A Mother's Brother
Sparkle Ditch - #19
A few times here I’ve reached rather far back to visit some of my earliest stories. This one, “Pedderson’s Uncle,” just came quickly to mind, and I thought for sure I must’ve discussed it with you before. Guess not.
I recall this one being in a group of five or so stories that had accumulated to what felt like a significant gathering of work. I put “Pedderson’s Uncle” together during a collegiate writing program (no, I don’t have an MFA), and it was part of a final submission that required presenting.
This couldn’t be a more fictitious story, at least in terms of my own life—any persons living or dead…coincidence…etc.—yet reading it before a large crowd of people I was surprised when I got choked up speaking the last line.
I’m still not sure what brought it on (*call therapist*), but the emotional performance led many to assume that the story was based on something personal. I remember thinking, ooh that’s interesting, what a cool trick.
“Pedderson’s Uncle” was first published by Sakura Review—but that was a long time ago. So let’s bring these people back to life once more, wanna?
Thanks very much, love you,
xo—JO
PEDDERSON’S UNCLE
Pedderson’s uncle was an odd man but we liked going over to his house. His name was Myron Osgood and he was most often sitting at his table, dunking chocolate bars into a mug of tequila and reading a newspaper, sometimes talking to it. Pedderson’s mother didn’t care much for her only sibling, or for us going to his house. She was never too hard on us though and I think she liked the quiet time with us not around. Pedderson’s dad had died in Korea. Myron Osgood had also been in Korea. We figured that Pedderson’s mom would rather it have been her husband that came back alive.
I wasn’t technically a family member, but Pedderson and I’d been best friends since we were little. My mother was by herself and had no job. She got her money from the drunk driver that jumped the curb and ran over and killed my dad as he was mowing the next door neighbor’s lawn. The next door neighbors had been in Hawaii and my mom said it should’ve been Mr. Houseman that was hit by the car. The Houseman’s were lying on a beach in Oahu when my dad was squished to ground meat between an Oldsmobile and a Sears push-mower. My mom was different after that. She had no interest in anything but TV.
Pedderson and I were the same age and both without dads. That’s another reason we liked to go to his uncle’s house. We could ask him about stuff we didn’t want to ask our moms about and he’d tell it to us straight. He probably said things that weren’t true, but we listened anyway. Penny, Pedderson’s mother, was nothing like my mother. Penny was fun and she laughed and made jokes. She was very nice to us and would fix snacks whenever we wanted. We used to play a lot of pranks on Penny and if she ever did catch us the punishment was light. Pedderson would do the dishes and I would dry them and put them away. Stuff like that.
One time I pulled a job on Penny without Pedderson knowing. Late one afternoon we’d been at Uncle Myron’s house where he had let us both dip chocolate bars into his tequila. When we got home Penny smelled the booze on us and said we were forbidden to ever go back to Myron’s house. Pedderson didn’t seem too upset. I guess he thought she’d get over it in a few days and he could soon go back to his uncle’s. But I was mad. She wasn’t my mom and had no right to tell me what to do. Penny was upstairs. Pedderson was in the bathroom. I took his mother’s car keys and dumped them into my backpack. We watched TV for a while and then Penny made us nachos. We told her we were sorry for what we’d done and she said it was alright then gave us each a big hug. I said goodbye and went home.
Pedderson and I always walked to school together. The next morning he wasn’t on the corner waiting for me like usual. I stood there a few minutes then thought I’d better get going or I was going to be late. When I got to our classroom Pedderson wasn’t there. I stared at his empty desk wondering where he could be. I opened my backpack to get my notebook and I saw Penny’s car keys sitting at the bottom. I forgot I’d put them there. Stolen them. She probably needs her car keys to drive to work, I thought. She is probably yelling at Pedderson right now and making him turn the house upside down to help her find the missing keys. Our teacher never believed anything we kids said but I considered telling her the truth to see if she’d let me leave. Instead, I told her that I felt like throwing up and I needed to go see the nurse. She wrinkled up her mouth and said she didn’t believe me. I squeezed my stomach and asked if she’d rather I throw up on her floor. She sent me to the nurse’s office and didn’t ask why I was taking my backpack with me. I left school and walked straight to Pedderson’s house where of course Penny’s car was in the driveway. The front door was unlocked and I figured her house keys were in my backpack too. There was nobody there so I walked to Uncle Myron’s.
I had never seen his car move before, but Myron’s car was not in the driveway. I knocked on the front door and Uncle Myron opened it, wearing a pink bathrobe and holding a mug in his hand. He said good morning son and I asked him if Pedderson was inside. He told me no and said wasn’t this quite the day we were having. I asked him what he meant and he said that Pedderson and his mother had come over in a fuss, needing to borrow the car. Myron invited me inside and inside I went. He offered me coffee and I said that I didn’t drink coffee but what I did want was to know what had happened this morning. I sat on the couch and Myron came and sat next to me. He hitched up his robe to his knees and I saw that it wasn’t coffee he had in his mug. He told me that Penny had rushed over to his house yelling that she needed his car so she could get Pedderson to school and herself to work. They were both running very late. I asked him if everything worked out OK. He said he gave them the car and off they went. That was all he knew. I told Uncle Myron I felt sick and that I had a confession to make. I unzipped my backpack and held up the keys. I told him that I had taken Penny’s keys yesterday as a joke but then forgot about it until this morning. He stared at me with wide eyes and frowned. Then he jumped up and let out a big rolling laugh. His hairy chest peeked through the long V in his robe and he lifted the mug to his chapped lips. His laughter echoed inside the mug and I could hear him drinking between breaths. I felt so guilty about the problems I’d caused that I began to cry. Myron stopped his laughing and sat down again beside me. He put his arm around me and told me to have a drink from his mug. I took it in my hands with a sob and he smiled at me and nudged the mug with his hand from its bottom up to my mouth. As the drink was pushed to my face I didn’t like the smell but I closed my eyes and took a gulp. I felt even more guilt but Myron looked satisfied. He told me he wanted to show me something and pulled me up by my arm and escorted me into his den.
Uncle Myron set me in a big leather chair then disappeared briefly. He returned with two mugs, set them on a table next to the chair, then went to a bookshelf. I had never been in this room before and as I looked around I saw lots of photos in frames and books everywhere and vases with fresh flowers in them all around. In a picture frame next to the mugs I saw two men. One of them was obviously a young Myron and he had his arm around the other man. They were both smiling and were both wearing military outfits.
“Is this you in Korea?”
“It certainly is.”
He said the other man in the photo was Pedderson’s dad.
“That photo was taken just a few days before he was killed. He was my best friend.”
He said that they had been so close that Pedderson’s mom hated him for it. He said that’s what he wanted to show me as he sat down on the arm of the chair close to me and opened a battered photo album. He went through dozens of pictures of him and Pedderson’s dad and told me that he’d never loved a man more.
“I’ve never known a man more strong and handsome.”
“What happened to him?”
“He was shot in the head.”
He said that when Pedderson’s dad was brought back to their camp in a helicopter, he didn’t even recognize him when he saw him. He was dead when they brought him in.
“Seeing a man so beautiful blown open made me want to kill myself.”
“My father was killed, too.”
Not by a gun in Korea I told him, but by a man in a car on his way home from a tavern at three o’clock in the afternoon.
“I know, son. I bet you loved your dad.”