I stopped trying to find round, smooth rocks and started to look for rocks that were shaped like different states. I have a collection of twenty-four state-shaped rocks. I even have the Hawaiian Islands.
I found Oklahoma and shoved it into my pocket.
When we got home, we ate dinner and waited for the sun to go down. We had to wait until Grandma would let Dad close the curtains before we could start planting the surprise garden. We didn’t want her to see us. This meant we had to use flashlights and whisper like we were spies.
Finally the sun was going down, and Grandma and Belly were drifting to sleep in the big, shiny hospital bed. The manny grabbed flashlights, and we began the transformation. First we planted our own private flowerpots and placed them along the porch right outside of Grandma’s window. We tiptoed. Then we dug all the sand out of the tractor tire and replaced it with soil that we had bought in bags. The manny tripped over the tire and fell right on his back with a thud. I tried to cover my laughter so that I wouldn’t wake Grandma up, but it made me have to go to the bathroom.
My first pee in Grandma’s new garden.
While I tried to control my laughter, we planted the hydrangea bush in the middle of the tire. Lulu and the manny began to arrange different flower beds, using the river rocks as the edges. They left enough room so that Grandma’s wheelchair could roll through the middle. Lulu kept telling the manny what to do, like she was in charge. The manny didn’t look like it bothered him. His face stayed calm. He says that he’s really good at looking “collected,” and that’s why he has a good chance of winning the National Poker Finals next year in Las Vegas.
We planted the rosemary, the mint, and the rest of the flowers in the river-rock-lined beds.
Uncle Max brought over an old birdbath that he had found at a flea market. Uncle Max calls the stuff he buys at flea markets “treasures.” Grandma calls the stuff “trash.” The birdbath was painted white and had a fancy base on it. It reminded me of something that might have been in the Snow Queen’s garden from the Chronicles of Narnia. Last Christmas, India was in a play called The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe that was based on the Chronicles of Narnia. She played a little girl who was turned into a stone statue. Every night after dinner she practiced standing completely still, even her face. She looked like the plastic mannequins from the front window of Saks Fifth Avenue. I tried to make her laugh by mooning her, but Mom told me to stop because I was teaching Belly inappropriate things. I got into big trouble during India’s performance because Belly turned around on her chair, pulled up her green velvet dress, and pulled down her white tights to moon India, who was up on the stage pretending to be a statue.
I said to Mom, “India was really good. She never even cracked a smile.”
Mom didn’t think my joke was funny. I had to unload the dishwasher for a whole month.
Once the birdbath was filled with water, the manny cooed like a dove and plunged his face into the water. Uncle Max laughed at the manny and rubbed the back of his hair the same way he rubs mine when I do something funny.
I was glad that Lulu didn’t see him do it, because I knew she’d write it in “The Manny Files.”
The manny and Uncle Max said that they would be back in the morning before Grandma woke up.
They left.
I hung my clothes for the next day on my clothes valet and wrote in my journal.
June 27
The manny was funny today at the nursery. He dragged his knuckles along the ground and went, “Oo, oo, ahh, ahhh, ahhh,” like an orangutan when he saw a banana plant. Lulu pretended to be with another family. A boy that she knew from school was in there with his mother. When they said hello to each other, the manny started whistling “Someday My Prince Will Come.” Lulu spent the rest of the time at the nursery behind a big lilac bush writing in “The Manny Files.”
We stopped at the Tastee-Freez to get ice cream, but I didn’t get out of the car. Craig was there. I saw him say hi to the manny, but I ducked down when he looked over at the Eurovan. I don’t think that he saw me.
Grandma will be so surprised tomorrow when she sees the garden that we planted for her. I bet it makes her feet warm.
Born on this day: Helen Keller, Ross Perot, Captain Kangaroo
I pressed a petunia from my flowerpot in between the pages of my journal and fell asleep.
16
Cucumber Sandwich
The next morning I woke up to the smell of bacon coming from the kitchen. I disrobed my clothes valet, hung my pajamas where my clothes had been, put on my watch, and ran down the stairs into the kitchen.
