The Idea Book

Manny Rogers never pictured himself working in the Morton Street Diner. He thought when he graduated high school; he would own a restaurant or even own a store selling nothing but vintage comic books

“An entrepreneur” He would often think of various get affluent quick ventures; How would he get the money? That's a different story; Manny would say he would “Just figure it out.”

Manny walks into the Morton Street Diner, grabbing his apron from the rack, quickly whooshing past the head waitress Barb, the apron’s gust of wind making her hair frolic in the Diner’s lackluster air conditioning for a brief second.

“Someone’s in a hurry!” Barb blurted out. She was turning around to see the tail end of Manny walking back to the kitchen. Manny ignored her but smiled at her presence; he picked up a black book that had a white piece of tape on it. “Manny’s idea book” was written in black marker on the tape. Manny rubbed his finger over the tape, feeling the edge, pressing down on the tape, then rubbing his fingers together to feel the dry adhesive. Manny smiled, took a pen from his apron, and opened the poorly kept but classic and personable journal.

“Two waffles, eggs. Don’t run em` and two slices of a pig,” Barb yelled from the doorway; she stuck a ticket on the panel and winked at Manny.

Manny ignored her and began scribbling in his book.

“20K,” he wrote. He wrote it again and again. He wrote “20K” a dozen times until he looked up and noticed the food ticket on the panel.

“What in the world are you writing in that dang book?” said Barb, uninterested but asking anyway.

Manny began mixing batter for waffles and grabbing a few utensils.

“I read last night that if you want something, you write it down. Eventually, it’ll become true.”

Manny said, not looking up to Barb while working on the meal.

“Well, what did you write?” Barb asked.

“I can’t tell you, It might not come true!”

Manny sounded refreshingly positive.

“So it’s like wishing upon a shooting star, huh`? Barb laughed and walked away to tend to her guests without waiting for a response.

After his shift, Manny took his apron off, grabbed his black book, and quickly walked past the overnight cook Derrick, out the door, and into the busy street. Manny is tired and sleepy, but when he sees the light for coffee across the street, he looks back at Morton Street Diner as if to say, “Yes, I can get free coffee at work, but not an iced latte” Manny smiles, and decides to walk to the popular coffee chain were the coffee light is.

Before Manny could walk twelve feet, a sound stopped him on the sidewalk. A shriek, a woman's voice, sounded like she was out of breath. Manny turned in the noise direction and saw Barb on one knee next to a brown Corolla parked in the alleyway. A man, tall and slim, kicked Barb and screamed at her.

“Get in the car!”

Manny knew this was Barb’s husband. An abusive, alcoholic thorn in Barb’s side. Manny had seen this before; her husband “Lenny” would come to pick her up from work drunk and make her drive home. Barb had told Manny a few times she had to stay with her sister or even sleep in her car due to the “disagreements” that she and her husband had gotten into. Barb was not a wealthy woman and didn’t have the luxury of packing her things up and moving on, Manny thought.

As Manny stood there watching the Corolla pull out of the alleyway, Lenny in the passenger seat blowing a puff of smoke from a cigarette out of the window, Manny pulled out his book.

“A better life for Barb,” he wrote. He wrote it again and again. He wrote “A better life for Barb” four more times, until a passer by bumped shoulders with him, making him scribble on one of the words.

Manny sat in the coffee shop, leeching off of the free wifi. He sips his latte and writes the idea for his comic book shop in his idea book. The business plan consisted of gathering up money for a retail spot and buying inventory, much of which Manny had in his mothers’ basement.

His mother, although supportive, was rather unsettled about this idea for a comic book store, for good reason with online stores being all the rage.

“Why do you fool with these old books, you should work for your brother at his warehouse, he makes real money you know!”

Manny would hear the statement in his head every time he sat down and had the audacity to think about chasing his own dreams.

