Hit the Road, Manny

by Christian Burch

  After a little while the cow began licking the calf’s back while the calf still nursed underneath her. We all cheered and clapped. Lulu and India even hugged each other and spun around in a circle together in celebration. Belly played the top of Dad’s head like a snare drum.

  The manny yelled, “There will be no rejection of children by their parents today!” and put his fist up in the air like he was a Jet in West Side Story.

  Roger put his arm around the manny’s shoulders and said, “Thanks for your help, Matty, I’m proud of you. You did a good job.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” the manny said, slapping his father on his right shoulder and then keeping his hand there. He and his dad looked at each other eye to eye, like they were speaking telepathically.

  “Let’s name the calf Captain Fantastic,” Roger suggested.

  “That’s one of my favorite Elton John songs,” the manny said.

  “I know,” said the manny’s dad. “Captain Fantastic it is.”

  Dad was standing next to me, so I wrapped a hug around his waist, and he bent down and kissed me on the top of my head.

  That night I picked two postcards, both with cows on them.

  Dear Uncle Max,

  I helped the manny and his dad deliver a calf today. When it was done, the manny’s dad told the manny that he should bring you here to visit. Then they hugged. I want to come too, because I’m kind of a natural farm kid. I can even walk bowlegged. I might want to be a vet when I grow up.

  Knee-deep in afterbirth,

  Keats Rufus Dalinger

  Dear Sarah,

  I saw a calf get born today. You would have barfed, it was so messy. The calf is named Captain Fantastic after a song. I listened to it on the manny’s iPod. It’s about little dirt cowboys, and the first line is “Captain Fantastic, raised and regimented, hardly a hero, just someone his mother might know.”

  Wish you were here,

  Keats and Captain Fantastic

  22Keats Is My Favorite

  The manny’s mother packed a big brown paper bag full of sandwiches, fruit, and homemade cookies for us to take when we left. The sandwiches were really good because they were wrapped in waxed paper and not in plastic bags.

  The adults talked by the RV while I ran up to the cow pen to say good-bye to Captain Fantastic. India went with me. Lulu was walking around the yard with Belly, who was yelling, “BYE, SKIMBLESHANKS!” “BYE ASPARAGUS!” “BYE RUM TUM TUGGER!” to all the cats.

  Captain Fantastic was nursing underneath his mother. When the mother cow saw me, she walked over, and Captain Fantastic followed her. He kicked his feet in the air and jerked his head around like he was a rodeo bull. Then he ran over to me and poked his head through the fence.

  “I’ve decided that Captain Fantastic is your cow.” The manny’s father had walked up behind me.

  “Really?” I squealed. “Where will I keep him? How will I get him home? I can ride him to school!”

  “Oh, we’ll keep him here, but you have to come visit him. We’ll keep you updated on how big he gets, and if we ever sell him, we’ll send you the money for your college fund or to put toward your first car.”

  “Or for tickets to Dollywood!” India joked.

  “I don’t ever want to sell him!” I exclaimed, and rubbed Captain Fantastic on the nose. Then I ran down to the RV to tell everybody that I was a cattle rancher now.

  Belly got jealous when I announced that Captain Fantastic was mine. “WELL, THE JELLICLE CATS ARE HERS, AND LOLA THE SNAKE IS HERS TOO,” she said, barely keeping herself from sticking her tongue out at me.

  Tears ran down Clarissa’s cheeks while we said our good-byes.

  “She always does this,” Roger said, but his eyes got watery too as he hugged the manny and kissed him on the cheek. He said something quietly into his ear, but I couldn’t hear what it was. I hope it was “Keats is my favorite.” The manny smiled at his father, and then we all climbed into the RV.

  Roger put his arm around Clarissa, and they looked at each other and kissed on the lips.

  “Stop it! You’re too old for that!” screamed Lulu. We pulled down the same long road that Cochise and the manny’s father had ridden next to us on when we arrived.

  Belly yelled out the window, “MEMORY, LA-LA-LOW AND THE MOONNIGHT!”

