The Uncle

by Frank Hart

He's here! Mommy, Uncle Rob is here!" The little girl jumped off the sofa and ran to the door. The event even lured her older brother from his room, and he bounded down the stairs in his stocking feet.

When Rob spied Lisa and Jeff standing in the doorway, he stopped, crouched down, looked both ways, then hurled himself behind a bush. Lisa shrieked with delight, and even Jeff couldn't stifle a grin. Their mother appeared, looked outside, and frowned.

"Look at you, Rob," she scolded as she opened the door. "No wonder these guys go nuts when you're around."

Rob got up and brushed himself off. "Oh, I know, MOM. I'm such a bad influence." He did an exaggerated double take. "Wait a minute. You're not my mom. You're just my sister. I don't have to do a thing you say." With that, he ran up the remaining steps into the house and lifted her high off the floor.

"Oh, Rob." Judy gave him a big hug. "It's so good to see you. How was it?"

"Great. Can't wait to go back." He picked up the little girl. "Hi, squirt. You're looking awful pretty these days. Hi, big guy," he said as he set her down and opened his arms to Jeff, who already held out his hand, and they finally came together in an awkward embrace.

As Rob followed Judy into the kitchen, he stopped and turned to his nephew. "Hey, will you run out to my car? There's a bag behind the driver's seat I forgot to bring in."

Lisa raced her brother to the door. Rob grinned. "I guess they know when it's time for presents."

"They always love what you bring them from your trips," Judy said. "They read the postcards over and over. Jeff even looked up the weather in London in the paper every day. He's so, I don't know, teen-age withdrawn lately, it was good to see him take that interest. Those kids really love you."

"Well, gosh," said Rob, humbled. "They're good guys. Say, when's John get home? I was able to sneak some Havanas back in my suitcase for him."

Judy looked at the clock and laughed. "He ought to be here any time. He'll love you too."

The three adults sat with their drinks, half-watching the evening news. Lisa lay on the floor and fingered the gown of her new Queen Elizabeth doll. Jeff knelt by Rob's chair, leafing through a picture book of Wales. "Wow," he said. "It's so green. Did you go to any of these places?"

"Yeh, I did," said Rob, and he leaned over and flipped back a few pages. "This village here-I spent a couple nights there. Hiked way above the town one day. I'll show you the slides when I get them back. Beautiful little farmhouses, and you're right-everything seems like a different shade of green."

"Wow."

"Quiet, guys," said John. "Here's the weather."

"Yeh, we can't miss this part," Rob stage-whispered. "We've gotta see if this joker can predict sunrise tomorrow." John playfully threw a pillow at him; everyone else laughed.

"Apparently your dad's not sure if the sun will be coming up or not," said Rob. "He-oh jeez, is this guy still on?" He pointed to the TV, where a clown cavorted among acres upon acres of new cars. "You guys didn't knock this idiot off while I was gone?"

"Krazy Kar Klown is funny," ventured Lisa.

"Krazy Kar Klown should be shot!" said Rob, and he slid down to the floor and put her in a mock-wrestling hold as she screamed and kicked. "Look, even the Queen agrees." He picked up the doll and spoke in an accented falsetto. "I, the Queen, do hereby declare that Krazy Kar Klown should be killed as soon as possible..."

"Don't joke like that, Rob," Judy said in disgust. Jeff, who had been only smiling at his uncle's most recent antics, now laughed loudly.

"Who said I was joking?" Rob asked as he stood over the panting Lisa. "That jerk has been selling overpriced gas guzzlers for years now."

"Oh, Rob," Judy said, and she got up and headed toward the kitchen. Her brother did a little dance and mouthed the words "Oh, Rob" behind her. The kids tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress their giggles.

"I saw that, mister," Judy said.

"Saw what? Saw what? Or I kick you in the butt," intoned Jeff and Lisa in sing-songy unison. Rob hid his face in his hands.