Mom and Dad were sitting at the kitchen table in their robes having coffee. India sat next to them in her silk kimono from Uncle Max. She had her legs crossed like Mom’s. She was sipping apple cider, but I could tell that she was pretending that it was coffee. The New York Times was spread out all over the table. Mom had the Week in Review. Dad had the Sunday Style section. India had the special Fashion of the Times magazine insert. She flipped through the pages of unsmiling models with their jeans slung low around their waists.
“I hope washing your hair comes back into fashion again soon,” she said, shaking her head and sipping her apple “coffee.”
Uncle Max was standing at the stove frying bacon and sausage in a pan. Lulu was next to him scrambling eggs.
She whined, “That’s so gross. Look at all that grease. I would never eat bacon. Pigs are disgusting.”
She grabbed a sausage and shoved it into her mouth.
Uncle Max shriveled up his nose and said, “Oink! Oink! I guess you think sausage is a vegetable.”
Lulu, remembering what she had just said about pigs, pretended to be disgusted. She spit the chewed sausage into the sink and ran the disposal. She poured an entire glass of milk down her throat, the same way I do when I have to take cough medicine. It never even touches my tongue.
While Uncle Max made bacon and sausage, and Lulu scrambled eggs, the manny made toast. He asked me to go and get the breakfast-in-bed tray that I had gotten Mom for Mother’s Day. Mom kept it in the hall closet, where she keeps her grandmother’s china and where Dad used to hide his cigarettes. He quit smoking when Belly was born.
I got the breakfast-in-bed tray from the hall closet and took it in to the manny. We put eggs and bacon on a big plate. We put toast on a small plate. And we put Grandma’s pills on a little tiny plate from Belly’s tea party set. Uncle Max poured coffee into Grandma’s Charlie Brown mug that says GOOD GRIEF. It was a gift from her friend June, who’d gotten it for her after the water bed hip-injury fiasco.
I learned the word fiasco from Ms. Grant during our school’s Halloween parade through town. I was dressed up as airport security. I even had a pretend metal-detecting wand that made beep, beep noises. We lined up, like we always do, from shortest to tallest. Ms. Grant was dressed up as Little Bo Peep and had on a huge, frilly skirt that was held out with a hoop at the bottom. She led our class through the streets, which were lined with our parents. I, of course, was first in line behind her. Two blocks into the parade, while I was waving at Mom, I accidentally stepped on the back of Ms. Grant’s long, frilly hoopskirt. She fell down, and before I could stop myself, I fell on top of her. The kids behind me were all waving at their parents, so nobody was paying attention. One after another my classmates piled on top of Ms. Grant. It was a dog pile of witches, ghosts, and Raggedy Anns. We climbed, one by one, off of Ms. Grant, who couldn’t get up on her own because of the big hoopskirt. She just rolled around with her frilly, bloomer-covered legs kicking in the air until Mr. Allen grabbed her underneath her arms and pushed her back onto her feet.
“What a fiasco,” she had said to Mr. Allen.
Lulu carried the breakfast-in-bed tray in to Grandma, who was looking at a garden book with Belly. Belly was petting the side of Grandma’s cheek while Grandma flipped through the pages.
“Oh, my word,” said Grandma when she saw Lulu carrying the tray. “What a nice treat.” Be
lly grabbed a piece of bacon and shoved it into her mouth.
“Just wait,” I said, running to pull open the curtains.
India went to the other side, and we opened them together.
“Taa-daa,” I said.
Grandma’s eyes lit up when she saw the purples, pinks, and yellows.
“How beautiful,” she said, with her hands clasped together by her chin. Her eyes looked like Mom’s do when she chops onions.
Grandma ate breakfast and spent the rest of the morning looking at her new garden.
At lunchtime Grandma felt good enough to get into her wheelchair. Dad and Uncle Max rolled Grandma out onto the back porch, while the manny and I pretended to be traffic cops. We waved Grandma in for a landing, until finally the manny blew on a shiny whistle and motioned her to stop.
I don’t know where he got the whistle, but I want one.
