I am so upset I cannot remember the number for Holsted’s. Cherry has to look it up in the phone book. I do not know why Cherry started to cry. I am the one who is hurt. When Keith peels into the parking lot with Yo, she hangs the CLOSED sign on the door and locks the store. She rides with us to the hospital and pats my shoulder the whole way. I do not tell her that makes it hurt worse.
Keith and Cherry talk while I get my X-ray. It is so cool. They have a big machine that takes a picture of inside my arm. The colors on my skin are blue and red, but I do not have a broken bone. The doctor gives me a sling anyway, which is cool. He tells me it is a bad sprain and that I am lucky. I know this. I know I am lucky.
“That’s what the L stands for,” I try to say after the doctor gives me a shot. But it comes out like “Thash wash the ell shtanns foorrr.”
I cannot talk.
After we pick up my pain pills at the pharmacy, Keith drives us to Denny’s. We have an early dinner together. I lean back against the booth while Keith and Cherry talk.
“I can’t believe I did what I did. I know it was stupid.” Cherry’s voice is fuzzy and far, far away.
“We all do stupid things, but really, what else were you gonna do? You’re quite a gal.” Keith takes two pills out of my bottle and swallows them with his beer. “Quite a gal.” He takes a hand and lifts Cherry’s hair out of her face. “You’ve got beautiful eyes. Anybody ever tell you that you have beautiful eyes?”
Cherry sounds like Gigi when she whines to go outside. I want to say, Let her out, or something to make her feel better, but my words will not come out right. All I can say is sorry, but it comes out as uhhuhh.
“Per’s flying high. Aren’t you, Per?” Keith laughs.
“Uhhuhh?” I try to say what do you mean or maybe I guess so or maybe Gram. I do not know. I do not care.
“It’s just so bizarre I can defend Perry, but I can’t defend myself against my dad. Way he looks when he drinks, the yelling, and when he gets angry he smacks me around.” Cherry’s voice is there, but I have many ears. Many, many ears and no eyes.
My body is on Keith’s boat. I feel it rocking. I try to tell Keith. “Uhhuhh.”
“You tell me when that happens! Day or night, you let me know! Nobody deserves that shit! Nobody! You hear me? Where do you live anyway?” Keith’s words are mad, but they come out soft. Like a hug. I feel Cherry’s smile, but my eyes are closed. I just feel her smile and it makes me warm. Their voices murmur and surround me like a blanket.
I love Cherry. She saved my life.
27
LOTTERY WINNER ASSAULTED AT MARINA HANDY MART WHERE TICKET WAS PURCHASED
That was the headline in the paper. The next part made me really upset.
RETARDED MAN ATTACKED BY THUGS: THREE ARRESTED
“I am not retarded,” I tell Keith. “I am not retarded. My number is 76. They lied. Can I sue?”
“Why do you want to do that?” Keith is dense sometimes.
“They lied. It’s a mistake. I’m not retarded, I’m slow.” I am embarrassed. I hope Cherry does not see the paper. Gary listens to us talk from the back office. The door is open.
“If people sue other people each time somebody lies or makes a mistake we won’t get any work done at all. You want to call the paper? Make them print a retraction? You can do that, but it’ll just make a mountain out of a molehill,” Gary says, and sniffs his nose bottle. He is practical. That means he thinks other people should not get upset. I bet he wouldn’t be so practical if he was the one called retarded.
Whenever Gary says one thing, Keith does just the opposite.
“I think Per has a point. Hey, Per, gimme that article! What’s the phone number of the paper anyway?” Keith grabs the newspaper from my hand and walks over to the phone.
He must know how I feel. He is my friend.
“I’d like to talk to the reporter who wrote the piece on the lottery winner.” Keith uses his good voice first. He is on hold so long I have to help Manny restock the shelves. I can only use my good arm. My other one is in a sling and hurts. I take my pills only at night to help me sleep. If I take them during the day, it makes me even slower. They are almost gone because I am sharing them with Keith.
“Yeah. This is a friend of Perry Crandall and, yeah, I’ll hold.” Keith has to lean on the counter and all the customers have to go around him. Gary comes out from the back office to ring up.
