Introduction
Phoebe�s mother left home one day, leaving a freezer full of food and promises to return. Then Phoebe remembered the strange young man who showed up at the front door asking for Mrs. Winterbottom a few days before she disappeared. Dubbed �the lunatic� by Phoebe, she is afraid he has kidnapped her mother. She and Sal eventually track him down to a local college campus, where they find him sitting on a bench with Phoebe�s mother, who kisses him on the cheek.
Cast of Characters
Narrator (Older Salamanca)
Salamanca (Sal)
Phoebe
Mr. Winterbottom
Prudence
Mrs. Winterbottom
Mike
Mrs. Partridge
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Narrator: Phoebe phoned, begging me to come over
Phoebe: I can�t stand it. I want a witness.
Sal: For what?
Phoebe: I just want a witness.
Sal: Did you tell your father? About your mother and �
Phoebe: Are you kidding? You should see him. He and Prudence spent all last night and this morning cleaning the house. They�ve scrubbed floors and bathrooms, they dusted like fiends, they did laundry and ironing, and they vacuumed. Then they took a good look around. My father said, �Maybe it looks too good. Your mother will think we can function without her.� So they messed things up. He�s very put out with me that I wouldn�t help.
Narrator: Although I did not want to be a witness to anything, I agreed. When I got to her house, Phoebe, Mr. Winterbottom, and Prudence were sitting there staring at each other.
Mr. Winterbottom: Didn�t she say what time she was coming?
Prudence: No she did not, and I wish you would quit acting as if it is my fault that she did not say more than she did.
Narrator: Mr. Winterbottom was a wreck. He jumped up to straighten a pillow, sat back down, and then he leaped up to mess up the pillow again. He went out in the yard and walked around in circles. He changed his shirt twice.
Sal: I hope you don�t mind that I�m here.
Mr. Winterbottom: Why would I mind?
Narrator: Just as I thought they would all go stark raving mad, a taxi pulled up outside.
Mr. Winterbottom: I can�t look.
Narrator: Mr. Winterbottom escaped to the kitchen.
Phoebe: I can�t look either.
Narrator: Phoebe followed her father, and I followed Phoebe.
Prudence: Well, gosh. I don�t know what has gotten into everybody. Aren�t you excited to see her?
Narrator: From the kitchen we heard Prudence open the front door. Then we heard Mrs. Winterbottom�s voice �
Mrs. Winterbottom: Oh sweetie �
Narrator: Mr. Winterbottom wiped the kitchen counter. We heard Prudence gasp before her mother continued talking.
Mrs. Winterbottom: I�d like you to meet Mike.
Mr. Winterbottom: Mike?
Narrator: Mr. Winterbottom was quite red in the face. I was glad there was no axe in the house or I am fairly certain he would have picked it up and headed straight for Mike.
Phoebe: Now, Dad, don�t do anything too rash �
Mr. Winterbottom: Mike?
Narrator: Mrs. Winterbottom called out �
Mrs. Winterbottom: George? Phoebe?
Narrator: Then we heard her asking Prudence �
Mrs. Winterbottom: Where are they? Didn�t you tell them we were coming?
Narrator: Mr. Winterbottom took a deep breath.
Mr. Winterbottom: Okay. Okay, here we go.
Narrator: When we saw Mrs. Winterbottom, she looked different. Her hair was short and stylish, she was wearing makeup and earrings, and her clothes were altogether unlike anything she had ever worn before: a T-shirt and blue jeans. She looked magnificent, but she did not look like Phoebe�s mother. And �the lunatic� was with her. Mrs. Winterbottom looked frightened � but not of Mike. She seemed afraid of her husband.
Phoebe: Dad, that�s the lunatic.
Mrs. Winterbottom: Oh Phoebe.
Narrator: Mrs. Winterbottom hugged Phoebe, but Phoebe did not hug her back.
Mr. Winterbottom: Norma, I hope you are going to explain exactly what is going on here.
Narrator: Mr. Winterbottom was trying to make his voice firm, but it trembled. Mrs. Winterbottom tried to put her arms around Mr. Winterbottom, but he pulled away.
Mr. Winterbottom: I think we deserve an explanation.
Narrator: Mrs. Winterbottom sat down on the sofa and began to cry. It was a terrible, terrible moment. She said there was something that she had never told her husband, and she feared he would not forgive her for it.
Mrs. Winterbottom: Mike is my son.
Mr. Winterbottom, Prudence, Phoebe, and Sal (in unison): Your son!?
Narrator: Mrs. Winterbottom stared at her husband.
