From the Opening · “A Prayer for Home”
The First Pages
Show me the way to go home
I’m tired and I want to go to bed
I had a little drink about an hour ago
And it’s gone right to my head
Everywhere I roam
Over land or sea or foam
You can always hear me singing this song
Show me the way to go home.
Aunt Helena and Aunt Bianca opened the front door, the brisk air of October following them. Both held bags from Filene’s Basement in downtown Boston, a favorite for those in search of bargains. They were laughing about something.
“What’s so funny?” Nonna asked.
“We just saw Mrs. Muldoon,” Aunt Helena said. “Poor thing was drunk as a skunk. She was walking the street aimlessly. Said she was looking for her husband Jim. We had to lead her home and get her settled.” She hung their coats in the closet. “Then she told us that the Happy Garden Chinese Restaurant was sending pork-fried rice and egg rolls to her house every night. She swears she never ordered the food.”
“She must be having blackouts and forgetting that she ordered. Or she’s imagining that they’re delivering the food. Mary has squash rot,” Nonna said.
“What’s ‘squash rot’?” I asked.
“Means your brain is rotted from too much alcohol, Molly,” Helena said. “When she drinks, Mary gets delusional and hallucinates.”
Helena and Bianca plopped into cushy green chairs, placing their bags beside them. Aunt Bianca assumed her usual disposition, staring into space, frowning and saying nothing. Her red hair was a mess and her lipstick smeared. She looked like Bozo the clown.
“What happened to Mrs. Muldoon’s husband?” I asked.
Nonna said, “Before you were born, Mr. Muldoon died from a massive heart attack. Poor Mary was fixing dinner in the kitchen. When she called him to the table, he didn’t answer. She went into the living room, where he would listen to the radio and read the paper, and found him slumped over, the paper scattered at his feet. She hasn’t been the same since. Just drinks away her sorrows.”
“Oh,” I answered. I couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to find someone dead, especially a husband or a family member.