You might think what I’m about to share with you today is just a mere hobby to me you and you would be absolutely correct.
I can tell you when and where that bizarre gift was presented to me. But for now, I will tell you that my gift to bring back the dead for the first time is real!
The first time and only time I did it was the time when Otis and Manny were sitting in the living room of Otis and his ugly wife Mrs. Margret’s house. We were all drinking Thunderbird wine.
I was only 16 years old at the time. They called me their runner.
My father couldn’t keep me away from them crazy drunks and their insane stories.
Mrs. Margret used to say why you two drunken idiots messin with the boy’s head with them unbelievable lies. Otis shouted back, shut up woman!
Then Manny co signed his sentiments with several bottom teeth missing.
I miss him while he’s doing life in prison at the tender age of 87. That particular day that they had me to run to the State Store with a note.
In Rankin, Pennsylvania or in that state in general you couldn’t buy liquor in any store. They had connections.
When I get back the two of them were arguing back and forth like they always did.
Otis always bragged that he was a retired bereavement coordinator who always shouted at the top of his lungs, when he ain’t drunk in which wasn’t that often. He proudly stated he was a professional who helps families with terminally ill or recently deceased loved ones. He tells anyone who would or will listen that he managed everything from the paperwork to appointments, handling the funeral service and supervising volunteers and staff so that the family going through a difficult time doesn't have to. Boy, listen to me! As a bereavement coordinator position is the type of counseling services as well and I would be responsible for arranging counseling for the bereaved when necessary.
Manny stood up and shouted to Otis, you know you be lying to that young whippersnapper.
Mrs. Margret comes from the kitchen and cosigns those lies Otis was preaching about.
Manny takes a big swig of the gallon bottle of Thunder bird wine and looks me directly in the eyes and said that he retired from being a hippo therapist, because his job combined therapy with riding horses. Otis abruptly interpolated that Manny never even rode a horse.
Manny went on to state it’s the type of therapy used for both children and adults he drunkenly clamored on. This career requires me to be a certified therapist with knowledge of different forms of disabilities and I was also had to be good with mechanical horses. Otis got up and snatch the big gallon bottle from Manny, as he kept talking about him being a Hippotherapy expert when he used to help improve the patient's recreation, socialization and interaction with others. In my job boy! I used to be a part of a team of experts that helps create plans and goals for patients.
Otis shouted for Manny to kiss his black crusty ass. I’m sitting there thinking to myself these two old dudes are insane or highly intelligent.
They didn’t believe in using glasses or even old jelly jars as they passes the cheap wine back and forth. Even Mrs. Margret got a sip from time to time.
When it was time for me to do another run I was pretty drunk myself. I stood in the doorway of the house as they all laughed at me, because I couldn’t figure out what direction to go. When Manny pushed me out the door I had no choice but to find out what direction I should take. When I finally got back with another gallon of that mind altering wine. Manny was telling Otis that he was the devil. Mrs. Margret appeared out of thin air and shouted that I told that drunken s.o.b. to quit saying that.
They made me take a big swig of the wine as I tried to sit down! All the while they were laughing like crazy. Was I dreaming or was I just as insane as the three of them, especially when I truly believed that my hobby for one day would come into fruition that particular strange moment in time?
Well, it didn’t take me long to know that I was just a drunk insane kid, especially when Otis told Manny that he could prove that he wasn’t no damn devil.
Mrs. Margret got up from the table to answer the phone that never rang.
Manny told Otis prove it.
I say yeah prove it because I have a gift. They looked at me as if I had too much wine to drink. Then Otis shot Manny in the head. It seems as if time stood still as he fell out of the chair.
Mrs. Margret shouted! Otis what did you do that for? Otis replied I told him he ain’t no devil.
I swear that I laid my shaky hand upon the bullet wound on Manny’s head and suddenly he came back to life, but not for long because in my minds eyes I must have been dreaming.
All I could remember after that was that the house was filled with cops and the corners’ people while they carried a dead as a door nail Manny out.
At Otis’s trial the court room was full of spectators and well-wishers.
Then precipitously Manny walked into the court room holding a bottle of that killer wine.
Everyone in the courtroom was shocked and overwhelmed as to what they were witnessing. Even Mrs. Margret fainted at the sight of Manny shouting that he was the devil and Satan was his daddy.
Otis tried to grab the bottle from the dead Manny in which wasn’t really there.
Then for some odd reason Perry Mason was telling the jury that it was me who killed Manny.
The scene changed and I awoke to find my self in a sane asylum without an unusual hobby because I couldn’t lay hands on anyone or anything to bring back to life.
I can’t say who really killed Manny, but Otis may die in prison one day.