IN MY COUSIN'S HOUSE
My cousin John lived in a nice, quiet suburb in Flushing, N.Y. His house, or rather my aunt and uncle's house, was, to me, neither small nor big, rather medium-sized, as seen in the eyes of a child back in the early and mid-1960s.
It lay nestled in a nice little neighborhood, amidst other houses on a neat and quiet street, lined with trees and green lawns. There was a park nearby where I remember my grandpa taking me once to swing on one of the many swing sets. Afterward, he put me on a slide and caught me as I slid down.
So, my Aunt Nina and Uncle Ces, my cousins John, Gene, and Anita lived peacefully there for many years. Of my three cousins, I related more to John since we were almost the same age, John being one year older than I.
My mom, dad, and I used to visit Uncle Ces and Aunt Nina during the Thanksgiving, Easter, and Christmas holidays. We would drive down to Flushing from upstate N.Y. in our 1960 red “Studebaker” called “the Red Lark”. I would stretch out in the back seat and try to take a small “siesta” while hearing dad mention words like: “Taconic State Parkway”, “Ossining”, “Nyack”, etc...
About two hours later, we would arrive at Uncle Ces and Aunt Nina's house. There was a front entrance on an elevated stone patio, which opened up to a coat closet on the left-hand side. In front was the living room with a few items of furniture: a sofa, an ornament shelf where Uncle Ces kept his reel-to-reel tape recorder, and a piano. But for some reason, we always used the kitchen entrance. I guess the kitchen entrance was closer to where we parked the car.
In front of the kitchen entrance were my aunt Nina's houseplants, and then...the aroma of an oven-baked turkey would greet us together with my aunt's “Happy Thanksgiving” or whatever the holiday at hand. The kitchen led into a very small dining room which had some small pictures of snow-capped mountains in Chile hanging on the wall. There was also a wooden décor piece with the words, “The Dog House,” and the names of my cousins on little pieces of wood. I remember the words on the plaque: “To stay out of the doghouse, obey the rules; to get into the doghouse, try some shenanigans”.
The kitchen led to a short hallway with a guest bathroom to the left. I remember a little ceramic cat on top of the toilet with a pull-out tail made of some perfumed fabric to keep the bathroom always smelling sweet and fresh.
Around the corner from the bathroom was the basement. This was a place of enjoyment and relaxation, where the family and guests would go for a bit of “chitter-chatter” and TV watching. When you went down the stairs, your shoes would echo a hollow “clack-clack-clacking sound. The bottom of the staircase ended in front of a corner shelf with Grandpa's globe lamp on top.
With a flick of the wall switch, the globe lamp would light up with a soft glow, illuminating the oceans and the continents of the world. The rest of the basement consisted of John's race-track table with little electric racing cars on a track. There were two lean-back easy chairs in front of the console TV set. Usually, on the arm of one of the chairs rested a TV guide clipped onto a small clipboard.
Uncle Ces had his work area in the back of the basement with all sorts of tools and gizmos. There was a bar with all kinds of drinks, and souvenirs from foreign countries hung from the top of the bar ceiling, even a shrunken head (fake of course).
Near the bar, on the basement wall hung a black and white ink drawing of Uncle Ces, sitting on top of the world cross-legged, holding about twenty different foreign flags, places that he had visited. These were in memory of Ces having worked for many years at IBM World Trade Corp.
During the holiday season, the basement saw many guests sitting in front of the console TV set watching football games, or on a Sunday, there would be bullfights on channel 41. Uncle Ces especially liked the bullfights, since he was from Venezuela. Once, he told me that as a kid, he had fought a young bull in an arena near Caracas.
John's room was near the guest bathroom. There were two beds, a dresser drawer, and a clothing closet. On the bedroom door, he had hung a funny picture of a UFO taking off and a little alien running after it, yelling, “Wait for me!”. On top of his dresser were many little army soldiers all lined up with a sign on the wall that read, “Watch out!”
Another thing that made an impact on me in John's room was a little “glow-in-the-dark” Jesus on a cross, which hung over the head of his bed. I thought that perhaps this crucifix had some special powers because of what he said once when I slept over. One thing I'd like to make clear is that our families were religiously different. Uncle Ces Aunt Nina and my cousins were Catholics, while my adoptive family, who raised me, were Lutherans.
During one of the holidays, Uncle Ces and Aunt Nina invited us to sleep over. Mom and Dad were in the guest room, and I got to sleep in John's room. I was perhaps seven or eight years old at the most, probably in 1962 or 63. Well, that night John and I were lying in opposite beds talking about this and that. He told me how his friends were pestering the “parkee” (the guy in charge of the neighborhood park) when he paused for a few seconds, pointed at his clothes closet, and said;
“At midnight, the devil will come out of that closet and try to drag us off to hell unless we take hold of Jesus.”
Then he looked above his bed and pointed to the “glow-in-the-dark” Jesus on the cross. Now my evening was ruined. Fear gripped me, imagining that at the stroke of midnight, the closet would fill with smoke and a hideous clawed hand would push the closet door open. I could just imagine a horned devil in a bright red suit, followed by some “imps” jumping on top of me and my cousin. Then they would drag us both, kicking and screaming, into the closet, down the corridor to hell. Somehow, I thought, there was a corridor that connected hell with John's closet.
