The Boy with Words for Skin

Chapter 16: Manny

"We," Kit paused. "You see, we don't . . . we were hoping you . . ."

I'd never seen Kit so flustered. Her cheeks were flaming and she wasn't meeting Manny's eye. Mr. Trimble and Mrs. Banks and Ms. Hardy had thrown her off.

Manny gave us a lost expression. "Well, spit it out. If I don't have it, I'll let you know."

"Well, you see . . . our . . ."

I hadn't planned on saying anything, but seeing her fumble for words was almost painful. "We need some stuff, but we don't have any money," I blurted out.

Manny and Kit both turned to me. He simply nodded and she gave me a thin smile.

"You're looking for a handout, huh?" Manny asked. He fingered the edges of a stack of papers.

Kit tensed. Once again she opened her mouth but nothing came out.

"That's exactly it, Manny," I said.

Manny picked up a pen and tapped the stack of papers with it over and over again. The tempo getting faster by the second.

"Old Man Trimble gives us a ton of food—this food, actually," I said. "He says he just does this charity write-off, or something like that."

Manny offered an intrigued frown and titled his head from side to side. "I don't know about that. I'd have to look into it. See how that'd work."

Kit nodded. "Right. Of course." She pulled on her cart to turn it around and two boxes of Rice Krispies fell to the floor. "We'll get going. It's okay, Manny." She bent down to grabbed the cereal boxes.

"Just hold on, now," Manny said. He looked at the stack of papers again. "What'd you kiddos need? Let me see if there's anything I can do."

She straightened up. "Really?"

"I can't make no promises," Manny held up his hands, "but tell me what you're after."

She nodded. "It wouldn't be much. We just wanted some decorations for a Halloween party."

Manny jerked his head back. "A party?"

Kit shook her head. "It's not like . . . that . . ."

"We want the kids to have some kind of normal life," I said. "We thought it'd be nice."

"And your parents aren't helping you get what you need?" Manny asked. His voice was flat. One eyebrow raised halfway up his forehead.

"No. They're not." I said, my voice rough.

Manny looked at me with a start.

"So, are you going to help us out or not?" I asked, my eyes on his.

Our eyes locked for about two seconds, then I saw his begin to slide over the lines of writing that were still visible on my face. I felt myself cringe inside, but I didn't dare look away.

Manny threw down his pen. "Well, I can't give out no charity," he said. "Store's never been much of a money maker. I've barely been breaking even for years—not that you need to tell anyone that."

So, that was that. Manny was just another person in Oak Knoll that didn't care, that wanted to forget us. I would have felt hurt if I was so busy feeling angry.

Kit looked about to cry. "Well, thanks for—"

"But I'm losing Houston. His grades have been real bad this year at school so far, and I don't think he's going to be sticking around after Christmas Break."

I didn't see what his point was. "So?" I said.

"So? So, I can't do everything myself. In case you hadn't noticed, I've been an old man for quite some time now," he said. "So, if you need goods, we can barter. My merchandise for your hard work."