Crazy (2 page)

LAUGH TRACK
:
Ha. Ha.

Mrs. Silky is short and plump but with tiny bird bones, so her wrists and ankles look too skinny for her body, and she has lots of loose cheek skin, so when she talks, all that skin wobbles. Her head kind of shakes, too. Maybe she has the beginnings of Parkinson's disease.

I watch her cheeks wobble, and I nod in response because, with my tongue still pressed to the roof of my mouth, I can't talk.

Mrs. Silky continues. "I know you understand what I'm saying. I'm beginning to think this is just sheer belligerence. I don't know what's gotten into you."

She looks at me. She seems plenty angry. Her cheeks and head are really shaking; her eyes look hard. I think she wants me to explain what's gotten into me, but I don't know, so I just stand with my arms straight down, crossed in front of me like a shield, hands in fists, head bowed, and I wait for her to dismiss me.

She doesn't. LAUGH TRACK
:
Uh-oh!

"And why are you dating all your papers with the wrong dates? Other teachers are complaining, too. Mr. O'Hagan, Mrs. Eugene, all your teachers." Silky picks up my essay and shakes it at me, but I keep my head down, just seeing her out of the corner of my eye. "July fifteenth, you wrote here, and this other one"—she picks up my other essay—"you wrote October twelfth. It's January. I know you know that." Silky sets the papers down and reaches a hand out to me, almost touching my arm, and I lift my head.

"Is this about your mother? Hmm? She died last October, didn't she? You know we're all very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

LAUGH TRACK
:
Isn't that a shame.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Jason hates when people mention his mother. He doesn't like to think about her.

AUNT BEE
:
If I weren't just a figment of his imagination, I'd fix him a nice apple pie. That would help him feel better.

I ought to tell her to lay off. I hate that people are talking about me.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Go ahead, dumb-dumb. Explain about the dates while you're at it.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
Don't listen to him.

Old Silky gives me this pitying look. Her baggy eyes sag a little lower. "Life is unfair, but that doesn't give anyone a free ride. I expect excellence from you, Ja-son, as always. I don't know what you're doing writing these silly dates down but..."

CRAZY GLUE
:
Tell her! Go ahead. Just do it! Say what you're thinking, for once!

"It's—it's just that dates and times are really so arbitrary—I think."

Silky lets go of my paper and it lands on her desk. "Arbitrary? If everyone felt that way, where would we be?" Silky shakes her jowls side to side and stares up at me. I hate that I'm taller than she is. It feels wrong, somehow.

"Well, it's like—we've all supposedly agreed to start counting from the year of Jesus' birth, like the world didn't exist until then. It's just a way of counting
that we all are supposed to go along with, but I don't remember getting a vote. I mean, I don't agree."

CRAZY GLUE
:
That's telling her.

AUNT BEE
:
Be careful, Jason. I don't have a good feeling about this.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Go on. Tell her what you're thinking. You're already into it now; a little deeper won't hurt anything.

"It's just, well, no offense to Jesus, but why not use the Jewish calendar or the Greek lunar calendar? Why don't we have a vote every four years, like with the presidents, and give everybody's calendar a chance?"

Silky's got her cheeks and jowls all puffed out now, like a blowfish.

LAUGH TRACK
:
(Laughter).

She lets it blow. Her breath hits my face. It smells like mothballs. "'No offense to Jesus'? Jason Papadopoulos, I'm surprised at you! I really am."

CRAZY GLUE
:
Way to go, buddy!

"I—I—I, well, I just can't bring myself to write January. I mean, what's January? It's nothing. It means nothing. It's just a word—blah—a dumb word."

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
I hate to mention it, but maybe the present dates don't mean anything to you because your mother's no longer in them. You've been dating your papers with the date your mother came out of her coma, and the date she came home from the hospital, and the day before she went back into the hospital and died. Am I the only one who's noticed this?

LAUGH TRACK
:
No! (Laughter).

Silky shakes her wobbly head one more time. "'Nothing'? A dumb word ? Jason, I just don't know what's gotten into you."

