#GEA2 – Novel Study (SLO #2 and SLO #5)
Points Total: 100 points
Due: Module 7
Purpose: The purpose of this assignment is to use critical, analytical, and creative thinking to
provide an informed discussion on the main character of a young adult novel by applying the
main ideas and concepts from the course while problem solving how learning and development
can be more accurately depicted through the main character as the premise unfolds.
Description: At the beginning of the semester students will choose one of four popular novels to
read (i.e., Wonder, The Girl Who Threw Butterflies, Thirteen Reasons Why, or the Perks of Being
a Wallflower). The students are to read designated chapters or pages each week using guided
questions to help them in interpreting and critically analyzing the novel in relation to the topics
reviewed in this course. During Module 7 students will critically think and provide an informed
reaction to the novel based on the information learned in the course including how this
information impacts their understanding of the main character’s learning and development.
Reactions must be based on the guided questions provided.
Grading: Students will be graded on the novel study based on the use of critical and analytical
thinking, problem solving, creative thinking, and quality of written communication for a total
score.
Expectations: Within their novel study, students must:
1.) Critically and analytically discuss a minimum of four applications made between the topics
reviewed throughout the semester and the character’s experiences by comprehensively exploring
issues, ideas, artifacts, and events before accepting or formulating opinions or conclusions.
2.) Creatively break down the main character’s persona based on these applications including
examples of specific times throughout the novel when the author’s portrayal of the character
coincides with the knowledge obtained in this course. Students will (1) combine or synthesize
existing ideas, images, or expertise in original ways and (2) think, react, and work in imaginative
ways, characterized by innovation, divergent thinking, and risk taking.
3.) Problem solve how the author could have altered the premise of the book to incorporate a
more accurate depiction of learning and development by providing alternate solutions to the
character development and considering how the outcome might differ as a result of this change.
Students will design, evaluate, and implement a strategy to achieve the desired goals.
4.) Produce well-organized, well- developed statements that reflect appropriate use of language to
clearly present these specific ideas/concepts. The reflection should be a minimum of four pages
long (double-spaced, one-inch margins, Time New Romans 12-point font). It must be evident
that the guided questions were reflected on for each of the topics discussed and evidence from the
material reviewed during the course must be used in support of the reaction and character break
down. It is expected that students be working on this assignment throughout the semester.
Quality of writing will be assessed. It is expected that grammar, spelling, and punctuation be
reviewed prior to submission.
Criteria
Ratings: Criteria Embedded Throughout Curriculum
Novice (0-8 points)
Communication:
Students will produce
well-organized, welldeveloped statements
that reflect appropriate
use of language to
clearly present specific
ideas/concepts to
distinct audiences.
Critical and Analytical
Thinking: Students will
comprehensively explore
issues, ideas, artifacts,
and events before
accepting or formulating
opinions or conclusions.
•
Student demonstrates minimal attention to context,
audience, purpose, and to the assigned task.
•
Student uses appropriate and relevant content to develop
simple ideas in some part of the assignment.
•
Student attempts to use a consistent system for basic
organization and presentation.
•
Student demonstrates an attempt to use sources to
support ideas and uses language that sometimes
impedes meaning because of errors in usage.
•
Student states problem to be considered without
clarification or description.
•
Student gathers information without
interpretation/evaluation; viewpoints of experts are
taken as fact without question.
Developing (9-17 points)
Proficient (18-25 points)
•
Student demonstrates an adequate understanding of
context, audience, and purpose and to the assigned
task.
•
Student demonstrates a thorough understanding of
context, audience, and purpose and to the assigned
task.
•
Student uses appropriate and relevant content to
explore and develop ideas throughout most of the
assignment.
•
Student uses appropriate, relevant, and compelling
content to illustrate mastery of the subject.
•
•
Student demonstrates fairly consistent use of
important conventions such as organization, content,
presentation, and style.
Student demonstrates detailed attention to and
successful execution of a wide range of conventions
to an assignment.
•
•
Student demonstrates use of credible and relevant
sources to support ideas and uses straightforward
language that generally conveys meaning to
audience with some errors.
Student demonstrates skillful use of high-quality,
credible, and relevant sources to develop ideas and
uses graceful language that skillfully communicates
meaning to audience with very few, if any, errors.
•
Student identifies problem to be considered
critically, but description has some omissions or
needs additional clarity.
•
Student states an issue or problem clearly and
comprehensively, providing all relevant information
for full understanding
•
Student gathers information that is mostly
appropriate to develop a coherent analysis or
synthesis. The viewpoints of experts are subject to
questioning.
•
Student takes information from sources with enough
interpretation/evaluation to develop a comprehensive
analysis or synthesis. The viewpoints of experts are
questioned thoroughly.
•
Student thoroughly analyzes assumptions and
carefully evaluates the relevance of contexts when
presenting a position, taking into consideration the
complexities of an issue.
•
Student formulates a logical conclusion that reflects
her/his ability to place evidence and perspectives
discussed in priority order.
•
Student demonstrates some awareness of
assumptions and begins to identify some contexts
when presenting a position.
•
•
Student expresses a position that is simplistic and
obvious and reaches a conclusion that is inconsistently
tied to some of the information discussed/presented.
Student questions assumptions and identifies several
relevant contexts (sides of an issue) when presenting
a position.
•
Student considers opposing viewpoints when
formulating a logical conclusion that is tied to
appropriate information.
Problem Solving:
Students will design,
evaluate, and implement
a strategy to answer
open-ended questions or
achieve desired goals.
•
Student demonstrates a limited ability to identify a
problem statement or related contextual factors.
•
Student identifies approaches for solving the problem
that do not apply to the specific context.
•
•
•
Creative Thinking:
Students will (1)
combine or synthesize
existing ideas, images, or
expertise in original ways
and (2) think, react, and
work in imaginative
ways, characterized by
innovation, divergent
thinking, and risk taking.
Student proposes a solution/hypothesis that is vague
and difficult to evaluate.
Student provides a superficial solution that is
implemented in a manner that does not directly address
the problem statement
Student reviews results superficially with no
consideration of need for further work.
•
Student successfully reproduces an appropriate
exemplar, but stays strictly within the guidelines of
the assignment.
•
Student uses only a single approach to solve the
problem.
•
Student acknowledges/mentions in passing alternate,
divergent, or contradictory perspectives or ideas.
•
Student reformulates a collection of already available
ideas.
•
Student recognizes existing connections among
ideas or solutions.
•
Student demonstrates the ability to construct a
problem statement with evidence of most relevant
contextual factors.
•
Student demonstrates the ability to construct a clear
and insightful problem statement with evidence of
all relevant contextual factors.
•
Student identifies multiple approaches to solve a
problem, only some of which apply within a specific
context.
•
Student identifies multiple approaches to solve a
problem that apply within a specific context.
•
•
Student proposes a solution/hypothesis that indicates
comprehension of the problem.
Student proposes multiple solutions/ hypotheses that
indicate insightful comprehension of the problem.
•
•
Student provides a solution that is adequate and
address multiple contextual factors of the problem.
•
Student reviews results relative to the problem with
some consideration of need for further work.
Student provides a solution that is insightful and
elegant and implements the solution in a manner that
thoroughly addresses multiple contextual factors of
the problem.
•
Student thoroughly reviews results relative to the
problem with specific consideration of need for
further work.
•
Student evaluates the creative process and final
product using disciplinary-appropriate criteria.
•
Student actively seeks out and follows through on
untested and potentially risky directions/approaches
to the assignment.
•
Student develops a logical, consistent plan to solve
the problem, recognizing the consequence of the
solution. Student can articulate the reason(s) for the
plan.
•
Student extends a novel or unique
idea/question/format/product to create new
knowledge that crosses boundaries by integrating
alternate, divergent, or contradictory perspectives.
•
Student transforms ideas or solutions into entirely
new forms.
•
•
Student creates an entirely new object/ solution/idea
that is disciplinary-appropriate or successfully
adapts an appropriate exemplar to his/her own
specifications.
Student actively incorporates new directions or
approaches into the assignment without going
beyond the guidelines of the assignment.
•
Student selects a logical, consistent plan to solve a
problem from a list of alternatives by considering
and rejecting less acceptable approaches.
•
Student recognizes and incorporates into the
assignment alternative, divergent, or contradictory
perspectives.
•
Student experiments with creating a novel or unique
idea/question/format/product in an effort to
synthesize ideas or solutions into a coherent whole.
The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
Module 1
Part 1 (pages 2 – 39)
1. Describe Charlie based on his first letter. Describe his family and his
relationship with others. How might these relationships influence his
reaction to Michael committing suicide?
2. Why does Charlie cry all the time?
3. Why is it difficult for Charlie to make friends? Why does he want to be
anonymous?
4. Think about Charlie’s cognitive development. Is it on target? What about his
social and emotional development?
5. Explain the relationship between Charlie’s sister and her boyfriend. Why
does she let him hit her?
6. How is Patrick’s description of the relationship between Mother and child
and between boyfriend and girlfriend on page 23 reflective of adolescent
identity?
7. How has Charlie’s friendship with Patrick and Sam changed him in Part 1 of
the book?
