OOO-EEE

Turning from the window, you see your cousin's little brother, Joey, afflicted with hydrocephaly from birth. He's slobbering again, so you wipe his mouth. When they left to go to the store, it was only about 35 degrees and overcast. Now it's a howling snowstorm. In Virginia. In December. The weatherman was wrong again. That old 49 Ford sedan wasn't equipped for this weather. Even a ten year old like you knows that. Nobody has called either. The phone is dead. You can see the tree on the line just outside the door. No electricity either. So you stir up the fire a little. There seems to be enough wood for a while. Joey whimpers, but you cheer him up, singing the "witch doctor" song. He always gives his little toothless smile and his eyes brighten when you sing the words, "OOO-EEE, OOH-AHH-AHH, TING! TANG! WALLAH-WALLAH, BING-BANG!..." He's almost four now, and can't walk or talk, but he manages to let you know he feels loved when you do things for him. The grown-ups say there is nothing the doctors can do for him. Your Daddy said that you'd think that here it is, almost 1960, with A-bombs and such, they could figure out how to fix little Joey. Taking care of him is very tiring. A four-year old with a full diaper is difficult to lift and change. They feed him with a spoon, very carefully, sitting up on a chair, liquids only, because he can't chew. So it's good they left you some full bottles of formula for him.

Several hours have passed now. The fire is getting low. You throw the last of the wood on it, hoping the grown-ups will get home soon. Joey has been asleep, but he wakes up when he hears the fire crackling more loudly again as you stir the ashes and push the logs around. You check on him, and he looks at you expectantly. So you sing again, "OOO-EEE..." and he grins and slobbers, so you wipe his mouth. Then you smell the nasty cloth diaper. Ugh! He looks at you adoringly as you wash his nasty butt. So you feel bad for resenting the stench as you clean him up. You get him clean, and he shivers, so you wrap another blanket around him after dressing him. The wind howls even more outside as it gets dark. Your parents and Aunt Margaret are nowhere in sight. You're scared now, a little. What if they aren't able to come home because of the storm? What if they're in an accident in the snow? The fire is getting low again. You put the last of the wood on it. You go to the linen closet and gather all the blankets, in case the wood runs out and it gets cold before they get home. You look at Joey. He wants the OOO-EEE song again, you can tell. So you sing it. This time, you say, "Joey, you sing WITH me!" Joey has never spoken in his life. They say he can't. But you say it anyway, just to see if he can or if he'll try. It takes your own mind off your fears for a moment. He gives his signature "Joey" grin when you challenge him. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. "That's okay," you tell him, "We'll try again in a little while." And you smile at him. Then you think to yourself, wondering whether he understands that you love him, and he's not just some big flesh and blood doll to you. You hope he understands. "I love you, Joey" you tell him, and he rewards you with another drooling grin.

It is now very dark outside. The wood has run out. The fire is dying. So you make sure Joey's diaper is clean, and you put his little coat on him. Then you wrap him and yourself together in every blanket you have found in the house, while lying together on his Mother's bed. You sing to him again while he drools, then you wipe his face. His Daddy, your Uncle Irvin, has left home last year. Aunt Margaret says it was just as well. He was always drunk, screaming at her and Joey and Becky, Joey's sister for no reason. Nobody knows where he is. Aunt Margaret has filed for divorce. You wonder whether Joey understands any of it.

The fire has gone out. It's cold. Very cold. You ask Joey if he's cold. He drools. Then you feel a warm, wet liquid soaking you both. You dare not change him now. You'd both freeze when the covers were opened. So you sing again. He grins. You ask him to sing with you. He opens his mouth as if to try, but still, nothing comes out. He looks sad. So you tell him it's alright. "We'll keep trying, Joey" you tell him. So you sing, over and over, "OOO-EEE, OOH-AHH-AHH, TING! TANG! WALLAH-WALLAH, BING-BANG!..." while Joey grins and slobbers as he tries to open his mouth to sing with you.

Your breath under the covers, with the flashlight you found, helps you stay warm, but you have to open the covers every few minutes to get air, and because Joey has had a movement in his diaper as well. Slowly, you find yourself dozing off, but you're afraid you and Joey will freeze if you do.

You hear a noise. It sounds like a car! But you can't be sure in the howling wind, so you stay in the covers, waiting anxiously for another sound. "Was it a car, really?"" Or just the wind," you wonder aloud. The wait seems to last forever. Then you hear it again. The front door opens, and you hear your Dad's voice and the sound of wood being placed in the fireplace as he begins restarting the fire to warm the room. Your Mom and Aunt rush into the bedroom, asking if you and Joey are alright. You start crying out of relief, when suddenly your hear a little voice next to you whisper, "OOO-EEE".