  Chicken Livers27

  Everyone was crankier than usual as we drove through Yellowstone. Lulu had on her earbuds and refused to listen to anybody, even Mom when she asked her to help Belly rebuckle her seat belt. Mom ended up screaming it so that Lulu could hear over “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman.”

  “Stop yelling,” Dad scolded Mom, and put a finger in his ear like his hearing had been damaged.

  “You’re yelling louder than I am,” Mom yelled back even louder than she had before. They sounded like Lulu and me fighting over the front seat on the way to school.

  Lulu took out her earbuds and told Dad that he should stop at the next gas station to get some coffee because he and Mom were both cranky.

  “I’m going to drive us into the Firehole River,” Dad said, halfway joking.

  “NOT THE HELLHOLE RIVER! HER DOESN’T WANT TO!” Belly squealed, and pretended to cry.

  Lulu screamed, “It’s called the Firehole River, Belly, and stop calling yourself ‘her.’ It’s ‘I don’t want to go into the Firehole River.’ Get it right. You’re old enough to know.”

  Belly’s pretend cries turned into real tears and then sobs.

  “Why do you have to be so mean?” India glared at Lulu.

  Mom punched Dad in the arm and glared at him for starting mass panic in the RV. The manny and I looked at each other like we were in the middle of a stampede and we didn’t know which way to go.

  India tried to comfort Belly and crossed over into Lulu’s marked-off space.

  “Get out!” Lulu screamed, and pushed India. India turned around, grabbed the conduct mark board, and ripped it in half.

  “This is anarchy!” screamed Lulu. “This is why we have these rules!”

  “Okay! Enough!” erupted the manny like Old Faithful. I’d been waiting to use an Old Faithful analogy since we visited it earlier that morning. The RV got silent. We had never really heard the manny yell, unless you count the time he stepped on one of my LEGOs and dropped a tray of oysters on the floor. He served us oysters once for an after-school snack just to mix it up. But that was a yell of pain. This was different. And oysters are gross.

  Dad pulled into a scenic overlook next to the road and walked into the back of the RV. Then the yelling started up again with Lulu. “I’m so tired of being trapped in here with all these babies!”

  India rolled her eyes at her.

  “I’m almost in high school, and I shouldn’t have to spend my whole summer with little kids. I need to have some adult time!” Lulu went on.

  I said, “You mean like with Fletcher when you kissed!”

  “How do you know about that?” Lulu whirled toward me.

  I shrugged, even though I had overheard Lulu talking about it to Margo on the bus.

  “OOOOOOOH,” said Belly like they do on television shows when teenagers kiss.

  “What?” Mom chimed in.

  “Nothing, Mommy,” said Lulu, putting on her sweet-child voice and look, the same ones she does when she wants to order a new shirt online from Urban Outfitters. She always says, “Mommy? Can I order a shirt? It’s really pretty.” She never calls Mom “Mommy” unless she wants to order something. Mom always falls for it.

  “Did you give him the tongue?” I asked, not really knowing what “giving the tongue” meant.

  “Keats!” Mom slapped my leg with her hand. “Don’t talk like that ever!”

  “Well, excuuuuuse me!” I said snottily. We’ve all picked up a little bit from Lulu.

  Dad said, “Look, this is a vacation! Can we please try to have some fun and get along?”

  “I’m having fun, Dad,” I said, taking the opportunity to show him that I’m his best
child. I really wasn’t having much fun. Mom was glaring at me because of my tongue comment, and I could tell that it would be awhile before she would forget about it.

  “I’m not!” shouted Lulu so loudly that Dad shushed her and glanced out the window to notice that a family in a brand-new white Mercedes station wagon had pulled up next to us. Lulu looked to see what Dad was looking at. They looked like the perfect family. Perfect haircuts. Perfect teeth. Perfect collars popped up on their golf shirts. I popped up my collar too.

  The station wagon had a mom and a dad in the front seats and three kids about the same ages as Lulu, India, and me in the backseat. The window was cracked about half an inch, and the dad was yelling something at the mom about not being able to read a map. She was yelling back at him and called him stupid. The girl Lulu’s age saw Lulu and rolled her eyes and shook her head toward her parents. The kids in the car looked miserable and weren’t even talking to one another.