Module 2
pages 42-75
1. Why is Bill giving Charlie extra assignments?
2. Charlie’s sister says that Sam has low self-esteem. Is this accurate? Why or
why not? Does Charlie’s sister have low-esteem? Explain. Also describe
Charlie’s sense of self and how it has evolved throughout.
3. How does the experiment described on page 50 relate to the characters in
the book and their experiences?
4. How do family dynamics described in this section influence Charlie’s
personality?
5. Describe Charlie’s level of cognitive development.
Module 3
Read pages 75-106
1. Is it surprising that Charlie’s mom and dad worried about Charlie as a
toddler?
2. Describe the family dynamics present in Charlie’s dad’s side of the family and
how it has or hasn’t changed from when Charlie’s dad was younger.
3. What effect did Aunt Helen have on Charlie? What happened to Charlie after
she died? How has it impacted his identity development?
4. What does Charlie experience that makes others worry about him and end
him up in the doctor and psychiatrist offices? Why might he experience these
things?
5. Why might spending time at the Big Boy conversing with friends help
Charlie?
Module 4
pages 106-139
1. Why did Charlie have so much fun playing Rocky in the Rocky Horror Picture
Show?
2. On page 118 Charlie says that his sister is counting on him. How might this
affect Charlie’s self-worth?
3. Explain the relationship between Mary Elizabeth and Charlie during this part
of the book. What might it be doing to Charlie’s sense of self?
4. Why does Charlie choose to kiss Sam instead of Mary Elizabeth while playing
truth or dare? Describe Charlie’s cognitive development. What is his
motivation?
5. Is Charlie different that his friends and classmates? How do his individual
differences influence his relationship with his family and friends?
Module 5
Read pages 142-167
1. How might the perceptions others have of Charlie influence his own self
development?
2. Why did Charlie go see his friends in Rocky Horror Picture Show after they
told him to stay away? Should he have stayed until the end? Why or why
not.
3. What motivated Charlie to stand up for Patrick in the cafeteria?
4. What motivated Sam to approach Charlie?
5. Describe Charlie’s current relationship with Patrick based on Selman’s
Perspective-taking model.
Module 6
pages 167-182
1. How does the statement on page 169 “I think the idea is that every person
has to live for his or her own life and then make the choice to share it with
other people” relate to Charlie’s life?
2. How has Charlie matured over the course of this book? Refer to his cognitive,
social-emotional, moral, and personal development.
3. Why did Bill invite Charlie to his townhouse and tell him how smart he was?
Was Charlie’s reaction characteristic of his personality?
Module 7
pages 183-213
1. Predict what Charlie’s next few years of high school will be like without his
friends. Why did Charlie get along better with kids three years older than
him?
2. Why did Charlie write letters to a stranger?
3. What did Charlie realize about Aunt Helen and his childhood? How did this
experience affect him as a person and who he is?
4. What impact did Charlie’s mom, dad, brother, and sister have on his life?
What about Sam, Patrick, and Bill?
5. How might Charlie’s life been different if he hadn’t met Sam and Patrick?
acclaim for stephen chbosky’s
the perks of being a wallflower
“Charlie’s loving instincts are very strong. Again and again throughout the book he exhibits pure
wisdom we all like to read about and witness. And Stephen Chbosky doesn’t let us down. The
language is plain and springy and blunt… In this culture where adolescence is a dirty word, I hope
nothing bad ever happens to this [protagonist].”
—LA Times
“Charlie, his friends and family are palpably real… [he] develops from an observant wallflower
into his own man of action.… This report on his life will engage teen readers for years to come.”
—School Library Journal, starred review
“Chbosky captures adolescent angst, confusion, and joy as Charlie reveals his innermost thoughts
while trying to discover who he is and whom he is to become. Intellectually precocious, Charlie[’s]…
reflections… are compelling. He vacillates between full involvement in the crazy course of his life
and backing off completely. Charlie is a likeable kid whose humor-laced trials and tribulations will
please both adults and teens.”
—Booklist
“Chbosky adds an upbeat ending to a tale of teenaged angst—the right combination of realism
and uplift to allow it on high school reading lists.… [The protagonist] oozes with sincerity, rails
against celebrity phoniness, and feels an extraliterary bond with his favorite writers (Harper Lee,
Fitzgerald, Kerouac, Ayn Rand, etc.)… A plain-written narrative suggesting passivity, and thinking
too much, lead to confusion and anxiety.”
—Kirkus
An Amazon.com #1 Young Adult Bestseller
For information regarding special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster
Special Sales at 1-800-456-6798 or business@simonandschuster.com
PERSON/A PAPER/A PROMISE
by Dr. Earl Reum used with author’s permission
A PERSON/A PAPER/A PROMISE REMEMBERED
by Patrick Comeaux used with author’s permission
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.
An Original Publication of MTV Books/Pocket Books
GALLERY BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
Copyright © 1999 by Stephen Chbosky
MTV Music Television and all related titles, logos, and
characters are trademarks of MTV Networks, a division of
Viacom International Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form
whatsoever.
For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue
of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
ISBN-13: 978-0-671-02734-6
ISBN-10: 0-671-02734-4
eISBN-13: 978-1-439-12243-3
First MTV Books/Pocket Books trade paperback printing February 1999 40 39 38 37 36
POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.
Art direction by Stacy Drummond and Tracy Boychuk
Design by Stacy Drummond
Photography by Jason Stang
Printed in the U.S.A.
For my family
acknowledgments
I just wanted to say about all those listed that there would be no book without them, and I thank
them with all of my heart.
Greer Kessel Hendricks
Heather Neely
Lea, Fred, and Stacy Chbosky
Robbie Thompson
Christopher McQuarrie
Margaret Mehring
Stewart Stern
Kate Degenhart
Mark McClain Wilson
David Wilcox
Kate Ward
Tim Perell
Jack Horner
Eduardo Braniff
And finally…
Dr. Earl Reum for writing a beautiful poem
and Patrick Comeaux for remembering it wrong when he was 14.
part 1
August 25, 1991
Dear friend,
I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand and didn’t try to sleep with that
person at that party even though you could have. Please don’t try to figure out who she is because then
you might figure out who I am, and I really don’t want you to do that. I will call people by different
names or generic names because I don’t want you to find me. I didn’t enclose a return address for the
same reason. I mean nothing bad by this. Honest.
I just need to know that someone out there listens and understands and doesn’t try to sleep with
people even if they could have. I need to know that these people exist.
I think you of all people would understand that because I think you of all people are alive and
appreciate what that means. At least I hope you do because other people look to you for strength and
friendship and it’s that simple. At least that’s what I’ve heard.
So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to
figure out how that could be.
I try to think of my family as a reason for me being this way, especially after my friend Michael
stopped going to school one day last spring and we heard Mr. Vaughn’s voice on the loudspeaker.
“Boys and girls, I regret to inform you that one of our students has passed on. We will hold a
memorial service for Michael Dobson during assembly this Friday.”
I don’t know how news travels around school and why it is very often right. Maybe it was in the
lunchroom. It’s hard to remember. But Dave with the awkward glasses told us that Michael killed
himself. His mom played bridge with one of Michael’s neighbors and they heard the gunshot.
I don’t really remember much of what happened after that except that my older brother came to Mr.
Vaughn’s office in my middle school and told me to stop crying. Then, he put his arm on my shoulder
and told me to get it out of my system before Dad came home. We then went to eat french fries at
McDonald’s and he taught me how to play pinball. He even made a joke that because of me he got to
skip an afternoon of school and asked me if I wanted to help him work on his Camaro. I guess I was
pretty messy because he never let me work on his Camaro before.
At the guidance counselor sessions, they asked the few of us who actually liked Michael to say a
few words. I think they were afraid that some of us would try to kill ourselves or something because
they looked very tense and one of them kept touching his beard.
Bridget who is crazy said that sometimes she thought about suicide when commercials come on
during TV. She was sincere and this puzzled the guidance counselors. Carl who is nice to everyone
said that he felt very sad, but could never kill himself because it is a sin.
This one guidance counselor went through the whole group and finally came to me.
“What do you think, Charlie?”
What was so strange about this was the fact that I had never met this man because he was a
“specialist” and he knew my name even though I wasn’t wearing a name tag like they do in open
house.
“Well, I think that Michael was a nice guy and I don’t understand why he did it. As much as I feel
sad, I think that not knowing is what really bothers me.”
I just reread that and it doesn’t sound like how I talk. Especially in that office because I was crying
still. I never did stop crying.
The counselor said that he suspected that Michael had “problems at home” and didn’t feel like he
had anyone to talk to. That’s maybe why he felt all alone and killed himself.
Then, I started screaming at the guidance counselor that Michael could have talked to me. And I
started crying even harder. He tried to calm me down by saying that he meant an adult like a teacher
or a guidance counselor. But it didn’t work and eventually my brother came by the middle school in
his Camaro to pick me up.
For the rest of the school year, the teachers treated me different and gave me better grades even
though I didn’t get any smarter. To tell you the truth, I think I made them all nervous.
Michael’s funeral was strange because his father didn’t cry. And three months later he left
Michael’s mom. At least according to Dave at lunchtime. I think about it sometimes. I wonder what
went on in Michael’s house around dinner and TV shows. Michael never left a note or at least his
parents didn’t let anyone see it. Maybe it was “problems at home.” I wish I knew. It might make me
miss him more clearly. It might have made sad sense.
