Caesar And DiMaggio

A short story from my writing workshop this week

Until my arrival, Joey had been the baby of the family. But with five older siblings, one extra infant didn’t change the way everyone looked at Joey. It was perhaps only Joey who had felt a difference.

Dave was the one who liked to torment Joey the most. Stories of dead bodies in the attic, of rabid dogs in the field, they always came from Dave. And Joey was still young enough to believe them. Or maybe he was just a little stupid.

So it should come as no surprise that one Sunday Morning Dave told Joey he wasn’t actually part of the family. He’d been bought from gypsies. Nor should it be a surprise that Joey believed him. It’s true that Joey was the only one of the Collins kids to have blonde hair but I’m fairly certain there weren’t any bands of gypsies roving through the middle of Kansas. Indians maybe, but no gypsies.

Joey, however, was convinced. After mass that morning, Joey went into confession and told Father Flanagan he was a gypsy. The priest ordered him to do five Hail Mary’s. I find it hard to believe Joey was going to confession before he’d even been confirmed but I believe him about the Hail Mary’s. The Catholic Church doesn’t treat well with gypsies.

After that, no one saw Joey for a few hours.

When there’s six of your progeny to keep track of (Simon had already fled for college in Chicago) it’s not entirely outside the realm of possibility that we could be almost home before my parents noticed one of us was missing. We drove back to the church immediately but Joey was already gone. No one had seen him and my mom started to panic. Dad joked it wouldn’t be so bad to have one less mouth to feed. Dave was the only one to laugh.

The police had already been called when the fire truck pulled into the driveway. With great envy, we saw Joey sitting on top with Fireman Steve and DiMaggio the Dalmatian. The firemen had found Joey on his way out of town (his words; the fire station was barely a block from St. Matthews) and grabbed him up before he could truly begin his search for his gypsy parents.

Mom would forever after use this as the example for why my younger sister and I had to memorize our addresses. The firemen forced a confession and a street name and number from Joey and drove him home, Caesar riding atop his chariot as he crossed over the Rubicon.

Lies have consequences. Dave’s deception did not sit well with Mom. He was the one to lose his TV privileges, while Joey got nothing more than a lecture and lots of assurances he hadn’t been bought. “We couldn’t put a price tag on you.”

“Dave said I cost one dollar.”

The irony of the whole story is that I have it on good authority from my sister Jane that Dave was the one who’d been bought from gypsies. That’s why he’s always had a little bit of the devil in him.

Check out Decater's new novel, available now at Amazon. Plus, don't forget his earlier books: Ahab's Adventures in Wonderland and Picasso Painted Dinosaurs.