My Most Excellent Year
AugieHwong: Yeah, Pop knew what he was doing. Did Tick tell you about the star his mom named “Anthony”?
AlePerez: The one over Plum Island or the one over Maine?
AugieHwong: Hold it. I never knew there was a second one in Maine! Double-crossed again! First Andy, now this. Excuse me while I go shoot myself.
AlePerez: What happened with Andy?
AugieHwong: Gender confusion issues. He didn’t exactly appreciate my Yvonne DeCarlo. That’s all I’m saying. I wish I lived in a movie like Meet Me in St. Louis. He’d show up at the Christmas dance in his tux, tell me how sorry he was, and we’d get a duet that Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald would sing together at the Oscars.
Anthony was born on February 16, 1989, and even though his mother had been hoping it would happen two days earlier, she still called him “my Valentine baby” for the rest of her life. She helped him figure out Santa Claus’s secret identity (he was really Mr. Zentz at the drugstore), she taught him how to find lost purple balloons (“Watch the sky and remember how much you love it, and it’ll come back to you”), and he even got a letter in the mailbox from the Tooth Fairy, thanking him for the cookie he’d left with his molar.
Then, when he was four, his goldfish Cleo died, and he cried for two nights in a row—not because of Cleo, but because he was afraid that one day his mother was going to die too. So she sat up with him until he finally fell asleep, holding his hand and repeating over and over, “I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll be here as long as you need me.” That was a month before she found the lump in her breast.
Anthony knew his mother was sick, but when you’re that young there’s no real difference between chicken pox and cancer. Just before she started chemotherapy, she was teaching him how to ride a bicycle by himself. First she’d walk along the sidewalk with him—holding the handlebars so he wouldn’t wobble—and once he’d gotten the hang of it, she’d let go. But somehow he always managed to topple over into the grass. So when he raced into her hospital room three weeks later and jumped onto her bed, the front-page headline was, “Mama! I made it to the end of the street without falling off once!” Nikki immediately broke into a huge smile and wrapped her arms around him tightly.
“Now, that’s good news,” she said, kissing the top of his head. “Do you know how proud I am?” And that was the last time he ever saw her. She died the following morning, and all Anthony could remember was “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”
“I was only six,” he mumbled quietly, finishing off his french fries, “so I thought that since I’d told her I could ride a bicycle by myself, maybe she didn’t think I needed her anymore. That’s why I always figured it was my fault. I should have kept my mouth shut.”
There was nothing for me to say. Even if I’d been able to.
INSTANT MESSENGER
AlePerez: Augie, please tell me he didn’t put himself through all of that.
AugieHwong: Yeah, he did. He never told anybody but me, and I couldn’t talk him out of it. I so should have tipped off Pop. And he wouldn’t ride a bike again until we were ten.
During the walk home, Anthony was back to making plans for our baseball diamond, but I didn’t hear very much of it. No wonder he’s tracking down Mary Poppins for a six-year-old boy. I could never have survived losing my mother. How can there still be room in his heart for Buck Weaver and Manzanar and Hucky and Augie and me too??
Jacqueline, whether or not I ever give the American people majesty, I’m going to fall in love with Anthony Keller anyway. As soon as he learns that all I want him to be is Anthony. Without the ploys and gimmicks.
Why is it so hard to keep them real?
Fondly,
Alejandra
Dear Hucky:
I recently heard about you on England’s side of the Atlantic Ocean. Is it true that you can finger-spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious and you’re only six? Even I can’t do that. You must have had a very special teacher.
Popping in and out of chalk pavement pictures takes a lot of practice, so be patient. You may not be able to master it until you’re at least ten. (One trick I learned is to begin by closing your eyes and imagining candy apples and steam calliopes. That always helps.)
Please promise me that you’ll continue to do well in school, because the penguins won’t let just anyone dance with them. Bert had to have good grades first, and they’ll expect the same from Hucky Harper.
Hugs to you.