One thing I do know is that it makes me wonder if I have “problems at home” but it seems to me
that a lot of other people have it a lot worse. Like when my sister’s first boyfriend started going
around with another girl and my sister cried for the whole weekend.
My dad said, “There are other people who have it a lot worse.”
And my mom was quiet. And that was that. A month later, my sister met another boy and started
playing happy records again. And my dad kept working. And my mom kept sweeping. And my brother
kept fixing his Camaro. That is, until he left for college at the beginning of the summer. He’s playing
football for Penn State but he needed the summer to get his grades right to play football.
I don’t think that there is a favorite kid in our family. There are three of us and I am the youngest.
My brother is the oldest. He is a very good football player and likes his car. My sister is very pretty
and mean to boys and she is in the middle. I get straight A’s now like my sister and that is why they
leave me alone.
My mom cries a lot during TV programs. My dad works a lot and is an honest man. My Aunt Helen
used to say that my dad was going to be too proud to have a midlife crisis. It took me until around now
to understand what she meant by that because he just turned forty and nothing has changed.
My Aunt Helen was my favorite person in the whole world. She was my mom’s sister. She got
straight A’s when she was a teenager and she used to give me books to read. My father said that the
books were a little too old for me, but I liked them so he just shrugged and let me read.
My Aunt Helen lived with the family for the last few years of her life because something very bad
happened to her. Nobody would tell me what happened then even though I always wanted to know.
When I was around seven, I stopped asking about it because I kept asking like kids always do and my
Aunt Helen started crying very hard.
That’s when my dad slapped me, saying, “You’re hurting your aunt Helen’s feelings!” I didn’t want
to do that, so I stopped. Aunt Helen told my father not to hit me in front of her ever again and my
father said this was his house and he would do what he wanted and my mom was quiet and so were my
brother and sister.
I don’t remember much more than that because I started crying really hard and after a while my dad
had my mom take me to my room. It wasn’t until much later that my mom had a few glasses of white
wine and told me what happened to her sister. Some people really do have it a lot worse than I do.
They really do.
I should probably go to sleep now. It’s very late. I don’t know why I wrote a lot of this down for you
to read. The reason I wrote this letter is because I start high school tomorrow and I am really afraid of
going.
Love always,
Charlie
September 7, 1991
Dear friend,
I do not like high school. The cafeteria is called the “Nutrition Center,” which is strange. There is
this one girl in my advanced english class named Susan. In middle school, Susan was very fun to be
around. She liked movies, and her brother Frank made her tapes of this great music that she shared
with us. But over the summer she had her braces taken off, and she got a little taller and prettier and
grew breasts. Now, she acts a lot dumber in the hallways, especially when boys are around. And I
think it’s sad because Susan doesn’t look as happy. To tell you the truth, she doesn’t like to admit
she’s in the advanced english class, and she doesn’t like to say “hi” to me in the hall anymore.
When Susan was at the guidance counselor meeting about Michael, she said that Michael once told
her that she was the prettiest girl in the whole world, braces and all. Then, he asked her to “go with
him,” which was a big deal at any school. They call it “going out” in high school. And they kissed and
talked about movies, and she missed him terribly because he was her best friend.
It’s funny, too, because boys and girls normally weren’t best friends around my school. But Michael
and Susan were. Kind of like my Aunt Helen and me. I’m sorry. “My Aunt Helen and I.” That’s one
thing I learned this week. That and more consistent punctuation.
I keep quiet most of the time, and only one kid named Sean really seemed to notice me. He waited
for me after gym class and said really immature things like how he was going to give me a “swirlie,”
which is where someone sticks your head in the toilet and flushes to make your hair swirl around. He
seemed pretty unhappy as well, and I told him so. Then, he got mad and started hitting me, and I just
did the things my brother taught me to do. My brother is a very good fighter.
“Go for the knees, throat, and eyes.”
And I did. And I really hurt Sean. And then I started crying. And my sister had to leave her senior
honors class and drive me home. I got called to Mr. Small’s office, but I didn’t get suspended or
anything because a kid told Mr. Small the truth about the fight.
“Sean started it. It was self-defense.”
And it was. I just don’t understand why Sean wanted to hurt me. I didn’t do anything to him. I am
very small. That’s true. But I guess Sean didn’t know I could fight. The truth is I could have hurt him
a lot worse. And maybe I should have. I thought I might have to if he came after the kid who told Mr.
Small the truth, but Sean never did go after him. So, everything was forgotten.
Some kids look at me strange in the hallways because I don’t decorate my locker, and I’m the one
who beat up Sean and couldn’t stop crying after he did it. I guess I’m pretty emotional.
It has been very lonely because my sister is busy being the oldest one in our family. My brother is
busy being a football player at Penn State. After the training camp, his coach said that he was second
string and that when he starts learning the system, he will be first string.
My dad really hopes he will make it to the pros and play for the Steelers. My mom is just glad he
gets to go to college for free because my sister doesn’t play football, and there wouldn’t be enough
money to send both of them. That’s why she wants me to keep working hard, so I’ll get an academic
scholarship.
So, that’s what I’m doing until I meet a friend here. I was hoping that the kid who told the truth
could become a friend of mine, but I think he was just being a good guy by telling.
Love always,
Charlie
September 11, 1991
Dear friend,
I don’t have a lot of time because my advanced english teacher assigned us a book to read, and I
like to read books twice. Incidentally, the book is To Kill a Mockingbird. If you haven’t read it, I think
you should because it is very interesting. The teacher has assigned us a few chapters at a time, but I do
not like to read books like that. I am halfway through the first time.
Anyway, the reason I am writing to you is because I saw my brother on television. I normally don’t
like sports too much, but this was a special occasion. My mother started crying, and my father put his
arm around her shoulder, and my sister smiled, which is funny because my brother and sister always
fight when he’s around.
But my older brother was on television, and so far, it has been the highlight of my two weeks in
high school. I miss him terribly, which is strange, because we never really talked much when he was
here. We still don’t talk, to be honest.
I would tell you his position, but like I said, I would like to be anonymous to you. I hope you
understand.
Love always,
Charlie
September 16, 1991
Dear friend,
I have finished To Kill a Mockingbird. It is now my favorite book of all time, but then again, I
always think that until I read another book. My advanced english teacher asked me to call him “Bill”
when we’re not in class, and he gave me another book to read. He says that I have a great skill at
reading and understanding language, and he wanted me to write an essay about To Kill a Mockingbird.
I mentioned this to my mom, and she asked why Bill didn’t recommend that I just take a sophomore
or junior english class. And I told her that Bill said that these were basically the same classes with
more complicated books, and that it wouldn’t help me. My mom said that she wasn’t sure and would
talk to him during open house. Then, she asked me to help her by washing the dishes, which I did.
Honestly, I don’t like doing dishes. I like eating with my fingers and off napkins, but my sister says
that doing so is bad for the environment. She is a part of the Earth Day Club here in high school, and
that is where she meets the boys. They are all very nice to her, and I don’t really understand why
except maybe the fact that she is pretty. She really is mean to these boys.
One boy has it particularly hard. I won’t tell you his name. But I will tell you all about him. He has
very nice brown hair, and he wears it long with a ponytail. I think he will regret this when he looks
back on his life. He is always making mix tapes for my sister with very specific themes. One was
called “Autumn Leaves.” He included many songs by the Smiths. He even hand-colored the cover.
After the movie he rented was over, and he left, my sister gave me the tape.
“Do you want this, Charlie?”
I took the tape, but I felt weird about it because he had made it for her. But I listened to it. And
loved it very much. There is one song called “Asleep” that I would like you to listen to. I told my
sister about it. And a week later she thanked me because when this boy asked her about the tape, she
said exactly what I said about the song “Asleep,” and this boy was very moved by how much it meant
to her. I hope this means I will be good at dating when the time comes.
I should stick to the subject, though. That is what my teacher Bill tells me to do because I write kind
of the way I talk. I think that is why he wants me to write that essay about To Kill a Mockingbird.
This boy who likes my sister is always respectful to my parents. My mom likes him very much
because of this. My dad thinks he’s soft. I think that’s why my sister does what she does to him.
This one night, she was saying very mean things about how he didn’t stand up to the class bully
when he was fifteen or something like that. To tell you the truth, I was just watching the movie he had
rented, so I wasn’t paying very close attention to their fight. They fight all the time, so I figured that
the movie was at least something different, which it wasn’t because it was a sequel.
Anyway, after she leaned into him for about four movie scenes, which I guess is about ten minutes
or so, he started crying. Crying very hard. Then, I turned around, and my sister pointed at me.
“You see. Even Charlie stood up to his bully. You see.”
And this guy got really red-faced. And he looked at me. Then, he looked at her. And he wound up
and hit her hard across the face. I mean hard. I just froze because I couldn’t believe he did it. It was
not like him at all to hit anybody. He was the boy that made mix tapes with themes and hand-colored
covers until he hit my sister and stopped crying.
