50 . Estanque de Patos

“No! No! Stop that! Stop that!” Becky cried, running after Pablo as he chased two mottled mallards into the water.

“Patos! Patos!” he cried, running toward the shore, arms up, as duck fled in terror before him.

“Good God! Parada!” Beck cried, grabbing him by the arm just before he ran straight into the murky depths.  

We had been at the Duck Pond for the last forty-five minutes and I was convinced more than ever that I did not ever want children. It was not that Pablo was bad, but he was a four year old boy: there was no reason to him. He ran, he screamed, he chased ducks like the best bird dog. He made monster faces at the other children he ran up to, he picked up some lady’s Shih Tzu and tried to make off with it. He peed off the dock until Becky saw him and started screaming, and then he just ran off and screamed some more, like a miniature Caliban. And Poor Becky looked frazzled, running this way and that, covered in sweat, but looking happier than I had ever seen her. 

“Parada Pablo! Parada!” she screamed like a extra from West Side Story. “Venir! Ahora!”

To cool ourselves, we sat on a shaded park bench as Pablo stood on the bank of the pond throwing twigs at the passing Canadian Geese. I told Becky the whole story of Mom and the Secret Garden Crack Whore, and Becky laughed uproariously. Pablo ran up to us, tumbling over to crumple into Becky’s lap. He quietly whispered something into Becky’s face in his Spanglish, and her eyes went wide and she looked over to me in mock surprise.

“He wants to know if you like him?” she said with a big smile.

“Yes,” I said trying not to grit my teeth, “Of course I do. He’s a charming young man.” 

She whispered something back to Pablo and he looked up at me with a big winning smile. He was a cute kid; I just didn’t have much use for children. 

“Go look at with patos,” She said, “but No tirar. No tirar.  Okay?”

“Okay,” he said and ran back to the water’s edge to sit and watch the passing ducks.

“He loves the Duck Pond,” Becky said.

“Oh, yeah, I can tell.” I was bored and hot and wanted a coke and some air conditioning. “He seems like a really good kid.” I lied.

“Oh, he is. He’s so good now. All I had to do was learn how to talk to him. And he is so smart. He’s already picking up English like you can’t believe. He’s just so smart.”

“Uh huh.” I watched Pablo stick a twig in his ear then pull it back in surprise, waving his arms to dispense the pain.

“Cuidado,” she hollered.

I made myself not chuckle, looking out over the water. The Duck Pond was just to the east of campus, in fact just spitting distance from Thad and Bettina’s Queen Acres. The park had originally been the first 9-hole golf course for the University, so it was laid out in wide swaths of hills and flat greens, with a large winding pond in the middle. It was closest Norman had to a Central Park; a bit of the wild right in the middle of town. Today was a sunny June day, about eighty degrees, and pleasant with the wind off of the pond. I had asked Thad to come, but he had said, “Sorry, busy,” which he had told me more often than not lately. I wondered if he was busy with Spandex Hair Mane.  

“So the other night Mom said you talked to Ray,” I said, fanning myself.

“I told her not to tell you!” she huffed. “Yes.”

“You knew she would tell me. “

“I guess…well, that means Smith knows…” She sighed.

“And their cleaning lady…” I added.

“And the Greengrocer…”

“And the gas station attendant who fills up her car….” I chuckled.

“Can you believe there’s still a place in town that does that? It’s, like, so 50’s.” Becky wiped her brow.
          “I know,” I added. “But if there’s any full-service place in town, you know Mom knows about it.”

We laughed and then went silent, watching Pablo crawl around the ground pretending to be a dog.

“So?” I said.

“So, what?” she said meekly.

“So you called him? What happened? I mean, hasn’t it been months? What did he say?”

Becky sighed and looked away. “I just….I don’t know. I didn’t mean to call him. I just did. And he happened to answer. He was real friendly. We hadn’t spoken in seven months, I mean we texted and all, but it was nice to hear his voice. He’s still works for the Cable company, still living with that no-good friend Dwayne of his, up in Edmond. He said he’s good, his family is good. He said he misses me.”

