35
People would ask Gram questions.
Didn’t his mother know?
Was she over forty?
Didn’t she get tested?
Terminate? Couldn’t she terminate?
Gram would get angry. “So you’d kill him just because he’s slow? You’d do that?”
My first IQ number test was not good. It came out a bad number and both Gram and Gramp were upset. Gram asked me about it and I told her. Two things. First, I was scared. I thought I was in trouble. And second I had to pee really, really bad. I was worried that I would wet my pants and the other kids would laugh. I could not concentrate. Concentrate means do your best job. I could not do my best job. When my IQ number was not good, I could not be in class with Kenny and the other kids. Gram helped me with my homework.
“You’re slow, Perry! There’s not a goddamned thing wrong with you that time won’t fix.” When Gram clicked her tongue this time, it sounded like the sprinkler at school. She tried to make my teacher give me the number test again, but she said no.
The IQ score will not change appreciably from one test to another. There’s a range of about ten percent. My teacher did not want to give me another test.
Gram was mad. “You mean to tell me you could be wrong? His test could be ten points higher?”
“That is unlikely.” People say this when they are wrong and they don’t want to argue anymore.
It was different with my next teacher, Miss Elk. She helped me take a new number test. She told me I could be anything I wanted. She said if I did not want to be retarded, then I did not have to be. I stayed after school and practiced doing tests until I was not scared. She told me how important IQ number tests are. I tried hard to do my best job. My number came out 76. It was bigger than 75. It was a good number, Gram said. The best number, and she and Gramp cheered.
We were happy, but the school did not care. They said the second test did not count, and took me out of Miss Elk’s class and put me in inclusion. I cried every day. Then Gram said I didn’t have to go to school anymore.
I told this to Keith when he asked. We talked about lots of things. About school. About what I like to eat. About sailing. He is my friend. Friends want to know all about you.
“Gram was a good teacher. She didn’t mind that I was slow, but lots of people do.” I name each one. I know them all by heart.
“First, there is the bus driver. He gets cranky if you do not get your bus pass out fast enough or have the right change. Then there is the grocery store lady at checkout in the fifteen-things-or-less line.” I have to take deep breaths because it is hard to talk about being slow.
“If you are in that line and lose track of how many things you have, maybe you have extra milks or orange juice, and people think you are retarded, they stare at you and say mean things. If you have twenty things and go in the fifteen-things-or-less line and you are in a suit and talking on your cell phone and look very important, then you are just rude. That is okay. It is better to be rude than retarded,” I tell him.
I explain things to Keith that he did not know. He did not know there are many numbers that mean retarded. Retarded is lower than 70 or it can be lower than 75.
But it is not 76. It is never 76.
36
I like the walk to Marina Handy Mart. It calms me down. I can think. Sometimes I hum. There is a sidewalk the whole way and it is easy to get to anytime of the day or night. It is close to the water. I sometimes go there to get Chef Boyardee ravioli for dinner. Ravioli are little meat pieces in dough covered with spaghetti sauce. They taste good, are easy to fix, and are better than SpaghettiOs. You just put them in a pan and heat them up until you see little tiny bubbles. It is important to not look too close because they explode and hit your face and hurt. Kind of like backwards pimples. When I walk in the Marina Handy Mart door, the bell tinkles.
“Hey, Cherry!” I call.
Cherry can make anybody feel better. She is so pretty. I want to ask her if she is my girlfriend today, but I stop when I see her. Something is very wrong. She is slumped behind the cash counter crying. I can tell because her eyes are red and there is snot hanging from her nose ring. She has a Kleenex and is blowing, which is good.
“Hey, Perry.” When she wipes her face, I can see she has purple and blue all around one eye and a long scrape on her cheek. It looks like my arm after I got beat up.
“Cherry. Wow! Did you get in an accident?” Maybe she was in a car wreck. If she was in a car wreck, she would be lucky to be alive. Car wrecks can be very bad. You can die in a car wreck.
“No. Well. Yeah. Yeah, I guess you could say that.” She blows her nose again and sounds like a duck, or maybe a goose like at Woodland Park Zoo. “My life is a car wreck,” and she starts crying again hard.
