Every Time I Saw Him Sitting out in Front of the Walton S Pharmacy and Ice Cream Shoppe

Howard & Charlie

By Callie Massey

Every time I saw him sitting out in front of the Walton’s Pharmacy and Ice Cream Shoppe, I’d do my best to ignore him. I’d be quick and duck my head down as soon as I got a look at him sitting at one of those white tables that Mr. Walton has outside with the pink umbrellas on top. Mom once saw me duck my head so I wouldn’t have to look at him. Real quick, she boxed me on the ear and told me to sit up straight.

“Mornin’, Charlie,” she said in her sweetest voice. The same voice she used when Dad had a bad day.

“Good morning, Miss Eileen.”

His voice was gruff. It reminded me of what The Hulk might sound like if he smoked as much as Charlie did. But, then, nobody smoked as much as Charlie. That guy was a regular freight train.

When I was real little, I thought that Charlie’s smoking was what had made him so dark. Mother told me that was silly. Charlie was just born that way. Well, I know that now. But I was really little then. Like seven or something. I’m much older now and I don’t think that anymore.

I’ve always liked Charlie’s color. The same color as chocolate milk when you add a bunch of chocolate and just a little bit of milk. But, even though I thought he had a nice color, something about him bothered me. He wasn’t like me or my parents. He was old; so old his hair had turned white. Like it was too tired to be black anymore, or even gray. Like the color in it needed a break, so it just left for a vacation and never came back.

I’ll never know what made me go and sit down next to Charlie that Saturday afternoon. Maybe it was because all my buds were gone and I had nothing else to do. I could have gone in the shop and gotten a sundae or something. But I didn’t. I saw Charlie sitting all alone under that pink umbrella and it got me real sad. A grown man shouldn’t have to sit there looking so lonely.

“Hey there, Mr. Charlie.”

He hadn’t seen me coming up, so he jumped a little. “Hi, Howard.”

That always made me mad about Charlie. Nobody called me Howard because they all knew I liked being called Howie better. But that Charlie, he always called me Howard.

“What are you doing?” I asked as nice as I could.

Charlie shrugged. “Waiting for somebody to need some help.”

See, Charlie didn’t have a real job. All he did was sit outside of Walton’s Pharmacy and Ice Cream Shoppe and wait for somebody to need his help with something around their house.

“That’s nice, Charlie. Get any good jobs lately?” Charlie looked tired. Like he didn’t really want to be sitting here with me, answering these questions. “I’m sorry, Charlie,” I said, thinking I’d bothered him. “I just thought you’d want some company.”

And I got up and left him alone. I didn’t want to be rude; even if I was still a little scared of Charlie and his sleepy hair. My mother told me to never be rude. Not even to Charlie. And it didn’t matter if everybody else in town called him “nigger” or “monkey.” I was never to say those words or do anything to bother Charlie. And that’s why I left. I hated getting in trouble.

While I was walking home from sitting with Charlie at Walton’s Pharmacy and Ice Cream Shoppe, I started thinking. The heavy kind of thinking that makes you frown and sometimes scratch your chin because you’re just so confused that your hand starts getting bored from all the thinking and needs something to do.

Charlie was always sitting out in front of that shop wearing a Sunday suit and a hat. When an adult walked over to him, he’d stand up quick and take off his hat. Even if the people were younger than him. Dad said he did it because he was respectful. He’d talk real quiet and nod his head a lot and then he’d follow them home and do whatever it was they needed doing. And, as soon as he finished there, he’d go back to Walton’s Pharmacy and Ice Cream Shoppe and sit at the table again until somebody else had a job for him.

I was just walking inside the house when I heard a loud banging sound in the kitchen. Mother said something under her breath and then there was more banging. I ran to the kitchen to see what was going on. The beginnings of a pie were sitting on the stove and the oven door was open. Mother had shoved herself all the way in there up to her shoulders.

“Mom?”

She jumped when she heard me and banged her head against the top of the oven. She said some more stuff so low I couldn’t hear and then slid out or the oven.

“Howie,” she said. “What are you doing home?”

I shrugged. “Oven busted?”

She smiled at me real sweet. “Looks like it.” She was wearing pants and a loose t-shirt, so I knew she’d have to run up the stairs and change pretty soon because Dad didn’t like it when she wore pants. And you didn’t want to make Dad mad sometimes.

“Want me to go get Charlie?” I asked. I was real excited about getting a chance to get Charlie for my mom. She always had to walk all the way to the store by herself because Dad didn’t like her driving. And if Dad saw her in pants during the day, he’d be real mad.

Mom looked nervous. I knew she was thinking the same thing that I was: Dad might not like Charlie coming over in the middle of the day.

“I guess you’d better. I have to start supper in a few minutes.”