“Keith, we need that phone. Don’t tie it up,” Gary warns.
“No I don’t want to e-mail! I have been on hold for thirty fucking minutes!” Keith can sound like he is yelling even though he talks normal.
“Watch your language, Keith!” Gary is waiting on Toby, who is a fisherman. I laugh because Toby swears far worse than Keith.
Keith ignores them. “Who do I need to talk to? Well, put her on!”
When it was time for me to get the sandwiches for lunch, Manny came with me because I could not carry them with only one good arm.
I buy everybody lunch on the days I work. It is so cool. I mean when a person can buy lunch for everybody, every day, it makes that person feel rich inside no matter how much money they have. That’s why I like to do it. It makes me feel rich.
“How you feeling, Perry?” Cherry talks to me while Manny picks up beer and soft drinks. The Gilly’s guy is making our sandwiches. We have to go back over and pick them up.
“Fine. I’m feeling fine.” There are at least twenty people in Marina Handy Mart all shaking Cherry’s hand and patting her on the back. She does not really have time to talk to me. Her hair is one more color than usual. Orange or maroon maybe. She is so beautiful, I just stare.
Manny carries the heavy stuff. “You like her, don’t you?” He has that weasel sound in his voice.
“Yeah.” I am uncomfortable telling him this.
When we get back to the store Gary is still waiting on customers. Keith hangs up the phone just as we walk up. He hands me a piece of paper with the name Marleen Rafters. There is a phone number written underneath.
“She’s a top reporter. She’s going to do a story on us.” Keith looks excited. He has to pull up his pants twice.
“What kind of a story?” I hand him his sandwich. Keith does not look me in the eye and takes a big bite. He talks with his mouth full.
“You know, having money, being famous and all.”
It sounds like Keith would like to be famous and have his picture in the paper. I know how it is being famous now. I know how it is and I tell him that being famous is not all it’s cracked up to be.
“Be careful, Keith. It’s not what you think it is. It can be embarrassing. ” Keith does not look like he believes me.
“Don’t you want your picture in the paper?” he asks. Tuna pieces hang off his beard.
“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know.” I am confused. That is different from having my name on T-shirts, pens, and key chains. People would know my face.
Keith chews so loud I can hear his jaw crack.
I try to explain it to him and find the words I need out of my head. “It’s just that, before, people didn’t like me when they didn’t know me. Then other people decided they didn’t like me even when they did know me. Now it’s just the opposite. People like me and they don’t even know me at all. Sometimes they haven’t ever met me and they like me.” I am thinking about all the letters I get now. All the letters that people write asking me for things.
“It is the same thing, only the opposite of before,” I say. “The opposite of before.”
It is hard to put it into words. It is complicated. That means your feelings have many parts to them, but Keith seems to understand. A smile slowly comes across his face and he stops chewing.
It takes a lot to make Keith stop chewing.
“You’re wise, Per,” he says finally. “Fucking wise.”
"For a slow guy, you mean,” I correct him. “F-word wise for a slow guy.”
28
John and David come to visit Wednesday on my day off. T
hey have someone with them. I am doing laundry so I do not hear them knock. They walk right in. That is so rude.
“We need to talk. We saw the papers. This is exactly what we were telling you about. You need protection.” John is pacing. He talks softly but his fingers are bunched into tight fists. His face is shiny with sweat and there is white on his lips. I think it is from his Maalox.
“How is your arm?” David asks. He does not scare me as much as John does. There is a short, heavy man with black hair carrying a six-pack of Coke and a bag of potato chips. He hands me a can of Coke and offers me chips. I sit down on my couch. David stands in front of me. John paces. I think he will start biting his nails soon. The stranger sits next to me.
“This is our friend Mike Dinelli,” David says. “He will be coming around to check on you. He’s here for your protection.”
Mike grabs my hand and shakes it hard up and down. He is strong. His brown eyes look all shiny like chocolate pudding in the can, which I like because it is fast. You just have to pop the top off and use a spoon.