CRAZY GLUE
:
She said that already.

I don't know what's gotten into me, either. Maybe I'm just tired of being invisible.

LAUGH TRACK
:
Uh-oh!

AUNT BEE
:
You want a friend, dear.

Old Silky clears her throat, and I bite down on my lower lip and wait for her to blast me some more, but her voice is suddenly quiet, kind of tender.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Oh puke!

"I'm just going to warn you, on tomorrow's exam I want to see you write 'Captain,' not 'Cap'n.' One 'Cap'n' and you just might flunk the test. Do you understand?"

I nod. "Yes."

"Good." She straightens her shoulders. "And I want the proper date, as well." She hesitates, and then, with her index finger on her chin she adds, "I think it might help you to see Dr. Gomez. Hmm?"

LAUGH TRACK
:
Uh-oh!

"Now, here's your pass. You'd better get on to your next class."

Dr. Gomez! The school shrink? No way, lady.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Better not write 'Cap'n' anymore.

I take the pass and leave. Behind me I hear her mutter, "No offense to Jesus, indeed."

F
OUR DAYS LATER
I've decided I'm in a Greek tragedy. My mom's dead, my dad's crazy, and now it's lunchtime and I'm on my way to Dr. Gomez's office. What could be worse?

CRAZY GLUE
:
You could be dead, for starters.

You all are like my Greek chorus. Yeah, I'm a real live, walking Greek tragedy.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
To be accurate, since you're living in America, it would be an American tragedy, and we're your American chorus.

Anyway! The point is I can't go see a shrink.

AUNT BEE
:
What are you so afraid of, dear?

I'm not afraid. Who says I'm afraid? It's just that there will be other kids there. I'm going to be wasting my whole lunch hour talking with a shrink and a bunch of psycho kids.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Better than eating alone like you usually do.

I don't need to see a shrink. Is writing "Cap'n" on my test really a reason for therapy? I don't think so. Oh, and I've got to lug this tray of hot food from the cafeteria with me because I'm on the free lunch program. I know nobody else in the group will have a tray. They'll know I'm on the program. They'll know we don't have any money. I mean look, people in the hallway are staring at me. Man, this is the pits. And we have to sit on the floor in there. That's what I heard. What are we, five years old?

CRAZY GLUE
:
You had to do it. You had to write "Cap'n" on that exam.

LAUGH TRACK
:
(Laughter).

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
Not once but three times. She took off thirty points, plus five for the answer you actually got wrong and five points off for writing the wrong date, for a final grade of sixty. You failed, my boy.

I couldn't help it. I don't know why, but I had to do it. I had to write "Cap'n."

SEXY LADY
:
It's those impulses again.

It was an easy test, too. Now I have to see a shrink because Old Silky feels I'm not coping well with Mom's death. What does she know about it? How am I supposed to cope? I'm doin' great!

SEXY LADY
:
I think people who see shrinks are hot.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Don't do it. Don't go. Ditch it. You've got too many secrets. What about your dad? Your mom always warned you not to draw attention to yourself. Now look at you—you're doing it left and right. You want everyone to find out about him? They'll haul him away and then where will you be? Homeless, that's where.

AUNT BEE
:
Oh dear, Jason, I told you to be careful.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
Are we all forgetting the letters? Jason, a young boy of fifteen, who pictures himself in some kind of Greek tragedy, can't navigate his own life to, well, save his life, and yet he's giving advice to other kids in the school newspaper.

CRAZY GLUE
:
He's a Dear Abby! How ironic is that? Man, if anybody ever finds out, they'll hang him by his nostrils.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
He'll give himself away talking to a shrink. They're very good at prying secrets out of unsuspecting young people. They're sneaky. Whatever possessed you, son?

The letters. Crap! I almost forgot about them. How was I to know that my letter to the editor would get other kids writing to me asking for advice?

SEXY LADY
:
I think letter writers are hot!

AUNT BEE
:
It was a very good letter, Jason. Let's see—how did it go?

