This story is part of a story that I wrote as an assignment for a MOOC Class I took at University of IOWA.
The class was called, Power of the Pen: Identities and Social Issues in Fiction and Nonfiction. The classes are taught online and people from all over the world participate. This was the second time I participated, and again I learned a lot.
Here you can read the beginning of the story, Part 1 and 2 …
… (Read Part 1 here, and Part 2 here)
Manuel Part 3
…
After walking aimlessly around the neighborhood for a while, I finally decide to face the storm and head home. My mother doesn’t waste any time confronting me.
“Manuel, did you take part of the rent money?” Her eyes are hard.
I don’t dare to say anything, but of course she knows.
“Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? Tell me, what did you think? And what did you do with my money?”
I press my lips together. My mother’s eyes pierce mine. Heat spreads on my face. The silence between us hurts. Where did the familiar closeness go that I felt as a boy?
“Manuel, answer me! Mister Goldman threatened to kick us out, again. I’m working hard to keep this house, and you …” She steps close, reaches for my shoulder and shakes me… I want to shrug her hand off, but then I see her swallowing hard. Tears shine in her eyes. My heart cramps together. I didn’t mean to hurt her like that.
Turning towards the pantry door, my mother mutters, “Oh Bendito, have mercy, or he’ll end up like his father!”
I’m sure she didn’t intend for me to hear that but it hurts nevertheless. The mix of disappointment and anger in her voice mirrors the feelings in my own heart. I don’t want to see her like that, she’s all I have and she’s working her butt off for me. Where is her fight, her spunk? She always had my back. Frustrated with myself for doing this to her, I’m also angry at David Goldman.
“Mama, please, I just needed 200 bucks and when I came from school you weren’t here. What was I supposed to do?”
I put my hand on her shoulder, “I’ll give it back… I promise.”
She shrugs my hand off. Her eyes search mine, “Manuel, you stole from me!” The disappointment in her voice cuts through my heart.
“And how will you pay me back? You had to quit your job because you need to study more. Do you want to lose that track scholarship, too? You know that they will not accept any nonsense. You’ll be a senior after summer, and if you ever want to go to college, we need to save every penny and keep your scholarship …” She sighs, “What did you need the money for anyway?”
“I can’t tell you.”
She swings around, anger flares up in her eyes. “What? Did you do something illegal? Are you involved with these gangsters down the road?” Her calm, cold voice pains me more than if she’d yelled at me.
“Mama, …” I moan, looking down at her. She looks so small. And depressed.
“Manuel, look at me …” She reaches for my chin and holds it in her rough, dry hand. Working the long night hours at a hotel’s kitchen and laundry is wearing her out. “Don’t lie to me, what did you do with my money?” The hurt in her eyes pierces my heart.
“Mama, I … I helped a friend.” I crudely shake her hand off. I can’t take it anymore. I turn to leave. Dashing through the door and down the stairs I hear her yell, “Manuel! Manuel, get back here, you are grounded for the rest of the month …”
I don’t listen, I don’t stop. ‘Cause I just can’t tell her that David Goldman blackmailed me. It would kill her to know what he used.
This time I head to the ball park.
I hate myself for delivering the money. I’m such an idiot to believe him. And I’m a chicken. I couldn’t even tell Sheila. She’ll hate me, when she finds out.
Urgh, what did I get myself into. I should’ve known. David is a jerk and nothing will ever change that, not even 200 bucks. He will only want more and more money. Money, I don’t have. As a landlord of at least 20 houses his father is loaded, I don’t even know why he needs my money.
I start running. Left foot, right foot, left foot … I try to find my usual rhythm. Running is the only thing that keeps me sane.
If only David had never seen this movie.
Sheila. A wave of excitement runs over me.
I remember every single moment: her hair is so smooth, the chocolate brown skin glows in the setting sun. Her big brown eyes stare at me with such a trust.
I never imagined that anybody would look at me like that …
I ruined it all, shattered Sheila’s trust to pieces. The pleasant excitement turns into a cold shiver creeping down my back. Suddenly it is hard to breathe.
She was okay with filming. We both wanted a memory. I was so proud of my girl. And the other day at school, I really needed to see it. The movie is so precious to me. Watching her and me over and over again. We are kissing like real movie stars.
“Cause all of me loves all of you,” The John Legend song announces a call from Sheila. As if she knows that I’m thinking about her. I stop and pull the phone from my pocket. Rubbing my wet palms on my thighs I stare at the screen.
I shake my head. I can’t talk to her right now. . . She is the only person I really want to talk to, but I can’t. First, I must figure out …
The call goes to voicemail. I put the phone back in my pocket.
Her father cannot find out about our love, he’ll kill me. The son of a yardbird touched his princess.
I need to talk to Sheila, I know that. But just not now.
One thing after another.
I pull my phone out again. A text message blinks, Sheila left a voicemail. For a second I press the phone against my chest. Slowly, I sit down on a bench, search for the movie and start it.
Sheila’s face and her beautiful smile fill the screen. Then I come in view, pushing her tenderly out of the screen center with my head. We start kissing. I touch my lips and remember the soft smell of her strawberry flavored lipstick.
Somehow it feels unreal now.
All of a sudden, I can’t take it anymore. My finger hovers over the delete button. Taking a deep breath, I pull up Sheila’s voicemail.
Her shrieking voice sends a chill down my spine.
“Manuel, … call me, … something awful happened, call me, … I need to talk to you … you hear me. Please.” At the end of the sentence she is sobbing.
Shit! Is she pregnant? No, can’t be, we never actually did it … Did David rat on us?
I can’t call her now, I tell myself again. But she sounded so desperate.
I push the call button.
It rings only once, “You little bastard! If I get my fin…” I almost drop the phone. A deep, male voice. Her father. Hastily, I hang up. After two seconds the phone rings again, “Cause all of me loves all of you.”
Shaking uncontrollably, I search through the menu to shut the phone down. I can’t find it. Abruptly I throw it on the ground and kick it away.
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Please, leave a comment if you like the story. Part 4, is coming soon …