Reality. “FUCK!” He viciously ripped open the nightstand, slapped the sex aids in the drawer and then rammed it shut. It had happened. It had happened and all of the wine-induced denial could not change it. Chapter 5 1 If you were to ask Corky what was the earliest thing he could remember, he could tell you quite clearly that it was right before his 5th birthday (the birthday he couldn’t remember but the thing that happened before it he did). He could remember it vividly, even provide specific details of everything that had happened. He had been sitting in this very spot when Walter Cronkite interrupted “Days of our Lives” with a CBS news special bulletin. “A news flash from Dallas, President Kennedy has been shot.” The news flash wasn’t all that notable to Corky. After all, they were always interrupting his TV shows with things like tests of the emergency broadcast system or announcements of blizzard warnings. This was just another of those interruptions. What was notable was his mother’s reaction. “No. It can’t be.” Breathlessly at first. There was a pause. And then came a ululating wail that made the boy cower: “Noooooo! Oh but we are sinners! Our President! Our catholic President! I’ll set the house on fire if I don’t turn off… Pray! where’s my rosary?!” She caromed around the kitchen like a lunatic. Corky watched this with mild fascination. Whatever Walter Cronkite was reporting was pretty important to make her act so strangely. Back and forth, back and forth. Racing around the kitchen like a bulldozer on roller skates. Opening and closing cupboards, turning the faucet on and off, off and on. The phone, the light switch, the coffee pot, everything within reach was being handled again and again to no visible useful purpose. It went on for about twenty minutes.
