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015 - Small beer [mid-20th century drama]

Warning: very long story ahead.

It all started with a knock on the door. Of course it was Big Peter from the back street; he had the magical ability to show up pretty well only when Mama was out. He also got away with nearly everything. So that day when he showed up at the door with two goats, I honestly wasn't surprised.

No one was really sure how Peter got his hands on half the things he brought home but, owing to his nature and the shortage of space at his own house, he often ended up giving things away. But with Peter you could never tell if he had really given you something or just lent it to you, so you could never really be sure what to do with the stuff.

"Dessy," he sniffed, rubbing his nose along his arm, "you want some goats?"

I raised my eyebrows, "you don't want them?"

"No space," he answered. "You want them? It's small beer to me."

Without really giving it much thought I agreed to take them... after all, they were nice looking goats. I guessed one was a boy and the other a girl. Mama wouldn't be too happy but her tune would change once we started to get milk.

Peter helped rig up the goats in the backyard and, like magic, was gone moments before Mama got home. I hurried to the family room with my brother Tom's banjo and began strumming away in a failed attempt to appear innocent.

When Mama got home there was a great flurry of activity in the kitchen and then suddenly it stopped and I felt a weight in the pit of my stomach.

"Dessy!" she called.

I swallowed hard; it was going to be difficult to sell this thing. With the banjo slung on my back, I went to face the music.

"Dessy, why are d'ere goats in the backyard?" she asked, her Belfast accent on full display. Mama was always self-conscious of get accent and so, when it came out, she meant business.

"Well, you know," I started, trailing off.

"No Dessy, I dun't."

I figgited uneasily and Mama drew a big spoon from a drawer, all while never breaking eye contact.

"Mama, they are Peter's! He wanted me to watch them for a few days."

"And yeh though to nevermind your mother, then?"

I had nothing in my mouth but I swallowed hard again all the same. "I knew you would say no, but I thought--"

Mama smashed her spoon on the kitchen counter breaking it and causing half of it to go flying across the room.

"Oh, you thought! You thought, did yeh? It doesn't seem so to me that yeh did. What did yeh think then, tell me?"

My heart was racing as I stared at my feet, bundled up in my darned socks repaired by my Mama's loving hands.

"I th-thought you might ch-change your mind if we could g-get milk and cheese. I'm sorry Mama."

Mama frowned and placed her hands on her hips. "Oh Dessy, come here."

I made my way in front of her and she placed her warm hands on my shoulders. "I know your Da told yeh and yer brothers to look after me, but I am fine." She stooped over and kissed my forehead.

"Yer Da and I came over 'ere with not more than a few potatoes but we worked hard and we bought this house and I'm not about to start raising farm animals in my backyard now."

"Now I love yeh Dessy, but I want them goats gone; we aren't keepin' that Peter boys animals for him." She stopped and looked up, as if at the neighborhood. "The McCloskey's are not going to be that family with the goats."