I wake up when he walks in the room.
But I pretend I’m asleep. I’m too nervous to talk to my brother.
He switches the light on and gets himself ready for bed. When he’s all set, he sits on his mattress, facing me.
“Hey, Man.” I yawn like he just woke me up.
“Hey, T.”
“It’s good to see you.”
“You, too.”
He swallows hard and says, “Thanks for getting in the way.”
My God, how am I supposed to respond to that? No prob, bro. Anytime?
I don’t know what else to say. So I ask him if he really means it.
He says he does and it’s not going to happen again.
I let that one hang in the air for a bit. “Really, Man? You sure?”
“Tío Ed and the group guys, especially Charlie and Lou. They just wore me down. They attached themselves to me. Tío Ed almost never left my room. They got me talking. There’s stuff I need to do. People I want to see.”
“That’s good, Manny.”
“Mami and Papi. You and Xoch. Frank. I wanna see Elena again. We got really tight in Delano. And Gladys.”
“Gladys? Abita’s Gladys?”
Manny says they’ve been texting. She’s been rooting for him. He says he let her down with what he did. He says he let us all down.
I tell Manny he scared me.
He says he’s sorry.
“I’m still scared, Man.”
“Me, too, T. But there’s stuff I wanna make right. Stuff I’ve done that I’m not proud of. If I’m not here, I can’t make any of it better.”
He starts talking about his future. Going to college. Farming. Getting married someday. Having kids someday.
I tell him it’s good to hear him talking.
“I feel a lot better,” he says. “But I got a long way to go.”
“You’re gonna get there, Manny.”
“I think so.” Then he climbs in bed. “Big workday today. I’m gonna get a couple hours.”
“Sleep well, Manny.”
He switches off the light. “See you in the morning.”
“See you in the morning, Man.”
* * *
Xochitl flips opens the shade. Sun pours into the room. “Up and at ’em!”
Tío Ed’s there, too. He’s holding pill bottles and paperwork in his hands. He looks right at me. “First things first. I know that even before you came down here, you’ve had a rough time sleeping in close proximity to your brother.”
“No,” I say. “It’s fine. I’m fine. What’s going on?”
“It’s all right, T,” Manny says. “We have to talk about this.”
What we talk about is everyone involved—including Manny—agreed that he should still have someone sleeping in the room with him. But they’re worried about me being traumatized by everything that’s happened. In the Captain’s Quarters. On the road. And here in Hatch.
So Tío Ed says he’ll sleep in Manny’s room. Xochitl says, no, she’ll sleep in Manny’s room. Ed says even the group guys say they’ll take turns.
I appreciate that they’re worried. I really do. But I want everyone to stop making a big deal about this. I don’t want Manny to feel bad. I don’t want him to think I’d be relieved to get away from him.
“Tío Ed,” I say, “I’m a light sleeper. I know I’ll get up if Manny gets up. Xochitl can sleep through anything. Same with old guys. You sleep like logs. So I’m good right here. I’m not switching rooms.”
Eventually, they give in and say I can stay with Manny. But the minute things get rough, other arrangements will be made.
Next order of business is drugs.
There will be a daily meds chart—signed and dated by Dr. Fuentes so we know that we’re working off the correct, current prescription.
Tío Ed describes the demeaning pill-taking protocol, which I’m going to be a part of.
I hate that we’re treating Manny like a baby. “You okay with this, Man?”
“It’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“T, if I don’t do it this way, I have to get admitted. Part of the deal with Doc.”
So I do it. I check the list. Check the pill bottle. I watch Manny take one out. Put it on his tongue. Watch him swallow. Then search Manny’s mouth and under his tongue for a hidden pill, as he says AHHH and makes a big silly show, trying to convince us this whole thing isn’t extremely awkward.
The protocol complete, Manny says, “Can we get to work now?”
“Sounds good to me,” Xochitl says.
“Let’s get to it,” Tío Ed says. “The world needs its chile.”