Grand & Humble Read Online Free PDF

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    “Another nightmare, huh?” his dad said.
    Manny nodded, searching for a clean plate.
    “And to think you could be dreaming about sex like most teenage boys.”
    “Dad,” Manny said. “Do you mind?”
    “What? You don’t wanna talk about sex with your dad? Why in the world not?”
    “Dad!” But Manny couldn’t keep from smiling. The truth was, his dad was the opposite of nightmarish. He was best described as boyish—clean-shaven and bouncy, often impetuous, more like an older brother than a dad. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t also be strict, like the time he wouldn’t let Manny and Elsa go to that Xena: Warrior Princess convention in Pasadena, California. But at least he always let Manny make his case. Manny’s dad was pretty much the perfect authority figure—someone who had actually earned, and deserved , respect.
    “I had a dream too,” his dad was saying. “I was the Head Munchkin, and I had to deny membership in the Lollipop Guild to the Keebler Elves.”
    Okay, so maybe the Munchkin dream didn’t make Manny’s dad sound like some awesome authority figure. But the fact that he was willing to say things like that was exactly what made Manny’s dad so great. He also loved to cook, kept houseplants, even hugged his son. Manny had always wondered what it meant that he had such an emotionally accessible dad; was that what had made him one of the arty-fruity types at school? He also wondered how his dad had endedup such a nontraditional guy. Was it because he’d had to be both father and mother to Manny? Manny’s mom had died when Manny was two months old. Skin cancer, his dad had said once. It was one of the things Manny and his dad didn’t talk about—one of the very few things.
    “So,” his dad said, suddenly all ears. “Tell me about your dream.”
    Manny glanced at the clock on the stove. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to work?”
    His dad sipped his tea. “I can be a little late. Come on. Talk .”
    Manny dished up two fried eggs from the pan on the stove. “I got creamed by a tidal wave.”
    “I think I’m detecting a pattern. What was it last night? A herd of elephants? And before that, it was a locomotive. Didn’t you actually get hit by a falling safe once? Or maybe it was an anvil.”
    “There was one thing different,” Manny said.
    “Really? Do tell.”
    “You were in it.”
    “Me? What’d I do?”
    Manny considered lying, but he didn’t seem to be able to do that to his dad. “Well, it’s not real flattering.”
    “For you or for me?”
    “Never mind.”
    “Me, huh? Hmmmm. Well, what’d I do?”
    Manny took a seat at the table across from him. “You laughed at me.”
    Manny’s dad just listened.
    So Manny told him the dream—the well-dressed couple hurrying away; the plate of broken eyeglasses; the way his dad, dressed as a lifeguard, had laughed when the wave was crashing down on top of them. Maybe his dad could tell him what all this meant; he had a pretty good instinct about these things.
    “So?” Manny said when he was done. “What do you think?”
    His dad didn’t answer right away. He was staring out the window. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. He wasn’t even drinking his tea. Manny couldn’t help but be reminded of the part of the nightmare when his dad had stopped and stared blankly out at the approaching tidal wave. At first he thought his dad was now trying to be funny—except then Manny remembered that he hadn’t told his dad that part of the dream.
    “Dad?”
    Suddenly his dad stood up from the table. “Oh, God, I just remembered! I gotta drop off some dry cleaning.” Was it Manny’s imagination, or was hisdad flustered? But he didn’t get flustered —not by beautiful women, not by patronizing car mechanics, not by anything.
    “Dad?” Manny said. “Are you okay? I didn’t offend you or anything, did I?”
    “Huh? You mean about the dream? Please.”
    “But—”
    “Manny, I really gotta go. ’Bye!”
    And