“Please don’t cry, Cherry.” I pat her hand and her shoulder. She wipes her nose.
Boyfriends help girlfriends when they are in trouble but I do not know what to do.
I decide to buy lunch sandwiches from Marina Handy Mart instead of Gilly’s so I can talk to Cherry longer. Cherry walks with me to the back and helps me find the right sandwiches.
“Manny likes cheese. Do you have cheese?” I know they don’t have fake crab. They have tuna, which is okay. I like tuna. When I am done choosing sandwiches Cherry looks a little happier except for her black eye. She touches my hand when she gives me back my change.
“Thanks, Perry,” she says. “Thanks a lot.”
I walk back to work and wonder what kind of accident she had.
Keith is out of Gary’s office and standing talking to a customer when I carry the lunches into the back room. Manny is leaning against the wall reading the paper.
“Marina Handy Mart? I hate their sandwiches,” Manny complains. He always complains about Marina Handy Mart sandwiches, but he always eats his, even the crusts.
I can hear a man talking to Keith through the office door. His voice is loud and flat. Like the announcer guy on TV. I stand by the opening. I want to tell Keith about his sandwich, but I do not want to interrupt. It is not polite.
“So you know him?” the man says. He rolls an empty cart back and forth over the floor. The wheels go THWUNK. THWUNK. I wonder who the man is talking about.
“Yeah,” says Keith, “I know him.”
“Are you good friends?” The man looks over at me, then back at his cart, and then at Keith. He looks like Manny except he has silver hair and bigger feet.
“Yeah, we’ve known each other for a long time.” Keith waves me over.
“It must be nice to have a friend who’s a millionaire,” the man says.
I get it. They are talking about me. I am embarrassed.
“Here, meet Perry Crandall. Perry, this is Ernie. Ernie, Perry.” Keith puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Nice to meet you, Ernie.” I hold out my hand.
Ernie looks from Keith to me. “Interesting. So . . . are you sharing your winnings with your family and friends?”
“Yeah, sure,” I say. Sharing is a good idea and it is a nice thing to do.
Keith sweeps the air with his hand. “Hey, he does what he wants.”
“I bet he does, I bet he does. Lucky you.” Ernie gives a sharp barking laugh. He walks to the door and shoves the cart with one hand. It crashes into the wall and bounces back.
“Hot damn!” says Keith. “Not only do people get excited to meet a lottery winner, they get excited to meet the friend of one. And jealous too.” He follows me into the back room to get his sandwich.
That is another thing. People are jealous of the lottery.
I did not buy Keith a beer. I only bought Cokes, but he did not seem to notice.
When I take a bite of my sandwich I remember to tell Keith something.
“Cherry has a black eye and scratched cheek,” I say.
“What? How?” Keith sits straight up.
“An accident,” I answer.
“Shit! God damn him!” Keith growls. He rips his s
andwich apart and shoves it into the trash. “I’ll be back!”
He sounds like Terminator. That is cool. I get up to follow. Maybe Keith has diarrhea. People leave a place real quick when they have the trots.
“Keith, you need Pepto-Bismol?” I ask. “I got Pepto-Bismol.”
But he does not say a word. He does not go into the bathroom.
Instead, he grabs his jacket off the wall and rushes out the front door.
37
When a dad beats up his daughter, he does not necessarily go to jail. But when a guy beats a dad up for beating up his daughter, they both go to jail. It is very confusing. A person only gets to make one phone call when they are arrested. I learned this from Keith. He was able to make one right away because Officer Ray Mallory recognized him at the station. Keith called me.
“I need to be bailed out. You need to pick me up. Yo’s over at Marina Handy Mart,” Keith says.
“I do not have a driver’s license,” I tell him.
“I know that. Cherry should be on her way. I need five hundred bucks. Bring your checkbook.”
Bail can be what you do to water that gets in your boat or it can be money to get out of jail. After I hang up the phone, there is a knock at my door. It is Cherry carrying a backpack.