“How you doing, Perry? Good to meet you,” he says.
“Hello, Mike,” I say.
“I’ll be coming around to chat with you from time to time, Perry. See how you’re doing. Make sure you’re all right.” Mike’s teeth are small. Like Gigi’s.
“We worry that you may be attacked again,” David says.
“How come Keith or Gary didn’t help you out?” John asks. He is still pacing slowly. “If we had known about it we could have protected you. Maybe you can’t depend on those friends of yours,” he says. “You need to start depending on us more.”
This must be another Family Meeting, I think. Family Meetings should have all the family there. We are missing Louise, Elaine, and CeCe.
They start to talk among themselves.
Did you get the police record of the assault?
Why do we need that?
For evidence. To prove incompetence.
Can you leave that alone, John? Didn’t you listen to Elaine? We’re wasting time even thinking about it.
Listen to her and be pussy-whipped the way you are? No, thanks! What do you think I’m doing anyway? Sitting on my ass? Like you?
Screw you, John!
Screw you, David!
ENOUGH! Look, John. You played fast and loose with the wrong client’s money. David, we won’t stop with one brother if we see our way clear to get the other, if you get my drift. So you both need to get a grip and stop bickering. It won’t get you anywhere and you don’t need to frighten your brother. Am I making myself clear?
Mike rises, walks up to John, grabs his arm, and twists. John drops to his knees. David backs up. It is very interesting.
Now, I listened to you both. You assured me he would sign by now. It is obvious to me you don’t have the influence you think you do. It’s time for me to get involved. You need to do what I say, and stop wasting time arguing. If this doesn’t work out you are going to have much more to worry about than each other.
Capisce?
I do not know that word.
Capisce?
Mike says this again and releases John’s arm. He sits back down next to me. John and David close their mouths and nod their heads. Mike speaks in a whisper but I can hear him clearly. I feel shivers down my back.
Mike turns to me and smiles.
“Perry. I’m a financial adviser. Do you know what that is?” He leans back. “Nice couch,” he says, and pats the back. “This afghan looks homemade. It’s nice work. I have an aunt that crochets like this. Did your Gram make it? That’s her name right? Gram?”
Mike is cool. He likes Gram’s couch. He also likes Hershey’s Kisses. He is just like me except he has black hair, sunglasses, and wears polo shirts. We sit and talk while David and John look out my window and hiss at each other. They sound like hoses.
When they leave, I go back downstairs.
“Who were your visitors?” Manny asks loudly. He is so nosy.
“Visitors? What visitors?” Gary’s head lifts up.
“Probably those fucking brothers of his again,” Keith snorts. “Am I right, Per?”
“No, there was also a guy named Mike,” I say.
Gary and Keith sit with me in the back office, while Manny is in charge at the front of the store watching the register.
“You’re so suggestible, Perry.” Gary says this just like Gram used to.
“Damn right!” Keith pounds the desk with his fist. It does not scare me. Keith likes to pound tables with his hand. That is how he broke it once. His hand, not the table.
He comes over to me and says, “You have to not talk with your brothers or let them into your house unless one of us is around! Okay?” He holds my cheeks together just like Gram.
“They’re my cousin-brothers,” I tell him.
“Keith, you may be overreacting,” Gary says.
“And you may be fucking naive,” Keith says. He squeezes my face harder. “Just be careful, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, and laugh because he still has a hold of my face and it is hard talking through fish lips.
Gary hands me a piece of paper at the same time Keith lets go of me.
“Here, Per, I have your new phone number. It’s unlisted.”
“I don’t want a new number. I like my old one. It’s got only twos, threes, and eights.” I am upset. It takes me a long time to not forget my numbers.
“Complete strangers are calling collect and you’re accepting all the charges! The bill last month was over eight hundred dollars! The apartment phone is a Holsted number. It goes to the company. I had to change it and pay extra to have it unlisted. Here. I wrote it down for you.” Gary puts the paper in my hand and closes my fingers around it.
“This is such a gyp! Those people said they knew me!”
