The only time I wasn't embarrassed of Charlie as a second basemen was when he got beaned and charged the mound. First he threw the bat at the pitcher and then his helmet but both the bat and helmet missed because Charlie threw like a girl. This was another reason I was embarrassed to call him my brother.
So there's Charlie charging the mound and I'm yelling from the bleachers keep your goddamned left up this time Charlie.
That was the end of his baseball career and we both said good riddance to that on the way home.
But like me again Charlie looked especially handsome in his baseball uniform so we always had that to fall back on.
Charlie called his camp uniform a jumpsuit and he said it was the kind Chinese karate fighters would wear in the movies. I asked him once what color belt he was and he said they wouldn't let anyone wear belts so it didn't matter. I asked him how he kept his pants from falling down and he said that's why they make us wear jumpsuits instead.
Charlie didn't say if he sweated in that suit and I didn't ask because Charlie didn't like to talk about sweat. I asked him about sweat one time and he smacked me across the nose and said you shouldn't ask questions like that about people. So I don't know if he did sweat in that jumpsuit and if he did did he chafe too.
If he did chafe it was probably the counselors who brought him powder.
I can see Charlie holding his situation while some counselor in a white coat and clipboard applied the powder for him.
Charlie looking like he did on the canvas after a vicious knockout.
Charlie and I would watch karate movies whenever there weren't any boxing or bullfighting movies on for us. Charlie liked it how I could sound like one of those Chinese karate fighters because of my great ear. He was on the floor whenever I did a Chinese karate fighter for him. How I did this is I would bow to Charlie first and then rise up into a fancy karate move where I would kick with my right leg and land on my left all the while chopping the air with my bare hands. Then I would move my lips around fast and say something like asshole you have disgraced my sister's honor. The sister was always a peasant girl from a fishing village and the Chinese karate fighter was her older brother.
On the floor Charlie told me they didn't call each other asshole instead they said ah so you have disgraced my sister's honor.
He said he liked his jumpsuit because this way he didn't have to decide what to wear every day. He said it was comfortable and good for meditating in though he didn't meditate anymore. When I asked him why not he said it was none of my business.
Charlie would say it was none of my business right before going into his room to masturbate so I always knew what he meant by that.
This morning I drew a stick Charlie inside the ring with a stick Muhammed Ali. How you can tell it's Charlie is he is scared to death and how you can tell it's Muhammed Ali is he isn't.
I had Muhammed Ali dance rings around Charlie and then Charlie gets impatient like always and Ali knocks him out with a wicked combination. The next drawing has Charlie on the canvas and there's Ali dancing over him. He is taunting Charlie and who could blame him.
If you look off to the corner you can see stick me climbing through the ropes to wake Charlie up. I have a stick water bottle in my hand and I'm about to squirt Charlie and tell him he's lucky to be alive.
Saying I am in the middle of this conversation means the conversation will continue another thirty-two years or so I think.
I was never good at math and neither was Charlie so he couldn't help me with it. Mother made us do our homework together at the kitchen table every afternoon when we got home but she didn't like it when we asked for help. She said she already went to school and that part of her life was over. She said we had to figure it out on our own because that's how the world works. This is only when she was unemployed because when she wasn't she'd still be at work. Those days Charlie and I would watch the television together instead of doing homework like most normal kids our age. Then when Mother would come home with our sandwiches and coleslaw she'd ask did we do our homework and we always said yes we did.
I am probably two-thirds to three-quarters to almost done with the conversation with myself if you can believe that sort of thing without a calendar.
Should the phone ring I might let the machine answer because sometimes I arrange for the machine to say nothing when it answers. Sometimes I have the machine sound a long beep and then say nothing on the other side of the beep. Sometimes I want it that when people leave a message they might wonder if they've dialed the wrong number instead.
This nothing when the machine answers is similar to the nothing on the telephone and similar to dead air. This nothing goes on forever like before the earth without form and void.
I like to see how uncomfortable people are when they come across this nothing for the first time. It's like they don't know what to do with themselves. I sometimes listen to them leaving messages for me and I laugh until I hyperventilate and fall down. They don't know I am listening while they leave this message so it's even better. What they do is mumble the hello how are you and they sound like Mother gave them too many pills.
This morning when the phone rang was another story altogether.
I said the hello how are you and the doctor on the other end said this is another story altogether.
I said start from the beginning and don't leave anything out please.
The doctor said pay attention because I will not repeat myself.
I said make sure you speak slowly this way if I have to think about one word too long I won't miss too much.
The doctor said once there was a man who began every story with the phrase once there was a man.
I said to him how tedious.
The doctor said tedious indeed.
Then the doctor said this was a dull man witless and unoriginal. He was not a good friend to the few friends he had and his family had disowned him when he was quite young.
I said Mother tried to disown us herself but she lost the paperwork. I said this is why Mother was always getting fired all the time.
The doctor said listen to my story and hold thy tongue.
I said fine then where were we.
The doctor said this man was possessed of an undeniable charisma and his ability to weave a compelling narrative was unmatched. He could hold forth with kings and queens and as easily as anyone.
I said when I try to sound like anyone the caller hangs up on me.
The doctor said his audiences always knew what was coming with this plot turn or that one and they still could not tear themselves away.
I said my brother Charlie was a lot like this before the boxing.
Then the doctor said when he died no one mourned for him and no one attended what could only be described as a modest funeral. To this day his tombstone makes no mention of his incredible storytelling.
I said to the doctor why are you telling me this and the doctor said think about it and I will try you again tomorrow.
This is why should the phone ring tomorrow I will have another decision to make.
Unless I decide to stop forever with the words and concentrate on the voice.
The doctor has the kind of voice that makes you wish for too many pills.
Should the phone ring I will ignore it and continue the conversation with myself instead. Sometimes I will talk to Charlie in my head if I haven't spoken with him on the phone recently. The Charlie in my head is almost exactly like the Charlie on the phone. They are both of them tall and smart and more like Charlie used to be than he is now.
We might talk about how we used to watch television and sing songs together or how Mother would give us a dollar to chase after the ice cream truck at night and how we'd end up on the other side of the neighborhood for two lousy popsicles. Otherwise we talk about what I do here every day and how they took my clothes from me and won't give me a television to watch.