Charlie never stopped growing. He was a man in his early 40’s. He worked as a chef at a local, but highly esteemed, Italian restaurant. When I was 19 I got a job there as a waitress. I remember vividly our first meeting, us crashing into each other as he was flying out of the kitchen-and I flying in. My tray fell with a loud clatter.
“I’m sorry, cupcake,” he mumbled but kept walking. I didn’t mind. He was incredibly tall, so tall I had to look up a bit to see his face. And, even then, I could hardly make eye contact. So I did not try.
“Did you know he’s gotten taller since he started working here?” A co-worker whispered to me one evening. It was a cold winter night, and bustling with business. Her and I sat and ate on break. She had electric blonde hair. “Really?” I asked, not at all skeptical. She nodded. “I don’t know what it is, but I swear every week he’s a little bit taller.”
And so I watched him closely. As weeks and months wend by, it was like watching grass grow. You could watch it for hours on end and see no difference, but come back a few days later, and suddenly it was taller. It wasn’t by much, but I knew in my heart that he was getting taller. Had he been born a very small child, and has only grown a very tiny amount every few days for 40 years? Or did he start growing one day, and never stopped?