“Get back to work.” Gary waves me out of the office. I put the paper into my pocket and go back to work unpacking boxes. Taking advantage is something other people do a lot of. I grumble to myself and complain.
It is good nobody can read my mind.
29
There is a lot of unpacking to do, and it gives me ideas for where to put things on the shelves so they are easier to find. This cheers me up.
“We need to put the covers and short lines by the fenders. It makes it easier,” I say to Manny.
He just says, “Whatever.” And gives me his nasty look. I know he does not like to listen to me. He walks away even though there are still three more boxes to unpack.
I make a little place and organize fender covers by color and size. I look for a piece of cardboard and some colored markers to make a sign.
DON’T FORGET! I write big block letters. DO YOU HAVE LINES? And then underneath, DO YOU HAVE COVERS? YOUR FENDERS WILL LAST LONGER IF YOU DO. This is true. Gramp told me. I do not have room for anything else and I tack up my sign with a strip of duct tape.
Manny snickers and rolls his eyes at me. I stick my tongue out at him and quickly walk back to where Keith stands behind the counter so he won’t come after me.
I heard Gary complaining to Manny three days later.
“Where’d all the lines and fender covers go? I can’t find any more in the back.”
“Perry moved them by the fenders. Talk to him.” Manny looks like he hopes I will get into trouble. But I know I won’t. The fender covers are all gone. Sold. Two customers told me it reminded them they needed new lines too, and thanked me.
“We sold out,” I say to Gary. He looks at my signs, then at me, and then back at my signs.
“This is a really good idea.” He sounds surprised. “How about we order some more?”
“I already did.” I have good ideas. Gary and Keith both say so.
During lunch, I have some more ideas.
“People like to eat and drink when they buy things,” I announce.
“How do you figure?” Gary usually eats his lunch at his desk. Sandy, his wife, always tries to make him eat healthy and fixes hi
m salads in plastic bowls.
“That’s fucking rabbit food, Gary. Eat like a real man!” Keith says, and buys him a Gilly’s BLT, then threatens to tattle on him after he eats it.
After unpacking boxes all morning, I was too busy doing trash duty to go buy our sandwiches. I gave Keith a fifty-dollar bill and he went to Marina Handy Mart and then to Gilly’s. He was gone for a long time. He brought me back a fake crab sandwich.
“At the grocery store customers buy stuff and walk around eating it and then they have cups in their cars and McDonald’s and stuff. People eat all the time.” I say this to Gary while I eat. Gram said eating was for mealtimes and at tables. I do not eat when I shop. Gram would not like it.
“Kitchen tables, Perry! That’s what kitchen tables are for!” Gram said. Gram and I ate only at our kitchen table unless we went out to somebody’s house and then we ate at theirs.
“He’s got a point.” Keith pulls open a beer and it makes a pop sound. Gary sticks his lip out. He looks like the boxer, Tandy, from Carroll’s Boatyard, except he is not brown and white, and he is alive. Tandy was hit by a car last year and died. I liked Tandy.
Keith does not let me drink beer because Gram told him not to. Gary lets Keith drink one beer for lunch, but I know he drinks more outside Marina Handy Mart because Cherry tells me.
“I swear if you give my grandson any alcoholic beverage I will lambaste you from breakfast to Sunday!” Whenever Gram called me her grandson in front of Keith, we both knew she was serious. Lambaste means beat up. It does not have anything to do with lambs or with cooking. I do not drink alcoholic beverages because they taste like crap, Gram said.
“Drinking is something other people do a lot of.” Gram would preach like she was Father Jacob.
“If you drink too much and are rich, then you are an alcoholic. If you drink too much and are poor, you’re a drunk. Being an alcoholic is a disease and being a drunk is because you’re weak and have regrets. Our friend Keith is a drunk,” she would say.
After lunch, I take pieces of my sandwich and feed the birds. Nobody likes it when I do this. I do not know why. Birds have to eat too, especially seagulls. They eat a lot. I watch them fight with each other over my sandwich. One big white-and-gray one looks like the meanest and has a hook and line on his foot. I try to pull it off, but he flutters away, flapping his wings.
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