by Charles Bock
Eventually the face of Newell's cellular phone would be discovered in a scrap yard just outside Sedona, lying inside the trashed and stripped husk of that ice cream truck. In the time it took Kenny to get out of the car and run around the front of the Reliant, night was engulfing the boy. The sounds of Newell running through some sort of brush were still near enough, there remained a chance at catching him.
Parental neglect. Sexual abuse. Teenage girls sold from Asian farming villages. The girl with the shaved head was trying to rise from her rock, her head turning in the direction Newell had run; Kenny was close enough to see that her clothes were covered in crud. Her legs seemed to buckle, and though she did not fall, it was obvious to him that she also needed help.
And this is where it all unraveled, with Kenny on the edge of the desert, the girl with the shaved head struggling to stand, and the slight sounds of the fleeing boy growing more distant, giving way to an all but deafening gloom. The junky old car idled by the side of the road, purring and coughing up phlegm. Secular fundamentalists. Religious consumers. Commercial-free satellite radio. Noninvasive dental surgeries. The world was a pair of successfully removed breast implants and an ambitious former stripper working to rebuild her life alone. The world was an overweight artist swearing off sugar. A mother forced to deal with her grief, fighting to get beyond her anger, still waiting for the phone to ring, the door to swing open. A father exhausted by the wreckage of his marriage. The world was wandering and dirty and lost; a boy discovering a ripped concert T-shirt and, although he could not make out the name of the band, slipping the warm fabric over his head.
Each and every one of us moves toward fates we cannot possibly know. Each of us struggles against the pain of the world, even as we are doomed to join it. And for a moment Kenny wavered in his struggle. Slowing, twisting in place, he threw his hands up into the air. To no one in particular, he let out the choked, half-whispered plea that would remain at the forefront of his thoughts for years: “What am I supposed to do?” he asked. “Just what am I supposed to do now?”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This novel took a long time to write, and there's no way I could have completed it without a lot of support. From the bottom of my heart, thanks and praise to:
Buckethead. Norma Bock. Gene Santoro. Gary Libman. Slim Smith. William Kittredge. Alden Jones. Jaime Clarke. Peter Hausler. Tara Ison. Gary Giddins. Anthony Bock. Yale Bock. Slash. W. Axl Rose. John Wei-gund, for graciously offering me the use of his cabin for a month. William and Allison Woolston for two of the greatest summers known to man, and the most perfect place to get married that a person could ask for. Pumpkin and Hippolyte. T. J. Kenneally. Carmen Monteblanca, for shooting me full of all those drugs. Michael Neill, for the sarcasm and the cynicism and so much more. Anna Schuleit. Sue Barker. Messy Stench drew the awesomest flyer in the history of papyrus (her website, craptabulous.com, rules, go visit it).
Certain people in the world of adult entertainment were kind enough to take me into their clubs and onto their sets. You know who you are: a heartfelt thanks for letting me into your lives. Loving thanks to all the street kids I talked to, and all the ones that I didn't get a chance to talk to, and all the ones who haven't yet run: may there be nothing but peace in your futures.
The Vermont Studio Center and the UCross Foundation both were kind enough to provide me with fellowships and hospitality. The Corporation of Yaddo has been unfailingly generous to me, especially when there was no discernible reason to be. Amber Qureshi is a stone-cold joy. Marc Sapir and Isidro Blasco are wonderful, each of them, and yet for some reason I have listed them together. I need to thank everyone at the Bennington Writing Seminars for never quite running me out of town, in particular Priscilla Hodgkins, Sven Birkerts, and Askold Melnyczuk. Susan Choi is selfless and brilliant and basically awesome. Rick Moody is one of the best, most generous writers alive. To Mohammed Naseehu Ali, I make a personal promise, one day I will dance and sing for your birthday and you can insult me. Ryan Walsh, simply one of my favorite people on earth, rock on motherfucker. Mike Wise has been there for me in truly tough times, whether it was to listen to my newest and latest crazy scheme, throw me needed jobs, or just take me to lunch; I am so fortunate to have him in my life. Alison Smith is my personal corn muffin and I love her no end.
Everyone at Random House has been amazing, and I am so grateful that they have believed in my novel ( gracias, my ruthless corporate over-lords). In particular, the support of Gina Centrello has been priceless; my thanks to her are without end. Dana Blanchette worked very hard to make every page of this book a piece of art. Lynn Buckley is the genius who designed that once-in-a-lifetime cover. Diana Fox is efficient and intelligent and sweet as hell. Jynne Martin: goddess, shining and true. And as for David Ebershoff, my editor, well, there's a lot of talk in publishing circles about how editors don't edit anymore. Those comments are from people who aren't fortunate enough to have you working with them. I could not have been guided through this by a surer hand. A monstrous thank-you.
