OCR Text |
Show Oh Say Can You See? 33 "I'm sorry." "You'll have to sleep out there tonight, Irene. Maybe you'll learn to listen." "Please, Mother, not at the dam. I ' l l be good. I'll listen. I won't go away without t e l l i ng you ever again." "Just climb up the ladder, honey," said Uncle Jack. "Nothing to worry about." "Please no," I said as I climbed the ladder, up, up, high above the scenic viewpoint where tourists said "ooh" and "aahhh." The wind blew, the cables rose and f e l l and twirled jump rope. I wore my blue furry Donald Duck slippers and my rosie chenille bathrobe, and I put one and then another foot ahead, in front. For a minute I walked on the wind and wasn't afraid. Then I got to that creaking bed, leaning downside at every shift in weight. "Rock-a-bye baby," Mama sang. "Hush-a-bye." Uncle Jack accompanied her on his trumpet. The bed started to s l i p . The bedsprings scraped over the cables, fingernails on a blackboard, slipping one by one. "Mama," I screamed. Mama leaned as far out over the edge as she could while Uncle Jack held her knees. We stretched for each other. Like long, rubbery, airless balloons we stretched and stretched, arching, reaching, trying to connect. "Hold me, Mama." |