For One More Day Read Online Free PDF Page A

door the way she used to when I threw tennis balls off the roof of our house. Something melted inside of me, as if her face gave off heat. It went down my back. It went to my ankles. And then something broke, I almost heard the snap, the barrier between belief and disbelief.
    I gave in.
    Off he planet.
    "Charley? " she said. "What's wrong? "
    I did what you would have done.

    I hugged my mother as if I'd never let her go.
    Times My Mother Stood Up for Me
    I am eight years old. I have a homework assignment. I must recite to the class: "What Causes an Echo?"
    At the liquor store after school, I ask my father.
    What causes an echo? He is bent over in the aisle, checking inventory with a clipboard and a pencil.
    "I don't know, Chick, It's like a ricochet. " "Doesn't it happen in mountains?" "Mmm?" he says, counting bottles. "Weren't you in mountains in the war?"
    He shoots me a look, "What're you asking about that for?" He returns to his clipboard.
    That night, I ask my mother. What causes an echo? She gets the dictionary, and we sit in the den.
    "Let him do it himself, " my father snaps. "Len, "she says, "I'm allowed to help him. "
    For an hour, she works with me. I memorize the lines. I practice by standing in front of her.
    "What causes an echo?" she begins.
    “The persistence of sound after the source has stopped.” I say. "What is one thing required for an echo?"
    "The sound must bounce off something. " "When can you hear an echo?"
    "When it's quiet and other sounds are absorbed. "
    She smiles. "Good. " Then she says, "Echo, " and covers her mouth and mumbles, "Echo, echo, echo. "
    My sister, who has been watching our performance, points and yells,
    'That's Mommy talking! I see her!"
    My father turns on the TV set.
    "What a colossal waste of time, " he says.
    The Melody Changes
    Do YOU REMEMBER THAT SONG, "This Could Be the Start of Something Big? " It was a fast, upbeat tune, usually sung by a guy in a tuxedo in front ofa big band. It went like this:

    You're walkin' along the street, or you're at a party, Or else you're alone and then you suddenly dig, You're loofon' in someone's eyes, you suddenly realize That this could be the start of something big.
    My mother loved that song. Don't ask me why. They played it at the start of The Steve Allen Show back in the 50s, which I recall as a black-and-white program, although everything seemed to be in black and white in those days. Anyhow, my mother thought that song was "a swinger," that's what she called it–"Oooh, that one's a smngerl"–and whenever it came on the radio, she snapped her fingers like she was leading the band. We had a hi-fi, and one year for her birthday she got an album by Bobby Darin. He sang that tune, and she played the record after dinner as she cleaned the dishes. This was when my dad was still in the picture. He'd be reading his newspaper and she would walk over to him and drum on his shoulders, singing "this could be the start of something big," and, of course, he wouldn't even look up. Then she'd come over to me and make like she was playing drumsticks on my chest as she sang along.
    You're dining at Twenty-One and watching your diet, Declining a charlotte rousse, accepting a fig, Then out of the clear blue sky, it's suddenly gal and guy, And this could be the start of something big.
    I wanted to laugh–especially when she said "fig"–but since my father wasn't participating, laughter felt like a betrayal. Then my mother started tickling me and I couldn't help it.
    "This could be the start of something big," she'd say, "big boy, big boy, big boy big boy big boy."
    She used to play that music every night. But once my father left, she never did again. The Bobby Darin album stayed on the shelf. The record player collected dust. At first I thought she had changed her taste in music, the way we did as
    kids, at one point thinking Johnnie Ray was a good singer, but eventually thinking Gene Vincent was so much better. Later, I figured she didn't want to