Hit the Road, Manny

by Christian Burch

  Tony shook the manny’s hand and said, “I’m here for my son. He was just named Elementary School Teacher of the Year in his school district in Seattle.”

  “Wow, that’s great,” said the manny. “You must be very proud.”

  “Yes. He’s going to change the world…at least a little bit.” Then Tony threw a handful of peppermint candy out to a group of people sitting in lawn chairs on the street curb.

  Next to the people in the lawn chairs was a group of people holding black signs with white writing on them and yelling things at the people in the parade.

  “YOU’RE DISGUSTING!” yelled a woman in a long dress, holding a sign that said NOT HERE! THIS IS GOD’S LAND!

  Another man held a sign that said GOD HATES WHAT YOU DO!

  Tony and some others yelled back, but not meanly. They yelled, “Peace and understanding! Have a good day!” and kept waving and smiling.

  “FAGGOTS!” the man yelled back.

  I had heard that word before and knew that it was hateful, even more hateful than “queer.” I looked up at the manny’s eyes to see if he had heard. He looked like he couldn’t breathe or like he might throw up. Like if he exhaled, his tear dam would break. That’s what India calls it when welled-up eyes turn into flowing streams of tears. It happened to her at Grandma’s funeral when Uncle Max told the story about how Grandma had told him he was “opening up her whole life” when he told her he was gay.

  Tony must have noticed the manny’s eyes too.

  “Don’t let them get to you,” he said. “They don’t understand how hateful they sound. They haven’t educated themselves yet.” The manny smiled and nodded, but his eyes were watery. Then my eyes got watery. I turned around and hugged the manny around his waist, pressing my head against his stomach. He hugged me back around my head. Then the manny let go of me and started waving and smiling to the people holding the signs.

  I reached into the bucket of peppermint candy and threw a handful on the ground in front of the picketers. I thought about throwing them really hard right at their heads, but I didn’t. The woman in the long dress bent down, picked one up, and unwrapped it. She looked up at me as she put it in her mouth.

  I smiled at her and waved and wondered how uncomfortable her skin must be to walk around in that it would make her so mean.

  I took the postcard that I was going to send to Uncle Max and wrote one to the manny and put it on his pillow that night while he was in the bathroom brushing his teeth.

  Dear Manny,

  I think you are very brave.

  I love you.

  Keats

  24Barf du Soleil

  Before we left Salt Lake City, we swam in the swimming pool at Little America one last time so Belly wouldn’t throw a tantrum, or as I heard Mom say, so Belly would “get tired and sleep most of the way to Las Vegas.” Lulu didn’t swim. She sat on the side with her legs in the pool and read a USA Today article about Katie Couric, the news anchor. Katie Couric is one of Lulu’s heroes. I read it in the hero list in her diary. She was right under Eleanor Roosevelt and right above Amelia Earhart.

  Mom and Dad had taken us to eat breakfast in the cafeteria, but we ate really fast so that we could get one more swim in. The manny shoved two pieces of sausage in his mouth, storing some in his cheeks while he chewed. Mom told him to slow down and set a good example after Belly started eating right off the plate without a fork so she could finish fast. I love it when the manny gets in trouble from Mom. He pushes his bottom lip out and pouts.

  Mom almost didn’t let Belly come swim with us because she gargled her orange juice at the table the way Dad does with mouthwash every morning. I kind of hoped Mom wouldn’t let Belly come swimming, because she screams and does cannonballs the whole time and drives away the other families. Mom did let her. I think Mom probably needed a break from Belly. We all need breaks from her sometimes. India says that Belly is “cute, but she is always up in your grill.” Your grill is your face.

  India practiced her water ballet by pointing her toes and straight legs out of the water. She kicked them and then went underwater and came up with her fluttering hands. She started doing it after she saw her friends doing synchronized swimming at the Golf and Tennis swimming pool. I can’t remember the friends’ first names. Everybody just calls them the Binger sisters, and they always wear matching swimsuits and go everywhere together, even to the bathroom. They synchronize everything. India must think that the Binger sisters are a Glamour Do, because she’s always copying them.

