153 Tales of Oak Street

Kathleen with Grandpa Ira
in front of 153 Oak St.

Like me, many members of my extended family consider the old house on the corner of Oak and Ryerson to be one of the most important buildings in our collective history. Of course, it was never really about the house itself but the people inside it: Ira, Kate, Della and, quite often, Myrtle--my grandfather, grandmother and two great aunts.

Say the word "summer" to me, and I will recall warm, dark nights spent on the sweeping wrap-around porch listening to the cicadas singing in the trees and waiting for the stories to begin. While many of these stories are well known, they were told in a manner that made them unique in their own right. I hope my re-tellings do them justice. This particular story is about "The Crooked Mouth Family."

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Once upon a time in a little town not very far away there lived a crooked family. That's not to say that they were corrupt or criminals. No, they just happened to be oddly shaped. This one had a crooked back and that one had a crooked arm. They even had a crooked dog whose crooked tail looked like a crooked stick. They were all crooked in many different crooked ways, but they were also all crooked in the same way for they all had crooked mouths. They lived a simple life in a simple house with a wood stove for heat, a hand pump for water and a single white candle for their evening's light.

There was a daughter in the family (we'll call her Persephone, which is not the easiest name to say when you have a crooked mouth) and she was fixing to marry a young man who'd caught her fancy. One winter evening, she invited him to dinner and introduced him to the family. By the end of the meal, the young man had made quite an impression on the girl's family, and they readily gave the couple their blessing to get married.

Just before it came time for the young man to leave, a winter storm swept through the neighborhood and blocked the roads so the family insisted he stay with them until the storm had passed. One by one they each snuggled into their separate beds until the mother realized they hadn't put out the candle.

"Pa," called Ma out of the right corner of her crooked mouth, "can you put out the candle?"

"I can," said Pa out of the left corner of his crooked mouth. But when he got up and went to blow out the candle, he could only make a small puffing sound like this: "Pff. Pff. Pff. Pff."

"No, Ma," said Pa. "I can't put the candle out."

"Per-feff-o-nee," called Ma (for remember, it's not the easiest name to say when you have a crooked mouth), "can you put out the candle?"

"I can," said Persephone out of the top corner of her crooked mouth. But when she went to blow out the candle, she only made a long whispery sound like this: "Shhhhhh. Shhhhhh. Shhhhhh. Shhhhhh."

"No, Ma," said Persephone. "I can't put the candle out. Can you?"

"I can," said Ma out of the right corner of her crooked mouth. But when she went to blow out the candle, she only made a shrill hissing sound like this: "Zee! Zee! Zee! Zee!"

"No," she said. "I can't put the candle out."

"Let's try to do it together," suggested Persephone, and the three of them bent to blow out the candle in unison.

"Pff. Pff. Shhh. Shhh. Zee! Zee!" Over and over they tried but still they couldn't blow out the candle. After an hour of trying, they looked up to see the young man standing in the doorway.

He shook his head, licked his thumb and forefinger and pinched out the flame saying, "If I'm going to be a part this family you're going to have to get electricity."

Next time: "Where's My Big Toe?"