There was once a man who had no friends. He lived alone and only ate yellow food. When he had to leave his home he would wear blue pajamas and brown slippers. When it was cool he wore a brown corduroy jacket and an old brown cap. He would ride his bike to town. He rode and old time bike with a big wire basket in front.
He would go to the market and buy the same stuff every week. He would buy bananas, saffron rice, yellow squash, lemons, yellow peppers, yellow cake mix, lemon frosting and Perdue chicken. The cashier would address him as Mr. Brown, not sure why because his name was Mickey McHale. After leaving the store he would put the groceries in the basket on his bike and ride to a nearby park. He would sit there and eat a banana. He would take a radio out of his pocket and listen to the news. After he was done he would ride home.
No one ever heard him speak. They assumed he was a death mute. No one one ever noticed that he only bought yellow food. Richard, the cashier, noticed but never asked why. After putting away his grocery Mickey would pull a record out of his collection. After opening the dust cover to the record player, he would place the record on the turntable. He would then pull out a record dust cleaner and as the record spun he would run it over the grooves, like a chalkboard eraser. He would then let the needle hit the vinyl. No matter how well he cleaned it, you could still hear the pops and static of a good old record. Suddenly the room fills with the tender piano sounds of Nocturne Op. 9, No 2. As the song plays, Mickey holds an imaginary baton while conducting "the pops" All this exertion leads him to his old leather easy chair. He doses off as the needle reaches the end of the record to the repetitive static loop.
He awakens from his afternoon nap to a door knock and the muffled sounds of a small child. "Mr. McHale!!" He looks through the front window and see a tiny girl with pig tales, a flowered dress, holding a book. Mickey smiles. "Bernadette" he exclaims as he opens the door. "Hi Mr. Mchale" she responds, as she makes her way in. He heads to the record player and notices the empty sleeve beside it. "Chopin, my favorite" She lifts the arm and starts the records again. As the song begins she begins to waltz while holding the ends of her dress. Mickey giggles. She opens the curtains and lets the sun shine in. By the end of the song Bernadette cuts it off and sits on the end on the coffee table at attention. Mickey reaches in his shirt pocket for his glasses. They have small thick lenses and hang almost off his nose. He opens the book Bernadette walked in with and clears his throat.
"The Wizard of Oz by Frank Baum" Mickey begins. He begins speaking steady and calm. As the story continued on, Mickey's tone deepened to convey suspense. His story telling style intrigued her and came complete with a witch cackle and lollipop kid voices. Bernadette sat there in awe with eyes wide open and a slight grin. He read a chapter every night of the week. After the story she would eat rice and chicken and fall asleep across the easy chair. Mickey would drape and old knitted throw over her to keep warm. Mickey would sit at the kitchen table reading his newspaper. He would then look as his clock at about quarter to 10. He'd slip his slippers back on and put is cap on. Like clock work he would cut the porch light on just as Mary, Bernadette's mom would come walking down the block after getting off the bus. He would open the door before she could knock. She held the door while he scoped Bernadette up in his arms and carried her next door to her house.
This was the daily routine for old Mickey. He looked after Bernadette for many years. As she got older, the books grew with her. They eventually listened to all of Mickey's records. When she was about 12 she did her normal routine. She got home from school, changed, had a snack and grabbed her current read. She walked out of her front door, making sure it was locked. Run up Mickeys walk and climb his stoop. "Mickey!!" she would yell as she knocked. She waited and got no response. She continued to knock and yell harder. After about 4 tries she started to get scared. She tired to look through the window. She could see him in his chair fast asleep. She knew were he kept a spare key, so she made her way in. She waited for him to wake up. She even played what was on the record player. After a while she walked over to him and nudged him. She expected him to wake up. He wasn't even snoring. She nudged him hard and his head dropped back. That's when she realize he wasn't breathing. With her mother being a nurse she knew to call an ambulance.
When Mary arrived that night. She finds Bernadette sitting on the stoop with her head in her hands and eyes blood shot from crying all night. She was wearing Mickeys brown cap and had his throw draped over her shoulders. "He's gone!!" She exclaimed to Mary. They held each other and cried. They locked up and went home. She is haunted by Nocturne Op, No. 2. She can see him peeling a banana and riding his bike. On a rainy Monday morning, Mary, Bernadette, and a priest from the neighborhood buried Mickey. Mickey had no friends but his family was there when they needed him most. Mary bought his house from the bank, and when Bernadette turned 18 she moved in. Every time she played his old records you could see her through the front window waltzing while holding the imaginary ends of her dress and could almost hear Mickey's giggles.
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