  While India held on to the edge of the pool and practiced her toe point in the air, the manny stood in the pool and judged Belly’s and my splashes from cannonballs and screwdrivers. My splashes were bigger, but every once in a while the manny would tell Belly that she had won, and then he’d wink at me so I’d know he was just making her feel good. He even pretended to drown from one of Belly’s splashes.

  “You nearly killed me!” he screeched, coughing, spitting water, and flailing around.

  One of Belly’s splashes was big. So big that it splashed Lulu and her USA Today newspaper that she was reading.

  “You got Katie Couric all wet,” she said, pointing to the picture that had a big, wet splotch right under Katie Couric’s chin, which made it look like a beard.

  “Gosh, she really looks like Matt Lauer with that beard,” the manny joked. Matt Lauer used to be Katie Couric’s cohost on the Today show. He’s the one that Tom Cruise called “glib” on television. I think “glib” must mean “tall and handsome.”

  Lulu didn’t think the manny was funny. She pulled her feet out of the water and walked over to a chair that was far enough away that Belly couldn’t splash liver spots all over Katie’s face. Or at least that’s what the manny said.

  Belly was OC at the pool. That’s what the manny calls “out of control.” She wouldn’t just swim around nicely. She kept screaming, “WATCH THIS!” and she’d do a belly flop; or, “TEACHER’S SEAT!” and she’d jump in with her legs crossed and her back straight, like she thought teachers sit. She even mooned India when India told her that she was being inconsiderate to the other swimmers.

  There weren’t many other swimmers. Just a dad with a hairy chest teaching his baby how to swim. The baby was just giggling and laughing when the dad would take him under the water. Then, when he came up, he’d scream with excitement and look like his eyes were going to pop out of his head. They kept moving to other spots in the swimming pool because Belly would get closer and closer to them, trying to splash the baby to make him laugh.

  Mom and Dad walked over to the pool after they had finished breakfast.

  “WATCH THIS!” Belly screamed so loudly that the entire pool area looked over at her.

  She ran as fast as she could toward the pool. When she got to the edge of the pool, she got a look of terror on her face. Belly’s toes left the concrete right as she opened her mouth and threw up into the swimming pool. It landed in the water, and then she landed in the water…right on top of her own throw-up. Little bits of eggs Benedict and toast and bright orange liquid flew into the air. Some floated on the top of the pool. The dad and his baby quickly walked up the steps and started to dry off.

  I swam to the edge and pulled myself out of the pool before Belly even came up for air. The manny ran through the water to grab Belly and pull her out. When Belly came up from underneath the water, she was already sobbing and her face was bright red.

  “AAAAAHHHHHHHH!” she wailed so loudly that the swimming baby started to cry too. The dad wrapped him in a fluffy white towel, and they hurried to their hotel room.

  “Come here, sweetie,” Mom said, taking Belly into a towel too and holding her the way you rock a baby. Belly kept wailing. I kept trying not to look at the barf floating on top of the swimming pool. I tried not to look at the barf on the manny’s chest. Lulu wasn’t looking. She had the Katie Couric article covering her face. She says she has a weak stomach and can’t stand to see or hear other people throw up. She once spent a
school day in the principal’s office organizing his personal library because a boy threw up in her classroom and the janitor came and put that pink powder on it and let it sit for a while. Even after it was all cleaned up, she refused to go back to the classroom. Instead she sat at the principal’s big oak desk and helped him answer e-mails from concerned parents about dress codes and the school lunch program.

  The hotel management didn’t sprinkle pink powder on Belly’s throw up in the pool. Instead they told Mom that they would have to drain the pool and fill it back up with new water.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mom apologized.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said the hotel manager. “It happens all the time.”

  “Ewwww!” India and I said at the same time, and looked at each other.

  Belly was still crying when we got into the RV to drive toward Las Vegas. Lulu tried to make her feel better by saying, “That article about Katie Couric sure was interesting. Did you know that she threw up in a swimming pool a few summers ago while they were filming a special wedding segment for the Today show?”

  Belly stopped crying. “Really?” she said, even though she probably didn’t know who Katie Couric was.

