Read Online The Manny Files book1 by Christian Burch - Free Book Online
Authors: Christian Burch
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didn’t seem blank.
I knew she wasn’t playing.
India said, “Come on, I’ll chase you.” She started chasing Belly.
Mom called Dad at work and cried into the telephone.
She had hit her meltdown limit.
That night, after we were all supposed to be asleep, I could hear Dad’s muffled voice on the other side of the wall. Usually Mom and Dad talk and laugh at night. Tonight they didn’t laugh. They just talked.
I couldn’t sleep, so I sneaked out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to India’s room. The floor creaked, so I stopped in the hallway and looked at Mom and Dad’s closed bedroom door. The light was shining from underneath it. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. They always stand up when I’m afraid of getting caught out of bed after lights-out. Sometimes, after eleven thirty, I sneak through the dark house and down to the kitchen and have a glass of cranberry juice. Mom and Dad don’t know.
I tiptoed faster when I reached India’s room,and finally ran for her bed. She was awake too.
“I can’t sleep,” I told her.
She said, “Maybe there’s another jar of earwax underneath your bed.”
“That’s so funny I forgot to laugh,” I said. Uncle Max slept over once, and I stayed up late with him. We watched old episodes of his favorite show,
Saturday Night Live.
There was a lady with frizzy hair who said, “That’s so funny I forgot to laugh.” I said it to Ms. Grant once, and she said I shouldn’t be staying up so late.
She said it again when there was a knock at our classroom door.
“Who is it?” she said.
“Land shark,” I said.
She glared at me.
She has no sense of humor.
I climbed into bed with India and felt her icy-cold toes touch mine.
“Who’s sick?” I asked India. India always knows what’s going on in our family. Mom and Dad talk to her like she’s all grown up. Everyone talks to India like she’s all grown up. At school one time India and I were walking down the hall together to catch the bus. Mr. Allen, our school principal, walked by going the other way and said, “Hey, India, thanks for your advice.”
I looked at India, but she didn’t look back at me. I still don’t know what she advised him about, but it obviously wasn’t about his toupee. He still wears that.
“Grandma fell and broke her hip,” India said.
“Is she going to die?” I asked.
India said, “You don’t die from a broken hip, silly.”
But I think Sarah’s grandma did.
“How did she break it?”
India leaned up on her elbow and adjusted her Snoopy pillow. I don’t think that Mr. Allen would ask for her advice if he knew that she still slept on Snoopy sheets.
She began the story, “Grandma has been saving the money that she wins at canasta so that she can buy a water bed.”
Canasta is a card game that Grandma plays every Tuesday with five other women as old as she is. Thelma, Wanda, Violet, Virginia, and June. I know their names because when Grandma hosts, I sometimes pretend to be their waiter and serve them cookies and lemonade. I decrumb the table between snacks. Thelma and Wanda are sisters who say mean things to each other and then laugh and hug. Violet always brings pie. Virginia talks like her throat hurts and has to go tothe porch in between games to smoke cigarettes. She smells like the little glass room at the airport where people stand and smoke before they rush out to catch a plane with all the healthy people. June is my favorite. She is very fat, and her cheeks are pink. She always tips me.
India went on with the story.
“Grandma and June went to the Mattress King store to try out beds. Grandma lay down on one side of the bed and told June to lie on the other side. When June got on, the bed moved like a tidal wave. Grandma flew off of the bed and onto the floor. The store clerk said he tried to catch Grandma, but June says he really jumped out of the way of her flying body.”
I felt badly because I wanted to giggle at the story.
India said,
I knew she wasn’t playing.
India said, “Come on, I’ll chase you.” She started chasing Belly.
Mom called Dad at work and cried into the telephone.
She had hit her meltdown limit.
That night, after we were all supposed to be asleep, I could hear Dad’s muffled voice on the other side of the wall. Usually Mom and Dad talk and laugh at night. Tonight they didn’t laugh. They just talked.
I couldn’t sleep, so I sneaked out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to India’s room. The floor creaked, so I stopped in the hallway and looked at Mom and Dad’s closed bedroom door. The light was shining from underneath it. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. They always stand up when I’m afraid of getting caught out of bed after lights-out. Sometimes, after eleven thirty, I sneak through the dark house and down to the kitchen and have a glass of cranberry juice. Mom and Dad don’t know.
I tiptoed faster when I reached India’s room,and finally ran for her bed. She was awake too.
“I can’t sleep,” I told her.
She said, “Maybe there’s another jar of earwax underneath your bed.”
“That’s so funny I forgot to laugh,” I said. Uncle Max slept over once, and I stayed up late with him. We watched old episodes of his favorite show,
Saturday Night Live.
There was a lady with frizzy hair who said, “That’s so funny I forgot to laugh.” I said it to Ms. Grant once, and she said I shouldn’t be staying up so late.
She said it again when there was a knock at our classroom door.
“Who is it?” she said.
“Land shark,” I said.
She glared at me.
She has no sense of humor.
I climbed into bed with India and felt her icy-cold toes touch mine.
“Who’s sick?” I asked India. India always knows what’s going on in our family. Mom and Dad talk to her like she’s all grown up. Everyone talks to India like she’s all grown up. At school one time India and I were walking down the hall together to catch the bus. Mr. Allen, our school principal, walked by going the other way and said, “Hey, India, thanks for your advice.”
I looked at India, but she didn’t look back at me. I still don’t know what she advised him about, but it obviously wasn’t about his toupee. He still wears that.
“Grandma fell and broke her hip,” India said.
“Is she going to die?” I asked.
India said, “You don’t die from a broken hip, silly.”
But I think Sarah’s grandma did.
“How did she break it?”
India leaned up on her elbow and adjusted her Snoopy pillow. I don’t think that Mr. Allen would ask for her advice if he knew that she still slept on Snoopy sheets.
She began the story, “Grandma has been saving the money that she wins at canasta so that she can buy a water bed.”
Canasta is a card game that Grandma plays every Tuesday with five other women as old as she is. Thelma, Wanda, Violet, Virginia, and June. I know their names because when Grandma hosts, I sometimes pretend to be their waiter and serve them cookies and lemonade. I decrumb the table between snacks. Thelma and Wanda are sisters who say mean things to each other and then laugh and hug. Violet always brings pie. Virginia talks like her throat hurts and has to go tothe porch in between games to smoke cigarettes. She smells like the little glass room at the airport where people stand and smoke before they rush out to catch a plane with all the healthy people. June is my favorite. She is very fat, and her cheeks are pink. She always tips me.
India went on with the story.
“Grandma and June went to the Mattress King store to try out beds. Grandma lay down on one side of the bed and told June to lie on the other side. When June got on, the bed moved like a tidal wave. Grandma flew off of the bed and onto the floor. The store clerk said he tried to catch Grandma, but June says he really jumped out of the way of her flying body.”
I felt badly because I wanted to giggle at the story.
India said,
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