CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: I HAVE A FUTURE
There was a fly flying around the shop. Mother told me to get rid of it. I grabbed a fly swat and chased him around wherever it flew. Finally it stopped on the light bulb on the ceiling, so I sat there and waited.
Mother said, “Even the fly is picking on you, love.”
She took a cloth and stood beside the waffle-making machine. The mixer was turning round and round, mixing the ingredients together and the waffle-making machine was cooking the latest batch she poured in. Both machines were making a lot of noise and Mother just stood there listening to them.
Bloody hell, that fly flew away before I even got to hit it. I scolded, “Bloody stupid fly.”
Mother stopped listening to the machine. She turned to me and shook her head, saying, “Now that your Father and I are looking after you, you should be of no problem. If one day both of us went to Heaven, what would happen to you?”
Mother often said those words. I asked her before what ‘Heaven’ meant, and she said ‘Heaven’ is where dead people go, and dead people means people who sleep forever, which is a very, very long time, and won’t be able to cook or make waffles.
That’s a nightmare! What would I do if I get hungry?
“Good day, Mrs. Weasley. You busy?” It was Cedric’s father coming into the waffle shop.
Mother smiled and said, “Too bad there’s no customers to be busy with. All we’re having here are mosquitoes and flies.”
I always thought Mother liked to lie. We don’t serve mosquitoes and flies; we hit and get rid of them. But I couldn’t say that to Mr. Diggory.
Mr. Diggory didn’t realize he was being lied to, in fact, he said, “You must be so relaxed and lucky for having mosquitoes and flies for customers. Unlike me, I had to work all day till now to even have time for lunch.”
Mr. Diggory was a coach and he goes to big fields to train professional basketball players.
As Mother made waffles, she said, “You’re the lucky one to have Cedric as an all-rounder son, what with his athletics and studies and all.”
“What’s the use of being an all-rounder if you can’t even wash your own socks? I tell you, he works the missus to the bone and treats her like some kind of slave or something. I, on the other hand, have to go shout at boys all day long, and then I come home having to shout at my own boy for being a lazy bone for working his mother to death all night long. It’s the same lecture everyday, I tell you,” Mr. Diggory stopped, took a look at me and asked, “Can Ron do the laundry?”
Mother said, “All he knows is how to eat.”
Mother was lying again. I don’t only know how to eat. I know how to do a lot of other things, like taking out the trash, sweeping the floor and getting water for the class.
Mr. Diggory said, “You have to teach a boy like Ron to do things. Let him learn a trade so that he can depend on that trade to keep food on the table for himself at least.”
Mother brought the maple syrup waffles to Mr. Diggory and asked, “What can he learn anyway?”
“You can teach him how to make waffles, dear. You’re a master yourself. If Ron can at least learn how to make waffles, he wouldn’t go hungry for life. Even better, he could even help you out in the shop.”
“I’ve been a waffle-maker all my life, and I don’t want my next generation to go into the same trade. There’s no future in selling waffles,” Mother said as she sat in front of Mr. Diggory to chitchat.
Mr. Diggory pointed his fork at Mother, “Well, you can’t expect him to get a PhD degree now, can you? If selling waffles is not his future, what is? Have you thought about that?”
Mother lowered her head and didn’t say anything. Every time she lowered her head, she would sigh. There was one time when she cried. It was the day when Fred and George left home. I didn’t want to see Mother cry.
Too bad I didn’t know what ‘future’ meant, or else I could answer for Mother. I could even say, “I already have a future. I have a whole boxful of it!”
I wonder if ‘future’ comes in boxes. I’m just guessing.
After a long, long time, Mother looked up and said, “Ron is born slow, and I always try to let him study more and see if he could be smarter. I even spent a lot of money for his tuition.”
Mr. Diggory asked, “Did that make him any smarter?”
Mother didn’t say anything again.
“How about asking him to learn about fixing the roads, or be a janitor, or maybe even be the paperboy. It’s a no-brainer kind of job for Ron. I’m sure he could learn how to do any of those things.”
Mother didn’t wait for Mr. Diggory to finish as she stood and went to the back to do the dishes.
“OK, OK, Mrs. Weasley. I won’t say anymore to offend you. I know I’m a little outspoken, and I say what I feel, but that doesn’t mean I don’t respect your son Ronald,” Mr. Diggory held up one hand while drinking his ice-cold orange juice with another. “I’m just giving some options here to lighten your burden a little, and all I’m saying is that every dog has its day and what comes around, goes around. Be a little open-minded and don’t worry too much about Ron.”
Mother replied, “If Ron can be an all-rounder like Cedric, I don’t have to be worried right now.”
Mr. Diggory finished his waffles and orange juice, wiped his mouth and left the shop.
Mother came out and cleared the dishes. I was still there holding my fly swat, not sure what to swat at, what with the fly gone and all.
Mother was listening to the noise of the machines again.
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