There was a sweet almost soapy scent
\nthat drifted around the sixth step
\ndown into the basement;
\nyou could hear the furnace
\nswitch on and roar within its asbestos coat,
\nsending hot water up the pipes
\ninto the kitchen where mama baked,
\nand the upholstered, chintz-lamped,
\nantemacassared living room
\nwhere papa read the paper
\nand smoked cigars after supper.<\/p>\n
The sixth step was his.
\nHere he had, every night for years,
\npolished and shined papa’s shoes.
\nAfter work, Papa would place his shoes
\non the floor of his closet,
\nSonny would glide in after supper,
\ninsert the wood and metal shanked shoe trees,
\nand bring the day’s pair down to the sixth step.
\nHe would spread a newspaper on the step,
\ntake down the shoe kit,
\nsit on the eighth step,
\nand first scrub the dust
\noff the shoes with a soft bristle brush.
\nThen he would wipe each shoe with a cloth
\ndampened with his own spit,
\nthen pry open the can of wax
\nwhich would flood the sixth step with
\nits heady sweet nasal tune,
\nand with a soft flannel cloth,
\nhe would dab into the can, and carefully
\nspread the willing wax over the shiny leather.
\nAs he waited for the wax to give its oils to the shoes
\nhe would hum quietly to himself
\nsteeping in the satisfaction and anticipation
\nthat flowed around him sweetly like spring sap.
\nHe would take out the soft polishing brush
\nand buff the shoes quickly until they gleamed.
\nFinally, with the clean polishing flannel
\nhe would finish them off,
\nput away the kit and the newspaper,
\nand place the shoes in his papa’s closet.<\/p>\n
His papa never said a word about his shoes,
\nbut each week, on Saturday, a quarter
\nof a dollar would appear beside Sonny’s plate
\nat lunch.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There was a sweet almost soapy scent that drifted around the sixth step down into the basement; you could hear the furnace switch on and roar within its asbestos coat, sending hot water up the pipes into the kitchen where … Continue reading