“Mr. Putnam, they’ve brought me in from District to deliver some news,” Mrs. Bergeson says now. “I’m afraid it’s not good news.”
There’s a poster on the wall above Mrs. Bergeson’s head that shows happy children, sunshine, green grass. There’s a whiteboard covered in simple arithmetic. There’s a bank of computers on screen saver, bubbles and waves and cosmic zoom.
“Won’t you have a seat?” the principal says. She and the counselor still look concerned. George pulls up a chair and sort of squats above it, keeping most of his weight on the balls of his feet.
“This is all part of a process,” Mrs. Bergeson says, putting her hands in front of her and flat on the desk in what looks to George like some sort of soothing motion she was taught in a conflict-avoidance seminar. At interviews, unless someone puts something in your hands, you’re supposed to keep your hands in a relaxed position in your lap. Do not put your hands on the table. “We’ve been in a process with Archie, right, Ms. Kuchar?” she says to the principal.
“We have implemented a process, as you know, Mr. Putnam,” the principal says. “We’re just running up against the limits of that process, I’m afraid.”
“Well, of this particular part of this process,” Mrs. Bergeson says. She smiles in what seems to be a mechanical way. “And so now we need to start a new process. This is the part that’s not great news, but if we think of it as a process, the beginning of a process, a series of steps, we can begin to get Archie to where we all need and want him to be.”
This is when Mrs. Bergeson opens the file she’s been holding, which documents Archie’s inappropriate behavior during his three-and-a-half years in the school system. This is where she talks about how Archie has become an untenably disruptive influence in the classroom and how he prohibits other students from learning to the best of their abilities.
This is when she talks about how Archie has failed to respond to their interventions, and how George and Miranda’s refusal to seek out appropriate medical alternatives and to ensure that Archie does not continue to disrupt his classroom has left the district with no choice.
This is when Mrs. Bergeson explains the new process, which essentially is that, starting with school on Monday, Archie will be removed from Barstow School and readmitted to Edgecliff, a division of the St. Louis County Special School District.
Edgecliff sits on Incline Road, right next to Edgemont, which is also run by the Special School District, in conjunction with the St. Louis County Division of Juvenile Justice. There’s barbed wire around both schools.
This is where she talks about how Edgecliff and the Special School District have access to services Archie may not be getting at his regular school or at home. She talks about a complete battery of psychological examinations, physical examinations, psychiatric profiles, of tests, of access to doctors, of the really exciting potential of new medications. Archie will not be left behind, she says, and if things change down the line, Archie will be welcome to return to his regular school. I’m sure you have questions.
How much longer can this go on? What does it mean when a mortgage is “underwater”? How long can I receive unemployment benefits? What is a payday loan? What is foreclosure? Can you be turned down for a job because of your credit? Who can declare bankruptcy? What is the current interest rate on student loans? Can a person lose their job because of a DUI? What, then, is the American, this new man? What is a title loan? What is a credit derivative swap? What is manifest destiny? The greater part of what my neighbors call good I believe in my soul to be bad, and if I repent of anything it is very likely to be my good behavior: what demon possessed me that I behaved so well? What is a short sale? How diverse is your portfolio? How many US soldiers have been killed in Iraq and Afghanistan? What is the current unemployment rate? How can I stop my car from being repossessed? What could they see but a hideous and desolate wilderness, full of wild beasts and wild men? What could now sustain them but the spirit of God and His grace? Where does the US rank worldwide in incarceration rates? Who were the Pinkertons? What is LIBOR? What are my rights in a foreclosure? Why does the US have secret courts? What were the Alien and Sedition Acts? What was the Camp Grant Massacre? What was the Bear River Massacre? What was the Wounded Knee Massacre? What was the Trail of Tears? How shall we know when to believe, being so often deceived by the white people? How can I appeal my child’s dismissal from his school? What is robo-signing? What is Intermittent Explosive Disorder? What is a junk bond? Where’d you go to high school? Why have my unemployment benefits run out? What are my options when asked to perform a field sobriety test? What is the value of a college education? What is a stand-your-ground law? How do I apply for food stamps? Where does the US rank worldwide in fair labor practices? O, ye nominal Christians! Might not an African ask you—Learned you this from your God, who says unto you, Do unto all men as you would men should do unto you? Is it not enough that we are torn from our country and friends, to toil for your luxury and lust of gain? Must every tender feeling likewise be sacrificed to your avarice? Why does an American CEO earn 350 times the salary of the average worker? Because that’s what the market will bear? What are we going to do? If my child’s new school doesn’t notice that his classmates have locked him in a broom closet for three hours, does that constitute neglect? Does nobody know poor Rip Van Winkle? What are the effects of homelessness on children? What happens if I default on my student loans? Where does the US rank worldwide in income inequality? What is a hedge fund? Why does a Nobel Peace Prize winner have a “kill list”? What is a right-to-work state? If you haven’t heard my personal, guaranteed secret for safely and legally building your wealth while paying off your debts at pennies on the dollar, what are you waiting for? What would we really know the meaning of? Do you guess I have some intricate purpose? Where does the US rank worldwide in the cost of