The weird part is that my sister didn’t do anything. She just looked at him very quietly. It was so
weird. My sister goes crazy if you eat the wrong kind of tuna, but here was this guy hitting her, and
she didn’t say anything. She just got soft and nice. And she asked me to leave, which I did. After the
boy had left, she said that they were “going out” and not to tell mom or dad what happened.
I guess he stood up to his bully. And I guess that makes sense.
That weekend, my sister spent a lot of time with this boy. And they laughed a lot more than they
usually did. On Friday night, I was reading my new book, but my brain got tired, so I decided to watch
some television instead. And I opened the door to the basement, and my sister and this boy were
naked.
He was on top of her, and her legs were draped over either side of the couch. And she screamed at
me in a whisper.
“Get out. You pervert.”
So, I left. The next day, we all watched my brother play football. And my sister invited this boy
over. I am not sure when he left the previous night. They held hands and acted like everything was
happy. And this boy said something about how the football team hasn’t been the same since my
brother graduated, and my dad thanked him. And when the boy left, my dad said that this boy was
becoming a fine young man who could carry himself. And my mom was quiet. And my sister looked
at me to make sure I wouldn’t say anything. And that was that.
“Yes. He is.” That’s all my sister could say. And I could see this boy at home doing his homework
and thinking about my sister naked. And I could see them holding hands at football games that they do
not watch. And I could see this boy throwing up in the bushes at a party house. And I could see my
sister putting up with it.
And I felt very bad for both of them.
Love always,
Charlie
September 18, 1991
Dear friend,
I never told you that I am in shop class, did I? Well, I am in shop class, and it is my favorite class
next to Bill’s advanced english class. I wrote the essay for To Kill a Mockingbird last night, and I
handed it in to Bill this morning. We are supposed to talk about it tomorrow during lunch period.
The point, though, is that there is a guy in shop class named “Nothing.” I’m not kidding. His name
is “Nothing.” And he is hilarious. “Nothing” got his name when kids used to tease him in middle
school. I think he’s a senior now. The kids started calling him Patty when his real name is Patrick.
And “Nothing” told these kids, “Listen, you either call me Patrick, or you call me nothing.”
So, the kids started calling him “Nothing.” And the name just stuck. He was a new kid in the school
district at the time because his dad married a new woman in this area. I think I will stop putting
quotation marks around Nothing’s name because it is annoying and disrupting my flow. I hope you do
not find this difficult to follow. I will make sure to differentiate if something comes up.
So, in shop class Nothing started to do a very funny impersonation of our teacher, Mr. Callahan. He
even painted in the mutton-chop sideburns with a grease pencil. Hilarious. When Mr. Callahan found
Nothing doing this near the belt sander, he actually laughed because Nothing wasn’t doing the
impersonation mean or anything. It was just that funny. I wish you could have been there because it
was the hardest I’ve laughed since my brother left. My brother used to tell Polish jokes, which I know
is wrong, but I just blocked out the Polish part and listened to the jokes. Hilarious.
Oh, incidentally, my sister asked for her “Autumn Leaves” mix tape back. She listens to it all the
time now.
Love always,
Charlie
September 29, 1991
Dear friend,
There is a lot to tell you about the last two weeks. A lot of it is good, but a lot of it is bad. Again, I
don’t know why this always happens.
First of all, Bill gave me a C on my To Kill a Mockingbird essay because he said that I run my
sentences together. I am trying now to practice not to do that. He also said that I should use the
vocabulary words that I learn in class like “corpulent” and “jaundice.” I would use them here, but I
really don’t think they are appropriate in this format.
To tell you the truth, I don’t know where they are appropriate to use. I’m not saying that you
shouldn’t know them. You should absolutely. But I just have never heard anyone use the words
“corpulent” and “jaundice” ever in my life. That includes teachers. So, what’s the point of using words
nobody else knows or can say comfortably? I just don’t understand that.
I feel the same way about some movie stars who are terrible to watch. Some of these people must
have a million dollars at least, and yet, they keep doing these movies. They blow up bad guys. They
yell at their detectives. They do interviews for magazines. Every time I see this one particular movie
star on a magazine, I can’t help but feel terribly sorry for her because nobody respects her at all, and
yet they keep interviewing her. And the interviews all say the same thing.
They start with what food they are eating in some restaurant. “As ___________ gingerly munched
her Chinese Chicken Salad, she spoke of love.” And all the covers say the same thing: “___________
gets to the bottom of stardom, love, and his/her hit new movie/television show/album.”
I think it’s nice for stars to do interviews to make us think they are just like us, but to tell you the
truth, I get the feeling that it’s all a big lie. The problem is I don’t know who’s lying. And I don’t
know why these magazines sell as much as they do. And I don’t know why the ladies in the dentist’s
office like them as much as they do. A Saturday ago, I was in the dentist’s office, and I heard this
conversation.
“Did you see that movie?” as she points to the cover.
“I did. I saw it with Harold.”
“What do you think?”
“She is just lovely.”
“Yeah. She is.”
“Oh, I have this new recipe.”
“Low-fat?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you have some time tomorrow?”
“No. Why don’t you have Mike fax it to Harold?”
“Okay.”
Then, these ladies started talking about the one star I mentioned before, and they both had very
strong opinions.
“I think it’s disgraceful.”
“Did you read the interview in Good Housekeeping?”
“A few months back?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Disgraceful.”
“Did you read the one in Cosmopolitan?”
“No.”
“God, it was practically the same interview.”
“I don’t know why they give her the time of day.”
The fact that one of these ladies was my mom made me feel particularly sad because my mom is
beautiful. And she’s always on a diet. Sometimes, my dad calls her beautiful, but she cannot hear him.
Incidentally, my dad is a very good husband. He’s just pragmatic.
After the dentist’s office, my mom drove me to the cemetery where a lot of her relatives are buried.
My dad does not like to go to the cemetery because it gives him the creeps. But I don’t mind going at
all because my Aunt Helen is buried there. My mom was always the pretty one, as they say, and my
Aunt Helen was always the other one. The nice thing was my Aunt Helen was never on a diet. And my
Aunt Helen was “corpulent.” Hey, I did it!
My Aunt Helen would always let us kids stay up and watch Saturday Night Live when she was babysitting or when she was living with us and my parents went to another couple’s house to get drunk and
play board games. When I was very little, I remember going to sleep, while my brother and sister and
Aunt Helen watched Love Boat and Fantasy Island. I could never stay awake when I was that little,
and I wish I could, because my brother and sister talk about those moments sometimes. Maybe it’s sad
that these are now memories. And maybe it’s not sad. And maybe it’s just the fact that we loved Aunt
Helen, especially me, and this was the time we could spend with her.
I won’t start listing television episode memories, except one because I guess we’re on the subject,
and it seems like something everyone can relate to in a small way. And since I don’t know you, I
figure that maybe I can write about something that you can relate to.
The family was sitting around, watching the final episode of M*A*S*H, and I’ll never forget it even
though I was very young. My mom was crying. My sister was crying. My brother was using every
ounce of strength he had not to cry. And my dad left during one of the final moments to make a
sandwich. Now, I don’t remember much about the program itself because I was too young, but my dad
never left to make a sandwich except during commercial breaks, and then he usually just sent my
mom. I walked to the kitchen, and I saw my dad making a sandwich… and crying. He was crying
harder than even my mom. And I couldn’t believe it. When he finished making his sandwich, he put
away the things in the refrigerator and stopped crying and wiped his eyes and saw me.
Then, he walked up, patted my shoulder, and said, “This is our little secret, okay, champ?”
“Okay,” I said.
And Dad picked me up with the arm that wasn’t holding the sandwich, and carried me to the room
that had the television, and put me on his lap for the rest of the television episode. At the end of the
episode, he picked me up, turned off the TV, and turned around.
And my dad declared, “That was a great series.”
And my mom said, “The best.”
And my sister asked, “How long was it on the air?”
And my brother replied, “Nine years, stupid.”
And my sister responded, “You… stupid.”
And my dad said, “Stop it, right now.”
And my mom said, “Listen to your father.”
And my brother said nothing.
And my sister said nothing.
And years later I found out my brother was wrong.
I went to the library to look up the figures, and I found out that the episode we watched is the
highest watched anything of television history, which I find amazing because it felt like just the five
of us.
You know… a lot of kids at school hate their parents. Some of them got hit. And some of them got
caught in the middle of wrong lives. Some of them were trophies for their parents to show the
neighbors like ribbons or gold stars. And some of them just wanted to drink in peace.
For me personally, as much as I don’t understand my mom and dad and as much as I feel sorry for
both of them sometimes, I can’t help but love them very much. My mom drives to visit the cemetery
of people she loves. My dad cried during M*A*S*H, and trusted me to keep his secret, and let me sit
on his lap, and called me “champ.”
Incidentally, I only have one cavity, and as much as my dentist asks me to, I just can’t bring myself
to floss.
Love always,
Charlie
October 6, 1991
Dear friend,
I feel very ashamed. I went to the high school football game the other day, and I don’t know exactly
why. In middle school, Michael and I would go to the games sometimes even though neither of us
were popular enough to go. It was just a place to go on Fridays when we didn’t want to watch
television. Sometimes, we would see Susan there, and she and Michael would hold hands.
