Read Online We Are Pirates: A Novel by Daniel Handler - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Daniel Handler
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“Manny here will show you the way.”
“Okay,” said Gwen, but Manny did not look like it was okay. Every wrinkle in his pants was scowling as he stood.
“Manny here is invaluable,” Peggy said, her smile so bright and false that Gwen decided it didn’t matter if invaluable meant valuable or worthless.
“My name’s not Manny,” the man said.
Peggy needed a better laugh. This one sounded worrying, a brittle falling down stairs or a wrong crackle when the Band-Aid was torn off. “We talked about this, Manny,” she said. “The residents find it easier to remember than anything Jamaican.” She swiveled to make Gwen a co-conspirator, but Gwen would stand with Manny through hell and blazes before nodding in agreement with this lousy wreck of a woman. “He makes wonderful tea,” she was saying, “for all our guests sometimes. It’s very traditional. Catnip.”
“Cat mint ,” Manny said, but Peggy was cocking her head at her cardboard folder as it told her it was time for them to leave. “Manny here will show you the way and let you two get to it. If either of you need me, you know where to find me.”
Manny gave the woman a look of disgust, and Gwen realized he hadn’t yet looked at her. Peggy gave them both a little wave with the fingers she wasn’t using to hold the folder, and Gwen followed him down the hallways. They passed two women who had walked their wheelchairs to a bench in order to sit on it, and a man in a chair who just sat there like a collectible. Manny said hello, gently, to one of the women, calling her Silver, although that might just have been her hair. Maybe he only hated fools, so Gwen tried not to be one.
“What part of Jamaica are you from?”
Manny shook his head. “Haiti.”
“Isn’t that—”
“It’s a different country, white girl.”
“I know that,” Gwen said, though she hadn’t been one hundred percent on that. From around a corner Gwen could hear a loud, scraped voice saying “Raisin! Raisin! Raisin! Raisin!,” each time like it was starting all over, and she rounded that corner, and she was led through that door, and “Raisin! Raisin! Raisin!” was what he was saying when they found each other.
“Errol,” Manny said.
He looked up from his chair, which he had moved closer to the sun. Gwen could see its wake across the bad rug. He had a plastic tray across his knees like an airline passenger, and on the tray was an overturned bowl and a small mountain of cereal he was picking through. The raisins were isolated in a line, as if they’d soon be marched off. Gwen was relieved. It was not crazy, to pick out the raisins, she hoped it wasn’t.
“Cereal for lunch is ridiculous,” he said to Manny, as if an argument were already in progress. “You’re fired.”
“You asked for cereal,” Manny said, “and I don’t work for you.”
“For breakfast, I thought it was. Curse me.”
“This is Gwen, Errol.”
“I know who it is.”
“She’s volunteered to be your companion.”
“I know who it is,” Errol said again. “Leave me alone if you’re not going to help.”
This was, to Gwen, a very perfect sentence, just the thing she thought all the time. Manny backed out of the room and they sized each other up. The air between them felt awkward and managed, as if they were estranged, instead of being strangers. Gwen felt the familiar jitter, buzzy and smiley, of being next to old people. Her mother didn’t like it either, she realized. That’s why she’d chosen this for Gwen’s punishment.
“How’d you get here?” Errol said finally.
“My mom drove me.”
“No, I mean which way did you take?”
“We just took, um, Hill Street.”
“Hill Street, no fucking kidding.”
“Uh-huh.” Was swearing against the rules? She had signed that thing.
“I mean I can’t believe they called it Hill Street.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It is an insult,” Errol said, with mild fury. “I guess I’ll go my own way.”
“I guess so,” Gwen said.
“Okay,” said Gwen, but Manny did not look like it was okay. Every wrinkle in his pants was scowling as he stood.
“Manny here is invaluable,” Peggy said, her smile so bright and false that Gwen decided it didn’t matter if invaluable meant valuable or worthless.
“My name’s not Manny,” the man said.
Peggy needed a better laugh. This one sounded worrying, a brittle falling down stairs or a wrong crackle when the Band-Aid was torn off. “We talked about this, Manny,” she said. “The residents find it easier to remember than anything Jamaican.” She swiveled to make Gwen a co-conspirator, but Gwen would stand with Manny through hell and blazes before nodding in agreement with this lousy wreck of a woman. “He makes wonderful tea,” she was saying, “for all our guests sometimes. It’s very traditional. Catnip.”
“Cat mint ,” Manny said, but Peggy was cocking her head at her cardboard folder as it told her it was time for them to leave. “Manny here will show you the way and let you two get to it. If either of you need me, you know where to find me.”
Manny gave the woman a look of disgust, and Gwen realized he hadn’t yet looked at her. Peggy gave them both a little wave with the fingers she wasn’t using to hold the folder, and Gwen followed him down the hallways. They passed two women who had walked their wheelchairs to a bench in order to sit on it, and a man in a chair who just sat there like a collectible. Manny said hello, gently, to one of the women, calling her Silver, although that might just have been her hair. Maybe he only hated fools, so Gwen tried not to be one.
“What part of Jamaica are you from?”
Manny shook his head. “Haiti.”
“Isn’t that—”
“It’s a different country, white girl.”
“I know that,” Gwen said, though she hadn’t been one hundred percent on that. From around a corner Gwen could hear a loud, scraped voice saying “Raisin! Raisin! Raisin! Raisin!,” each time like it was starting all over, and she rounded that corner, and she was led through that door, and “Raisin! Raisin! Raisin!” was what he was saying when they found each other.
“Errol,” Manny said.
He looked up from his chair, which he had moved closer to the sun. Gwen could see its wake across the bad rug. He had a plastic tray across his knees like an airline passenger, and on the tray was an overturned bowl and a small mountain of cereal he was picking through. The raisins were isolated in a line, as if they’d soon be marched off. Gwen was relieved. It was not crazy, to pick out the raisins, she hoped it wasn’t.
“Cereal for lunch is ridiculous,” he said to Manny, as if an argument were already in progress. “You’re fired.”
“You asked for cereal,” Manny said, “and I don’t work for you.”
“For breakfast, I thought it was. Curse me.”
“This is Gwen, Errol.”
“I know who it is.”
“She’s volunteered to be your companion.”
“I know who it is,” Errol said again. “Leave me alone if you’re not going to help.”
This was, to Gwen, a very perfect sentence, just the thing she thought all the time. Manny backed out of the room and they sized each other up. The air between them felt awkward and managed, as if they were estranged, instead of being strangers. Gwen felt the familiar jitter, buzzy and smiley, of being next to old people. Her mother didn’t like it either, she realized. That’s why she’d chosen this for Gwen’s punishment.
“How’d you get here?” Errol said finally.
“My mom drove me.”
“No, I mean which way did you take?”
“We just took, um, Hill Street.”
“Hill Street, no fucking kidding.”
“Uh-huh.” Was swearing against the rules? She had signed that thing.
“I mean I can’t believe they called it Hill Street.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It is an insult,” Errol said, with mild fury. “I guess I’ll go my own way.”
“I guess so,” Gwen said.
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