Random House

Her Father's Daughter by Mollie Poupeney List Price: $5.50 Pages: 256 Format: Paperback ISBN: 0440228794 Publisher: Laurel Leaf

The Tale of the Frog

Daddy's fallen back to sleep and is snoring peacefully. The Sunday funnies cover his face and are spread on top of the blankets. Other sections of the paper rattle and wrinkle when Danny, straddling his soggy diaper, crawls on the bed and plops his soggy bottom on the pillow bunched in a ball beneath his daddy's head. "Funnies, Daddy, read me the funnies," he begs, and pulls the newspaper away from his daddy's face. He pokes a finger in one eye. "Wake up." Both eyes are squeezed tight. The lids wiggle and twitch. Danny giggles. Daddy isn't asleep, just playing pretend. Danny gouges harder to pry an eye open. As soon as he gets one open and is digging into the second, the first eye slams itself shut. Danny snickers so hard he doesn't hear his sister Maggie tiptoe into the bedroom until she throws herself with a thump and a crackle onto the bed and begins to tug on the other eyelid while Danny pinches a few eyelashes and gives Daddy's eyelid a hard ouchie pull.

"He's not asleep, he's just pretending," Maggie says. "You're just pretending, aren't you, Daddy?" she shouts into his ear. She gives the eyelid a hard upward tug and looks into a large brown eyeball surrounded by white, staring back at her.

Suddenly there is a thrilling growl. Daddy isn't going to take it anymore. With a ferocious roar and two large paws, he pounces. The two scramble to protect themselves and giggle even harder, for his strong claws have found their ribs, their stomachs, the bottoms of their feet. They scream with fear and joy.

Their older brother, Frankie, comes from the kitchen to lean against the doorjamb and watch. Maggie grabs Daddy's big toe and Danny leaps on Daddy's stomach.

"Oomph!" Daddy says. "Oh, so you think you're tough, do you? We'll just see about that now, won't we?" There's more squealing from Danny, more tickling from Daddy; then Daddy hollers real loud and jerks his leg, for Maggie has bit his big toe. Hard.

"That does it," Daddy says. "That's enough for now. Settle down, climb in, and if you're real good, I'll read you the funnies."

Which is exactly what Danny wanted in the first place. So Danny crawls under the covers on one side and Maggie on the other. Daddy raises his head off the pillow and says to Frankie, who is now watching from beside the window, "You, too, come on. Get in."

Frankie is wearing the blue-and-white-striped pajamas Santa Claus brought him. Mama says the blue matches the blue of his eyes. Frankie's skin is almost as white as the white stripes. "Too pale and skinny and too tall for his age," Mama says. "It's because he's growing way too fast."

But all Danny can feel when he looks at Frankie, standing by the window with the morning sun shining on his black hair, is how much he wishes he was as big as his big brother, who is learning how to be a real boxer. Frankie is lucky. He gets to take lessons from Daddy's old friend, Sailor Sharky, who owns the gym uptown above Brennan's meat market. They go there every Sunday afternoon, him and Daddy. They go alone. Not even Maggie gets to go watch Frankie put on the boxing gloves and get into the ring. Not even Mama, who wouldn't go for a million dollars, not even if you asked her on bended knees, she said.

"It's cruel to teach little boys how to beat up on each other so a bunch of grown men can sit around drinking and betting money on who's going to knock the other one down, or out--which is even worse! And don't you tell me it doesn't happen. I think it's barbaric," she said.

Which is when Daddy said to Mama, "Not another word. We're not raising us a pansy here. It's a man's world, and he's got to learn how to take care of himself, how to be a real man. And, by God, it's my job to teach him. This is the way my own daddy taught me, and I didn't turn out too bad, did I?" Daddy smiled at Mama. "When I was in the ring, you used to think I was pretty slick yourself--or have you forgotten?"

Mama turned and reached for the frying pan.

Daddy said, "I'm telling you, do it your way and you'd make a sissy out of him."

Mama just shook her head.

"Besides, the boys can't hurt each other with those big gloves. They might as well be hitting each other with goose-down pillows, right, son?" And Frankie mumbled something Daddy didn't hear and got a small flick on the side of his head with Daddy's thick fingernail to get his attention. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yessir."

"You like it, don't you, learning from Sailor Sharky?"

"Yessir."

"Well, c'mon then. Let's show your mother how it's done." Daddy bent and hunched his left shoulder, burying his chin and bringing up his dukes, telling Frankie he could have the first punch. Maggie and Danny watched Frankie jab a couple of times. Daddy never made real fists or hit hard, but his hands were fast. It was more like he was slapping Frankie on his cheeks and the side of his head while he was telling him to keep his guard up, keep his guard up. They could see that Frankie was trying to do what Daddy was saying, but most of the time his eyes were half closed, fluttering, and he backed into the corner of the kitchen next to the stove.

He ended up crying. Mama was already crying and saying, "Delbert, stop, you hit him too hard! You're too rough. Quit now! You've been trying to get him to fight since he was in diapers--can't you see he does not like to fight?"

And Maggie said, "Frankie's just scared, Mama." Mama told her to mind her own business and to see if Danny didn't need his diaper changed. Which he usually did.

But Daddy gave Frankie a hard look and said, "No, Maggie's right. The boy has a yellow streak a yard wide right down the middle of his back. Don't worry--Sharky will cure him of that if anyone can."

Excerpted from HIS FATHER'S DAUGHTER © Copyright 2002 by Mollie Poupeney. Reprinted with permission by Laurel Leaf, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved.

Click here now to buy this book from Amazon.

Back to top