Mr. Church Page #2

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he go! drunk and crashed

his Chevy Camaro

into the living room

of Mr. and Mrs. Howard,

killing their 4-year-old son.

Spent three years

in juvenile penitentiary,

and no doubt the rest of his life

in the worst hell of all,

the one between the eyes.

How's... how's school,

Charlie?

We have a cook.

What, at the school?

At my house.

Oh, yeah.

That's far out.

Mama's going to tell him

to leave.

Why?

Who wouldn't want a cook?

Hi, Mama.

So, how was work today?

Good.

I saw Miss Carol's baby.

Hey, gorgeous.

Can't you see I'm with my child?

I saw Miss Carol's baby,

and I finally got him

to latch on for feeding.

You know, holding those babies,

it always makes me think

of the first time I held you.

Even if I was an accident.

Why on Earth would you say that?

Your daddy was the accident.

You, you're my miracle.

How much do I love you?

So much.

Mm-hmm.

So much.

So, how did the cook

take the news he was fired?

Oh, ma'am, I hope

you don't mind.

I bring books with me

every place I go,

and I noticed that your shelf

was kind of empty.

He's still here, Mama.

Why is he still here? Charlie,

we'll discuss this later.

That's great.

Cookbooks, right?

Oh, no, no, ma'am.

Not cookbooks.

I never read books

about cooking.

These are mostly novels

and plays and, you know,

about people like Capote

and Shakespeare.

Wow. And Greeks and

Agatha Christie.

And here's one I think

the girl might like.

Autobiography of Shirley Temple.

Good Ship Lollipop.

I hate reading.

Charlie!

Oh, that is a shame,

because there's nothing like

a really good story.

Keep your stupid books.

Hey, that's enough.

No, that's okay, ma'am.

But, listen, if you do ever want

to read one of these books,

you're going to have

to check it out.

What, like a library?

Exactly like a library.

Made a card up for you

and everything.

And ma'am, you feel free. Whenever

you want, you can read these books.

And if you like,

I'll bring more.

A house could always

use books, right?

I'm sorry, Mr. Church.

She'll get used to it.

She's just a child.

She doesn't understand.

Oh, sure, ma'am.

Look, I'll have dinner ready

for you and the child

about 6:
00 tonight,

then after that

I'll take care of the dishes.

Then I'll take my leave

for the evening.

6:
00 it is.

Thank you, Mr. Church.

You're most welcome.

Dinnertime.

I'm not hungry.

Baby...

This is the way

it's going to be.

So, I suggest you find a way

to stop complaining

and start enjoying the food.

Mr. Church asked me

to give you this.

Complaining wasn't easy to stop.

Oh.

Enjoying the food was a breeze.

Wow.

Enjoy.

But I wasn't about to let

Mr. Church or Mama know it.

Charlie, come on, eat it.

As far as they were

concerned, every bite was torture for me.

Secretly, I couldn't wait to taste

what was coming next.

Ana' what came next was always

something magnificent.

It was like e party every night.

Every morning.

It was like a party

every afternoon.

I finally let Poppy

over to meet Mr. Church.

Once I did,

I couldn't get rid of her.

Mr. Church,

this is the best lemonade

I've ever tasted.

The secret to that,

my dear, is the licorice.

You and your secrets,

Mr. Church.

My sister loved

the banana bread you made.

Oh, thank you, Poppy-

"My sister loved the

banana bread you made."

She did.

And in the

morning, Mr. Church was in the kitchen

long before I was awake.

The smells of cooking

were like my alarm clock.

Mr. Church could make or bake

anything you wanted,

and even things

you didn't know you wanted

until after you tasted them.

I never once sew Mr. Church

use e measuring tool

or any fancy utensil.

Just his hands, fork, and knife.

Come on, baby.

We'll be late for the bus.

Oh, I've got a winner.

This is the toothpaste

that Charlie likes.

So, I finished this one.

I still don't see why

they couldn't be together.

Next time, I want a story

that's not going to make me

CW my eyes out.

Some writers ain't happy

till they made the reader cry.

And some readers

ain't happy till they do.

Hmm.

I'd watch Mr. Church leave,

knowing that

in just a few short hours,

he'd return with bags and bags

of goodies to explore.

Whoa!

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Oh, baby! I got her. I

got you, I got you.

Are you okay? I got you.

She's okay.

Oh, my God. Thank you. Let

me get this stuff here.

Thank you, Mr. Church.

It's okay.

Yeah, there's glass everywhere.

Watch where you're stepping.

Let me...

Watch out.

No, I got it.

I got this, ma'am.

Let me...

I'll take care of this.

Okay, thank you.

What child would like

to get cut?

Mr. Church.

I'd like to check out

a book, if that's okay.

How about if I make

some suggestions.

Now, this is kind of long,

but it's worth the journey.

I read it a couple of times myself,

so you don't got

to be gentle with it.

Books was meant to be broken in.

Good night, my dear.

So, you like your eyes

You think

they're kind of cute

You like your smile

You think

that it's a beaut

So you like you

Huh

You think you're cute

So, you think

you're cute

Well, baby

So do I

And through if all,

I never knew about the promise

Mr. Church made to Richard.

I never knew Mama was dying.

I never knew anything

until much, much later.

The only thing I knew

at ten years old

was that one morning I woke up

and we had a cook.

And one other thing.

He was to be gone in six months.

But six months...

turned into six years.

Turns out Mama was a miracle.

She boxed that mean, old cancer

every day, giving it lefts,

rights, uppercuts.

And all the while,

I never knew she was is the ring.

Hey, Charlie.

Hi.

Owen, is it true

that Stevie hasn't

asked me to the prom

because his folks don't approve?

Don't know anything about it.

I heard he's taking Nora Williams

because she's a notorious virgin.

Ugh, I told my sister

never to honk.

She just can't help

embarrassing me.

I can't wait till I'm 18.

I can get away

from this stinking place.

Walk you to the bus?

Sure.

Are you really

going to read all these?

I already did.

Just returning them.

How's your mom doing?

She's fine.

Coming to the game tonight?

I can't really go out at night.

Not ever?

Not even for, say, prom?

Would you go with me, Charlie?

I... I got to go.

I... I... I got to go.

I'll take that as a maybe.

Every time I walked in that room,

I held my breath

so I could listen for hers.

Hoping it would still be there.

Sometimes it was so soft

I had to climb onto the bed

and put my ear up to her mouth

just to make sure.

Other times,

it was so heavy with struggle

that I had to back as far away

as I could just to stand it.

And other times,

it was all Mama.

There she is.

I have a plate of cheese and

grapes for you in the ice box.

How's she doing?

She had a good day.

And you, my dear,

have come at the perfect time.

You need to wake her

so she can eat.

I want you to take this to her.

I have homework.

Oh, come on, Charlotte.

She had a good day.

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