I audibly sighed, knowing where this was headed: Becky back to Ray and back to sadness.

“I know, I know,” she said with shame in her voice. “But I just keep hoping that things will work out and that we can get back together and be a family again, you know?”

I did know, as I had done the same with Thad for so many on and off years. But whereas I always knew Thad would put the bottle down as come around, I did not have the same confidence in The Looser Ray.

“Did you tell him about…” and I pointed a Pablo, who was now throwing rocks at the ducks.

“Parar!!” Becky bellowed, and Pablo jumped at least six inches off the ground and ran to hide behind a tree. “Yeah, yeah I did.”

“Did he sound-I mean, what’d he say?”

“Well, he didn’t really seem that happy about it. I mean, he kinda laughed and said I was stupid for doing it, because of all the expense. But then I told him I got a monthly check from the government, and then he said he kinda thought it was a good idea. He even suggested I get a whole herd of them, to pay all the bills. That what he said ‘a whole herd.’”

She laughed but I did not. 

“It just was weird,” she continued. “I really thought he would want to come down and meet Pablo, but he didn’t say that.” 

She went silent and we both watched Pablo continue to throw rocks at the ducks.  

I knew Ray was a terrible person, but Becky did not. My impression was that Ray had even less use for children than I did, but I don’t think Becky ever realized that, being so baby-focused herself. So I never understood how she thought bringing in a four-year old Mexican would in any way entice Ray into coming back to her. But she did, or had least had, as now it seemed like maybe she was realizing the error in her judgment.  

“So, are you going see him?” I asked to break the silence.  

“Maybe. I don’t know. I bet he’s been seeing someone. That may be why he left me. He didn’t say, but I think he’s single again as he said he’d had a lot of time on his hands lately. And he wouldn’t mind seeing me…”

“Uh, huh.” It was all so rough, so common; I felt for her and all the crap I ever had to go through with Thad.

“So we talked about meeting up in Bricktown for dinner-and I didn’t tell Mom this part-but we talked about meeting up in Bricktown for dinner at Mickey Mantle’s Steak House, and we talked about it and all, but when I mentioned how excited Pablo would be to meet him, and Ray told me to leave Pablo at home, I mean with Mom, and just come up alone.”

“Yeah.” Jesus.

“But he didn’t say it nice, like he wanted alone time with me. He just said it like he didn’t want Pablo to come at all, like he didn’t even want to meet him.” She sniffed and then wiped her eyes. “And I just didn’t understand, I mean, I thought he would be so happy to meet him, you know, but he wasn’t. And he asked me if I had him permanently…and if I could give him back…”

“And what did you say?” I said as clinically as possible.

“Yes. I mean, I just want a man in my life. I don’t have Dad, I should at least get Ray…”

We were silent.

“Are you going to meet him?”
“Yeah. Mom’s going to watch Pablo next Saturday. But she doesn’t know that’s

where I’m going , so don’t tell her. I just don’t know how to talk to her about it, you know…” and Becky wiped her eyes a bit more and leaned her head to my shoulder.

          My heart felt for her; the Sophie’s Choice of her new precious son or the lunk of a delinquent husband. . 

          Pablo ran over and put his hand in hers and looked up in her face and whispered something imploringly to her in Spanish. She pulled away from me to wipe her eyes and whispered something back to him back and they hugged tightly. When they released there were little tears in his brown eyes too.

          “Well, this is just silly!” Becky said standing. “We’re supposed to be having  fun, and look at me being so silly.” And then to Pablo, “Do you like patos? Do you want to see more patos?”

          “Patos! Patos!” he sang, and they took each other’s hands and began to walk back down to the water, she humming loudly.

         

At that moment I hoped to God she made the right choice. I also realized the necessity of me writing to Dad, if not for me, than for Becky.