Dear Editor
:

I just wanted to get a few things off my chest. For instance, J.C. and T.F., get a room! I mean, every day you're in front of the lockers, rolling all over them and swallowing each other's tongues. Nobody can get to his locker without having to unhitch the two of you. Give it a rest for five seconds, why don't you? Try having a conversation for once. And M.V., what are you thinking? P.R. isn't going to ever, ever, ask you out. I know this for a fact. Give up already and find somebody worthy of you. You're beautiful and talented, and you have a really pretty laugh. If P.R. can't see that, then he's a jerk. He's a jerk, anyway. Besides, look to your left in English. Somebody over there likes you, and no, it's not
me. I'm not even in your class; I just hear things. Also, a certain teacher says "well" a million times per class. If you don't know who you are, you do now. Find something else to say, or just be silent for a second and gather your thoughts. You're driving your students crazy. They can't concentrate on anything besides counting how many "well's you say. Finally, S.S., you're cool no matter what anybody thinks. Your parents are totally wrong about you; you'll make something of yourself. You just need to build up your confidence a little. I bet you'd be a good swimmer. You're built like a swimmer. You ought to try out for the swim team or get into karate if you have the money. Anyway, you're smarter than anybody gives you credit for. I know; I've been listening to you.

Okay, that's it for now.

A. Nonny Mous

CRAZY GLUE
:
I always liked that signature. Very funny. A. Nonny Mous, ha, ha!

LAUGH TRACK
:
(Laughter).

CRAZY GLUE
:
And now the kids just call you Mouse in their letters. How appropriate is that. You
are
such a total mouse!

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
Not anymore, he isn't. This mouse is starting to have an edge.

AUNT BEE
:
You're the mouse that roared. Isn't there a book by that name?

I wish I hadn't done that. But I felt I just had to e-mail that letter to the editor before I went nuts. People are so thick sometimes. Since I'm invisible around here,
people don't even notice what they say around me. I know practically everything that goes on in this school. Anyway, I think I'm getting grouchy in my old age.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
Something's got hold of you lately. And that's what's going to get you in trouble in this group. You can't shut up anymore. Years of holding it in and now—look out, world, Jason is on the rampage.

Oh, I'll keep my mouth shut in there. Only reason I'm going to this thing is because I have to or Old Silky will get the school to call Dad. I had to fake his signature on the permission slip.

AUNT BEE
:
You write just like him. No one would ever guess.

I swear, I'm just going to sit there, and if I have to answer any questions, I'll just lie. That's all. I'll just lie through my teeth.

SEXY LADY
:
I think your teeth are hot. Very straight and white. If only you could get your father to brush his teeth and groom himself, he wouldn't look half so crazy.

CRAZY GLUE
:
You're so going to screw up. (Laughter).

LAUGH TRACK
:
(Laughter).

Okay, I'm here. Everybody be quiet.

CRAZY GLUE
:
(Whispers) Enter the goob, wearing jeans that are way too short, a dark plaid shirt taken from his father's drawer, holes in his dingy white socks, and for that extra goob effect, his dad's old leather boat shoes—a perfect fit on the feet of his growing, and growing, son. How's the weather up there, goob?

LAUGH TRACK
:
(Laughter).

SEXY LADY
:
I think tall men are hot.

AUNT BEE
:
Leave the boy be, now. Can't you see he's nervous enough? I just wish you had some better food. I think it's malnourishment making you so cranky.

Come on, everybody—be quiet. If I blow this, I'm out on the streets and my dad gets locked up in a loony bin. I've got to focus.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Focus, everybody. Let's focus!

LAUGH TRACK
:
Uh-oh. (Nervous laughter).

I
STEP INSIDE
Dr. Gomez's office and I'm hit by bright colors everywhere: reds, greens, yellows, oranges, a kaleidoscope of colors. The place is a mess. The desk is covered with papers and books and little gadgets, painted rocks with words on them like peace, and love, blah blah blah, and there's this one wall with a painting of birds and trees and mountains and sunshine, and painted in black is the line, "Somewhere over the Rainbow." The mural is by a girl in my class, Shelby Majors.