My loveliest of wishes,
Julie Andrews
www.augiehwong.com
PRIVATE CHAT
AugieHwong: No wonder she won an Academy Award. She really is Mary Poppins. Okay, maybe she’s making all of it up, but the calliope part sounds pretty real to me. I may even try it to see what happens.
TCKeller: But she signed it “Julie Andrews”! Hucky never heard of Julie Andrews. Didn’t we tell her he thinks she’s a real nanny?
AlePerez: I thought it was understood.
AugieHwong: Only to us.
TCKeller: This isn’t going to do any good. We can’t let him find out it’s just a part in a movie.
AlePerez: At least we can save it for him until he gets older. It’s a lovely letter.
AugieHwong: Yeah, but what about now?
TCKeller: Look, it’s not like Mary Poppins is the only one who can have tea parties on the ceiling, you know. Maybe it’s up to us to show him the same kinds of things ourselves. That’s all he needs. Like teaching him that frozen ponds are really secret entrances to the North Pole.
AugieHwong: Tick, if we’re going to be flying up any chimneys to dance on rooftops, please let me know ahead of time. Because I don’t want to be wearing my Versace slacks.
Dear Mama,
When I first had the Julie Andrews idea it was only because I knew it’s what you would have done if you were me and I was Hucky. Except that it wouldn’t have stopped with a letter. When I came home from school one day, she would have been sitting in our living room with you, drinking tea and eating cakes, and you would have said, “T.C., Mary Poppins came over to see you,” like it was the most normal thing in the world. After that, she would have walked me to Emerson Garden holding my hand, and when we got there she’d have sat on the bench with a smile on her face while I knelt on the sidewalk with my colored chalk and drew a picture of merry-go-rounds and penguins and talking horses. Once I was finished, she would have stood up and said, “All right, T.C. Spit-spot! Let’s get ready to take a trip.” Just like we were really going to hop inside of it. But at the last minute, she’d have stared down at the Ferris wheel and said, “Oh dear. There’s a thunderstorm coming just over the hill you drew. I’m terribly afraid that if we pop inside for a visit right now, we’ll be washed away with everything else.” Well, I wouldn’t have wanted that either, so I’d have let her take me to The Word Shop Café instead—without even knowing that she was secretly Julie Andrews, who didn’t really have special powers, because I’d always believe that Mary Poppins had saved my life by not letting me get erased in the rain. And while we were eating cookies at the café, all the other kids would be whispering, “Hey, look! That’s T.C. Keller with Mary Poppins!” Phyllis would have been impressed too, even though she’d know the truth. (“Anthony Keller, you march yourself over to Aisle 2 and pick out a thank-you card for Julie—for Mary Poppins.”) On the way home, we’d stop by a church so we could sit on the front steps and feed the birds bread crumbs (tuppence a bag), and then she’d come over to our house for dinner. You’d ask her how Bert and Uncle Albert were doing, and Pop would want to know how she could get any sleep with Admiral Boom shooting off that cannon next door. Finally it’d be bedtime and Mary Poppins would tuck me in and kiss me on the forehead. And just as I was nodding off, she’d whisper how much she loved me.
But I have all of the things you taught me on my side, so I can work a little Mary Poppins magic of my own. And I know just where I’m going to start.
I love you,
T.C.
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P.S. I figure I set myself back three months with Alé by pulling the “just friends” routine. Pop says it’s not his fault that nobody sent him the rule book upgrade. Meanwhile, I think I found a gray hair.
INSTANT MESSENGER
TCKeller: I’m going to get Pop to take us to Plum Island for the day. When it gets dark out, we’ll sit on the beach and name a star Hucky. I’ll bet Mary Poppins never did that.
AugieHwong: Which reminds me. I heard a rumor that there’s a star named Anthony in Maine too. How come I never knew that, big brother?
TCKeller: Because I only remembered it in November, you hoser head! There was this lighthouse near the shore, and the guy who worked there took us up to the top at night. Mama didn’t want to waste the view so she let me pick out the brightest star in the sky sort of as a backup to the first one. I think it was Venus.
