the glove compartment because there wasnât enough room to sit between Daddy and VanMan. I didnât want to sit down there but I was glad soon enough. Daddyâs knees kept bumping me in the head when we hit a bump which was every five seconds. VanMan didnât have paint on his van or door handles inside but he had a CD. He played Gregorian chants like we heard at school in music class. Daddy asked him to drive slower and VanMan said heâd try but he was having a religious ecstacy. VanMan would speed up whenever he went through the lights. Every time we turned we could hear more stuff break.
VanMan was braindead Anne and I wonder now if he was on drugs. I think he was. It got really awful then. We drove across the park and went north on Broadway andthen we stopped and VanMan jumped out. I knew we werenât at the apartment yet and so I looked to see where we were. We were only at 92nd Street. VanMan was going through some trash on the sidewalk getting a chair loose. Daddy yelled out the window what are you doing? Van-Man said oh hey I can resell this great chair itâs aces. Daddy said Iâm paying you by the hour come back and get it on your own time. âDaddy let him get the stupid chair heâs crazyâ I said but Daddy didnât listen. I knew he should have.
Everybody on the street was looking and laughing at us. VanMan finally got back in the van. Anne, when someone is insane crazy we say heâs pissed for blood and thatâs what he was. When he took off he turned up the volume on the CD as loud as it would go and then he started speeding. He was running the red lights. Daddy said slow down my daughterâs in here but VanMan didnât care. He kept going faster and faster it felt like. I sat up and looked over the dash once and saw we were heading right toward a bus. Daddy pushed me down. We didnât hit the bus. I kept thinking the police would arrest us but they didnât.
We got all the way to the new apartment before VanMan stopped. Mama and Boob were already there standing outside. VanMan jumped out before Daddy did and ran to the back of the van. I got out and ran back after Daddy. VanMan had a big crowbar that he kept hitting the side of his van with. He told Daddy to pay him the rest of the money before heâd let us get our stuff. When Mama and Boob came over VanMan swung his crowbar like he was going to hit them but he didnât. A lot of people stood around watching but nobody said or did anything. Daddy gave VanMan money and then VanMan unlocked the van. He threw everything in the street as fast as he could not even looking to see where he was throwing it. Some of the boxes hit other peopleâs cars and theyâd come over but VanMan would jump out and start waving the crowbar again and theyâd back off. One guy was so mad though hepushed Daddy against the side of the van and called him a fucking asshole. I thought he was going to hit Daddy but then he walked off and got in his car and pulled out. He ran over a lamp of ours when he did and smashed it and then drove off. We tried to keep piling the stuff VanMan threw out of the van together but the boxes kept breaking open and everything was spilling out. Then VanMan finished throwing everything out and he got back in and he drove off. I guess he went back to get that chair on 92nd Street, he must have wanted it bad. Some of the people watching started helping us once they saw VanMan wasnât going to bash them. Some Hispanic ladies and two older black men carried boxes over from where he pitched them. Younger girls that looked like my age watched me and Boob like they were sizing us but they didnât do or say anything. Eventually we got everything sort of together. Mama and Boob stayed with our stuff while me and Daddy carried it into the lobby. Finally we got the elevator loaded and we rode up to the new apartment.
Daddy called another guy named Man With Van to rent another van but
VanMan was braindead Anne and I wonder now if he was on drugs. I think he was. It got really awful then. We drove across the park and went north on Broadway andthen we stopped and VanMan jumped out. I knew we werenât at the apartment yet and so I looked to see where we were. We were only at 92nd Street. VanMan was going through some trash on the sidewalk getting a chair loose. Daddy yelled out the window what are you doing? Van-Man said oh hey I can resell this great chair itâs aces. Daddy said Iâm paying you by the hour come back and get it on your own time. âDaddy let him get the stupid chair heâs crazyâ I said but Daddy didnât listen. I knew he should have.
Everybody on the street was looking and laughing at us. VanMan finally got back in the van. Anne, when someone is insane crazy we say heâs pissed for blood and thatâs what he was. When he took off he turned up the volume on the CD as loud as it would go and then he started speeding. He was running the red lights. Daddy said slow down my daughterâs in here but VanMan didnât care. He kept going faster and faster it felt like. I sat up and looked over the dash once and saw we were heading right toward a bus. Daddy pushed me down. We didnât hit the bus. I kept thinking the police would arrest us but they didnât.
We got all the way to the new apartment before VanMan stopped. Mama and Boob were already there standing outside. VanMan jumped out before Daddy did and ran to the back of the van. I got out and ran back after Daddy. VanMan had a big crowbar that he kept hitting the side of his van with. He told Daddy to pay him the rest of the money before heâd let us get our stuff. When Mama and Boob came over VanMan swung his crowbar like he was going to hit them but he didnât. A lot of people stood around watching but nobody said or did anything. Daddy gave VanMan money and then VanMan unlocked the van. He threw everything in the street as fast as he could not even looking to see where he was throwing it. Some of the boxes hit other peopleâs cars and theyâd come over but VanMan would jump out and start waving the crowbar again and theyâd back off. One guy was so mad though hepushed Daddy against the side of the van and called him a fucking asshole. I thought he was going to hit Daddy but then he walked off and got in his car and pulled out. He ran over a lamp of ours when he did and smashed it and then drove off. We tried to keep piling the stuff VanMan threw out of the van together but the boxes kept breaking open and everything was spilling out. Then VanMan finished throwing everything out and he got back in and he drove off. I guess he went back to get that chair on 92nd Street, he must have wanted it bad. Some of the people watching started helping us once they saw VanMan wasnât going to bash them. Some Hispanic ladies and two older black men carried boxes over from where he pitched them. Younger girls that looked like my age watched me and Boob like they were sizing us but they didnât do or say anything. Eventually we got everything sort of together. Mama and Boob stayed with our stuff while me and Daddy carried it into the lobby. Finally we got the elevator loaded and we rode up to the new apartment.
Daddy called another guy named Man With Van to rent another van but
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