Jim Rutman at Sterling Lord Literistic: a flat-out mensch. His patience, thoroughness, commitment, brains, and complete and utter decency mark him as singular.
Mary Beth Hughes not only changed my life, but taught me how grace moves through the world.
The Great One.
Wyatt Mason possesses the finest mind I've ever known; moreover, he is the best friend I've ever had.
Crystal Bock, my sister, has been my partner in crime for as long as I can remember. She knows all the places in this novel, and many more than that.
Of course my wife, Diana Colbert, is the greatest fucking thing that ever happened to me. You make my life a joy.
Finally, my parents, Caryl and Howard Bock. For your unfathomable sacrifices, your never-ending love.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHARLES BOCK was born in Las Vegas, Nevada. He has an MFA from Bennington College and has received fellowships from Yaddo, UCross, and the Vermont Studio Center. He lives in New York City. Visit his website at www.beautifulchildren.net.
RESOURCES
If you are out on the streets, or a parent of a missing teen, here are a few places to get help:
National Runaway Switchboard
http://www.1800runaway.org
Toll free: 1-800-runaway
(1-800-786-2929)
3080 N. Lincoln Ave.
Chicago, IL 60657
Phone: 1-773-880-9860
Fax: 1-773-929-5150
Nevada Partnership for Homeless Youth
http://www.nevadahomelessyouth.org
Toll free: 1-866-U-ARE-SAFE (1-866-827-3723)
P.O. Box 20135
Las Vegas, NV 89112
Office Phone: 1-702-383-1332
Fax: 1-702-313-0216
Nevada Child Seekers
http://www.nevadachildseekers.org
2880 E. Flamingo Rd., Suite J
Las Vegas, NV 89121
Elaine Sinnock, Director of Operations
My Friend's Place
http://www.myfriendsplace.org
Membership Program
P.O. Box 3867
Hollywood, CA 90078
1-323-908-0011, ext. 110
Larkin Street Youth Services
http://www.larkinstreetyouth.org
Administrative Offices
1138 Sutter St.
San Francisco, CA 94109
Phone: 1-415-673-0911
Fax: 1-415-749-3838
[email protected]
Covenant House
http://www.covenanthouse.org
Toll free: 1-800-999-9999
In California:
[email protected]
Toll free in CA: 1-866-COV-DOVE
(1-866-268-3683)
In Hollywood:
1325 N. Western Ave.
Hollywood, CA 90027
In the Bay Area:
2781 Telegraph Ave.
Oakland, CA 94612
In New York City:
[email protected]
460 West 41 St.
New York, NY 10036
1-212-613-0300
Also, should you happen to be driving in Las Vegas, when you need to fuel up or get a soda, may I suggest Terrible Herbst. They are a partner with the Nevada Partnership for Homeless Youth, and their stores and gas stations even serve as places where runaways can go for shelter and get a bite.
In addition, please know that I am not affiliated with any of the organizations on this list, and did not write my novel while in contact with these organizations. By no means is this list complete—it includes select national orgs, as well as groups in Nevada, California, and New York City. By all accounts, these groups do great work. However, if you or your teen is in trouble, there are excellent local recourses all over this nation. Please find them. And if you want your organization to be part of this list, contact my website (www.beautifulchildren.net). We'll confirm your info and include it in a subsequent edition of the novel. Good luck to all.
CB
Beautiful Children is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters, with the exception of some well-known historical and public figures, are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical or public figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2008 by Charles Bock
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Random House,
an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group,
a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
RANDOM HOUSE and colophon are registered
trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Grateful acknowledgment is made to Linda Music for permission to reprint a lyric excerpt from “Free Money,” written by Patti Smith and Lenny Kaye, copyright © 1975 by Linda Music (ASCAP). Used by permission. All rights reserved.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Bock, Charles.
Beautiful children: a novel / Charles Bock.
p. cm.
eISBN: 978-1-58836-683-2
1. Boys—Fiction. 2. Missing children—Fiction.
3. Deserts—Fiction. 4. Las Vegas (Nev.)—Fiction.
5. Psychological fiction. I. Title.
PS3602.O3255B43 2008
813'.6—dc22 2007004166
www.atrandom.com
v2.0