medical care? How many drinks would it take a 128-pound woman to reach the legal blood alcohol limit in Missouri? How do I apply for Medicaid? Can we get you set up in a payment plan today? What is Section 8 housing? What is peonage? What is HAMP? What is HARP? What is TARP? Where’d you go to high school? What is the three-fifths clause? What was the Missouri Compromise? What to the American slave is your fourth of July? What was the Dred Scott decision? Is this the little woman who made the great war? Why are we so alone? What are the housing options for people who’ve declared bankruptcy? Who were the robber barons? What is the US’s largest private employer? How many Americans are killed by terrorists each year? By guns? What is American exceptionalism? What was the Ludlow Massacre? Where does the US rank worldwide in income tax rates? What is wage garnishment? How long does COBRA last? What is General Anxiety Disorder? How can I disappear completely? What was the Gilded Age? Where does the US rank worldwide in the quality of its infrastructure? What is the current unemployment rate? Now, because this is the great inquiry of all men: what Indians have been converted? What have the English done in those parts? What was the Bisbee Deportation? What was the Columbine Massacre? What was the Columbine Mine Massacre? What is being done in our names? Are you saving enough for retirement? How many guns are there in the US? Who were Sacco and Vanzetti? How does one “walk” on an “underwater” mortgage? Do you just pack up and leave? Where do you go? Three hours, and no one noticed he was missing? What if I can’t afford a lawyer? What was the Wartime Civilian Control Agency? Why are they tear-gassing college students? When did the 2008 recession officially end? What was the cost of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan? What was the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire? What was the Red Scare? Then straight I ’gin my heart to chide, And did thy wealth on earth abide? Where’d you go to high school? What is going to happen? Where are the weapons of mass destruction? What is the suicide rate in the US armed forces? What is enhanced interrogation? Why should there not be a patient confidence in the ultimate justice of the people? Is there any better or equal hope in the world? What was the Citizens United decision? Where does the US rank worldwide in economic and social mobili
ty? How can I get help paying for my child’s medications? How many guns does the US export each year? What is mortgage securitization? Why haven’t we closed Guantánamo? Is Missouri a no-fault divorce state? How do you ask a man to be the last man to die for a mistake? Who are the 1 percent? Have you, at long last, no sense of decency, sir? What are my rights as a patient? Is your money working hard enough for you? Do suicide rates rise during a depression? Why exactly did we go to war in Iraq? How does it become a man to behave toward this American government today? What is the greatest country in the world? What is the current unemployment rate? Where does the US rank worldwide in education? What is Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder? What if I owe more in taxes than I can pay? Would you have me argue that man is entitled to liberty? How secure is your nest egg? What is the frame of government under which we live? What is Avoidant Personality Disorder? The first question I am tempted to put to the proprietor of such impropriety is, Who bolsters you? Are you one of the ninety-seven who fail? or of the three who succeed? What is the American Dream? What can you afford to pay? O! then, what will be the consequences? What will become of the poor worms that shall suffer it? Whose hands can be strong? And whose heart can endure? Don’t you have any friends or family who could help you out, just till you get over the hump? What are we going to do? What do you expect us to do? Shouldn’t somebody do something about this? Is there then no superintending power who conducts the moral operations of the world, as well as the physical? The same sublime hand which guides the planets round the sun with so much exactness, which preserves the arrangement of the whole with such exalted wisdom and paternal care, and prevents the vast system from falling into confusion; doth it abandon mankind to all the errors, the follies, and the miseries, which their most frantic rage, and their most dangerous vices and passions can produce? Can you hear me now? What are futures? Where’d you go to high school?
Once upon a time, there was a man. He lived with his wife and his son in what he’d always been told was the greatest country in the world. God-loved and manifest. A city upon a hill. Commensurate to his capacity for wonder. The last, best hope of Earth. Then when the man reached what should have been his happiest and safest and most productive years, everything went wrong.
The man lost his job and he couldn’t find another one. The wife didn’t make enough money to support the family by herself. The son needed expensive doctors. The man and his family lost their home. They were very poor now, and because they were so poor it was hard to find another place to live, and it was hard to find a place for the boy to go to school. They knew that around the country, a whole lot of people had things happening to them that were even worse. But that didn’t help. Their lives were panic. Everything was very bad.
Sometimes the man would say, “What happened?” Sometimes the wife would say, “What are we going to do?” Sometimes one or the other of them would say, “Things have to get better.” After a while, they pretty much just stared at each other across the tiny apartment they’d moved into. Until things got better, until they figured out what to do, until something happened, there wasn’t really much to say. Neither of them could remember the last time they’d really talked, held hands, touched.
Their son watched all of this, and he was a smart boy. Everyone thought he was stupid, but he wasn’t. He didn’t understand why everyone thought he was stupid, but it didn’t matter, because he knew he wasn’t. The boy watched his parents. He knew they were scared. But the boy was not scared.