"Kids!" Judy yelled. Rob, "did you teach them that?"

"Rob had to suddenly go home," came Queen Elizabeth from behind a couch. Jeff laughed so hard he had to hold his side. Lisa dragged two big cushions from the sofa, the better to cover her uncle with.

"God, I hope we eat soon," said John, staring blankly at the stock index numbers on the TV screen. "I can't wait to get into those cigars."

Rob was still asleep when the phone rang. He reached over blindly and knocked a book off the bed table before finding the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Rob, you bastard."

"What? Hello?"

"I oughta kill you."

"John?"

"You're not even up yet, are you, you scum?"

"Is this John? What the hell's going on?"

There was a pause and then a muffled sob. "I'm sorry," cried the voice on the other end, "you bastard."

"John, what's wrong? What's happened?"

John cleared his throat and spoke slowly, deliberately. "Jeff's in some trouble."

"Jeff? What kind of trouble?"

The pain came over the phone line as clearly as the words. "He shot someone."

"What do you mean, shot someone? Who? Was it an accident?"

"No, it wasn't an accident. He shot that fucking clown."

"Clown? What clown?"

"That fucking clown that sells cars. On TV. The one you said should be shot the other night."

"Oh Jesus. Krazy Kar Klown. We were joking..."

"Apparently Jeff didn't think you were joking."

"Oh Jesus. Oh, I can't believe...I mean, what happened? How bad...?"

"He got my .38 from the cabinet downstairs. He took a bus-he took two buses-to the car dealership. He walked up to the clown and shot him. In the head."

"Oh, Jesus. Is he dead?"

John sighed, a broken, troubled sigh. "No. At least, not yet. He's in critical condition."

"Oh, God. Oh, this is...Where are you? Where's Jeff?"

"Jeff is at the city jail. They called me at the office. I came right home and Judy's not even here."

"Where is she?"

"I just found her at Beth's. She's pretty hysterical. I have to go get her."

"John...what can I do?"

"I think you've done enough, fella."

"Oh, come on, John! I love those kids. I wouldn't do anything to..."

"I know, Rob, I know. But they...sometimes you..."

"What about Lisa?"

"The neighbors are picking her up at school."

Rob spoke as he climbed out of bed. "I'll go right down to the...jail. I'll see you there."

"Rob...we're not...pleased with you right now. I asked the detective if you could be charged. He said no way."

"I don't care about that. Is it a problem if I go to see Jeff?"

John exhaled heavily. "No."

"OK. I'll see you down there." He waited, but John made no reply, and Rob hung up.

* * *

He beat his sister and brother-in-law to the detention facility. After identifying himself and his business, he had to wait several minutes before a guard came and led him down a cold, unfinished cement hallway relieved only by gray metal doors with small windows in them. They stopped at one marked "15," and the guard unlocked it and motioned for Rob to enter.

Jeff sat alone at a small black table. He looked up as the door swung open; his eyes showed relief that it was Rob. Traces of a...prideful?...smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. He stood up, tentatively, to greet his uncle.

Rob locked him in a silent, tight embrace, rocking him gently back and forth like a boy leading his first slow dance. It was all he could think of to do.


Author Biography:

Frank Hart has this to say for himself: "I'm 40, aggressively unemployed, a college dropout, occasional musician, really hoping to hit Lotto soon. My favorite color is green. Favorite New Kid on the Block-don't have one. My work has appeared in THE LONG STORY, APAEROS, PAPER RADIO, IMAGINARY FRIENDS, and BEING, among others." Frank worries that he doesn't always get his mail. And he lives in Denver.


This story first appeared in the Volume 5, Number 2 (Fall 1991) issue of
Sign of the Times-A Chronicle of Decadence in the Atomic Age

For a copy of the issue that this story appeared in please use the on-line order form or email sott_backissue@unclemarkie.com and ask for Volume 5, Number 2.
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