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“Why am I short?” Louise asked as she glared at the sign decreeing that she wasn’t tall enough to ride the “Barferator.” It was the newest ride at Wonder Wharf and for some unfathomable reason Mr. Fischoeder was actually enforcing the height rules at the park now. Although it might have to do with that one kid who fell off of the “Screamicane” and broke his shoulder…
“You’re not short, Sweetie, you’re pocket-sized!” Mom said as she gently led Louise away. Louise had already spent a good ten minutes arguing with the operator and then trying to sneak on. Getting grabbed around the waist by a greasy carney and unceremoniously dropped at Mom’s feet wasn’t the highlight of her day. “Like one of those fierce little dogs, rawr!”
Louise rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Mother, for the show of support.”
Mom held onto Louise’s shoulder all the way to the Hall of Mirrors. Ever since Mom took refuge in the maze to escape a bunch of crazed turkeys one Thanksgiving, the elder Belcher had developed a fondness for the quiet attraction. The fact that Mom now knew which mirrors made her look her best was just a bonus.
“You know, your Great-Grandma Claudia was short,” Mom said after paying and dragging Louise into the glass hallways. Louise couldn’t help herself admiring the mirrors: they would probably smash so well if only she and Lady Shatter-teeth were ever allowed to run free in there. “And she was a firecracker like you, too!”
Louise looked up at her mother with suspicion. Louise was learning that her mother was a lot more…interesting than she let on. Breaking windows and throwing rocks at cars weren’t “good girl” activities. Louise was really starting to warm up to her mother. But that didn’t mean that Louise didn’t know her mother would bend the truth to try and comfort her kids.
“What do you mean?”
Mom admired herself in “Best Mirror,” the one that made the woman look the tallest and most shapely, for a moment before she answered. “Grandma Claudia was energetic, too! She told me once that she would weed without being asked because it meant that she could go ‘murder some mullien.’”
“You said she was sweet,” Louise cut in bitterly. No one ever called her sweet. It didn’t bother her much…usually.
“She was!” Mom exclaimed with a smile, her face echoed through the hall. “But she was also someone with a lot of energy and sometimes a lot of anger so weeding or kneading bread or cutting wood were ways that she could blow off some steam.”
Louise wasn’t entirely convinced but she was getting there. “It’s not the same, though. I don’t do anything useful. I just go to the dump with you to break poignant examples of Capitalist consumption.”
“You also help Gene and Tina whenever they have problems,” Mom said as they moved on to accommodate the people behind them, muttering at their (lack of) speed. “And you help your dad with the box plants and you help me blow off my steam when we go to the dump or when we go to the pet store.”
Louise mulled that over as they came to “Worst Mirror,” the one that made Mom look like a “gremlin.” Mom scowled at her reflection and Louise might have smiled if her own face wasn’t on every wall, too.
“I guess I do have to bail Gene and Tina out pretty often,” Louise said as she put a finger to her chin. “Plus you and Dad wouldn’t survive without me, either.”
“Of course we wouldn’t, Sweetheart!” Mom squeezed Louise to her side and Louise allowed it for a good thirty seconds. Honestly, if there weren’t some extremely annoying people behind them, Louise might have even hugged Mom back.
“And Great-Grandma Claudia, do you think she would go to the dump to break stuff?” Louise asked a moment later, after she’d straightened her dress and renewed her dignity.
Mom didn’t answer for a moment and instead leaned in close to inspect her face. Louise watched her mother, uncharacteristically patient. Tina looked like Mom and Gene looked like Dad but acted like Mom. All Louise got from Mom was extra-long pinky toes.
Plus a zest for life, Louise was learning lately.
“Grandma Claudia wouldn’t break stuff at the dump,” Mom finally began to Louise’s bitter disappointment, “only because girls didn’t do stuff like that when she was little. Girls played nice and kept house. Even strong Italian ladies like your Great-grandma.”
“So she had to be like Connie Corleone? Kind of a wimp until everybody else dies?” Louise asked, running a finger over a mirror that made her look even shorter. It bothered Louise but not as much as it would have fifteen minutes ago.
“How do you know about Connie Corleone?” Mom said with suspicion obvious in her voice.
Louise shrugged. “Cultural osmosis?”
“You haven’t seen ‘The Godfather,’ have you?” Mom pressed. Louise rolled her eyes again, although that smile was still threatening to break out over her face. Louise schooled her features in the mirror in front of her and walked on with Mom trailing her. “Louise!”
“No, of course not! I’m nine; where would I even get it?” Louise finally said, ignoring that her question actually had an answer. Mom didn’t need to know that Louise had already figured out Mom’s newest password for streaming.
“Well, anyway,” Mom continued, looking down at Louise with narrowed eyes, “Grandma Claudia was kinda like Connie Corleone. Without the mob stuff…I think.”
“How so?”
Mom stopped at “Second Best Mirror,” the one that at least gave her some girth in the boob department. She preened for a moment before the people behind rudely pushed past them, still muttering. Louise glared at their retreating backs. Too bad that they weren’t a mafia family; that could come in handy.
“Well, she was short and she was opinionated. She took good care of her family and she was fierce! And like Connie Corleone later on, you didn’t want to cross her. Although Grandpa Burt was a perfect gentleman to her, Thank God,” Mom said with a hand over her heart. They reached the exit to the Hall of Mirrors and Louise squinted out in the afternoon sunlight.
“I could be a mob boss,” Louise said as they walked around the amusement park, looking for the rest of the family. “Connie basically took over by the end.”
Linda frowned down at her daughter. “Louise, you really didn’t see ‘The Godfather,’ did you? Tell me the truth!”
Louise smiled up at her mother and gave Mom’s hand a squeeze. “Nah, I watched ‘Part III.'”
“Louise!”
Louise cackled as she ran off, agile and pocket-sized, and loved her mother that chased her down.