Lunch Date

Oh, look. It was here, right here, that’s the place I met your father. That school right there. Which is strange because I know we’re in Canada and we aren’t Canadian. Those damn Canadians, always thinking every place is their country, Hahahahaha, see I can joke about it even though it’s strange. Like so many things are strange. Laugh in the face of fear, I’ve always said. Because he who laughs last laughs last. Canadians. I could teach them all a thing or two. And that’s funny, you know, because see that sign over there? It says Home of the New Jersey Devils. So there, Canada. Got you this time. Anyway, speaking of this time, or that time then, there’s the high school where your father went to school and where he and I met at a dance. You were much younger then. Don’t look at me with that face! You were younger! To tell the truth, he was quite dashing tall and slender in his short little fat tie and his high-waisted trousers and his green eyes and his flaming red hair. So dashing. I should say he was dashing, well, wouldn’t I? Who wouldn’t? Anyone would fall for that guy. His teammates called him Big, Dumb and Ugly but they were just jealous. I should say they were jealous. They always said he hit like a truck unloading. Well who wouldn’t be jealous. Man like him. Once we were fighting and I said, Why did we get married anyway? And he said because I was too big, dumb and ugly for everyone else. Those were the days when dances and double features were all we had. This was before the war, when nobody had anything. Then the war came and we had more and we had less at the same time. It was before the war but after my father left us, after Mother went nuts. I should say she was nuts. But we mustn’t look back on the past and hold grudges. Then we’d be as bad as those damn grudge-holding Canadians, trying to take everything back like it used to be theirs and now they come down here and say we’re in Canada. Canada my sweet backside. It was Mother who took me to the orphanage. She was going to leave me there. I cried and screamed and begged her please don’t leave me, Mother, please please please don’t leave me. And she said — and I’ll never forget these words until later, I suppose — she said I can’t bear it, child. I can’t go on. But I’ve got to leave you with somebody.  I’ve got to make sure you have a chance. And I cried and put up a fuss. And just then the nun answered the door. She was all in white and looked like an angel, only scary. Well, I guess angels are a little bit scary. They sure as hell aren’t teddy bears. And so this angel nun brings us inside and they put me on a chair in a dark hallway and talked inside the room there, the nun’s office. And down the hall some of the boys were walking down the stairs and, as they did so, their eyes rolled back in their heads and they hissed at me. And I screamed. I should say I screamed! Who wants to live with demons? I raised quite a fuss. And finally, it felt like a long time, finally the door opened a crack and mother came out looking small and annoyed and she said to me you can shut up now, they can’t take you anyway. They’re all full. I was happy until we got to our cousins’ house and my aunt came out in the yard and got real close to Mother and they talked in low voices I could still hear and she jerked her thumb toward me and said, I thought I told you to come alone. I don’t know why she said that. It wasn’t like I was Canadian. I was family! Well, anyway, I would say I was family. And that high school is where it all began. Our family. The family with you, even though you were an uncle of mine back then. Anyway, you look like my uncle. I should say you do. The dances were quite a thing. I can still remember mending my dresses and making up. I don’t want to lie to you — I was a great dancer. I should say I was! More than once, my date and I won contests. Your father wasn’t a great dancer but he was athletic, so he could fake it, with the moves, you know. Coordinated. We wound up standing very, very close under the back steps to my cousins’ apartment after one of these dances. And he was a good man about it, he did the right thing. I should say he was a good man. We ran away and got married in St. Louis. Mother said this never would have happened if the orphanage had taken me. I suppose not. I wonder what would have happened if we’d run off to Canada. We’d probably think we were the kings of the world by now. We’d come down here now and tell all you Yankee Doodles to just give it up. Hahaha. Yeah, that’s what we’d do. It was a long time ago and we mustn’t feel sad about things that happen. It’s just that it’s all so terribly lonely. And then you — hey, is the place we’re going? Boston Chicken? It doesn’t say Toronto Chicken, does it? It doesn’t say Montreal Chicken. Does it say Saskatoon Chicken? Does it? I’m asking you.

No, Mom. It does not. It says Boston Chicken.

You’re damn right it does. Those Canadians can take a lot of things but they'll never take our pride.

Or our fast food names.

Right. That’s my point, see. It’s just that nobody listens to me. It’s just that I’ve got a lot of things to say and every damn day nobody listens. I could go on and on and still nobody listens. I just wish someone would listen.

Mom, are you done? We’re here.

Oh. Boston Chicken. I guess we are. Let’s get in there before the Canadians take it over and change the name.

Let’s.