The Year of Ice: A Novel, page 22
Without looking up from her notebook, Laurie begins. “Welcome, teachers, parents, fellow students, friends, and family. I am honored to have this opportunity. We, the Northeast High School class of nineteen-seventy-eight, face a future full of challenges and opportunities. We live in a world where there are enough nuclear bombs to destroy the planet hundreds of times over.”
The people who were talking shut up. Nobody saw this coming.
“It’s going to be up to the class of ’seventy-eight to put an end to this waste of resources, resources that would be better utilized feeding the poor, finding a cure for cancer, and cleaning up the environment. It’s going to be up to us to end the arms race and to make good on the promise of détente with the Soviet Union.”
Mr. Rogers sits behind Laurie on the stage, a freaked-out look on his face.
“There are signs that a brighter tomorrow may be within our reach. We have established relations with Red China; we have pardoned the courageous men who said no to the war in Vietnam. These are just the small steps that have been taken. Bold ones will be necessary if mankind is to survive into the next century. We are the generation that must take them.”
Holy shit.
“Our generation has been accused of cynicism and of only thinking of ourselves. Perhaps that is true. But what is also true is that our generation saw our older brothers killed halfway around the world for no reason. We saw our president break the law and then lie about it to the American people. We saw the Supreme Court rule that the death penalty is not cruel or unusual punishment. The Rockefeller Commission told us that the CIA doesn’t respect the laws of the country it’s supposed to protect, and we ignore human rights atrocities because they’re being carried out by ‘governments friendly to the United States.’ And at home, we grew up seeing four college students murdered by our own soldiers at Kent State.”
It’s really quiet. Nobody’s even coughing or sneezing or anything.
“It’s up to us, the class of ’seventy-eight, to make this world a better, safer, and freer place for the generations that will follow. We can’t fight war after war until no one even remembers what we’re supposed to be fighting for. Does anyone know or care why the ancient Athenians fought and died? Thousands of years from now they’ll be asking the same question about us. That is, if we don’t blow up the planet first.
“When my parents were viciously murdered, it wasn’t just a crime. It was history repeating itself; it was some men thinking that other people’s lives were of less value than their own. This has happened since the first man and it is up to us to break the chain of violence and ignorance and hatred. We kill each other because of borders. We kill each other because of religion. We kill each other because of color. We kill each other because our ancestors killed each other. It has to end if mankind is to survive. Each of us has to make this happen, in our everyday lives. I want to break the chain. I want the killing to stop; I want to live in a world where we don’t have to be afraid of each other, where we don’t feel like we need a gun to protect ourselves. Or more locks on our doors.
“So, class of ’seventy-eight, tomorrow is calling. What kind of tomorrow it will be depends on us and the decisions we make today. It is up to us to leave our children a better world than the one our parents left us. Because if we won’t do it, who will?”
There are different kinds of quiet. Bored quiet. Embarrassed quiet. The quiet after you first smell a fart but nobody’s been accused of cutting it yet. This quiet is dead quiet. Edge of your seat dead quiet. The something’s gotta happen soon, but nobody knows what it’s gonna be quiet.
I hear somebody in the bleachers clapping. Everybody turns around, and there’s the miserable old cow, and she’s up on her feet, clapping her hands together so hard they must sting like hell. I thought she’d be pissed that she didn’t get her tribute, but as Aunt Nora says, People can still surprise you.
In like a nanosecond, the class of ’78 is up on its feet, clapping, screaming, and hollering. People throw their square hats in the air even though we were warned that anybody who did wouldn’t get a diploma.
Some people in the bleachers join us; others look like they wanna puke.
Mr. Rogers is at the microphone. “Okay, let’s settle down, everyone, that’s enough. Thank you, Laurie, for your thought-provoking comments. Let’s sit down now, quiet please.”
But it’s pretty hopeless. Some people are cheering ’cause they liked what Laurie said, some people are screaming ’cause we’re graduating, other people are going mental ’cause it’s fun to go mental, especially in a crowd of people who are all going mental with you.