AugieHwong: How could you forget something like that, you gink?? Whole movies have been written about less.
Tick, have you ever been ashamed of me?
TCKeller: I’ll kick his ass.
AugieHwong: Whose??
TCKeller: Andy’s. Is that what he said to you???
AugieHwong: No. I mean, not exactly. But wouldn’t I be less of a freak if I acted like a normal guy once in a while?
TCKeller: And turn into somebody your own brother wouldn’t even recognize??? I swear to God I’m going to kick his ass.
AugieHwong: You don’t have to. You just answered my question.
STUDENT/ADVISER CONFERENCE
Lori Mahoney/Anthony C. Keller
LORI:
Naming a star after a six-year-old can mean a lot to him. You should know.
T.C.:
Maybe. But not all by itself. Alé and Augie and I figured that if we can keep him busy with lots of different things like that, he might forget all about Mary Poppins.
LORI:
It’s easier than you think. What’s the most magical thing in your life?
T.C.:
Well, this week it’s lying in bed at night with my Discman and listening to “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes.”
LORI:
But you get the picture. Natural wonders come in so many different disguises. Like watching the tide at sunset, walking up Comm Ave when it’s snowing, seeing a baby smile for the first time—
T.C.:
Sneaking down to court-side seats at a C’s game.
LORI:
That is not a natural wonder. It’s a criminal act.
T.C.:
By the way, Pop’s going to invite you to Plum Island with us.
LORI:
I’m busy that day.
T.C.:
I didn’t even tell you when we were going!
LORI:
Are you inviting Alé?
T.C.:
I thought about it, but I haven’t decided yet. I’m still skating on thin ice with her from listening to Pop.
LORI:
Then I’ll think about it too. But I won’t decide yet.
T.C.:
Is this a bribe?
LORI:
You figure it out.
Dear Mama,
When Aunt Babe came up for the weekend and saw Hucky jamming on his keyboard, she invented a new holiday on the spot—Saint Sivithius Day—and bought him a present for it. It’s a big plastic electric guitar that’s the same kind of yellow as the keyboard is. Augie was the one who picked it out. He says the reason the Pet Shop Boys never made it to the A-list is because they weren’t color-coordinated.
Mr. Landey was right—deaf kids can rock to music as much as anybody else can. They just feel it differently. But as far as we know, the only thing Hucky ever listens to is Mary Poppins—which is why Alé and Nehi and I took him over to Augie’s for the afternoon with a handful of our CDs. I mean, there’s a whole world outside of “Jolly Holiday With Mary” that he didn’t even know about. Yet.
WHAT HE LOVES
Crosby, Stills & Nash
Christina Aguilera
Avi Vinocur
Body Politics
’N Sync
Kid Rock
Damn Yankees
WHAT HE HATES
Backstreet Boys
Destiny’s Child
Marc Anthony
Bob Dylan
Stephen Sondheim (at least we think so. He listened to 60 seconds of Sunday in the Park With George and then went outside to play in the mud with Nehi. Alé swears it was a value judgment.)
His hands-down favorite was Snoop Doggy, especially “Step Yo Game Up” (which turned Augie’s face the same color as third base by the sixth inning). Once Hucky had listened to “Doggy Dogg World” and “Ain’t No Fun if My Homies Can’t Have None,” we knew we were in a jet stream, so Augie halfheartedly raided Mom’s red-flagged “these-people-need-to-be-run-out-of-town” DVD collection and found the Undercova Funk Madison Square Garden concert. For the next hour and a half—while we all sprawled across the floor—Alé and I jammed on “Snoop Bounce,” Augie glowered in the corner, and it turned out to be the first video (except for you-know-what) that Hucky’s wanted to sit through twice in a row. Inside of ten minutes he’d begun swaying his shoulders and lip-synching the first five words of “Up Jump the Boogie” right along with “Snoopy Dog”—which is actually kind of scary when you realize he can’t hear any of it.
“Can I play a concert in Madison Garden too?” he begged while I put on his coat at the end of the day.