But this time, I went alone because Michael is gone, and Susan hangs around different boys now,
and Bridget is still crazy, and Carl’s mom sent him to a Catholic school, and Dave with the awkward
glasses moved away. I was just kind of watching people, seeing who was in love and who was just
hanging around, and I saw that kid I told you about. Remember Nothing? Nothing was there at the
football game, and he was one of the few people who was not an adult that was actually watching the
game. I mean really watching the game. He would yell things out.
“C’mon, Brad!” That’s the name of our quarterback.
Now, normally I am very shy, but Nothing seemed like the kind of guy you could just walk up to at
a football game even though you were three years younger and not popular.
“Hey, you’re in my shop class!” He’s a very friendly person.
“I’m Charlie.” I said, not too shy.
“And I’m Patrick. And this is Sam.” He pointed to a very pretty girl next to him. And she waved to
me.
“Hey, Charlie.” Sam had a very nice smile.
They both told me to have a seat, and they both seemed to mean it, so I took a seat. I listened to
Nothing yell at the field. And I listened to his play-by-play analysis. And I figured out that this was a
kid who knew football very well. He actually knew football as well as my brother. Maybe I should call
Nothing “Patrick” from now on since that is how he introduced himself, and that is what Sam calls
him.
Incidentally, Sam has brown hair and very very pretty green eyes. The kind of green that doesn’t
make a big deal about itself. I would have told you that sooner, but under the stadium lights,
everything looked kind of washed out. It wasn’t until we went to the Big Boy, and Sam and Patrick
started to chain-smoke that I got a good look at her. The nice thing about the Big Boy was the fact that
Patrick and Sam didn’t just throw around inside jokes and make me struggle to keep up. Not at all.
They asked me questions.
“How old are you, Charlie?”
“Fifteen.”
“What do you want to do when you grow up?”
“I don’t know just yet.”
“What’s your favorite band?”
“I think maybe the Smiths because I love their song ‘Asleep,’ but I’m really not sure one way or the
other because I don’t know any other songs by them too well.”
“What’s your favorite movie?”
“I don’t know really. They’re all the same to me.”
“How about your favorite book?”
“This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald.”
“Why?”
“Because it was the last one I read.”
This made them laugh because they knew I meant it honest, not show-off. Then they told me their
favorites, and we sat quiet. I ate the pumpkin pie because the lady said it was in season, and Patrick
and Sam smoked more cigarettes.
I looked at them, and they looked really happy together. A good kind of happy. And even though I
thought Sam was very pretty and nice, and she was the first girl I ever wanted to ask on a date
someday when I can drive, I did not mind that she had a boyfriend, especially if he was a good guy
like Patrick.
“How long have you been ‘going out’?” I asked.
Then, they started laughing. Really laughing hard.
“What’s so funny?” I said.
“We’re brother and sister,” Patrick said, still laughing.
“But you don’t look alike,” I said.
That’s when Sam explained that they were actually stepsister and stepbrother since Patrick’s dad
married Sam’s mom. I was very happy to know that because I would really like to ask Sam on a date
someday. I really would. She is so nice.
I feel ashamed, though, because that night, I had a weird dream. I was with Sam. And we were both
naked. And her legs were spread over the sides of the couch. And I woke up. And I had never felt that
good in my life. But I also felt bad because I saw her naked without her permission. I think that I
should tell Sam about this, and I really hope it does not prevent us from maybe making up inside jokes
of our own. It would be very nice to have a friend again. I would like that even more than a date.
Love always,
Charlie
October 14, 1991
Dear friend,
Do you know what “masturbation” is? I think you probably do because you are older than me. But
just in case, I will tell you. Masturbation is when you rub your genitals until you have an orgasm.
Wow!
I thought that in those movies and television shows when they talk about having a coffee break that
they should have a masturbation break. But then again, I think this would decrease productivity.
I’m only being cute here. I don’t really mean it. I just wanted to make you smile. I meant the “wow”
though.
I told Sam that I dreamt that she and I were naked on the sofa, and I started crying because I felt
bad, and do you know what she did? She laughed. Not a mean laugh, either. A really nice, warm laugh.
She said that she thought I was being cute. And she said it was okay that I had a dream about her. And
I stopped crying. Sam then asked me if I thought she was pretty, and I told her I thought she was
“lovely.” Sam then looked me right in the eye.
“You know you’re too young for me, Charlie? You do know that?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I don’t want you to waste your time thinking about me that way.”
“I won’t. It was just a dream.”
Sam then gave me a hug, and it was strange because my family doesn’t hug a lot except my Aunt
Helen. But after a few moments, I could smell Sam’s perfume, and I could feel her body against me.
And I stepped back.
“Sam, I’m thinking about you that way.”
She just looked at me and shook her head. Then, she put her arm around my shoulder and walked
me down the hallway. We met Patrick outside because they didn’t like to go to class sometimes. They
preferred to smoke.
“Charlie has a Charlie-esque crush on me, Patrick.”
“He does, huh?”
“I’m trying not to,” I offered, which just made them laugh.
Patrick then asked Sam to leave, which she did, and he explained some things to me, so I would
know how to be around other girls and not waste my time thinking about Sam that way.
“Charlie, has anyone told you how it works?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, there are rules you follow here not because you want to, but because you have to. You get
it?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay. You take girls, for example. They’re copying their moms and magazines and everything to
know how to act around guys.”
I thought about the moms and the magazines and the everythings, and the thought made me
nervous, especially if it includes TV.
“I mean it’s not like in the movies where girls like assholes or anything like that. It’s not that easy.
They just like somebody that can give them a purpose.”
“A purpose?”
“Right. You know? Girls like guys to be a challenge. It gives them some mold to fit in how they act.
Like a mom. What would a mom do if she couldn’t fuss over you and make you clean your room? And
what would you do without her fussing and making you do it? Everyone needs a mom. And a mom
knows this. And it gives her a sense of purpose. You get it?”
“Yeah,” I said even though I didn’t. But I got it enough to say “Yeah” and not be lying, though.
“The thing is some girls think they can actually change guys. And what’s funny is that if they
actually did change them, they’d get bored. They’d have no challenge left. You just have to give girls
some time to think of a new way of doing things, that’s all. Some of them will figure it out here. Some
later. Some never. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”
But I guess I did worry about it. I’ve been worrying about it ever since he told me. I look at people
holding hands in the hallways, and I try to think about how it all works. At the school dances, I sit in
the background, and I tap my toe, and I wonder how many couples will dance to “their song.” In the
hallways, I see the girls wearing the guys’ jackets, and I think about the idea of property. And I
wonder if anyone is really happy. I hope they are. I really hope they are.
Bill looked at me looking at people, and after class, he asked me what I was thinking about, and I
told him. He listened, and he nodded and made “affirmation” sounds. When I had finished, his face
changed into a “serious talk” face.
“Do you always think this much, Charlie?”
“Is that bad?” I just wanted someone to tell me the truth.
“Not necessarily. It’s just that sometimes people use thought to not participate in life.”
“Is that bad?”
“Yes.”
“I think I participate, though. Don’t you think I am?”
“Well, are you dancing at these dances?”
“I’m not a very good dancer.”
“Are you going on dates?”
“Well, I don’t have a car, and even if I did, I can’t drive because I’m fifteen, and anyway, I haven’t
met a girl I like except for Sam, but I am too young for her, and she would always have to drive, which
I don’t think is fair.”
Bill smiled and continued asking me questions. Slowly, he got to “problems at home.” And I told
him about the boy who makes mix tapes hitting my sister because my sister only told me not to tell
mom or dad about it, so I figured I could tell Bill. He got this very serious look on his face after I told
him, and he said something to me I don’t think I will forget this semester or ever.
“Charlie, we accept the love we think we deserve.”
I just stood there, quiet. Bill patted my shoulder and gave me a new book to read. He told me
everything was going to be okay.
I usually walk home from school because it makes me feel like I’ve earned it. What I mean is that I
want to be able to tell my kids that I walked to school like my grandparents did in the “old days.” It’s
odd that I’m planning this considering I’ve never had a date, but I guess that makes sense. It usually
takes me an extra hour or so to walk as opposed to taking the bus, but it’s worth it when the weather is
nice and cool like it was today.
When I finally got home, my sister was sitting on a chair. My mom and my dad were standing in
front of her. And I knew that Bill had called home and told them. And I felt terrible. It was all my
fault.
My sister was crying. My mom was very very quiet. My dad did all the talking. He said that my
sister was not allowed to see the boy who hit her anymore, and he was going to have a talk with the
boy’s parents tonight. My sister then said that it was all her fault, that she was provoking him, but my
dad said it was no excuse.
“But I love him!” I had never seen my sister cry that much.
“No, you don’t.”
“I hate you!”
“No, you don’t.” My dad can be very calm sometimes.
“He’s my whole world.”
“Don’t ever say that about anyone again. Not even me.” That was my mom.
My mom chooses her battles carefully, and I can tell you one thing about my family. When my
mom does say something, she always gets her way. And this time was no exception. My sister stopped
crying immediately.
After that, my dad gave my sister a rare kiss on the forehead. Then, he left the house, got in his
Oldsmobile, and drove away. I thought he probably was going to talk to the boy’s parents. And I felt
very sorry for them. His parents, I mean. Because my dad doesn’t lose fights. He just doesn’t.
