How He Learned About Death

It was winter of 1960 when little EP and his father were on their way to a Christmas party. EP was only eight, but he was very proud to be his age. He was a big kid now. His third grade teacher taught him cursive and multiplication. He even learned division. EP had glasses now too. They made him look professional like his father.

His father’s name was Donald. Donald rarely saw his family. Usually holidays were celebrated with his wife’s. In fact, they were going to host the Christmas Day party for them. This party, though, was being hosted by his family. Donald didn’t remember much of his relatives. He hadn’t seen them in several years. For all he knew, many of them could’ve been dead. His parents were. Jeanette, his mother, died when EP was seven. Dominic, his father, died when Donald himself was seven. Dominic served in World War I and was shot. He survived the war, but the wound became infected later on and caused his death. Ever since then, Donald felt as if his family was no longer the same. That was why when he was old enough to make decisions for himself, he stopped going to the parties.

This party was different though. One reason was that EP was finally meeting Donald’s family. The most important reason was that Donald had to say his last goodbye to a little friend.

EP trudged through the snow in his Keds instead of boots. Every little kid had to have Keds in those days. EP picked the blue ones since he always wore blue. Blue was his favorite color. Whenever he wore the color, it brought out the tint of green in his eyes and made his strawberry blonde hair shine.

The only thing EP was able to get away with today was wearing his Keds. His parents forced him to wear dress pants a white dress shirt. He even had to wear suspender straps! EP didn’t think any of this was fair. After all, it was just a party. What was the big deal? At first EP’s parents were forcing him to wear the dress shoes he wore for his communion. EP absolutely hated those. He begged to be able to wear his Keds. His parents allowed it, but only if they could gel his hair to the side. EP happily obliged. It was for the sake of his feet and fashion statement.

“How much longer do we have to walk?” EP asked.

“Just a few more blocks,” Donald replied.

“Will any of the people talk Italian?” EP looked up at his father who stood at 6’2.

Donald shook his head. “Speak Italian, son. And no. Your great grandparents moved to Chicago a long time ago. The language has been lost.”

EP looked down as he put his hands in his pockets. No Italian language in his father’s family? That was odd. His mother spoke Italian. It was the dialect from Naples but a form of Italian nevertheless. Why couldn’t his father’s family speak Italian? Didn’t all Italians know Italian?

The two of them trudged along in the snow for a little longer. A blizzard hit Chicago and Donald sped-walk while EP ran next to him, having trouble keeping up. They stopped in front of a house with red brick. The door was white and so were the curtains covering the windows. EP looked up at the roof. It was pointed like a triangle just like his house.

Donald guided EP up the four stairs. Before any of them could knock, the door swung open. EP jumped. An older woman was smiling at his father. Her hair was curly and chin-length. It was also black-blue like his father’s. Her skin was olive-toned and her eyes were brown. From the stories his father told him, EP thought she looked very much Italian.

“Donald!” the woman beamed. She hugged EP’s father.

Donald chuckled. “Hello Auntie Zora.”

EP thought Zora was a strange name.

Auntie Zora bent down so she was face-to-face with him. “And this must be the famous Eugene Perry I’ve been hearing about. I haven’t seen him since… since… why, this is my first time!” Auntie Zora’s smile grew.

EP scowled. He didn’t like it when people called him by his real name.

“Ah!” Auntie Zora exclaimed, standing up straight again. “Look at this weather! Look how rude I’m being! Come in, please!”

EP and Donald did so gladly. Loud voices carried out across the house. EP looked around. He didn’t know anyone here. They all had similar traits though. Black-blue hair, olive-tone skin, and brown eyes. Typical Italian traits. EP looked up at his father too. He also had these traits.

“Daddy, are all these people related to us?” EP asked.

Donald nodded. “This is my side of the family.”

The left side of EP’s bottom lip stuck out like it usually did when he was thinking. These people didn’t look related to him. Why was he the only one with strawberry blonde hair? Green eyes? Pale skin?

Auntie Zora was back in front of EP and Donald again. “Now Donald, I have to ask. How’s your wife?”

“Josephine’s fine,” Donald replied.

“Where are your other children?”

“Junior’s at a friend’s house and Celeste is at school, helping out.”

Donald had promise EP that they would have this day just to themselves. Well, sort of.

“Aww, that’s too bad. I was looking forward to meeting them today. Oh, well. Let’s go bring you to the rest of the family!” Auntie Zora exclaimed happily.

And so the awkward tour began.

EP met all sorts of people but they were all old. Uncle Guido was on the couch. Cousin Joe was too fat to move from place to place. Auntie Sophia was too skinny. Cousin Martha was there. Her brother Chris was there. Three more aunts sat at the dinner table. Five uncles sat with them. Five cousins sat in front of the small TV. Some women were walking in and out of the bathroom. But still. No one was EP’s age.

EP didn’t like this. His father said there would be kids to play with at this party but everyone here was too old for EP’s liking. He also didn’t like how interesting they found him. Sure, he was the only one with blonde hair here but haven’t they seen others with his hair color before? Not only was everyone interested in EP’s hair, but they were also fascinated by his eyelashes. EP always had long, full, and gold eyelashes. He got them from his mother. Cousin Joe made a joke saying that EP had girl lashes. Donald pulled EP away just before his fat joke slipped out. It’s not like they moved to an even better person. Auntie Lisa made fun of EP’s pale skin tone. She constantly poked his hands and laughed at how the area she poked turned even whiter. Donald pulled EP to the kitchen. People were there, but none of them paid the two any attention.

“I want someone to play with,” EP said.

Donald patted his son’s back. “Someone will come soon.”

“I don’t like these people very much,” EP said quietly.

“Can I tell you something?” Donald asked.

EP nodded as he swung his legs under the table.

Donald leaned in and motioned for EP to do so too. EP turned his head so his ear faced his father.

“I’m surprised most of these people aren’t dead,” Donald whispered.

Dead. EP had heard of that word before. He heard it when his grandma died. He heard it when his father talked about his own father. It was on the news every day. People said it at school every once in a while. The thing was, EP just didn’t known what it meant.

“Donald! More guests have arrived! They want to see you!” Auntie Zora called out from another room.

Donald patted his son’s shoulder. “Be back in a few.” Then he got up and left EP alone at the table.

EP sighed and put his head on the table. He listened to his father’s deep voice greeting someone in the living room. He couldn’t make out the reply because he began to hear singing. The voice belonged to a young female. EP picked up his head to listen better. The voice seemed to be coming from upstairs. The kitchen led to those stairs. EP stood up from his chair and looked around. No one was watching him. He began his journey up the stairs. The voice grew louder and clearer.