Laurie just sits on her chair on the stage, staring at her notebook. Fey Hayes gets up and shakes her hand, but you can tell Mr. Rogers wants to pop her one.
We nickname her Laurie Fonda.
* * *
We’ve turned in our caps and gowns so now it’s time to get shit-faced. Rick Foley is having a kegger tonight, our final blowout as the class of ’78. In keeping with the spirit of our class, there are separate and unequal parties for each clique. Laurie invited me to a brainiac party where they’ll drink wine and listen to music and play board games like Risk or Monopoly. I told her that I liked her speech and to celebrate, I was gonna get smashed at Rick Foley’s house. She kind of cringed but then she told me to enjoy myself.
Rick Foley’s parents are at the party so it’s hard to find a place to get high. But leave it to Rick Foley; he’s thought of everything, and there’s a stash of brownies in the basement. It’s kinda weird with magic brownies ’cause you get high, then you get the munchies, so then you eat more brownies, and then you’re stoned to the gills. That’s what Tommy said anyway, right before he crashed beneath the Ping-Pong table.
I’m only a little high when I see Jon Thompson come down the stairs by himself. He sees me too and stops, and I can tell he’s wondering if he should go back upstairs. But finally he comes all the way down and grunts, “Hey.”
I nod. I expect him to avoid me, but he stands right next to me. I look at his chocolate hair and I still want to touch it. He’s afraid of me, but he’s like the omega wolf who crawls to the alpha, getting his permission to hang with the pack. He must think that a good strategy is a common enemy, so he says, “Now I know why you broke up with Allison. Stupid cunt won’t put out.”
“She’s not a cunt and she broke up with me, I didn’t break up with her.”
He looks at me funny. I was supposed to agree with him and then stand around bitching all night about Allison or maybe girls in general. He says, “You still like her?”
“Yeah.”
He shakes his head. “’Cause you can have her, man. Good luck, you’ll fucking need it.”
What is it about this guy? I don’t know whether to kick his ass or grab it with both hands. I say, “She has a mind of her own, you know, and she’s not yours to give to anybody. Jeez, you can say some really stupid shit, you know that?”
He mumbles, “Sorry.” His attempt at détente a bust, he walks away, looking for the brownies that are almost all gone. I see Tommy’s feet move a little under the Ping-Pong table so I fill up my cup with beer and sit down next to where he lies on the floor. It’s kinda uncomfortable ’cause I’m all stooped over.
Tommy says, real soft, “I’m so stoned, Jesus, I am so stoned.”
I take a sip and spill a little on my shirt; I filled the cup up too much. I wipe myself and ask Tommy, “Have you seen Rick Foley anywhere?”
Tommy rolls his head back and forth. “He’s passed out in the backyard. We stashed him in the garage so his parents won’t find out.”
I laugh.
Tommy says, “You’re my best friend, you know that? You’re my main man, Kev.”
“Thanks. You’re pretty fucked up, aren’t you?”
He giggles and rolls onto his side, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Yeah. But I’m telling the truth, you know, you’re the best friend I ever had. You’re like my brother, Kev.”
“You’re like my brother too.”
He closes his eyes. “That’s cool. We’re brothers. We gotta find a place to live or I’m gonna kill my mom.” He opens his eyes back up. “Oh, sorry! I’m sorry. Your mom’s dead. I’m sorry.”
I smirk. “It’s cool, don’t freak.”
He’s looking right at me. “But I’m really, really sorry, Kev. Your mom was so cool.”
I look at my beer. “She was?”
Tommy’s gushing. “Oh, yeah, yeah, she was so cool. I really liked her. Remember when I slept over when we were ten and I broke a window? She didn’t yell or anything. She never even told my mom about it. That was cool.”
I nod.
Now he says, “And when my folks split up, I was practically living at your house. I’d talk to her about stuff and she’d listen to me, you know, really listen.”
“Why do you get along with my family so much better than I do?”
He giggles again. “’Cause they’re so cool. Yeah. So very cool.”
