Paul Kelly
Other People’s Houses
His mother always let him stay up late on Fridays
They would lie in her room together watching TV
Sometimes she fell asleep before he did and he'd be watching a talk show - one person talking, then another, then all this laughter coming from nowhere
Next thing he knew she would be shaking him gently
'Wake up little one, wake up'
Saturday morning
So he'd get up, dress himself, put his shoes on and leave the house without breakfast
Breakfast always came later in other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
They had to catch two buses to reach their destination and the trip seemed to take forever unless he fell asleep along the way
When they got off at their stop they were in a bigger, brighter neighbourhood
All the houses were a long way back from the street and some of them were hidden from view by big hedges
Looking down the street was like looking through the wrong end of a telescope
His mother guided him through this country
She knew exactly where to go
She carried in her bag a big, heavy ring full of keys - all keys to other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
She would turn one of the keys in the lock
Some of the doors needed two keys
Then presto, they were in
The houses had so many things in them yet still so much space
And carpet that went on forever
He liked to rub his feet quickly on the thick pile then touch a door knob with one finger and give himself a small electric shock
In the first house they always went straight to the refrigerator. There were things in there he couldn't imagine anyone ever eating - strange looking pastes in jars and horrible concoctions in plastic. His mother would sit him down with a jam sandwich and a glass of milk, then set to work cleaning other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
And so they would go all Saturday long from one house to another, his mother mopping, vacuuming, scrubbing, cleaning, tidying up, leaving him to his own devices
Often if no-one was home, she would play music on the stereo. There was one record she always put on and sang along to
It had two men and two women on the cover and they all looked sort of blonde except one of the women had dark hair
The stereo flickered like the controls of a spaceship
Other houses were full of books and sometimes he was allowed to take one of the books down from the shelves and open it up. There were books on war and cricket and movie stars
He liked to look at the pictures and pick out big words that he knew
He was very careful with the books
He was very careful with everything in other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Some of the houses had other children in them
They would rush right past him into the yard
He'd follow them out back where the backyard was as big as the house, sometimes even bigger
He'd play with them for a while then sit on the steps watching them
He felt slower than the others
There was a girl about his age who lived in a house they went to every second Saturday
Her name was Stephanie. She used to take him with her everywhere she went, all around the house, even into her room. He'd never see his mother until it was time to leave
One Saturday his mother told him Stephanie and her family had moved away
Just like that
He still thinks of her now, twenty years later, moving, laughing, sitting down to dinner, making conversation, making love in other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses
Other people's houses