Mrs. Winterbottom: George, I know you will think I am not � or was not � respectable, but it was before I met you, and I had to give him up for adoption and I could hardly bear to think of it and �
Mr. Winterbottom: Respectable? Respectable? The hell with respectable!
Narrator: Mr. Winterbottom did not normally swear. Mrs. Winterbottom stood up.
Mrs. Winterbottom: Mike found me, and at first I was frightened of what that would mean. I�ve lived such a tiny life and I had to go away and sort things out. I haven�t yet met Mike�s adoptive parents, but Mike and I have spent a lot of time talking, and I�ve been thinking �
Narrator: Mike looked down at his feet.
Mr. Winterbottom: Are you going to leave?
Narrator: Mrs. Winterbottom looked as if he had slapped her.
Mrs. Winterbottom: Leave?
Mr. Winterbottom: Again, I mean.
Mrs. Winterbottom: Only if you want me to. Only if you cannot live with such an unrespectable �
Mr. Winterbottom: I said to hell with respectable! What�s all this about respectable? It�s not respectable I�m concerned about. I�m more concerned that you couldn�t � or wouldn�t � tell me about any of this.
Narrator: Mike stood up.
Mike: I knew it wouldn�t work.
Mr. Winterbottom: I have nothing against you Mike � I just don�t know you.
Narrator: Mr. Winterbottom looked at his wife.
Mr. Winterbottom: I don�t know you either.
Narrator: I was wishing I was invisible. I was infinitely sad, sad down to my bones. I saw Mrs. Partridge through the window, standing on Phoebe�s front walk.
Mr. Winterbottom: I think we all need to sit down and talk. Maybe we can sort something out.
Narrator: Mr. Winterbottom went over to Mike and shook his hand.
Mr. Winterbottom: I did always think a son would be a nice addition to this family.
Narrator: Mrs. Winterbottom looked relieved.
Sal: I�d better go.
Narrator: Everybody turned to me as if I had just dropped through the roof.
Mr. Winterbottom: Sal, I�m sorry, I truly am.
Narrator: Mr. Winterbottom spoke to Mike.
Mr. Winterbottom: Sal is like another member of the family.
Mrs. Winterbottom: You�re mad at me, aren�t you Phoebe?
Phoebe: Yes, I most certainly am.
Narrator: Phoebe took my sleeve and pulled me toward the door.
Phoebe: When you all decide exactly how many people are in this family, let me know.
Narrator: We stepped out on the porch just as Mrs. Partridge placed a white envelope on the steps.
Sal: Did you want something Mrs. Partridge.
Narrator: Mrs. Partridge put her hand to her lips.
Mrs. Partridge: Hmmmm.
Narrator: Phoebe snatched the envelope and ripped it open. She read it out loud.
Phoebe: �Don�t judge a man until you�ve walked two moons in his moccasins.�
Narrator: Mrs. Partridge turned to go.
Mrs. Partridge: Bye-bye.
Phoebe: Mrs. Partridge, we�ve already had this one.
Mrs. Partridge: I beg your pardon?
Phoebe: It was you, wasn�t it? You�ve been creeping around leaving these things, haven�t you?
Mrs. Partridge: Did you like them?
Narrator: As she stood there in the middle of the sidewalk, with her head tilted up at us, and that quizzical look on her face, she looked like a mischievous child.
Mrs. Partridge: Margaret reads them to me from the paper each day, and when there�s a nice one, I ask her to copy it down. I�m sorry I gave you that one about the moccasins already. My noggin forgot.
Phoebe: But why did you bring them here?
Mrs. Partridge: I thought they would be grandiful surprises for you � like fortune cookies, only I didn�t have any cookies to put them in. Did you like them anyway?
Narrator: Phoebe looked at me for a long minute. Then she went down the steps toward Mrs. Partridge.
Phoebe: Mrs. Partridge, when was it you met my brother?
Mrs. Partridge: You said you didn�t have a brother.
Phoebe: I know, but you said you met him. When was that?
Narrator: Mrs. Partridge tapped her head.
Mrs. Partridge: Noggin, remember. Let�s see. Some time ago. A week? Two weeks? He came to my house by mistake. He let me feel his face. That�s why I thought he was your brother. He has a similar face. Isn�t that peculible?
Phoebe: No more peculible than most things lately.
Narrator: Mrs. Partridge tottered back to her house.
Phoebe: It�s a peculible world, Sal.
Narrator: Phoebe turned around and went into her house. I knew that was the right thing for her to do.
School of Library and Information Studies
TEXAS WOMAN'S UNIVERSITY