My cousin John lived in a nice, quiet suburb in Flushing, N.Y. His house, or rather my aunt and uncle's house, was, to me, neither small nor big, rather medium-sized, as seen in the eyes of a child back in the early and mid-1960s.
It lay nestled in a nice little neighborhood, amidst other houses on a neat and quiet street, lined with trees and green lawns. There was a park nearby where I remember my grandpa taking me once to swing on one of the many swing sets. Afterward, he put me on a slide and caught me as I slid down.
So, my Aunt Nina and Uncle Ces, my cousins John, Gene, and Anita lived peacefully there for many years. Of my three cousins, I related more to John since we were almost the same age, John being one year older than I.
My mom, dad, and I used to visit Uncle Ces and Aunt Nina during the Thanksgiving, Easter, and Christmas holidays. We would drive down to Flushing from upstate N.Y. in our 1960 red “Studebaker” called “the Red Lark”. I would stretch out in the back seat and try to take a small “siesta” while hearing dad mention words like: “Taconic State Parkway”, “Ossining”, “Nyack”, etc...
About two hours later, we would arrive at Uncle Ces and Aunt Nina's house. There was a front entrance on an elevated stone patio, which opened up to a coat closet on the left-hand side. In front was the living room with a few items of furniture: a sofa, an ornament shelf where Uncle Ces kept his reel-to-reel tape recorder, and a piano. But for some reason, we always used the kitchen entrance. I guess the kitchen entrance was closer to where we parked the car.
In front of the kitchen entrance were my aunt Nina's houseplants, and then...the aroma of an oven-baked turkey would greet us together with my aunt's “Happy Thanksgiving” or whatever the holiday at hand. The kitchen led into a very small dining room which had some small pictures of snow-capped mountains in Chile hanging on the wall. There was also a wooden décor piece with the words, “The Dog House,” and the names of my cousins on little pieces of wood. I remember the words on the plaque: “To stay out of the doghouse, obey the rules; to get into the doghouse, try some shenanigans”.
The kitchen led to a short hallway with a guest bathroom to the left. I remember a little ceramic cat on top of the toilet with a pull-out tail made of some perfumed fabric to keep the bathroom always smelling sweet and fresh.
Around the corner from the bathroom was the basement. This was a place of enjoyment and relaxation, where the family and guests would go for a bit of “chitter-chatter” and TV watching. When you went down the stairs, your shoes would echo a hollow “clack-clack-clacking sound. The bottom of the staircase ended in front of a corner shelf with Grandpa's globe lamp on top.
With a flick of the wall switch, the globe lamp would light up with a soft glow, illuminating the oceans and the continents of the world. The rest of the basement consisted of John's race-track table with little electric racing cars on a track. There were two lean-back easy chairs in front of the console TV set. Usually, on the arm of one of the chairs rested a TV guide clipped onto a small clipboard.
Uncle Ces had his work area in the back of the basement with all sorts of tools and gizmos. There was a bar with all kinds of drinks, and souvenirs from foreign countries hung from the top of the bar ceiling, even a shrunken head (fake of course).
Near the bar, on the basement wall hung a black and white ink drawing of Uncle Ces, sitting on top of the world cross-legged, holding about twenty different foreign flags, places that he had visited. These were in memory of Ces having worked for many years at IBM World Trade Corp.
During the holiday season, the basement saw many guests sitting in front of the console TV set watching football games, or on a Sunday, there would be bullfights on channel 41. Uncle Ces especially liked the bullfights, since he was from Venezuela. Once, he told me that as a kid, he had fought a young bull in an arena near Caracas.
John's room was near the guest bathroom. There were two beds, a dresser drawer, and a clothing closet. On the bedroom door, he had hung a funny picture of a UFO taking off and a little alien running after it, yelling, “Wait for me!”. On top of his dresser were many little army soldiers all lined up with a sign on the wall that read, “Watch out!”
Another thing that made an impact on me in John's room was a little “glow-in-the-dark” Jesus on a cross, which hung over the head of his bed. I thought that perhaps this crucifix had some special powers because of what he said once when I slept over. One thing I'd like to make clear is that our families were religiously different. Uncle Ces Aunt Nina and my cousins were Catholics, while my adoptive family, who raised me, were Lutherans.
During one of the holidays, Uncle Ces and Aunt Nina invited us to sleep over. Mom and Dad were in the guest room, and I got to sleep in John's room. I was perhaps seven or eight years old at the most, probably in 1962 or 63. Well, that night John and I were lying in opposite beds talking about this and that. He told me how his friends were pestering the “parkee” (the guy in charge of the neighborhood park) when he paused for a few seconds, pointed at his clothes closet, and said;
“At midnight, the devil will come out of that closet and try to drag us off to hell unless we take hold of Jesus.”
Then he looked above his bed and pointed to the “glow-in-the-dark” Jesus on the cross. Now my evening was ruined. Fear gripped me, imagining that at the stroke of midnight, the closet would fill with smoke and a hideous clawed hand would push the closet door open. I could just imagine a horned devil in a bright red suit, followed by some “imps” jumping on top of me and my cousin. Then they would drag us both, kicking and screaming, into the closet, down the corridor to hell. Somehow, I thought, there was a corridor that connected hell with John's closet.