  “Yep,” said Lulu. “She just cleaned herself off and moved on with her life. Barf happens.” Then she shrugged.

  The manny giggled with his shoulders when Lulu said “Barf happens.”

  Belly dried off her tears with her hands and tried to move on with her life.

  I grabbed the paper and scanned the article but didn’t see anything about Katie Couric barfing in a swimming pool. When I looked at Lulu, she rolled her eyes at me. I guess Lulu was just being kind.

  Dear Uncle Max,

  VEGAS HERE WE COME! Dad won’t stop doing his Elvis impressions. Belly keeps copying him. She’s better than he is. I heard Lulu talking to you on the telephone. Why were you talking to her? I’m not being nosy. I’m just practicing my journalism skills like Katie Couric.

  When happy in Vegas, stay in Vegas,

  Keats Rufus Dalinger

  Dear Sarah,

  You’re never going to believe what happened. Belly projectile vomited into the hotel swimming pool while she was in midair, and then she landed in it. The manny called it “Barf du Soleil,” but not in front of Belly because she’s embarrassed about it. India says that we left “the mark of the Dalingers” on Salt Lake City, but I don’t know what she means by that.

  Do you think we could sell Belly on eBay? Opening bid: 30 cents.

  I’ll write you from Las Vegas,

  Keats

  25Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner

  Glass flowers hang from the ceiling of the hotel Bellagio in Las Vegas. It’s a sculpture by a guy named Chihuly. India counted the different colors while Mom and Dad checked into the hotel. Lulu kept rereading parts of To Kill a Mockingbird. Belly was staring at a lady in a wheelchair who reminded me of Grandma before she died. She smelled like Estee Lauder and had silver bracelets and necklaces on that matched her shiny wheelchair. She must have reminded Belly of Grandma too, because Belly grabbed ahold of the lady’s hand while I asked her questions. “What is your favorite color?” “What is your favorite five o’clock cocktail?” I used to carry Grandma’s five o’clock cocktail out to her every evening when Grandma lived in the hospital bed in our living room before she died.

  The lady in the wheelchair answered, “Light blue,” and, “Gin and tonic on the rocks with a squeeze of lime.” Just like Grandma.

  Belly climbed up in her lap and asked for a ride around the lobby.

  “Belly, no!” scolded Lulu, holding her place in To Kill a Mockingbird with her finger. “I’m sorry,” she apologized.

  “Don’t be,” the lady in the wheelchair said. “You keep reading your book. I’ll entertain this pretty young lady.”

  “I’m pretty,” Belly said, nodding her head and agreeing with the lady in the wheelchair. She didn’t say it in her foghorn voice, and she didn’t call herself “her.” She used a really calm voice like she had good manners and was polite. The lady probably had no idea that at any minute Belly might ask her to pull her finger, like she did to Dad’s boss at last year’s office Christmas party. Dad’s boss joked that maybe Dad could use his bonus to send Belly off to finishing school.

  The lady started rolling her wheelchair through the lobby, while Belly raised her hands in the air and said, “Whee!” like she was on a roller coaster ride. The lady looked like she was on a ride too. Her cheeks were red and she had a big smile on her face.

  The manny followed them, probably to make sure Belly didn’t steal the lady’s purse or steer the wheelchair into a fountain. She didn’t. She just rode nicely like a normal little girl. I’ve never seen her act like a person before. She usually acts like a wild animal or a dog from the pound. Belly even kissed the lady in the wheelchair on the cheek and thanked her for the ride before she climbed down, grabbed Mom’s hand, and walked with us to the elevators.

  Belly returned to being a wild animal again when we got to the floor that our hotel room was on. She jumped out of the elevator, screamed, and ran down the long hallway and tried to do cartwheels. They looked more like donkey kicks, though, because her legs didn’t go over her head. They just went sideways into the air, and then she’d say, “TAA-DAA!”

  “Shhhhh!” Mom told her, but it was too late. The door across from where we were entering our room opened up a crack and somebody yelled, “Quiet down, you pesky kids!” in a really mean voice.

