Chapter 19

Cora

I AM sorry. Somehow I managed to forget that Beck lived in Henniker but commuted to Manchester for school. It’s too expensive to live right in Manchester. The only affordable housing in Manchester was a crib I wouldn’t use to house a dog. In the landing pattern of the busy airport, the place was noisy, disreputable and the street was frequented by street girls.

Rescuing her Toyota from long term parking, we scooted back to Henniker. Chuck was watching TV, playing games and reading ... all at once. We cleaned up the pizza boxes, soda cans, tossed the laundry in the washer, generally straightened up, walked to the Italian restaurant and got ready to leave.

The Toyota.

The Toyota was a grossly under-powered 1965 Corona two door hard top. Cute, but slow. Beck bought a wrecked Celica GT, took the 2 liter and five speed and shoved it in the Corona. Probably nobody told her she couldn’t do it because it wouldn’t fit ... the exhaust was on the wrong side. She did it by herself ... thank you, daddy.

All those years of watching and handing her father tools and lifting this or wiggling that taught her something; mostly that she liked the smell of motor oil and dirt washes off.

So, Becky had a hot rod sleeper. And a few speeding tickets to prove it.

As we gently packed the Royce ... including the roof rack ... there were furtive movements by the window curtains from the house across the street After a few twitches, a darkly beautiful girl stepped out and corralled Chuck.

Interesting. I asked Beck, “Who’s the chick?”

“Amber, the restaurant owners niece. She was in the car when her parents were killed in an accident that most likely wasn’t an accident. She has severe brain damage. I hope Chuck hasn’t been treating her badly.”

“How old?”

“Sixteen or seventeen ... I think,” Beck said. “Pretty isn’t she.”

“Gorgeous, that figure belongs in a centerfold.”

“Why don’t you slip up and listen ... I’ll finish carrying out your swag.”

So that’s what I did. I listened. Okay ... I snooped.

“Chuck, I wanted to thank you for being so nice to me,” Amber said.

“I didn’t do anything,” Chuck said.

“That is what I meant,” she said. “You didn’t try anything. You treated me like I was normal ... you didn’t pick on me for being stupid ... like the boys in school. You didn’t try to get in my pants like the college boys ... and some of the girls. I like you. Come see me again.”

She kissed him. “Thanks for being nice.” She turned around and bumped into me.

“You should be proud of your son ... I am.” She blushed. “Bye Chuck ... drive safe.”

As soon as I scrape my chin off the pavement ... I’ll speak.

This is Charles William we’re talking about ... you know ... awkward Chuck. The kid that trips over his own feet. The twelve year old? The guy that won’t go to school dances so he won’t have to speak to a girl. Yeah ... him. Chuck. Bashful, shy Chuck. My youngest.