So Long, Chester Wheeler(17)

“Don’t you need to take down your underwear?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not wearing any.”

I sighed deeply.

“Because of course you’re not,” I said.

I instinctively looked down as a way of beginning the task.

“Don’t look!” he shouted.

“Sorry. Force of habit. I’m used to looking at what I’m doing.”

“Well, don’t.”

I leaned forward, still in our bear hug, and let his great weight settle. Chester was a heavy man, and there was a moment when every muscle in my body trembled with the strain. But a moment later I heard him sigh as he settled his bulk onto the toilet seat.

“Okay, now go away,” he said, his voice hard.

“Can you wipe yourself?”

It was a horrible question, because of the horrible possibility that the answer might be no. Which would have been horrible.

“Of course I can wipe myself. Just how weak do you think I am? Damn, Lewis. I’m not dead yet. Now get out of here.”

With great relief, I did as I had been told.



I stayed over and we set up to watch Monday Night Football, in return for me coming in late the next day. Okay, I set up. Chester sat there in his wheelchair chanting something about the Buffalo Bills, which seemed odd because they were not one of the teams playing.

I brought him a beer—one beer—during the kickoff, and then retreated to the kitchen to make microwave popcorn.

When I got back out, he was pounding his thighs in excitement.

“What did I miss?” I asked, handing him the bowl of popcorn.

“What do you care? You don’t watch football.”

“How do you know I don’t watch football?”

“Oh, come on, Lewis.”

My stepfather had been a big football person. While I was growing up he’d sat glued to every game, shouting at the screen and drinking beer. I’d watched with him, and learned the game, as a way of trying to bond with the guy. It ultimately fell short of the goal. But I had no intention of sharing any emotional details of my past with Chester Wheeler.

I sat down on the couch about ten feet from his wheelchair.

“Who do we like?” I asked.

He briefly looked away from the game to narrow his eyes at me.

“I like Dallas. You can like whoever you want.”

Before I could even respond, he became suddenly agitated over the conclusion of a pass play, and began throwing handfuls of popcorn in the general direction of the TV screen.

“Throw a flag!” he shouted in that gravelly voice of his. “That wasn’t pass defense, that was a mugging!”

He followed his pronouncement with another handful of thrown popcorn.

I watched it bounce and roll on the shag carpet for a moment. Then I reached over and grabbed the remote and muted the game.

“Hey!” he shouted. “What’re you doing? Turn that back up!”

“In a minute,” I said.

“No, now! I’m watching this.”

“And if you want to keep watching it, you’d better listen to what I have to say. Because I’m not turning the sound back up until I’ve said it.”

“What? Hurry up.”

“You don’t get to throw popcorn on the rug.”

“Can if I want. It’s my house.”

“But I’m the one who has to clean it up.”

“So clean it up. It’s what you’re getting paid to do.”

I could see his eyes nervously following the action on the screen. Then the game coverage broke for a beer commercial, and I watched his face relax some.

“No,” I said.

“You can’t say no. It’s your job.”

“Oh, I can say no. I can and I will. Just watch me. Here’s the thing, Chester. Do yourself a favor and absorb this next part. If you were a nice guy who could employ any help he wanted without driving them away, you’d have more power. But you’re not, and you don’t. I’m pretty much Last Chance City in your life, my friend. You honestly think Ellie is going to fire me? To be replaced by whom?”

“Whom?” he repeated, mocking me.

“Yeah, ‘whom.’ It’s called English grammar. You should try it sometime. Now listen up, Chester. Here’s the way it’s going to be. I will clean up the floor of anything that ends up there accidentally. If you purposely throw food on the floor, I’ll leave it there. I’ll leave it there until it molds, and ants and cockroaches and mice show up to eat it. Or, if you prefer, I’ll pick it up this one time, after you make me a solemn promise that you’ll never do that again. If you make the promise and break it, next time it stays there and becomes part and parcel of your shag carpeting. Possibly not the worst thing to ever happen to it, I might add. And, by the way, the reason there was no flag thrown for pass interference on that play is because the ball was uncatchable anyway.”

I stopped talking, but Chester didn’t start. He just sat there in silence. I think I had caught him speechless. A real occasion, considering the source.

I thought, Mark this day on your calendar.

The game came back on, and I turned up the sound.

Just at that moment my cell phone rang, and the caller ID told me it was Ellie. I got up and took it in the kitchen.