I ran all the way to Walton’s Pharmacy and Ice Cream Shoppe. What if Charlie wasn’t there? What if somebody else had gotten to him first? Maybe Ms. Simmons had a problem with her sewing machine again. She always had something for Charlie to fix. I was starting to get real mad at Ms. Simmons so I ran faster. And then I saw Charlie. He wasn’t with Ms. Simmons. He was all alone under that pink umbrella just like I’d left him. When he saw me running like that his eyes got real big and he stood up fast. He didn’t even take his hat off he was so worried.

“Howard. Whatcha runnin’ for, son?” he asked in that real gruff voice.

“Charlie, our oven is busted. You gotta come help.”

I’d never heard Charlie laugh before, so I was a little nervous when he started to. It was real loud and clean sounding. Not like his gruff voice. “That ain’t no emergency, boy,” he said. “Let’s go. But let’s walk this time. I’m too old to be runnin’ that way.”

So me and Charlie walked back to my house. Every now and then Charlie said something to me, but we mostly stayed quiet. I had a lot of stuff I wanted to say to Charlie, but figured against it. I might be rude. And I hate getting in trouble.

By the time we reached my house, Charlie was sweaty and breathing hard. I wondered how he’d manage fixing our oven if he was so worn out. But I guess he’d walked farther than this before. So he’d be fine.

When we walked into the kitchen, Mom was buried in the oven again.

“Miss Eileen?” Charlie said real quiet.

Mom jumped again and hit her head on the top of the oven. She said the same words that I couldn’t understand and then slid out of the oven.

“Hello, Charlie,” she said in her sweet voice. Then she smiled. “Thanks for coming.”

“Not a word for it,” Charlie said. “You just let me look that thing over. I’m sure it ain’t nothing big.”

I could hear a sound from the street.

“Well,” my mom started saying. “it’s never happened before. I figure the pilot just blew. But I can’t get to it.”

The sound got closer.

“Mom?”

“But maybe it’s something else.” She smiled at Charlie again. “I’m not much good with these things.”

“Mom!”

My mother frowned at me. Charlie bent and began looking into the oven just as she got a look out the window and saw my dad pulling in. By the time Charlie turned around to say he had it under control, my mom was upstairs.

"Family of track stars." He laughed and then turned his attention back to the oven.

The front door opened and I heard my dad putting his coat and hat on the rack.

"Eileen!" he shouted, making his way to the kitchen. He walked in and looked around. When he saw Charlie in the oven, his eyes got real big. You know, like in cartoons when they see something exciting like a pretty lady in a red dress? That's what Dad looked like. I guess he wasn't sure what he was looking at, because he started frowning.

"Hey, Dad."

He looked at me and his eyes stopped popping out of his head. "Howie."

That's all he said. Just "Howie". That's all he usually said when he got home from work and wasn't having a good day. He'd probably ask me to leave the room pretty soon. Right about then, Mom came back downstairs, this time wearing a green dress instead of her pants and shirt.

"Hello, Mark." She smiled. The same way she'd been smiling at everyone. Real sweet.

"Eileen." He nodded at her and then looked at me and then at Charlie.

"The oven broke," my mom said, still smiling all nice at him. "So Howie went and got Charlie for me."

"Yeah, Dad!"I said. I felt my face making a big, crinkly grin. "I ran all the way to Walton's Pharmacy and Ice Cream Shoppe."

He nodded at me.

"Eileen," he said. "can you come with me into the next room? Just for a minute or two?"

Mom stopped smiling. "Sure, dear."

Charlie slid outof the oven and looked around all nervous. He didn't look like he liked what was going on. I don't know what his problem was. It wasn't a big deal. My mom and dad went into the living room and Dad shut the door behind him so me and Charlie couldn't hear anything. I hate when he does that. It's not like I don't know what they're talking about. Dad is mad because Mom couldn't fix the stove. It didn't take a genius. But, for some reason, I was starting to get embarrassed.

"Is your ma ok in there?" Charlie asked. He’d taken off his jacket, so I could see the sweat marks under his armpits.

"Yeah. Dad's just mad 'bout somethin'. It'll be fine."

But Charlie kept looking at the door like something bad was about to happen. We could hear little pieces of what Dad was saying.

"That... my house....woman... tramp."

Mom would say something back, but she was real quiet, so me and Charlie couldn't hear any of it. I wish she talked louder.

"Nasty... do not... or I swear..."

Charlie was standing now. He was still nervous.

"What's wrong, Charlie? Can't you fix the oven?"

"The oven is fixed, Howard." He started scratching his chin, so he must have been thinking real hard about something. "They do this a lot? Talk like that?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. But only when Dad is mad. I don't payany attention though. Dad said I shouldn't."

Charlie looked down at thekitchen floorand then back at the door. Then, he started walking over to the door. But he walked slowly, like he wasn't really sure if he wanted to go there or something. When he got to the door, he started knocking on it. Not hard or anything, but he stopped pretty quick. Dad was getting really loud.

"Just who do you think you are?" he was screaming.

There was a loud popping sound. Kind of like when you blow air into a paper bag and then hit it with your fist at lunch to scare the girls at the next table. Well, this time it scared Charlie. He jumped up and then backed up from the door.

