Me and Charley

2. Lunch at Charley's

If I dreamed that night I remember nothing of it. Next I knew bright sunshine leaking around the shade on the dormer window described the familiar blob of light over my desk. I had an urgent need to pee. I tapped the alarm clock on the night stand next to my bed and it announced, "Eight fifty-two a.m." The talking alarm clock, designed for people with poor vision or none, was last year's Christmas gift from Grandpa and Grandma. I thought, Yikes, it's late! I threw off the sheet that covered me and headed for the bathroom.

The phones were ringing as I came out the bathroom door, the one at the foot of the stairs and the extension in Mom's bedroom. Through Mom's door I heard her answer. I was surprised that she was still in bed and hoped she was not ill. She spoke softly and I did not understand what she was saying. I feared she would have to go in to work to address some problem at the care home. I got into my t-shirt and overalls, put my glasses on and went down to the kitchen where I pulled an orange out of the fridge. The sound of stair treads creaking under Mom's feet broke my concentration as I tried to work the peel off in one piece, an art I had mastered a year or so before. I looked up and said, "'Mornin', Mom. Trouble at the home?"

"Good morning, Trey. I hope the phone didn't wake you."

"No Ma'am. I was awake. Were you?"

She glanced at the clock over the sink and said, "No, but I guess I should have been,"

Mom said, "Don't eat too much. We're invited to Charley's house for lunch. His mom and dad want to talk with us about something."

"Gosh, Mom, did I do something wrong yesterday? Maybe I hurt Charley's feelings or somethin'?"

"I don't think so, son, not at all. Don't worry, I'm sure whatever it is will be a good thing. Take a shower and put on fresh clothes. Wear your nice shorts and your sneakers."

"Mom," I objected, "I haven't had shoes on since April. How do I know they still fit?"

"Just do it, Trey. We need to show these people respect."

I couldn't quite figure what footwear had to do with respect, but I just said, "Yes'm."

"Good. Now I'll make us cereal and toast."

I went back to peeling my orange and ate it section by section. "Mom," I said, "Do you think they're gonna try to get us into their church?"

"Well, Trey, if they do, let me do the talking, all right?"

"Yes'm."

As I spread jam on my toast I asked, "Mom, why is Charley crippled? Is he being punished for somethin' bad he did?"

"Why, no! Whatever gave you that idea?"

"I was thinking about it after I went to bed last night. I just don't understand it."

"Well, Trey, no one really understands why some people suffer, especially children. But Charley seems like a very good boy who had some very bad luck. Look at how happy he made you yesterday."

"Yeah, he did," I replied. We lapsed into silence.

I finished my toast and took my stuff to the sink,  and started heading for the bathroom when Mom said, "Come here, you." I thought, What did I do?  When I got next to her chair she reached around and hugged me tight and kissed me, saying, "I love you so much." I said, "I love you too, Mom," but I couldn't wait for her to let go of me. I never liked people hugging on me, not even Mom.

I showered and dressed. My sneakers were tight. I'd need new come fall. I slipped them off and left them by the bed and picked up the book I was reading. Toward the end of the school term my eyes had got to straining after a half-hour or so of reading, and an hour brought on a headache. I was due for my regular checkup with Dr. Hynes in a couple of weeks, and Mom said I'd probably need my glasses changed. I hated that she had to spend so much to keep me in glasses, but there was nothing to be done for it, really. I'd not be safe walking around without them.