When he was just ten years old, Manny’s grandfather had given him a box full of comic books, Spider Man, Batman, Thor, among many more.The most prized possession Of Manny's collection did not reside in his mothers basement but his most prized precious comic book set at his apartment mint condition wrapped in plastic vacuum sealed superman number one this is one comic that he held dear to him. Over the years, any money that Manny would acquire he would spend it usually on a new comic book. Manny estimated that he held about 300 comic books, along with manga’s and a few hundred other superhero biographies and similar story books. He had superhero action figures, wrestling figures, and memorabilia as well. Manny thought this would all be in his store one day. It went as far as his favorite character on The Simpsons was “Comic book guy”

Manny drank down his coffee, and closed his book, exiting the shop.

The next morning Manny, on his off day, woke up and slapped the alarm to stop beeping. He rolls over, stands up throwing the blanket off of his body and lumbers to the bathroom where he uses the toilet. The water came out of the faucet slowly as peanut butter again, Manny thought about calling the landlord over his apartment but he knew it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. After walking in the kitchen, opening the laptop that lay on the table along with comic book sketches, and a Chinese takeout box from a week ago, Manny fixes a cup of coffee. The oak, and caramel scent from the coffee maker filled the one bedroom apartment with a sweet aroma. Manny, sat in a chair typing and scrolling on his laptop, kissing the brim of his coffee mug.

Barb is at her home, cracking an egg on to the frying pan sizzling like a mean rattlesnake in a desert. A lit cigarette hangs out of Barb’s mouth, she feels a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m going to say that I’m sorry for last night” Lenny said.

Barb didn’t turn around, just nodded her head, and used a wooden spoon making a chopping sound on the frying pan.

“Make sure you cook that bacon too, then.” Lenny said, walking toward the dinner table.

Barb took the cigarette out of her mouth, and curved her eyebrow.

“You ate all the bacon yesterday. I came home and it was gone.” She said.

“Oh…” said Lenny.

“What do you mean oh? I’m tired of this Len. Tired.” Barb yelled.

Barb turned around, dumped a clump of eggs into a plate. She put the cigarette back in her mouth, and dropped the frying pan on the counter making a loud clanking sound.

Lenny sat down, and looked at Barb confused, she walked out of the room. Barb stuffs her cigarette butt in an ashtray on the way out.

Tears begin to gather in Barb’s eyes, a pool of emotion sits in her stomach as Lenny curses her from the other room. Barb goes to the basement, where she has her laundry to do, hoping it could take her mind from a sad episode, to a place that was consumed by her duties. She takes bundles of clothes out of the dryer and throws them in a hamper. Tired, and exhausted Barb flops down on the old, musty couch that sits in the corner of the room. She looks around the space, realizing she told Lenny months ago that it had to be cleaned, and things needed to be thrown out, like the couch that smelled like cat urine she currently sat on.

On an old tall bookshelf next to the couch, Barb notices a small black book.

“My old journal.” Barb said to herself in a whisper.

Barb stood up, stretched her arm to the top of the bookshelf and picked the book off, dust came swirling into Barb’s face, making her cough, and her eyes water. After, sitting down and thumbing through the many pages of which she assumed were just petty ramblings years ago before her and Lenny met, she sat the book down beside her and thought to herself.

Barb stood up, and walked to the otherside of the room, in a mason jar that still smelled of alcohol was two pens, she picked them both out and walked back to the cat urine couch and sat down. Barb opened the journal again, and turned the pages until she found a blank space, she picked up one of the pens and tried to write but the ink had dried up, presumably ages ago. The second pen worked, after scribbling around the page, making sure the pen had ink in it, she wrote

“GET ME OUT OF HERE”

She skipped a line, then wrote it again, and again. She wrote it about ten times.

Shaking her head, Barb rips out the page, crumbling it up, and throws it in a trash bin.

“Stupid” she mumbles to herself, she continues to do the laundry.

Manny is at his apartment, surfing the web looking through ebay for newly posted comic books, or action figures. He stumbles upon a mint condition, Hulk Hogan action figure still in the packaging from 1992.

“The original” he said out loud to himself in his apartment.

