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.I was fourteen and watched TV and played video games a lot.What else had I missed while lost in the fog of sitcoms and fantasy adventures?I bet Mexicans never would have had a private funeral.Too bad Jamie wasn’t Mexican.“I see graves all the time now,” Gracie told me.She lay flat on her back, head on her pillow, and stared at the ceiling.“They’re everywhere,” Gracie said.“Ever since—”She stopped and sighed, as if it was some huge confession she’d just told me.I worried that she might expect something in return, a confession of my own.I murmured a little noise I hoped sounded supportive.“They’re everywhere,” she repeated.“The town cemetery, the Wilkinson family plot, that old place out by the ravine, where Fuck-You Francis is supposed to be buried.And now the railroad tracks.I mean, where does it end?”I said, “Beds are like graves, too,” and she turned to me with this puzzled look.“No,” I said, “really.” And I told her about the time when my grandmother came to live with us, after my grandfather’s death.And how, one morning my mother sent me into her room to wake her for breakfast—I remember, because I smelled bacon frying when I woke up—and so I went into my grandma’s room and told her to wake up.She didn’t, so I repeated myself.But she still didn’t wake up.Finally I shook her shoulders, and her head lolled on her neck.I grabbed one of her hands, and it was cold to the touch.“Oh,” said Gracie.“I see what you mean.” She stared at me hard, her eyes glistening.Gracie rolled on top of me, pinning her knees on both sides of my hips.Her hair fell around my face, and the room grew dimmer as her hair brushed over my eyes, shutting out the light.She kissed me on my lips, and she kissed me on my neck.She started rocking against my penis, so I rocked back.The coils in her bed creaked.“You’re so cold, Adam,” Gracie whispered, over and over.“You’re so cold, you’re so cold.” She smelled like clay and dust.As she rocked on me, she looked up at the ceiling and bared the hollow of her throat.After a while, she let out several little gasps, then collapsed on my chest.I kept rubbing against her, but stopped when I realized she wasn’t going to get back into it.Gracie slid off me.She knelt in front of her window, looking out at something.“Are you angry?” I asked.“No, Adam.I’m not angry.Why would I be angry?”“Just asking,” I said.“What are you doing now?” I said.“He’s down there again,” she whispered.I heard the tears in her voice already and went to her.I didn’t look out the window.I wrapped my arms around her, my hands meeting under her breasts, and hugged her.I didn’t look out the window.“Why won’t he go away?” she said.“I found him, yeah.So fucking what.He doesn’t need to fucking follow me around forever.”“Tell him to leave,” I told her.She didn’t respond.“Tell him you don’t want to see him anymore,” I told her.She moved my hands off her and turned her face to mine.She leaned in and kissed me, her tongue searching out mine.When she pulled back, she said, “I can’t.I hate him, but I love him, too.He seems to, I don’t know, understand me, maybe.We’re on the same wavelength, you know? As much as he annoys me, I love him.He should have been loved, you know.He never got that.Not how everyone deserves.”“Just give him up,” I said.Gracie wrinkled her nose.She stood and paced to her doorway, opened it, said, “I think you should go now.My parents will be home soon.”I craned my neck to glance out the window, but her voice cracked like a whip.“Leave, Adam.”I shrugged into my coat and elbowed past her.“You don’t deserve him,” I said on my way out.I walked home through wind, and soon rain started up.It landed on my face cold and trickled down my cheeks into my collar.Jamie hadn’t been outside when I left Gracie’s house, and I began to suspect she’d been making him up, like the rest of them, to make me jealous.Bitch, I thought.I thought she was different.At home I walked in through the kitchen, and my mother was waiting by the doorway.She said, “Where have you been? Two nights in a row.You’re acting all secretive.Where have you been, Adam?”Lucy sat at the dinner table, smoking a cigarette.When I looked at her, she looked away.Smoke curled up into the lamp above her.“What is this?” I said.“An inquisition?”“We’re just worried, is all,” said my mother.“Don’t worry.”“I can’t help it.”“Your mother loves you very much,” said Lucy.“Stay out of this, paralyzer.”Both of them gasped.“Adam!” My mother sounded shocked.“That’s not nice.You know Lucy didn’t mean that to happen.Apologize right now.”I mumbled an apology.My mother started wheeling around the kitchen.She reached up to cupboards and pulled out cans of tomatoes and kidney beans.She opened the freezer and pulled out ground beef.“Chili,” she said, just that.“It’s chilly outside, so you need some warm chili for your stomach.Chili will warm you up.” She sounded like a commercial.Then she started in again.“My miracle child,” she said, pretending to talk to herself.“My baby boy, my gift.Did you know, Lucy, that Adam was born premature, with underdeveloped lungs and a murmur in his heart?”“No, dear,” said Lucy.“How terrible!”“He was a fighter, though,” said my mother.“He always fought.He wanted to live so much.Oh, Adam,” she said.“Why don’t you tell me where you’ve been? Your running coach said you’ve been missing practice a lot.”“I haven’t been anywhere,” I said.“Give it a rest.”“It’s everything happening at once, isn’t it?” Lucy asked.“Poor kid.You should send him to see Dr.Phelps, Linda.Stuff like what happened to the Marks boy is hard on kids.”“That’s an idea,” said my mother.“Would you stop talking about me in front of me?” I said.