“Perry. We have to get Keith out of jail.” She is panting from running up my stairs.
“I know. He called me,” I tell her. “I wonder what jail is like. It would be scary. I wonder if Keith is scared.”
“Nah! I don’t think Keith is scared of anything,” she says.
I am surprised Cherry knows where I live, but then I remember the time I got hurt at her store and she helped Keith bring me home. Her shirt is ripped on the bottom and her jeans drag on the floor. Her stomach hangs over her belt. It looks soft and white. There is a gold ring hooked through her belly button. She is so beautiful I can only just stare into her eyes. They are brown, red, and wet.
“I need to take Keith some money for bail,” I say.
“I can drive. We can take Yo. Keith threw his keys to me just before the cops took him.” Cherry sniffs and wipes her eyes with her sleeve. I think she should use a Kleenex because her black makeup is all over her shirt.
“I need someplace to stay,” she says. “I can’t go back home now. I can never go back.” She takes a breath like it is hard for her to talk. “I could only think of you or Keith. I have no one else I can ask. There is no one else.” She says this low, soft, and really fast. Her face is pointed down like she is sad, or like she expects me to say no.
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, you can stay here.”
Why would anyone say no, I wonder. I could never say no to Cherry.
She is shorter than me and looks like a kitten that needs to be held. Her foot scuffs my floor. Her toenails are painted purple. I think it is too cold to have feet showing through shoes, but Cherry looks like she does not mind.
“Let’s go get Keith.” When Cherry hears me say this, she drops her backpack on my floor and smiles. Her eyes are still wet, but her smile is so beautiful I cannot speak. My face feels hot. I bend down to tie my shoes, put on my jacket, and shove my wallet into my back pocket.
It is a good thing Cherry is with me because she is the one who has to figure out where the Everett Police Station is downtown. I do not know how to drive. I am impressed that Cherry can drive a stick shift. Yo shudders to a stop twice when she forgets to step on the clutch.
“It’s easy to get confused because there are three pedals down there, Cherry. You’re doing a good job.” It is important to tell people they are doing a good job.
She talks to me all the way to the station.
“I had just gotten off. I had early shift. I left right after you bought your sandwiches. My dad was already home from work. I didn’t expect him that early and I told him that if he touched me again I would call the police. For real this time. He thought I was kidding. He screamed at me and slapped me around so hard he gave me a bloody nose. I ran into the bedroom, grabbed the phone, and dialed nine-one-one. And then Keith just blew through our front door like the Hulk, fists flying! It was so awesome. He punched my dad in the face, threw him into the wall, and knocked him out. He was amazing.” Cherry sighs. “I was so bummed because I had already made my call. It was the first time I ever called the cops when he beat me. They took both Keith and my dad in.”
“I wish I had been there.” I missed everything. It would have been very exciting.
Cherry and I both like Hulk comics. We like Slurpees and Pay-Days too.
Officer Mallory recognizes Cherry and me, and takes us around personally while the other officers get Keith out of jail. He shows me how the fingerprint station works and I get black ink on my hands. He told me that they don’t usually take checks, but they know mine is good. That is so cool.
Keith is very glad to see us. He only has one tiny cut over his eye, a bump on his lip, and a bloody shirt.
“Hey thanks, Per.” Keith slaps me on the back. He says thank you ten more times. Cherry hugs Keith and says thank you about twenty times. I do not slap anybody on the back. I just pay Keith’s fine. Keith stuffs a bunch of papers in his pocket and we walk out to Yo. He slides into the driver’s seat and I squeeze next to Cherry by the passenger door. Nobody talks much on the way home. Cherry just sniffs every once in a while. She sounds like Gigi when she looks for food on the floor.
Gary is waiting for us in front of Holsted’s.
“What the hell is going on, Keith? I got a call from Ray Mallory! He said something about you being in a fight?”
“It’s taken care of. Don’t get your girdle in a knot.”
That is funny. Only girls wear girdles. Gary does not laugh and talks low to Keith, then drives away.