After seeing the price, Manny realizes that he doesn’t have the sufficient funds to have this item, or even bid on it. Manny clicks on the “account” tab and scrolls to “selling” to see if any of his comics has risen in sales.

“Nothing,” Manny said.

A poorly packaged Spider Man from the 90’s, and an Incredible Hulk producing Manny just a mere $70.

Manny thought to himself it was worth it to drive to his Mother’s house, rummage through the see of comics in the basement, and maybe find a few that he wouldn’t mind seeing go. He would have to deal with his Mother’s nagging efforts to control his life, but maybe he could find something that was worth more than 70 bucks.

Manny had an idea, there was one comic book that didn’t reside at his mothers home.

Superman #1, First Solo Superman.

Manny’s prized possession, one of the first comic books he had bought on his own, sits in a box, with a lock and combination under Manny’s dingy twin bed. Manny pulled out the box, applied the code, and took the comic out, holding it like a newborn baby. Manny took pictures, uploaded his listing, put the book back in the box, and went on about his day.

The following morning started out like any other for Manny, neither struggling to get his life together before he headed to work, and attempting to be on time for work seemed far away. Manny did make it on time for work however, and he got there just in time to see Barb coming in. Lenny dropped her off at the front of the diner.

“Goodbye Len.” Barb said, closing the door walking on the curb.

Leeny’s only reply was speeding off in the brown corolla.

As Barb turns around, Manny is there to greet her.

“Good Morning Barb” Manny says with a smile, opening the door for her.

“And to you as well, Man” Barb replied, walking in before Manny.

The Diner was already buzzing, the overnight waitress had five tables by herself, and there were tables still to be cleaned. Manny noticed the overnight cook giving him a hard glance.

“Well, better get to work.” Said Manny. All day Manny thought about the Comic that he put on Ebay. He thought about, if people would even buy that it’s real, he thought about if people would even bid on it at all, and if they didn’t what would be the point of a comic book store?

Manny rushed home, closing the door behind him. He threw his book, and a bag of leftovers from the diner, on the counter. Manny looked at his laptop, sitting on the counter as he opened up the refrigerator grabbing a can of Mountain Dew. Manny sat down in a chair, and opened up the laptop.

Twenty-thousand dollars. Manny couldn’t believe his eyes. He stood up, walked around the apartment, and even cried a little bit. He jumped, and screamed for a second he even thought this may have been a dream, and at any moment now the beeping alarm would scare him awake.

“IM RICH” Manny screamed at such a high pitch his neighbors above and below him would surely hear.

Days pass, and Manny quits Morton Street diner. The workers in the front of house, and back of house all wished him luck in his future endeavors.

At Barb’s house, a bruised, and scared Barb sits on the kitchen floor, the brown Corolla backs out, and speeds down the dusty dirt road that leads to Lenny, and Barb’s home. This was a big one, Barb thought. Lenny had gotten physical with Barb before, but not to this extent. Defeated, and depressed, Barb didn’t know what to do. Calling the cops wouldn’t do much as Lenny would just show up again and possibly hurt her. She lay on the kitchen floor sobbing, when a knock at the door caught her attention.

“It’s him.” she whispered to herself. She thought to herself that Lenny had forgotten his house key and was knocking to get back in.

“No, go away.” She said softly.

“Fedex!” A gravely man’s voice said from outside the house.

Barb stood up, collecting herself and turned the doorknob, opening the door only to show half her face.

“Are you Barbera?” The man in the Fedex uniform holding a scanner, and an envelope asked.

Barb nodded.

“Sign here please” The Fedex man said.

Barb scribbled on the scanner, and took the package without saying a word. She sat down at her dinner table confused because she wasn’t much of an online shopper, and didn’t see many delivery trucks down her street.

Barb opened the envelope, pulled out a piece of paper, and read it.

“Dear Barb, you were always my favorite person to work with. Remember if you want something to happen, write it down and it might just happen.”

Signed Manny.

Attached to the paper was a check made out to Barb for $10,000.