When Godfrey was just a little boy the only thing worse for him than school and beets or the breath of his Uncle Lou was Sunday afternoon.
…For Ma would rummage about in her room and instead of sweets would come out with her cod liver oil spoon.Sister Alice took her dose with a slurp and a big smirk at Godfrey.Godfrey had by then already scooted out the back door, He took to the trees, he hid in the leaves,He was yanked down and zipped in a sleeping bag.His dad was laughing his Ma was not she grimly rolled up her sleeves.
Godfrey burrowed to the foot of the bag she shook it upside down,Godfrey bolted deep into the rhubarb soon as he hit the ground,With Alice and Albion holding out beets and his mother with the spoon and a net, they cornered him where the peas climbed the fence as far back as he could get.
Mother netted poor little Godfrey , Albion pinned him in the dirt with his coat, they poured the dose of cod liver oil down his innocent throat,I Beatrice saw it all, safe side of the gate,Godfrey rolled about gagging deep in the garden waste. I brought him some Jello and a hard boiled egg to help wash away the taste.
Yes MY NAME IS BEATRICE I was often called GOAT , it was my pointy chin, my long neck and throat I had crooked teeth people said could rake herring and hair cut by my mother who when I was 6 decided that she was past caring.Godfrey and I were always together we raced our ponies through the hills and heather , and he always could make me laugh ,cheeking his Uncle Lou, his dread of beets and plans to build a seagoing suitcase raft .My dad Lloyd was an unraveling traveling salesman, door to door in Tharn, sometimes as far away as Tuckware.My ma loved to draw we had goats in the house as she was by then past all care.
.Godfrey and I shared our margarine sandwiches, back of the classroom to avoid teachers glaring and helped my Ma , cigarette ash dangling over the bowl, mix celebration loaf while she grumbled that she was past caring. And one night she cut up her warm winter coat; to make two little jackets for Godfrey and me…and she never chased us with cod liver oil, and that she loved Godfrey like he was her own, with this story I honor her memory.