  “If that dad were riding in here, he’d already have three conduct marks,” said Lulu.

  Mom laughed and so did Belly, even though she didn’t know what was funny. Dad settled back into the driver’s seat and we stopped arguing.

  The manny looked at the girl Lulu’s age in the station wagon. He put his pointer finger under his chin and lifted his head with it. It means “Keep your chin up.” The manny made the same motion to Belly one time during a Bible school program. Belly goes to Bible school with her friend Adam. Belly had one line in the program at the end of the week: “God loves cheerful givers!” She practiced it all week, but during the program she stood up and yelled into the microphone, “GOD LOVES CHICKEN LIVERS!” The audience started laughing really loudly, and Belly’s face got red and she looked like she was going to cry. That’s when the manny made the “Keep your chin up” sign.

  After the program the manny told Belly, “God probably does love chicken livers.”

  “And chicken nuggets,” Belly added.

  The girl in the station wagon smiled, waved a forced wave to us, put on a pair of sunglasses, and sank lower into her seat.

  Dear Uncle Max,

  Yellowstone is the world’s first national park. I used Mom’s camera to take a picture of Belly feeding gummy bears to a ground squirrel. I also used it to get a picture of Dad getting a lecture from a park ranger about feeding the wildlife. You’ll see it when I give my PowerPoint slide show when I get home.

  I think I want to be a park ranger when I grow up.

  Keats Rufus Dalinger

  Dear Sarah,

  Does your family fight on vacation?

  Just wondering,

  Keats

  I Need Sugar!23

  The hotel in Salt Lake City was called the Little America. It was a weird burgundy color and had a big courtyard with a swimming pool in the middle of it. The lounge chairs at the pool had crisp white towels rolled up on them, and there was a stereo system that was playing “Young at Heart” by Frank Sinatra.

  Frank Sinatra music wasn’t playing in the lobby. Instead a man in a tuxedo was playing a big, shiny black piano next to five big couches. There was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and all the countertops were white marble.

  “I feel like I’ve traveled back in time,” said India.

  “Do I look younger?” asked the manny.

  “No. You still look thirty-four, but you look like a thirty-four-year-old at a nineteen fifties hotel,” India said before she jumped out of the way of a gold luggage cart that was being pushed by a blond bellhop in an all-white uniform and hat. The hat had a strap that went around his chin, and his name tag said CHIP.

  Mom stared at him, and Dad caught her. She claimed that she was admiring his perfect skin. “He doesn’t look like he’s ever had a piece of chocolate in his life,” she said. Chocolate makes Mom’s face break out in pimples like a teenager’s. So do periods.

  Our hotel room was on the top floor and had a balcony that overlooked the city. Mom pointed out the Mormon Temple and the capitol building. The temple looked like a white castle with sharp points at the top.

  Lulu read parts of To Kill a Mockingbird out loud while Belly looked down at the city and pointed things out. A trolley car. A “Got Milk?” billboard. Bird poop on the windshields of cars below. She kept scanning the city until she found something to point out.

  “PARADE!” shouted Belly as she jumped up and down and pointed down to a street a couple of blocks away. There was a line of floats and marching bands along the street. Then she ran to the bathroom, screaming and holding herself because her excitement was too much to hold in. Belly loves parades. They make her pee.

  Belly ran back out to the balcony before her pants were even all the way up. “CAN HER GO? THEY’RE THROWING SUGAR! HER NEEDS SUGAR!” she screamed as she straightened her Hello Kitty panties, which were twisted around her waist and looked uncomfortable. Belly calls all candy sugar.

  “I need sugar too!” the manny screamed, even though it was obvious that he didn’t.

  “Let’s go see what the parade is for,” Mom said.

  The manny and Belly gave each other a high five, and then the manny held on to his palm like Belly had slapped him too hard. She giggled.