The boy got Mr. Carrots when he was five and they still lived in the house. The boy liked sleeping on the couch in the new apartment. His father would sit in the chair next to the couch while the boy fell asleep. His mother hated the kitchen. “I hate this kitchen,” his mother said. There was a corner of the kitchen floor that was curled up and underneath it was dirty and gross. There was also a hole in the wall where the doorknob hit it. And he slept with Mr. Carrots on the couch.
But aside from sleeping on the couch, the boy didn’t like anything about the apartment complex. There were other kids who lived there, and they were all mean to him, and he didn’t have his own room. And his father wouldn’t ever let him go outside and play by himself, because there were bad people in the neighborhood, “and we have to live here for a little while, so we just have to be careful.” And when the boy went outside to play, the father always came along, because the father was scared. But the boy was not scared.
One day the boy’s father got a phone call. The boy was playing Mario, but it was hard to play on the new TV because the screen was smaller and Mario didn’t fit all the way. Sometimes he’d disappear completely off the edge of the screen. Sometimes the boy would move Mario over to the edge of the screen and make him disappear and come back, disappear and come back, disappear and come back, disappear and come back.
So the father said to the boy, “I have to go out. Stay inside, and do not open the door for anybody ever at all under any circumstances. Don’t be scared.” The boy was not scared. The father was walking very fast, getting his clothes on and making sure things like the coffee maker were turned off. The air started making funny noises, and the boy tried a quiet spell, but it didn’t work because his father was still there. The boy had never been left alone before, but he could fly and he could turn himself invisible and he could go through walls if his father wasn’t there, which was something else they didn’t know about him. The father took the boy to the phone and made sure the boy knew the numbers. The boy knew the numbers. He went and got Mr. Carrots and sat back down in front of the little TV. Mr. Carrots still had a bloodstain on his forehead from the time they lost the battle at the far park, but he was okay now.
Everybody thought the boy was stupid, they’d say it all the time, stupid stupid stupid. Kids said that. But he wasn’t stupid, and it hurt his feelings. His parents and his teachers from when he went to school, they said, You’ve got to pay attention, which felt a little bit like another way to say stupid. But he was paying attention. He heard everything they said. And he didn’t understand why people didn’t understand that he was just happy.
“Here’s a clock,” the boy’s father said. He was wearing his suit and sweating, and he smelled like something gross in the backyard that the boy found when they had a backyard. It was something that had died and didn’t have any skin left on it. His grandparents also had all died, and he could remember only one of them, from that time they went to the farm and he won a lot of battles there.
His father raised two fingers and said, “I’ll be back in two hours. Do you know when two hours will be?” The boy nodded. He wanted to correct the way his father said the question, because it didn’t make any sense, but his father said, “Don’t be scared,” but the boy wasn’t scared because he had a sword too, and his father said, “Don’t answer the phone, stay away from the windows, and don’t open that door. Do you understand? Just stay right here with Mr. Carrots and play Mario.” The boy nodded.
When the father locked the door, the boy went to the window. As soon as the father got in his car, a monster picked up his car and threw it all the way to where the boy couldn’t see. The boy got his sword and Mr. Carrots got his laser, and the boy said the spell to go through the door so they could rescue the apartment complex. Then they killed the monster. Then later they flew to a distant land on the other side of the world and found his father there, but his father didn’t want to come back because he had a whole new family and a job and he was scared of coming back home. “I have to stay here,” his father said. “I’m really sorry. I love you, but I won’t see you anymore.” Then Mr. Carrots said to the boy, “You have to save America! Look! It’s an emergency!”
And the boy looked back at America, and there were more monsters and vampires and space aliens, and the boy and Mr. Carrots helped the army kill the monsters that were attacking America. When all the monsters were dead, they made a movie about the boy and Mr. Carrots. Then the boy became the president. He made a law that all fathers could have jobs.
He gave a speech and told everyone to be nice to each other, and be friends, and help each other with things. And everybody did. When he knew it was safe, the boy sent a message to his father, and his father came home and got a job and lived in the old house with the boy’s mother.
And the boy was the president for ninety-two years, and the people of America lived happily ever after.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
These stories have been published, sometimes in a different form, in the following publications: “The Passage” in The Missouri Review; “Ready for Schmelling” in Phoebe; “Lubbock Is Not a Place of the Spirit” in Epoch and in The Road to Nowhere and Other New Stories from the Southwest (University of New Mexico Press, 2013); “The Thing about Norfolk” in The Normal School; “I Married an Optimist” in Low Rent; “Charlie’s Pagoda” in Roanoke Review; and “The Alternative History Club” in Black Warrior Review.
So many friends, family members, teachers, colleagues, and other writers have helped to make this book better. You know who you are, or you will know who you are next time I see you. Fair warning.
Special thanks to Daniel Slager and everyone at Milkweed Editions; to my agent, Renee Zuckerbrot and her assistant, Anne Horowitz; to Marc McKee, who they’re never gonna catch, because he’s fucking innocent; to Wayne Miller, who holds the naming rights for all my future work; and to the absolutely, positively indispensable Brian Barker.
Inappropriate Behavior: Stories Page 18