My mom then went into the kitchen to make my sister’s favorite thing to eat, and my sister looked
at me.
“I hate you.”
My sister said it different than she said it to my dad. She meant it with me. She really did.
“I love you,” was all I could say in return.
“You’re a freak, you know that? You’ve always been a freak. Everyone says so. They always have.”
“I’m trying not to be.”
Then, I turned around and walked to my room and closed my door and put my head under my pillow
and let the quiet put things where they are supposed to be.
By the way, I figure you are probably curious about my dad. Did he hit us when we were kids or
now even? I just thought you might be curious because Bill was, after I told him about that boy and
my sister. Well, if you are wondering, he didn’t. He never touched my brother or sister. And the only
time he ever slapped me was when I made my Aunt Helen cry. And once we all calmed down, he got
on his knees in front of me and said that his stepdad hit him a lot, and he decided in college when my
mom got pregnant with my older brother that he would never hit his kids. And he felt terrible for
doing it. And he was so sorry. And he would never hit me again. And he hasn’t.
He’s just stern sometimes.
Love always,
Charlie
October 15, 1991
Dear friend,
I guess I forgot to mention in my last letter that it was Patrick who told me about masturbation. I
guess I also forgot to tell you how often I do it now, which is a lot. I don’t like to look at pictures. I
just close my eyes and dream about a lady I do not know. And I try not to feel ashamed. I never think
about Sam when I do it. Never. That’s very important to me because I was so happy when she said
“Charlie-esque” since it felt like an inside joke of sorts.
One night, I felt so guilty that I promised God that I would never do it again. So, I started using
blankets, but then the blankets hurt, so I started using pillows, but then the pillows hurt, so I went back
to normal. I wasn’t raised very religiously because my parents went to Catholic school, but I do
believe in God very much. I just never gave God a name, if you know what I mean. I hope I haven’t let
Him down regardless.
Incidentally, my dad did have a serious talk with the boy’s parents. The boy’s mother was very very
angry and screamed at her son. The boy’s father kept quiet. And my dad didn’t get too personal with
them. He didn’t tell them they did a “lousy job” raising their son or anything.
As far as he was concerned, the only important thing was getting their help to keep their son away
from his daughter. Once that was settled, he left them to deal with their family and came home to deal
with his. At least that’s how he put it.
The one thing I did ask my dad was about the boy’s problems at home. Whether or not he thought
the parents hit their son. He told me to mind my own business. Because he didn’t know and would
never ask and didn’t think it mattered.
“Not everyone has a sob story, Charlie, and even if they do, it’s no excuse.”
That’s all he said. And then we went to watch television.
My sister is still mad at me, but my dad said I did the right thing. I hope that I did, but it’s hard to
tell sometimes.
Love always,
Charlie
October 28, 1991
Dear friend,
I’m sorry I haven’t written to you in a couple of weeks, but I have been trying to “participate” like
Bill said. It’s strange because sometimes, I read a book, and I think I am the people in the book. Also,
when I write letters, I spend the next two days thinking about what I figured out in my letters. I do not
know if this is good or bad. Nevertheless, I am trying to participate.
Incidentally, the book Bill gave me was Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie. I know what you’re thinking.
The cartoon Peter Pan with the lost boys. The actual book is so much better than that. It’s just about
this boy who refuses to grow up, and when Wendy grows up, he feels very betrayed. At least that’s
what I got out of it. I think Bill gave me the book to teach me a lesson of some kind.
The good news is that I read the book, and because of its fantasy nature, I could not pretend that I
was in the book. That way I could participate and still read.
In terms of my participation in things, I am trying to go to social events that they set up in my
school. It’s too late to join any clubs or anything like that, but I still try to go to the things that I can.
Things like the homecoming football game and dance, even if I don’t have a date.
I cannot imagine that I will ever come home for a homecoming game after I leave here, but it was
fun to pretend that I was. I found Patrick and Sam sitting in their normal spot in the bleachers, and I
started acting like I hadn’t seen them in a year even though I had seen them that afternoon in lunch
when I ate my orange, and they smoked cigarettes.
“Patrick, is that you? And Sam… it’s been so long. Who’s winning? God, college is such a trial. My
professor is making me read twenty-seven books this weekend, and my girlfriend needs me to paint
signs for her protest rally Tuesday. Let those administrators know we mean business. Dad is busy with
his golf swing, and Mom has her hands full with tennis. We must do this again. I would stay, but I
have to pick my sister up from her emotional workshop. She’s making real progress. Good to see ya.”
And then I walked away. I went down to the concession stand and bought three boxes of nachos and
a diet coke for Sam. When I returned, I sat down and gave Patrick and Sam the nachos and Sam her
diet coke. And Sam smiled. The great thing about Sam is that she doesn’t think I’m crazy for
pretending to do things. Patrick doesn’t either, but he was too busy watching the game and screaming
at Brad, the quarterback.
Sam told me during the game that they were going over to their friend’s house later for a party.
Then, she asked me if I wanted to go, and I said yes because I had never been to a party before. I had
seen one at my house, though.
My parents went to Ohio to see a very distant cousin get buried or married. I don’t remember
which. And they left my brother in charge of the house. He was sixteen at the time. My brother used
the opportunity to throw a big party with beer and everything. I was ordered to stay in my room, which
was okay because that’s where everyone kept their coats, and it was fun looking through the stuff in
their pockets. Every ten minutes or so, a drunk girl or boy would stumble in my room to see if they
could make out there or something. Then, they would see me and walk away. That is, except for this
one couple.
This one couple, whom I was told later were very popular and in love, stumbled into my room and
asked if I minded them using it. I told them that my brother and sister said I had to stay here, and they
asked if they could use the room anyway with me still in it. I said I didn’t see why not, so they closed
the door and started kissing. Kissing very hard. After a few minutes, the boy’s hand went up the girl’s
shirt, and she started protesting.
“C’mon, Dave.”
“What?”
“The kid’s in here.”
“It’s okay.”
And the boy kept working up the girl’s shirt, and as much as she said no, he kept working it. After a
few minutes, she stopped protesting, and he pulled her shirt off, and she had a white bra on with lace. I
honestly didn’t know what to do by this point. Pretty soon, he took off her bra and started to kiss her
breasts. And then he put his hand down her pants, and she started moaning. I think they were both very
drunk. He reached to take off her pants, but she started crying really hard, so he reached for his own.
He pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees.
“Please. Dave. No.”
But the boy just talked soft to her about how good she looked and things like that, and she grabbed
his penis with her hands and started moving it. I wish I could describe this a little more nicely without
using words like penis, but that was the way it was.
After a few minutes, the boy pushed the girl’s head down, and she started to kiss his penis. She was
still crying. Finally, she stopped crying because he put his penis in her mouth, and I don’t think you
can cry in that position. I had to stop watching at that point because I started to feel sick, but it kept
going on, and they kept doing other things, and she kept saying “no.” Even when I covered my ears, I
could still hear her say that.
My sister came in eventually to bring me a bowl of potato chips, and when she found the boy and
the girl, they stopped. My sister was very embarrassed, but not as embarrassed as the girl. The boy
looked kind of smug. He didn’t say much. After they left, my sister turned to me.
“Did they know you were in here?”
“Yes. They asked if they could use the room.”
“Why didn’t you stop them?”
“I didn’t know what they were doing.”
“You pervert,” was the last thing my sister said before she left the room, still carrying the bowl of
potato chips.
I told Sam and Patrick about this, and they both got very quiet. Sam said that she used to go out
with Dave for a while before she got into punk music, and Patrick said he heard about that party. I
wasn’t surprised that he did because it kind of became a legend. At least that’s what I’ve heard when I
tell some kids who my older brother is.
When the police came, they found my brother asleep on the roof. Nobody knows how he got there.
My sister was making out in the laundry room with some senior. She was a freshman at the time. A lot
of parents came to the house then to pick up their kids, and a lot of the girls were crying and throwing
up. Most of the boys had run away by this point. My brother got in big trouble, and my sister was
given a “serious talk” by my parents about bad influences. And that was that.
The boy named Dave is a senior now. He plays on the football team. He is a wide receiver. I
watched the end of the game when Dave caught a touchdown thrown from Brad. It ended up winning
the game for our school. And people went crazy in the stands because we won the game. But all I
could think about was that party. I thought about it quiet for a long time, then I looked over to Sam.
“He raped her, didn’t he?”
She just nodded. I couldn’t tell if she was sad or just knew more things than me.
“We should tell someone, shouldn’t we?”
Sam just shook her head this time. She then explained about all the things you have to go through to
prove it, especially in high school when the boy and girl are popular and still in love.
The next day at the homecoming dance, I saw them dancing together. Dave and his girl. And I got
really mad. It kind of scared me how mad I got. I thought about walking up to Dave and really hurting
him like maybe I should have really hurt Sean. And I think I would have, but Sam saw me and put her
arm around my shoulder like she does. She calmed me down, and I guess I’m glad she did because I
think I would have gotten even madder if I started hitting Dave, and his girl stopped me because she
loved him. I think I would have gotten even madder about that.