“God, you two are ridiculous.You don’t have a God-damned clue about anything.”My father came into the kitchen and said, “What’s all the racket?”I said, “Why don’t you just go kill someone!” and ran outside again [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.I was fourteen and watched TV and played video games a lot.What else had I missed while lost in the fog of sitcoms and fantasy adventures?I bet Mexicans never would have had a private funeral.Too bad Jamie wasn’t Mexican.“I see graves all the time now,” Gracie told me.She lay flat on her back, head on her pillow, and stared at the ceiling.“They’re everywhere,” Gracie said.“Ever since—”She stopped and sighed, as if it was some huge confession she’d just told me.I worried that she might expect something in return, a confession of my own.I murmured a little noise I hoped sounded supportive.“They’re everywhere,” she repeated.“The town cemetery, the Wilkinson family plot, that old place out by the ravine, where Fuck-You Francis is supposed to be buried.And now the railroad tracks.I mean, where does it end?”I said, “Beds are like graves, too,” and she turned to me with this puzzled look.“No,” I said, “really.” And I told her about the time when my grandmother came to live with us, after my grandfather’s death.And how, one morning my mother sent me into her room to wake her for breakfast—I remember, because I smelled bacon frying when I woke up—and so I went into my grandma’s room and told her to wake up.She didn’t, so I repeated myself.But she still didn’t wake up.Finally I shook her shoulders, and her head lolled on her neck.I grabbed one of her hands, and it was cold to the touch.“Oh,” said Gracie.“I see what you mean.” She stared at me hard, her eyes glistening.Gracie rolled on top of me, pinning her knees on both sides of my hips.Her hair fell around my face, and the room grew dimmer as her hair brushed over my eyes, shutting out the light.She kissed me on my lips, and she kissed me on my neck.She started rocking against my penis, so I rocked back.The coils in her bed creaked.“You’re so cold, Adam,” Gracie whispered, over and over.“You’re so cold, you’re so cold.” She smelled like clay and dust.As she rocked on me, she looked up at the ceiling and bared the hollow of her throat.After a while, she let out several little gasps, then collapsed on my chest.I kept rubbing against her, but stopped when I realized she wasn’t going to get back into it.Gracie slid off me.She knelt in front of her window, looking out at something.“Are you angry?” I asked.“No, Adam.I’m not angry.Why would I be angry?”“Just asking,” I said.“What are you doing now?” I said.“He’s down there again,” she whispered.I heard the tears in her voice already and went to her.I didn’t look out the window.I wrapped my arms around her, my hands meeting under her breasts, and hugged her.I didn’t look out the window.“Why won’t he go away?” she said.“I found him, yeah.So fucking what.He doesn’t need to fucking follow me around forever.”“Tell him to leave,” I told her.She didn’t respond.“Tell him you don’t want to see him anymore,” I told her.She moved my hands off her and turned her face to mine.She leaned in and kissed me, her tongue searching out mine.When she pulled back, she said, “I can’t.I hate him, but I love him, too.He seems to, I don’t know, understand me, maybe.We’re on the same wavelength, you know? As much as he annoys me, I love him.He should have been loved, you know.He never got that.Not how everyone deserves.”“Just give him up,” I said.Gracie wrinkled her nose.She stood and paced to her doorway, opened it, said, “I think you should go now.My parents will be home soon.”I craned my neck to glance out the window, but her voice cracked like a whip.“Leave, Adam.”I shrugged into my coat and elbowed past her.“You don’t deserve him,” I said on my way out.I walked home through wind, and soon rain started up.It landed on my face cold and trickled down my cheeks into my collar.Jamie hadn’t been outside when I left Gracie’s house, and I began to suspect she’d been making him up, like the rest of them, to make me jealous.Bitch, I thought.I thought she was different.At home I walked in through the kitchen, and my mother was waiting by the doorway.She said, “Where have you been? Two nights in a row.You’re acting all secretive.Where have you been, Adam?”Lucy sat at the dinner table, smoking a cigarette.When I looked at her, she looked away.Smoke curled up into the lamp above her.“What is this?” I said.“An inquisition?”“We’re just worried, is all,” said my mother.“Don’t worry.”“I can’t help it.”“Your mother loves you very much,” said Lucy.“Stay out of this, paralyzer.”Both of them gasped.“Adam!” My mother sounded shocked.“That’s not nice.You know Lucy didn’t mean that to happen.Apologize right now.”I mumbled an apology.My mother started wheeling around the kitchen.She reached up to cupboards and pulled out cans of tomatoes and kidney beans.She opened the freezer and pulled out ground beef.“Chili,” she said, just that.“It’s chilly outside, so you need some warm chili for your stomach.Chili will warm you up.” She sounded like a commercial.Then she started in again.“My miracle child,” she said, pretending to talk to herself.“My baby boy, my gift.Did you know, Lucy, that Adam was born premature, with underdeveloped lungs and a murmur in his heart?”“No, dear,” said Lucy.“How terrible!”“He was a fighter, though,” said my mother.“He always fought.He wanted to live so much.Oh, Adam,” she said.“Why don’t you tell me where you’ve been? Your running coach said you’ve been missing practice a lot.”“I haven’t been anywhere,” I said.“Give it a rest.”“It’s everything happening at once, isn’t it?” Lucy asked.“Poor kid.You should send him to see Dr.Phelps, Linda.Stuff like what happened to the Marks boy is hard on kids.”“That’s an idea,” said my mother.“Would you stop talking about me in front of me?” I said.“God, you two are ridiculous.You don’t have a God-damned clue about anything.”My father came into the kitchen and said, “What’s all the racket?”I said, “Why don’t you just go kill someone!” and ran outside again [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]