We’re quiet for a while and every couple of minutes somebody sticks their head under the table, wanting to know what’s going on. Some jock says, “What, you guys making out or something?”
Before I can tell him to fuck off, Tommy says, “Yeah.” He pats the floor. “Come on down so I can fuck that tight little pussy of yours.”
Oh, my God. I laugh really hard and say to the guy, “I can fuck you better than he can.” I grab my crotch and I say, like I’m stuck behind one of those stupid free sample tables at Red Owl, “Taste and compare!”
His mouth drops open and then he says, “You guys are sick.”
I say, “Aw, don’t be such a priss. I bet you’re a screamer.”
The guy’s there one second and gone the next. Tommy’s still giggling and rolling around on the floor. Then he says, “Kev, I don’t feel so good.” That’s when the brownies and about a six-pack of beer come out of his mouth.
“Oh, man, Tommy, you just spewed all over. Jesus.”
He just says, “Ohhhhhh.”
I crawl around him and pull him out from under the table by his armpits. “Do you think you can stand up?”
He moans. Now I almost puke because there’s like strings of spit hanging off his lips. I look around at the gawkers, but nobody’s laughing at Tommy ’cause he looks so gross. I whisper, “Come on, let’s find a bathroom,” as I yank him up off the floor. He leans into me hard and says, “I’m sorry, Kev, I’m really sorry.”
Then I think about what he said to the jock and I laugh. “Don’t be,” I tell him. “This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”
Tommy smiles at me with his eyes closed.
JULY 1978
Aunt Nora runs into the sitting room, a big man smile on her big man face. I can hardly move. Red Owl is out of control right before the Fourth of July holiday and I’ve just come off a twelve-hour shift. I barely hear her when she says, “It’s Allison on the phone for you!”
When I don’t jump straight up in the air, she looks disappointed. She says, “Hurry along, you might not get another chance.”
She’s hovering around in the kitchen when I pick up the phone. I give her a look and she goes back in the sitting room, but just barely. She turns off the TV so she won’t miss anything.
I say, “Hey.”
Allison says, “Hi, Kevin.”
And?
She says, “I feel bad that I’ve been avoiding you.”
“It’s cool.”
She says, “No, it’s not, it was a really immature thing to do. I was just embarrassed.”
“I’m the one who should be embarrassed. I’m just glad you didn’t tell anybody that I couldn’t get it up.”
From the silence on her end I know she’s blushing. Finally, she’s able to say, “I would never do that. You guys make too big a deal out of stuff like that. You know that I like you a lot, Kevin, I still do.”
I hear Aunt Nora inching toward the kitchen. I say, “Hold on a second.” I put my hand over the phone and say, “Would you give me two seconds of privacy, for Christ’s sake?”
Aunt Nora says, “Language,” and heads upstairs.
“Sorry about that. My aunt has to stick it in everything.”
Allison laughs and says, “I almost miss her. I bet she’s thrilled that we’ve stopped seeing each other.”
“She likes you now that you dumped me.”
“I didn’t dump you, Kevin. I just thought that … you didn’t want me. That I wasn’t pretty enough or something.”
“Girls worry too much about that. Anyway, you’re going with Jon Thompson now.”
She makes a snort noise and says, “Not anymore, I’m not. He’s such an asshole, pardon my French.”
“Yeah, well, he knows what he wants.”
“Let’s not waste time talking about him. Are you doing alright?”
“Working my ass off.”
“I’ve thought about dropping by to see you but I wasn’t sure it was a good idea.”
When I don’t say anything, she says, “I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you wanted to get a burger tonight. I have the car.”
“I don’t know, Allison, I’m pretty beat.”
The way she says it tells me that she’s starting to cry. “I miss being with you. I miss calling you honey. I miss the way you used to hold me. I’m sorry, Kevin, it’s just I was so embarrassed. I felt humiliated, you know? Like there was something wrong with me. And then you never called.”
