The Wonderful Life of Pumpkin
In this blog post, I will compose a scene in the present tense from my present life. However, due to my creative mind, it will ultimately take place in 1977, just like in blog post #2. I'd just like to remind all of you reading this that this story really is from last week. In order to flawlessly create this week's blog post, I have read What is Creative Nonfiction? (Lee Gutkind), Making Scenes in Memoir (Lee Martin), and My Name is Margaret (Maya Angelou). So there I sit, with my dad on the front porch of our shore house, in the early days of 1977, before I purchase my lemon of a Fairlane. Everybody and their mother delights in discussing that new movie, "Smokey and the Bandit", as they walk down the street. But that's not what dear old dad and I talk about that fateful night. As we come to learn, the name of the cat across the street from us is Pumpkin. Pumpkin is a bit more of an outdoor cat. You see, across the street from us, where Pumpkin lives, there was a wide driveway which had at least six houses all using it. I call it a complex, mostly because it really is. Anyway, Pumpkin, this orange and white cat, lives in a light blue house in the back left corner of the driveway, which faces the boardwalk and the ocean. And anyone who rents a house back there that has a dog, ole Pumpkin will wander down the driveway, following them. But he never leaves the safety of the driveway. This night, however, is different. I still don't completely understand why Pumpkin did what he did, but that night he didn't stay in the safety of the driveway. He follows this young lady and her canine all the way down the other side of the street, till they reach the half street known as Saint Alban's. Dad turns his neck to get a good look at the cat, as he vanishes around the corner to the boardwalk, still behind the canine. "Hey Dad, what's he up to?" I say urgently. "I don't know, son" Dad replies, shaking his head. "Well, anyway, did you see that Don Knotts comedy routine where he's playing a baseball announcer, but he keeps screwing up his words?" I ask. Dad shakes his head. "No, I haven't, but tell me about it. Is it good?" Dad asks. "Oh, for sure" I answer, then proceed to insert some of Don's better quotes from the act into our conversation. "Good afternoon, gadies and ladiemen. Uh, ladies and gentlemen. This is your old fiend, uh friend Phil Brusaclane, bringing you a prescription, uh description, of today's pain. Uh, flame! Uh, game! Here comes Dougie Hoser coming out of the cumquat, uh, I mean dugout. Who do we out in the see field? Uh, who we do see in the outfield? Why, none other than that Mighty Macky Middle! Uh, Mighty Mickey Mouse!" I say. Dad rocks back and forth in his chair, he laughs so hard. Just then, we see the young woman come back around at St. Alban's with her canine. But Pumpkin is nowhere in sight. "Dad, where's the cat?" I say urgently. Dad sits up a little, quickly becoming concerned. "I don't know" he answers. Just then, I spot him. Sitting in the mouth of St. Alban's. Right next to the freaking traffic. I cringe as an older Peterbilt gas tanker goes screaming by with the truck horn bellowing out into the night. Before I even realize what's happening, Dad is up and dashing out into the street. I watch fearfully as Dad pets the cat, and starts walking alongside the cat back to the driveway. I continue to watch as Dad walks all the way up the driveway to the light blue house all the way back on the left. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Dad comes back up onto the porch. "Great save" I remark. "Thanks" Dad says as he takes a seat. "Hey Matt, do me a favor, huh? Go and get my binoculars from my closet, please" he goes on. As I go to get him his binoculars, he flips open a newspaper and starts reading about how the serial killer who has been terrorizing Northen California for years now (The Zodiac Killer), has mysteriously vanished. But when I return with the binoculars, I see a sight that nearly stops my heart. Pumpkin is halfway out into the street. There is five or six cars coming from the other direction. This time, it is my turn to be a hero. I run out in front of the first car, carelessly putting aside my own safety. I feel that my feet don't touch anything between the planks on the edge of our deck before I land heavily on the front lawn during take off; and I still don't stop until I reach the driveway on the other side of the street. I look back, and then my heart catches in my throat when I see that the first car was a 1976 Pontiac Lemans police cruiser. The officer flips on the sirens and pulls over to the curb. He is very gentle, though, just happy to see no one is hurt. "Is that cat yours, son?" the officer asks. "No, sir" I say, and I shake my head. "Is he homeless?" the officer goes on. "We don't really know. He's always hanging out in this driveway, though" I answer. The officer nods. "Just make sure he'll be safe for the night before you leave him". "Oh, of course, sir" I reassure the officer. The next morning, Dad plans to go to the beach. But before we leave, he sees a beige and wood grain 1972 Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser backing out of the light blue house. Once again throwing his life into the hands of the car traffic on 17th street, he dashes across the street to ask the young couple driving the wagon if the cat is indeed theirs. Dad finds out that the couple's names are Sandra and William Stienfield, and they live in Ocean City all year round. Pumpkin is indeed theirs, but he is a bit more of an outdoor cat, as we have been seeing all summer long. So, there it is. He really does have a couple of loving owners. We don't have to worry about adopting him after all. But as reassuring as that feels, it also stings like a punch to the face. Long before I'm born, mom and dad adopt a black cat with the name of Canuck that lives with a kind old cat lady, Diane Cherry, down the street from them. Through this ordeal, I was slowly beginning to think we had a Canuck 2.0 on our hands. But sadly, it was not to be. The world didn't want it that way.
0 Comments
|
Matt McShane
I will use this work to explore the written word. Archives
December 2018
Categories
|