  We raced through the hotel lobby and past the piano player, who was taking a break outside the carousel doors. He looked like a mobster in his tuxedo, glancing at his watch and smoking a cigarette. I told India that he probably played the piano during the daytime and threw people with cement blocks on their feet into the Great Salt Lake at night. India laughed but couldn’t say anything back because Belly had ahold of her hand and was pulling her down the street toward the parade.

  The parade hadn’t started yet, but people were lining up, getting ready for it to begin. There were police all around, on horses and motorcycles. Mom told Belly that the police were there to make sure that kids didn’t take more than their fair share of candy that was thrown off of the parade floats. Belly looked scared. The only thing that keeps her from causing trouble is the threat of jail.

  We stood at the very beginning of the parade, where the organizer was telling which float, band, or group to go next through a megaphone. The first to go were a bunch of women in jeans and black leather boots on motorcycles. Belly held her ears as the bikes roared away. I could feel the noise inside my chest. The same way I can feel fireworks shows in my toes. The crowd cheered. So did the people waiting for their turn to go. After the bikes went, thirty men in Speedo swimsuits holding volleyballs started walking behind a sign that said SALT LAKE CITY WATER POLO. One of them carried a stereo that was playing a David Bowie song that Lulu has on her iPod. The one that goes, “Take a look at the Lawman beating up the wrong guy,” and where “Mickey Mouse has grown up a cow.” It’s a weird song. Lulu sang along, but she covered her eyes with her hands. She hates Speedo swimsuits. I’ve never seen a water polo team in a parade before, especially in their swimsuits. India said that it was a “flock of Glamour Don’ts.”

  “Aha,” said the manny like he had figured out what the celebration was about. Mom squeezed his arm like she was in on his discovery.

  Belly ran all over the street, grabbing candy that was thrown from floats. A man who was running for sheriff threw Jolly Ranchers from on top of a horse. A Delta Airlines float shaped like an airplane threw out Delta Airlines necklaces. The Salt Lake Men’s Choir sang, “‘R-E-S-P-EC-T,’” and threw out chewing gum. Belly picked up three pieces but then handed two of them to smaller kids when she spotted a policeman standing on the corner. She waved to the policeman and pretended that she was helping other kids get candy.

  The next float standing in line to go had a big sign that said PFLAG. I’m not sure how you say it, but I think the P is silent, like in the word “psychic.” The lady at the front of the float had a microphone. She pointed at the manny and said, “Hey, cute guy with the sunhat, do you want to ride on our float?”

  The manny looked around and then dramatically pointed to himself and mouthed, “Me?” like they d
o in the movies when they’re crowned homecoming queen. Then he yelled, “Only because you said I was cute,” and started to climb up on the float.

  That’s the thing about the manny. He gets asked to join in on things. Mom says it’s because the manny could have fun inside a paper bag.

  “I’ll see you at the end of the parade!” the manny yelled down to us. I turned around and saw Mom and Dad laughing.

  “I’m going with him!” I yelled, wanting people to think I could have fun in a paper bag too. And I didn’t want to miss anything. Like if the manny started lip-synching to “Twist and Shout” like they do in the parade in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

  Before Mom and Dad could object, I ran toward the float and leaped up and pulled myself on beside the manny. I turned around and waved at Mom and Dad. Lulu and India didn’t notice. They were trying to get Belly to spit out the seven pieces of gum she had shoved in her mouth. The wad was so big that when Belly finally spit it out, it looked like she’d spit out her pink chewed-up brain. A policeman stepped on it.

  The float whizzed around the corner, and I started waving to people along the street. The manny stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders, making sure that I didn’t fall or lose my balance. The parade went right by the Mormon Temple. It’s even prettier up close, like an ice princess’s house.

  We went by an apartment building that had balconies. There was a group of older women out there hollering and waving down at the water polo team. One of them even screamed, “We love you,” as she danced to a Beyoncé song that was now playing.

  Some of the polo players yelled back, “We love you, too!”

  There was a man on the float with us named Tony. He wore big wire-rimmed glasses with tinted lenses and told the manny that he was a retired airport employee.