So, I decided to do the next best thing and let the air out of Dave’s tires. Sam knew which was his
car.
There is a feeling that I had Friday night after the homecoming game that I don’t know if I will ever
be able to describe except to say that it is warm. Sam and Patrick drove me to the party that night, and
I sat in the middle of Sam’s pickup truck. Sam loves her pickup truck because I think it reminds her of
her dad. The feeling I had happened when Sam told Patrick to find a station on the radio. And he kept
getting commercials. And commercials. And a really bad song about love that had the word “baby” in
it. And then more commercials. And finally he found this really amazing song about this boy, and we
all got quiet.
Sam tapped her hand on the steering wheel. Patrick held his hand outside the car and made air
waves. And I just sat between them. After the song finished, I said something.
“I feel infinite.”
And Sam and Patrick looked at me like I said the greatest thing they ever heard. Because the song
was that great and because we all really paid attention to it. Five minutes of a lifetime were truly
spent, and we felt young in a good way. I have since bought the record, and I would tell you what it
was, but truthfully, it’s not the same unless you’re driving to your first real party, and you’re sitting in
the middle seat of a pickup with two nice people when it starts to rain.
We got to the house where the party was, and Patrick did this secret knock. It would be hard to
describe to you this knock without sound. The door opened a crack, and this guy with frizzy hair
looked out at us.
“Patrick known as Patty known as Nothing?”
“Bob.”
The door opened, and the old friends hugged each other. Then, Sam and Bob hugged each other.
Then, Sam spoke.
“This is our friend, Charlie.”
And you won’t believe it. Bob hugged me! Sam told me as we were hanging up our coats that Bob
was “baked like a fucking cake.” I really had to quote that one even though it has a swear.
The party was in the basement of this house. The room was quite smoky, and the kids were much
older. There were two girls showing each other their tattoos and belly button rings. Seniors, I think.
This guy named Fritz something was eating a lot of Twinkies. Fritz’s girlfriend was talking to him
about women’s rights, and he kept saying, “I know, baby.”
Sam and Patrick started smoking cigarettes. Bob went up to the kitchen when he heard the bell ring.
When he came back, he brought a can of Milwaukee’s Best beer for everyone, as well as two new
party guests. There was Maggie, who needed to use the bathroom. And there was Brad, the quarterback
of the high school football team. No kidding!
I do not know why this excited me, but I guess when you see somebody in the hallway or on the
field or something, it’s nice to know that they are a real person.
Everyone was very friendly to me and asked me a lot of questions about myself. I guess because I
was the youngest, and they didn’t want me to feel out of place, especially after I said no to having a
beer. I once had a beer with my brother when I was twelve, and I just didn’t like it. It’s really that
simple for me.
Some of the questions I was asked was what grade I was in and what did I want to be when I grow
up.
“I am a freshman, and I don’t know just yet.”
I looked around, and I saw that Sam and Patrick had left with Brad. That’s when Bob started passing
around food.
“Would you like a brownie?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
I was actually quite hungry because normally Sam and Patrick take me to the Big Boy after the
football games, and I guess I was used to it by now. I ate the brownie, and it tasted a little weird, but it
was still a brownie, so I still liked it. But this was not an ordinary brownie. Since you are older, I think
you know what kind of brownie it was.
After thirty minutes, the room started to slip away from me. I was talking to one of the girls with
the belly button ring, and she seemed like she was in a movie. I started blinking a lot and looking
around, and the music sounded heavy like water.
Sam came down and when she saw me, she turned to Bob.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“Come on, Sam. He likes it. Ask him.”
“How do you feel, Charlie?”
“Light.”
“You see?” Bob actually looked a little nervous, which I was later told was paranoia.
Sam sat down next to me and held my hand, which felt cool.
“Are you seeing anything, Charlie?”
“Light.”
“Does it feel good?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you thirsty?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What would you like to drink?”
“A milkshake.”
And everyone in the room, except Sam, erupted in laughter.
“He’s stoned.”
“Are you hungry, Charlie?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What would you like to eat?”
“A milkshake.”
I don’t think they would have laughed any harder even if what I said was at all funny. Then, Sam
took my hand and stood me up on the dizzy floor.
“C’mon. We’ll get you a milkshake.”
As we were leaving, Sam turned to Bob.
“I still think you’re an asshole.”
All Bob did was laugh. And Sam finally laughed, too. And I was glad that everyone seemed as
happy as they seemed.
Sam and I got up to the kitchen, and she turned on the light. Wow! It was so bright, I couldn’t
believe it. It was like when you see a movie in the theater during the day, and when you leave the
movie, you can’t believe that it’s still daylight outside. Sam got some ice cream and some milk and a
blender. I asked her where the bathroom was, and she pointed around the corner almost like it was her
house. I think she and Patrick spent a lot of time here when Bob was still in high school.
When I got out of the bathroom, I heard a noise in the room where we left our coats. I opened the
door, and I saw Patrick kissing Brad. It was a stolen type of kissing. They heard me in the door and
turned around. Patrick spoke first.
“Is that you, Charlie?”
“Sam’s making me a milkshake.”
“Who is this kid?” Brad just looked real nervous and not in the Bob way.
“He’s a friend of mine. Relax.”
Patrick then took me out of the room and closed the door. He put his hands on both of my shoulders
and looked me straight in the eye.
“Brad doesn’t want people to know.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s scared.”
“Why?”
“Because he is… wait… are you stoned?”
“They said I was downstairs. Sam is making me a milkshake.”
Patrick tried to keep from laughing.
“Listen, Charlie. Brad doesn’t want people to know. I need you to promise that you won’t tell
anyone. This will be our little secret. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Thanks.”
With that, Patrick turned around and went back into the room. I heard some muffled voices, and
Brad seemed upset, but I didn’t think it was any of my business, so I went back to the kitchen.
I have to say that it was the best milkshake I ever had in my life. It was so delicious, it almost
scared me.
Before we left the party, Sam played me a few of her favorite songs. One was called “Blackbird.”
The other was called “MLK.” They were both very beautiful. I mentioned the titles because they were
as great when I listened to them sober.
Another interesting thing happened at the party before we left. Patrick came downstairs. I guess
Brad had left. And Patrick smiled. And Bob started to make fun of him having a crush on the
quarterback. And Patrick smiled more. I don’t think I ever saw Patrick smile so much. Then, Patrick
pointed at me, and said something to Bob.
“He’s something, isn’t he?”
Bob nodded his head. Patrick then said something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.
“He’s a wallflower.”
And Bob really nodded his head. And the whole room nodded their head. And I started to feel
nervous in the Bob way, but Patrick didn’t let me get too nervous. He sat down next to me.
“You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.”
I didn’t know that other people thought things about me. I didn’t know that they looked. I was
sitting on the floor of a basement of my first real party between Sam and Patrick, and I remembered
that Sam introduced me as her friend to Bob. And I remembered that Patrick had done the same for
Brad. And I started to cry. And nobody in that room looked at me weird for doing it. And then I really
started to cry.
Bob raised his drink and asked everyone to do the same.
“To Charlie.”
And the whole group said, “To Charlie.”
I didn’t know why they did that, but it was very special to me that they did. Especially Sam.
Especially her.
I would tell you more about the homecoming dance, but now that I’m thinking about it, me letting
out the air of Dave’s tires was the best part. I did try to dance like Bill suggested, but I usually like
songs you can’t dance to, so I didn’t do it too much. Sam did look very pretty in her dress, but I was
trying not to notice because I’m trying not to think of her that way.
I did notice that Brad and Patrick never talked once during the whole dance because Brad was off
dancing with a cheerleader named Nancy, who is his girlfriend. And I did notice that my sister was
dancing with the boy she wasn’t supposed to even though a different boy picked her up at the house.
After the dance, we left in Sam’s pickup. Patrick was driving this time. As we were approaching the
Fort Pitt Tunnel, Sam asked Patrick to pull to the side of the road. I didn’t know what was going on.
Sam then climbed in the back of the pickup, wearing nothing but her dance dress. She told Patrick to
drive, and he got this smile on his face. I guess they had done this before.
Anyway, Patrick started driving really fast, and just before we got to the tunnel, Sam stood up, and
the wind turned her dress into ocean waves. When we hit the tunnel, all the sound got scooped up into
a vacuum, and it was replaced by a song on the tape player. A beautiful song called “Landslide.” When
we got out of the tunnel, Sam screamed this really fun scream, and there it was. Downtown. Lights on
buildings and everything that makes you wonder. Sam sat down and started laughing. Patrick started
laughing. I started laughing.
And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.
Love always,
Charlie
part 2
November 7, 1991
Dear friend,
It was one of those days that I didn’t mind going to school because the weather was so pretty. The
sky was overcast with clouds, and the air felt like a warm bath. I don’t think I ever felt that clean
before. When I got home, I had to mow the lawn for my allowance, and I didn’t mind one bit. I just
listened to the music, and breathed in the day, and remembered things. Things like walking around the
neighborhood and looking at the houses and the lawns and the colorful trees and having that be
enough.
I do not know anything about Zen or things that the Chinese or Indians do as part of their religion,
but one of the girls from the party with the tattoo and belly button ring has been a Buddhist since July.