We stand in the parking lot looking at each other and then Keith tells us good night. He strolls to his boat patting his pockets. I can tell he is looking for his Camels. Cherry follows me upstairs to my front door. She keeps looking back at Keith as we climb the steps, but he does not turn around. She bites her lip while I unlock my door.
I give her a tour of my place.
“You can sleep in my bed and I can sleep on Gram’s couch. Here is my bathroom and a clean towel.” I have never had a guest before except Keith and I don’t tell him anything.
When I show her my TV, I can tell she is impressed.
“Oh, wow! That’s awesome!” And she runs her hand over the top just like I do when I can’t believe I finally have a TV.
I let Cherry take a shower first. She comes out with wet hair that snaps when she combs it. She wears pink sweatpants, a fleece shirt, and sits down on Gram’s sofa. I take my turn in the bathroom. When I come out in my pajamas and robe Cherry is standing at the window looking out. Keith is sitting in his cockpit smoking a cigarette. Diamond Girl is very still in the water. I can see her hull reflected in the smooth black surface like there are two boats. I am feeling strange as I stand next to Cherry. Kind of excited, nervous, bouncy. My hands are sweating. My privates are hard. I grab the blanket Gram made, wrap it around my middle, and lie down on the couch. I squeeze my eyelids shut tight. I do not know what else to do. Cherry walks into the bedroom.
As she passes me, she puts out her hand, pats my cheek, and says, “Night, Perry,” and “Thanks.” I hear the door shut and try to go to sleep. It takes me a long, long time. I can still feel her touch on my face. Noises echo through the wall and the clock in the kitchen is ticking. Click. Click. Click.
I must have gone to sleep because I had a dream-story about Cherry. She was crying and then laughing. I beat up her dad with one punch, but I did not go to jail. I was like the Hulk, only handsome and tall with yellow hair. In my dream-story, Cherry put one arm around my waist and touched my privates.
I do not remember anything that happened after that.
When I wake up, my pajama bottoms are wet, but I did not pee my pants.
Cherry is still asleep. My clothes from yesterday are still on my bathroom floor.
I put them on because I do not want to go into the bedroom for my clean ones.
I put my nightclothes in the washer, then make oatmeal and do my words.
I really, really like Cherry.
38
So you have a roommate now.” That is what Gary says. Then he always asks, "How’s it working out?”
I say fine, but it is not just me, it is Keith. We both have a roommate. It is like we share Cherry. She spends a lot of time on Diamond Girl. Cherry and Keith talk and smoke in his cockpit. She tells me that since I do not smoke it’s not fair for them to puff away in my apartment, but I tell them I do not mind. It reminds me of Gram except their cigarettes are not menthol, and they smoke more than just two.
Keith and I eat good dinners now. Cherry cooks Hamburger Helper, chili, Chicken Tenders, and makes us both eat salads. We have good desserts too, like Ho Hos, Twinkies, and canned pudding. She cleans my bathroom and mops my floor. It is so cool. I do not have to do anything. She even washes all our clothes. On Wednesday mornings, I have to remember to put all my dirty ones in the laundry bag.
“I am not searching through every frigging room in the apartment to find your wash, Perry!” Even when Cherry is pissed, she is beautiful. Pissed is not a bad word because you can say I have to take a piss or I am pissed off, or piss on it to make someone go faster.
She folds my clothes and everything. I only have to set the table. Keith eats with us every night. I tell Cherry I can cook, but she says she has to earn her keep. She still works at Marina Handy Mart, but I do not let her pay rent.
She is a hard worker like me. Sometimes she answers my phone.
“Who’s Elaine?” she asks me.
“My cousin-brother David’s wife.”
“She left a message for you. Says she has papers for you to sign. What’s her problem? She called me a slut on the phone. She doesn’t even know me! I hung up on her. What a bitch!”
When Keith and Cherry are on Diamond Girl, I go into my bedroom. Cherry has her things neatly folded in my dresser. We share, but I only go into the bedroom to look at Gram and Gramp’s boxes. When I miss them, I can bring them back by looking at pictures and sorting through their things. I spread everything around.
Lottery Page 17