“When you’re nine,” I promised, zipping up the hood.
Before we took him back to the Children’s Residence, we all went over to Brookline Music together to buy him some CDs of his own: The Doggfather for Hucky, and Crosby, Stills & Nash for Mateo. (He figured they could trade them back and forth with each other, along with their rabbits’ feet, Gummi Bears, and Legos.) But I realized when we hit the sidewalk again that he didn’t know anything about the sixties, and my gut told me that he ought to learn at least some of the facts if he was going to understand why CS&N rocked.
“People wore beads around their necks and bands around their heads and ugly pants with bell bottoms,” I told him, holding his hand as we crossed the boulevard.
“Why?”
“To stop the war in Vietnam.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Pop didn’t explain that part.” By the time we’d gotten to Beals Street, two things had happened: (1) He was already losing patience with the whole concept of Woodstock (“Why wasn’t there anyplace for all of those people to pee??” “Don’t blame me! I wasn’t there!”), and (2) I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Alé was shivering, even though it was almost thirty degrees out and she was already bundled up like an Eskimo. So while Hucky and I were arguing about Porta Potties, I wrapped my arm around her to keep her warm, like it was something I was used to doing every day. And she didn’t even try to stop me—probably because I was still pretending to pay all of my attention to Hucky. Nehi saw the whole thing and barked in appreciation. “Smooth move, dude!” I even think Alé’s reconsidering the probation she put me on.
Kids and dogs are great props. Why didn’t Pop ever tell me that before??
I love you,
T.C.
P.S. Hucky still cries during the night, but not as much as he used to. Wait until he starts falling asleep with “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” tickling his temples through his Discman. Maybe the crying’ll even stop completely. Who needs Mary Poppins?
INSTANT MESSENGER
TCKeller: I just got off the phone with Aunt Ruth. She had a couple of minutes free in between busting chops, so she called Fred Hoyt and said, “This is Ruth Mellick from the House of Representatives. Is it true that we can look forward to a baseball diamond at Manzanar? What a splendid idea.” When she finally hung up, he was still saying things like “Er” and “Uh,” but nothing else. I hope they sell Kaopectate up there. He sounds like he needs it already. By the way, we just passed 600 hits on our website (in only 4 weeks!) and we’
ve got 71 names on our petition.
AlePerez: I’ve never met anyone who operates the way you do. I’m still not convinced that it’s appealing, but it’s definitely singular.
TCKeller: By the way, Pop’s taking us to Plum Island on Saturday. Lori said she’d come if you do too. So my father’s future is in your hands.
AlePerez: I need to think about it.
TCKeller: For real or am I still on suspension? No offense, but I don’t do anxiety well.
AlePerez: You don’t exactly do spon-taneous well either. Don’t think I didn’t notice the premeditated arm-around-the-shoulder thing while we were walking Hucky home.
TCKeller: You weren’t supposed to see that!
Dear Mama,
Kiss Me, Kate is on its way to Broadway. It has to be. They had a run-through of the first act on Saturday morning and I never saw anything like it in my life. I know I’m not a theatre critic like Mom is, but I recognize a Tommy Award Winner when it’s plopped down in front of me.
BEST SCENE #1: Lee Meyerhoff singing a song called “Tom, Dick, or Harry” when she’s trying to choose between three guys. Two of them are played by Augie and Andy, who get to have a fake fistfight onstage. But from where we were sitting, it didn’t look like Augie was faking any of it.
BEST SCENE #2: Lee getting pissed of at Bill (Augie) for always gambling, so she sings “Why Can’t You Behave?” to him. Funny, I’ve been asking him that same question since we were six.
BEST SCENE #3: Alé reminiscing with Keith about when they used to be married, but turning in the other direction so she wouldn’t smell him any more than she had to.
AWARDS: Augie for Best New Star (like this is a surprise?)
Lee for Putting Up With Augie (Medal of Honor maybe?)
Alé for People Magazine’s Sexiest Woman Alive (at least)