"What did he just do, Howard?" Charlie asked me.

I shrugged. "I dunno. I can't see 'em." Charlie was really scared. Way more scared than Hannah Barges gets when I hit a paper bag at lunch. "Gee, Charlie. What's wrong?"

But Charlie wasn't listening. He was just looking at the door. And then, he walked in and shut the door behind him like Dad always does. Charlie was really starting to get on my nerves. I mean, Dad shuts doors too, but at least he calls me Howie before he does it.

Dad was yelling at Charlie. But now he was too loud for me to understand. I snuck over to the door and opened it. Just a crack. I didn't want to get caught. I hate getting in trouble.

“Mind your business,” Dad was saying. "Don't tell me how to treat my family in my house."

"Sir," Charlie whispered. "I ain't a smart man. I ain't a rich man. I'm just a poor black man. But I know what's right and what's wrong. And, sir, what you're doing just ain't right."

Mom grabbed Charlie by the arm. She had a red mark on her cheek. "You don't have to do this, Charlie."

"Yes, ma'am. I do."

I didn't see Dad wind up. I didn't even see him hit Charlie. But I did hear it. It wasn't the same as the popping sound from earlier. It was scarier. If I did that at the lunch table, Hannah would probably wet her pants.

Charlie fell down. It was weird, such a tall guy falling so far. When he hit the floor, Mom started screaming.

"Mark!" she yelled at Dad. "Are you out of your mind?"

She got down on her knees and started shaking Charlie like she shakes me in the morning to get me up for school. I guess I moved or something, because Mom saw me. And that's when she started to cry. I hate when my mom cries. It's just about the saddest thing in the world to have to look at.

"Howard!" she yelled. "Go, get out. Go upstairs."

My dad was sitting in one of the living room chairs with his head in his hands. There was blood all around Charlie.

"Mom, Charlie needs a doctor."

"Go, Howard!"

About ten minutes later, while I was sitting on my bed thinking about Charlie, I heard a loud screechy sound coming closer. I ran over to the window and saw a big, white ambulance coming to our house. That made me feel a little bit better. The doctor would make Charlie feel better. Like when I fell down the stairs when I was 8. I went to a doctor and he fixed me up. So Charlie should be fine now.

Mom followed the ambulance in Dad's car. I guess Dad figured it was alright for her to drive just this once.

I didn't go downstairs all night. Not even for dinner. But that was ok, I wasn't hungry anyway. Dad knocked on my door a few times, but I just told him I was tired. I didn't want to talk to him. I figured I'd have to stop talking to him for a week or two.

"Howie," he said once. "You want to talk, buddy?"

"Nah, Dad. I'm real tired. It's probably 'cause I ran all the way to Walton's Pharmacy and Ice Cream Shoppe."

"Yeah. That's probably it." And then he stayedat the door for a while. I know because he was breathing real hard and I could hear.

I fell asleep real late that night. Around 10:00. That was way past my bedtime, but I didn't care. Even though I hate getting in trouble.

The next morning, nobody came to wake me up, so I slept in a lot later than I had wanted to. Igot dressed as fast as I could and then ran all way to Walton's Pharmacy and Ice Cream Shoppe again.

Charlie was sitting under the pink umbrella, but he wasn't wearing his suit and hat. He was sitting in a pair of worn out jeans and a white button up shirt. His hair looked even more tired than usual, too. I was about to run over and talk to him when I saw Ms. Simmons start talking to him.

"Hello, Charlie. I have a little job for you."

Charlie looked up at her and smiled a real little smile. "I'm sorry, Ms. Simmons. I'm not here to work today."

She looked like she didn't believe him. "Aww, Charlie. C'mon. Just a little job."

"No, ma'am," he said. "I'm sorry. I’m not working today.”

She didn't say anything else to him, just walked away. When she was gone, Charlie started looking down at the ground and twittling his thumbs. So I walked over real slow.

"Charlie?"

He looked up at me the same way he'd looked at Ms. Simmons. Real tired, like he didn't want to go through the trouble of raising his head.

"Hello, Howard."

"You alright, Charlie?"

"Just fine."

I pulled out a chair and sat next to him. "Charlie, I'm real sorry about Dad. He doesn't mean it. Mom says he just gets mad sometimes. She says that some people just don't know how to hide their meanness, and Dad is one of them. So, in a way, we should feel bad for him, right?"

Charlie just looked at me like he didn’t know who I was. "Yeah, Howard. I think you might be right about that."

And we just kind of sat there for the rest of the afternoon. Charlie didn't say much and neither did I. I ordered a milkshake once and Charlie paid for it even thoughI asked him not to. He told me all about the stitches he'd gotten and how my mom had stayed with him and driven him home. He told me what a nice lady she was and I told him I already knew that. We didn't talk about my dad or about what had made him so mad. But I figure that's the way Charlie wanted it.