10 Years Ago Today: My Manny Career Ends

A few hours later, Loretta jumped up on the couch and started barking like crazy at the window.

“Mama’s home!  Mama’s home!”

Chuck started doing his “Mama’s Home! Dance”, running in circles and screaming at the top of his lungs.  I heard a car door shut and then, a few seconds later, the jangling of keys outside the front door.

“Well, hi everybody,” Beval said as she walked into the living room.  Loretta jumped up and down in front of her, and Chuck sprinted at her to give her a hug.  I leaned my head back so it was on the chair, and exhaled.

It was over.

I was done.

I walked three blocks over to Metropolitan and Powers, where I decided to finish the job in style by calling a car to take me home.

“Hello, Metroline.”

“Hi, I’m at Metropolitan and Powers.”

“Where you going?”

“Metropolitan and Wythe.”

“Five minutes.”

I put the phone back in my pocket and waited on the corner.  I began to think about The Dell, with everyone loving to hear how I watched Chuck, and I remembered Charlie Brown saying something about a book.  Hell, maybe I should write that book.  Instead of worrying about making something out of myself, maybe I already had.  Maybe in our three years together, I’d grown as much as Chuck had – at worst, him showing me that I didn’t have to be a loser for the rest of my life might have been the one small step that would make all the difference.  As I looked across the thick, hazy street, images of our days together began rolling in front of me like an old film.  I saw him getting bigger, talking and laughing, going from a pile of skin that did nothing but sleep and cry to a grown boy; by the end of the movie, I was shocked at how much he’d changed.  And in every image, I was with him.  And he was with me.  He was my best friend.

Suddenly I ran around the corner as fast as I could and crouched down with my back against a brick building, squatting as if I was a catcher.  I crossed my arms on my knees, laid my head on my arms, and cried without control.