I look at the phone. High school is finally over, and I lived through it. I don’t have to do this if I don’t want to, nobody will talk, but if they do, I don’t have to see them ever again, so what does it matter? I don’t wanna do this. I could lie, like Dad does, but I decide to tell her the truth. I say, “I think you’re really cool and pretty and everything, Allison. You mean a lot to me. But, you know, I’ve got something else going on now. I’m really sorry.”
She’s quiet for a second, and then she says, “Okay. It’s my fault, I should have known you’d be going with somebody else by now. Maybe I’ll catch you later?”
“Cool. See ya around.”
She says in short hard breaths, “Bye, Kevin. Take care of yourself.”
I put the phone down and rub my eyes. I just want to go to bed. I just want to be left alone.
* * *
Lorraine’s reading the Enquirer. It’s Thursday night and nobody’s shopping ’cause the weather’s so nice. In the winter they don’t shop, ’cause the weather’s so bad. It gives Lorraine a lot of free time at register three.
“Mmmm, look at this, John-John Kennedy is breaking with the family tradition and going to Brown. How do you like that?”
How am I supposed to like it?
Lorraine says, “He’s turned out to be so handsome. I remember when he was a little boy and saluted his father’s casket. It just broke my heart. Poor little boy.”
In my family, the Kennedys are saints. Aunt Nora and Mom used to talk about them all the time. I remember how Aunt Nora spent a week in bed after Bobby was shot. How neither of them ever forgave Jackie for marrying again. Aunt Nora has a shrine to the Kennedys and Martin Luther King, Jr.—another one of her heroes—in her tiny dining room. Whenever I walk by it, she says, “Stop and say a prayer for the greatest men of our time.” Whenever she said it, I felt guilty for fantasizing about John-John.
Lorraine says, “Hello? Anybody home?”
“What?”
Lorraine tsk-tsks. “Honestly, Kevin, you’re always a million miles away.”
I shrug.
“Isn’t it a shame you’re not going to Brown? You and John-John would be classmates.”
Yeah, Brown was beating down my door to get me to enroll. The recruiter said, We need more homosexuals with C averages who can’t afford our tuition. Wanna bunk with John-John?
Lorraine says, “The U is a good school though. Plus you get to stay in Minneapolis, so I don’t have to lose my star bagger.”
Lorraine’s trying to cheer me up. So I say, “Lorraine, are you sweet on me?”
She snorts and says, “Oh, you!”
So we’re enjoying ourselves when the miserable old cow walks through the sliding doors in a maternity dress. She doesn’t stop to grab a cart. Instead, she walks straight over to us and says, “Good evening, Kevin.”
Lorraine almost chokes. “Well, look at you, back after all this time! And expecting, to boot! Congratulations, you must be thrilled.”
The miserable old cow says, “Oh, I am, I am. But I suppose Kevin’s already told you all about it.”
Lorraine smiles way too big and says, “About what?”
The cow looks at me and says in a voice that’s borderline pissed off. “About becoming my stepson. He did tell you that his father and I got married, didn’t he?”
Lorraine puts her hands on her cheeks and sucks all the air out of the place. “Oh, no! Not a word! Oh, my God, you snagged Patrick Doyle! Good for you, honey, good for you!”
The cow and I just shoot each other looks.
Then Lorraine figures it out. She says, “That means you’re going to have a little brother or sister, Kevin! Oh, my! Isn’t this exciting? Kevin’s going to be a big brother, oh, how wonderful.”
The cow says, “I suppose Kevin wanted me to break the news to you myself.”
Yeah, a checker at a store you never go to anymore shouldn’t have to hear it on the street.
Lorraine says, “So when are you due?”
“December. It looks like I’ll have an extra-special Christmas this year.”
Lorraine coos, “Oh, isn’t that marvelous? You must have to pinch yourself.”
How ’bout a right cross?
The cow moos, “If you had told me even six months ago that I’d be an old married lady again with a baby on the way, I would have said, ‘You’re crazy!’ It just goes to show you how life can change like that.” She snaps her fingers.