  “OOOOOOO! GRUMPY!” Belly said, the same way the manny does to her when she’s grumpy. The manny covered up Belly’s mouth gently with his hand.

  “We’re very sorry, sir…,” the manny started to apologize to the partially cracked door. Just then the door opened up all the way and Uncle Max was standing there. Uncle Max was here! The manny leaped at him and squeezed a hug around his neck, the same way I do to Mom and Dad when they come back from a long trip.

  “IT’S UNCLE MAX THAT’S THE GRUMPY OLD MAN!” yelled Belly.

  “Usually,” said the manny, joking. I started jumping up and down and gave Uncle Max a hug too. So did India. Lulu, Mom, and Dad did too, but it was strange—they didn’t act nearly as surprised to see him.

  We started asking Uncle Max all kinds of questions.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “How are the paintings going?”

  “Why does the manny call you Sugar Bear?”

  We went into Uncle Max’s room and collapsed on his bed and in the chairs. There was a bouquet of flowers and a card on the table by the bed. They were dark burgundy calla lilies, the manny’s favorite. The manny opened up the envelope, read the card, and smiled really big. He gave Uncle Max another hug and whispered something to him. I didn’t even try to hear what it was because it wasn’t my business, but I bet it was, “Nobody puts Baby in a corner.” The manny’s always saying that. It’s his favorite line from Dirty Dancing.

  Dear Sarah,

  Uncle Max is here! The manny is so happy! And I am too.

  The manny says that when he dies, he wants his ashes spread over the fountains of the Bellagio while they play the song “Time to Say Goodbye” by Andrea Bocelli. Uncle Max said that he wants his whole body dropped from a helicopter into the fountains during the finale of “Hey, Big Spender.” Mom told them that she’s probably just going to flush them both down the toilet when they die, like we did India’s goldfish, John. The manny says it’s ironic that his name was John and he got flushed down the john.

  Vegas, baby!

  Keats

  Mini-Me26

  Lulu, India, and I are sharing a hotel room, and Belly is sharing with Mom and Dad. Our hotel rooms join together with a door. Lulu wants to keep it closed, but Mom and Dad are making her keep it open to make sure that we don’t order room-service chocolate malts or rent an R-rated movie off the television. I’ve seen only one R-rated movie. It was called Billy Elliot, and Mom rented it for us one night. She had seen it in the thea
ter and thought it had a good message. It’s about a little boy who wants to go to the Royal Ballet School to become a dancer even though his father doesn’t think boys should do ballet. His father changes his mind at the end and is proud when Billy is the star of an all-male version of the ballet Swan Lake. Mom cried at the end. She also cried at the end of Finding Nemo when Nemo and his father see each other again.

  The manny is sharing the room with Uncle Max across the hall. They slept late this morning because they went out to a late dinner last night. India said that they are probably tired because they drank too much wine. I put a chair up next to our door so that I could stand on it to see through the little eyehole. Whenever I heard a noise or movement in the hallway, I ran over to see if it was the manny and Uncle Max. I saw the housekeeper. I saw room service. I saw a dressed-up woman with fancy jewelry pick her nose. She must have forgotten that people can see her through the peepholes in their doors.

  When they did finally come out of their room, Uncle Max was wearing a crisp white shirt and jeans, and the manny was wearing a black Lacoste golf shirt and khaki pants with a striped belt. I saw what they were wearing and ran to the closet to change. I was definitely underdressed for what we were going to do today. Maybe we were going to have lunch at Siegfried and Roy’s mansion. I bet the manny knows them. I had on an “I NY” T-shirt that Dad had brought me from a business trip, but I changed into my black Lacoste golf shirt. Mine isn’t really Lacoste, but it is black. Lulu called me Mini-Me for the rest of the day, but the manny said that “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” He told me that the clothing designer Zac Posen is always imitating his style for his fashion line and that’s why “young Hollywood looks so put together these days.” India said that if Zac Posen really imitated the manny’s style, there would be a lot more women with shaved heads, leather loafers, and patches of hair on their chins that they missed while shaving, a definite Glamour Don’t. She said Zac Posen is always a Glamour Do, even when he wears a metallic gold sport coat.