Dad and Uncle Max lifted Grandma and her wheelchair down the three steps so that she was in the yard. Lulu, India, and I took turns wheeling Grandma through the garden and telling her how we had gone to the nursery and planted everything in the dark while she was asleep. I even told her about the manny splashing Lulu with water at the river.
“Did she deserve it?” Grandma asked.
I looked over to see if Lulu was listening. She wasn’t. I turned to Grandma and nodded my head yes.
Grandma loved the garden. I could tell by the way she kept gasping and covering her hand with her mouth.
We ate a garden lunch.
The manny said it was very civilized to eat crustless tomato and cucumber sandwiches in the garden. We washed them down with lemonade.
While we were having shortbread cookies, I stood next to Grandma’s wheelchair and she put her arm around me. Uncle Max took a picture of us with his Polaroid camera. We were next to the rosebush, just like in the picture of her and Mom when Mom was little.
“Say ‘cucumber sandwich,’” said Uncle Max.
“Cucumber sandwich,” we said, smiling really big. Grandma squeezed the back of my neck, and I got goose bumps.
I put the picture of Grandma and me in the Saks Fifth Avenue box in my top drawer.
June 28
Grandma was so excited about the garden. She said that if I watered them every day and if there was plenty of sun, the peony bushes would grow to be very tall. I decided to drink lots of water this summer and spend time in the sun to see if I would grow as tall as the peony bushes. I stood next to the doorframe, and the manny measured my height with a little hatch mark. I put June 28 next to it so that I can see how fast I’m growing. Maybe I won’t have to be first in line next year.
Born on this day: John Elway, Henry VIII, Gilda Radner (the girl from Saturday Night Live who says, “That’s so funny I forgot to laugh”)
17
I Bet They Put June’s Bra in the Freezer
We still planned a summer vacation, even though Grandma was living in our living room. June and the other canasta ladies said they would take turns staying over with her while we were gone. Virginia said she’d make a special trip to the liquor store. Mom didn’t like the sound of that. She left a list of rules for Grandma, the same way she does for us when we stay at home alone while she and Belly run to the grocery store.
Don’t let strangers into the house.
Don’t tell strangers that you are home alone over the telephone.
Be responsible.
NO WILD PARTIES.
Mom never puts the last rule on our list of rules, but she put it in all capitals on Grandma’s. Grandma told her not to worry, that she was looking forward to a quiet week of reading and resting. Then she winked at me when Mom wasn’t looking.
This year we went fly-fishing and camping on a river in the mountains. Dad says summer vacations are for introducing us to what the world has to offer. Last year we went to Disneyland and I threw up cotton candy on the teacups. He said that cotton candy and throwing up were two of the things the world had to offer. The year before that we went to Venice, Italy. Belly was a little baby, and Mom bought her a black-and-white-striped gondolier outfit. When we took a gondola ride through the canals, people pointed at Belly from the arched bridges above. They called her adorable and precious. I thought she looked like a tiny prisoner, except she needed ankle shackles. We wouldn’t have as many broken things in our house if Belly wore ankle shackles.
Uncle Max and the manny were invited to come along on the fly-fishing trip. I couldn’t wait. The manny always seems like he’s on vacation. I couldn’t imagine what he’d be like when he really was. A week before the trip I packed everything I would need into my backpack. Sunglasses. Shorts. My journal. I put the backpack in the corner of my room with a note on it to myself. It said, “Don’t forget to pack your toothbrush.” The manny added “And razor and shaving cream” to my note.
Mom and Dad spent the evenings of the week before our trip packing sunscreen, flashlights, and life jackets and getting together medical kits in case of an emergency. Dad knew what he was doing. When he was in college, he spent his summers as a fly-fishing guide. He guided tourists in boats down rivers. Most of the tourists that he guided had never been fishing before. He said they were wild with their fishing rods, and he had to lie completely down in the boat sometimes so that they wouldn’t hit him with the hook. One time someone fell out of the boat as they floated through rapids. I must have looked worried, because Dad said, “Don’t worry. We’re only floating on calm water. Nobody will fall out of the boat unless they are pushed.”
“Good idea, Dad,” I said as Lulu walked through the room, modeling her new rain gear.
He didn’t hear me.
The day we left for the mountains, Wanda, Thelma, Virginia, and June came over to see us off. They had luggage with them. Thelma told Mom that they all had decided to stay over with Grandma until we returned. She told Mom that it would be like a slumber party. Mom looked worried but shrugged her shoulders and continued putting our backpacks, tents, and life jackets into the back of the Eurovan.
The manny whispered in my ear, “I bet they put June’s bra in the freezer while she’s sleeping.”
I whispered back, “I don’t think it will fit.”
The manny snort-laughed.
When Dad and Uncle Max were finished securing the boat to the top of the Eurovan, the manny yelled, “All aboard.” We ran into the house to give Grandma and the canasta ladies hugs. Grandma kissed me on the forehead. It left a wet mark, but I didn’t wipe it off. When we ran back outside, Mom and Dad were already in the front seats of the Eurovan. Lulu and India got in the back, and Belly got into her car seat. I rode with Uncle Max and the manny in Uncle Max’s Honda Accord. It’s much cleaner than our Eurovan, which has lollipop sticks from the bank stuck to the ceiling. It was a day’s drive to the mountains, five days of camping, and a day’s drive back home.
Uncle Max drove all morning, and Mom drove the Eurovan. Uncle Max and the manny sang along to the radio. They competed to see who knew the words to the most songs. I kept score in the backseat. The manny won. He even knew the words to some country songs. Uncle Max said that he didn’t want to win if it meant that he had to listen to country music. The rest of the day the manny tuned the radio to a country station and sang with every song, while Uncle Max groaned.
The manny wailed, “‘I’ve got friends in low places, where the whisky drowns and the beer chases my blues away.’”
Uncle Max said, “If you don’t stop singing, I’m going to drive this car into oncoming traffic.”
The manny said that if he was going to record a country album, he needed the support of his friends. Then he laughed and started singing louder.
When it was time for lunch, Mom pulled into a little burger place where you ordered from a window and then ate outside at picnic tables. Uncle Max pulled the Honda Accord in right next to the Eurovan. Belly did a blowfish against the window at us. Uncle Max did one back. It left lip marks on the window, but he wiped them off with his shirt. Belly didn�
��t wipe her lip marks off the Eurovan window. They will probably be there until she’s twelve.
We ordered our burgers and sat at the picnic table and ate them. It was so warm that Belly took her shirt off. She looked like a street urchin because she had eaten her cheeseburger straight through the middle, and it left a ketchup stain from the corners of her mouth all the way up to her ears. We watched Oliver last year in music class. Oliver was a street urchin, but even he somehow managed to stay cleaner than Belly does.
Lulu finished her lunch first and opened her backpack to find her walkman to listen to. When she unzipped her backpack, I noticed the corner of “The Manny Files” sticking out of the top. I couldn’t believe that she had brought it along on a camping trip. I guess some things you just don’t take a vacation from.
When we had all finished lunch, Mom stood up and stretched her arms over her head. Her shirt came up, and I could see her belly button and her scar from where they had to take Belly out of her. It’s next to her belly button, and she calls it her Belly zipper. We got back into the cars, only this time Dad drove the Eurovan and the manny drove Uncle Max’s Honda Accord.
Belly gave us one more cross-eyed blowfish against her window, and then the Eurovan pulled out and led us down the highway. The manny followed Dad, while Uncle Max and I played a drawing game. One of us would draw a squiggle on a notepad, and then the other had to make a picture out of it. I turned most of Uncle Max’s squiggles into boats, and he turned most of my squiggles into faces. After a while Uncle Max fell asleep. The manny put in an Andrea Bocelli CD and kept driving. He called it the “soundtrack for the landscape.”
I fell asleep too.
When the manny woke us up, we were parked next to the Eurovan again. This time Belly was pressing her bare bum against the window at us. Mom got mad and made her quit. I saw Lulu saying something to Mom. I bet she was telling her that the manny let Belly moon other cars through the window of the Eurovan. He doesn’t.
The Manny Files book1 Page 9