She talks about very little else except maybe how expensive cigarettes are. I see her at lunch
sometimes, smoking between Patrick and Sam. Her name is Mary Elizabeth.
Mary Elizabeth told me that the thing about Zen is that it makes you connected to everything in the
world. You are part of the trees and the grass and the dogs. Things like that. She even explained how
her tattoo symbolized this, but I can’t remember how. So, I guess Zen is a day like this when you are
part of the air and remember things.
One thing I remember is that the kids used to play a game. What you would do is take a football or
something, and one person would have it, and all the other kids would try to tackle that kid. And then
whoever got the ball next would run around with it, and the kids would try to tackle him. This could go
on for hours. I never really understood the point of this game, but my brother loved it. He didn’t like
to run with the ball so much as he liked to tackle people. The kids called the game “smear the queer.” I
didn’t really think about what that means until now.
Patrick told me the story about him and Brad, and now I understand why Patrick didn’t get angry at
Brad at the homecoming dance for dancing with a girl. When they were both juniors, Patrick and Brad
were at a party together with the rest of the popular kids. Patrick actually used to be popular before
Sam bought him some good music.
Patrick and Brad both got pretty drunk at this party. Actually, Patrick said that Brad was pretending
to be a lot drunker than he really was. They were sitting in the basement with some girl named
Heather, and when she left to go to the bathroom, Brad and Patrick were left alone. Patrick said it was
uncomfortable and exciting for both of them.
“You’re in Mr. Brosnahan’s class, right?”
“Have you ever gone to a Pink Floyd Laser Light Show?”
“Beer before liquor. Never sicker.”
When they ran out of small talk, they just looked at each other. And they ended up fooling around
right there in the basement. Patrick said it was like the weight of the whole world left both their
shoulders.
But Monday in school, Brad kept saying the same thing.
“Man, I was so wasted. I don’t remember a thing.”
He said it to everyone who was at the party. He said it a few times to the same people. He even said
it to Patrick. Nobody saw Patrick and Brad fool around, but Brad kept saying it anyway. That Friday,
there was another party. And this time, Patrick and Brad got stoned although Patrick said that Brad
was pretending to be a lot more stoned than he really was. And they ended up fooling around again.
And Monday in school, Brad did the same thing.
“Man, I was so wasted. I don’t remember a thing.”
This went on for seven months.
It got to a point where Brad was getting stoned or drunk before school. It’s not like he and Patrick
were fooling around in school. They only fooled around at parties on Fridays, but Patrick said Brad
couldn’t even look at him in the hall, let alone speak with him. And it was hard, too, because Patrick
really liked Brad.
When summer came, Brad didn’t have to worry about school or anything, so his drinking and
smoking got a lot worse. There was a big party at Patrick and Sam’s house with the less than popular
crowd. Brad showed up, which caused quite a stir because he was popular, but Patrick kept a secret as
to why Brad came to the party. When most people left, Brad and Patrick went into Patrick’s room.
They had sex for the first time that night.
I don’t want to go into detail about it because it’s pretty private stuff, but I will say that Brad
assumed the role of the girl in terms of where you put things. I think that’s pretty important to tell
you. When they were finished, Brad started to cry really hard. He had been drinking a lot. And getting
really really stoned.
No matter what Patrick did, Brad kept crying. Brad wouldn’t even let Patrick hold him, which
seems rather sad to me because if I have sex with someone, I would want to hold them.
Finally, Patrick just pulled up Brad’s pants, and said to him.
“Just pretend you’re passed out.”
Then, Patrick got dressed and walked around the house to go into the party from a different
direction than his bedroom. He was also crying pretty bad, and he decided if anyone asked him, he
would say his eyes were red from smoking pot. Finally, he shook himself out of it and walked into the
main party room. He acted really drunk. He went to Sam. “Have you seen Brad?” Sam saw the look in
Patrick’s eyes. Then, she spoke up to the party.
“Hey, has anyone seen Brad?”
Nobody at the party had, so a few people went to search for him. They finally found him in
Patrick’s room… asleep.
Finally, Patrick called Brad’s parents because he was really worried about him. He didn’t tell them
why, but he said that Brad was really sick at this party and needed to be taken home. Brad’s parents
did come, and Brad’s father, along with some of the other boys including Patrick, carried Brad to the
car.
Patrick doesn’t know if Brad was really asleep or not at that point, but if he wasn’t, it was a good
acting job. Brad’s parents sent him to rehabilitation because Brad’s father didn’t want him to miss his
chance at a football scholarship. Patrick didn’t see Brad for the rest of the summer.
Brad’s parents never did figure out why their son was getting stoned and drunk all the time. Neither
did anybody else. Except the people who knew.
When the school year started, Brad avoided Patrick a lot. He never went to the same parties as
Patrick or anything until a little over a month ago. That was the night he threw rocks at Patrick’s
window and told Patrick that nobody could know, and Patrick understood. They only see each other
now at night on golf courses and at parties like Bob’s where the people are quiet and understand these
things.
I asked Patrick if he felt sad that he had to keep it a secret, and Patrick just said that he wasn’t sad
because at least now, Brad doesn’t have to get drunk or stoned to make love.
Love always,
Charlie
November 8, 1991
Dear friend,
Bill gave me my first Bin advanced English class for my paper on Peter Pan! To tell you the truth, I
don’t know what I did differently from the other papers. He told me that my sense of language is
improving along with my sentence structure. I think it’s great that I could be improving on these
things without noticing. By the way, Bill gives me A’s on my report cards and letters to my parents.
The grades on these papers are just between us.
I have decided that maybe I want to write when I grow up. I just don’t know what I would write.
I thought about maybe writing for magazines just so I could see an article that didn’t say things like
I mentioned before. “As ______________ wiped the honey mustard off of her lips, she spoke to me
about her third husband and the healing power of crystals.” But honestly, I think I would be a very bad
reporter because I can’t imagine sitting across the table from a politician or a movie star and asking
them questions. I think I would probably just ask for their autograph for my mom or something. I
would probably get fired for doing this. So, I thought about maybe writing for a newspaper instead
because I could ask regular people questions, but my sister says that newspapers always lie. I do not
know if this is true, so I’ll just have to see when I get older.
I did start working for a fanzine called Punk Rocky. It’s this xerox magazine about punk rock and
The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I don’t write for it, but I help out.
Mary Elizabeth is in charge of it, just like she is in charge of the local Rocky Horror Picture Show
showings. Mary Elizabeth is a very interesting person because she has a tattoo that symbolizes
Buddhism and a belly button ring and wears her hair to make somebody mad, but when she’s in charge
of something, she acts like my dad when he comes home from a “long day.” She is a senior, and she
says that my sister is a tease and a snob. I told her not to say anything like that about my sister again.
Of all the things I’ve done this year so far, I think I like The Rocky Horror Picture Show the best.
Patrick and Sam took me to the theater to see it on Halloween night. It’s really fun because all these
kids dress up like the people in the movie, and they act out the movie in front of the screen. Also,
people shout at the movie on cue. I guess you probably know this already, but I thought I’d say it
anyway in case you didn’t.
Patrick plays “Frank ’N Furter.” Sam plays “Janet.” It is very hard to watch the movie because Sam
walks around in her underwear when she plays Janet. I am really trying not to think of her that way,
which is becoming increasingly difficult.
To tell you the truth, I love Sam. It’s not a movie kind of love either. I just look at her sometimes,
and I think she is the prettiest and nicest person in the whole world. She is also very smart and fun. I
wrote her a poem after I saw her in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, but I didn’t show it to her because
I was embarrassed. I would write it out for you, but I think that would be disrespectful to Sam.
The thing is that Sam is now going out with a boy named Craig.
Craig is older than my brother. I think he may even be twenty-one because he drinks red wine. Craig
plays “Rocky” in the show. Patrick says that Craig is “cut and hunky.” I do not know where Patrick
finds his expressions.
But I guess that he’s right, Craig is cut and hunky. He is also a very creative person. He’s putting
himself through the Art Institute here by being a male model for JCPenney catalogs and things like
that. He likes to take photographs, and I’ve seen a few of them, and they are very good. There is this
one photograph of Sam that is just beautiful. It would be impossible to describe how beautiful it is, but
I’ll try.
If you listen to the song “Asleep,” and you think about those pretty weather days that make you
remember things, and you think about the prettiest eyes you’ve known, and you cry, and the person
holds you back, then I think you will see the photograph.
I want Sam to stop liking Craig.
Now, I guess maybe you think that’s because I am jealous of him. I’m not. Honest. It’s just that
Craig doesn’t really listen to her when she talks. I don’t mean that he’s a bad guy because he’s not.
It’s just that he always looks distracted.
It’s like he would take a photograph of Sam, and the photograph would be beautiful. And he would
think that the reason the photograph was beautiful was because of how he took it. If I took it, I would
know that the only reason it’s beautiful is because of Sam.
I just think it’s bad when a boy looks at a girl and thinks that the way he sees the girl is better than
the girl actually is. And I think it’s bad when the most honest way a boy can look at a girl is through a
camera. It’s very hard for me to see Sam feel better about herself just because an older boy sees her
that way.
I asked my sister about this, and she said that Sam has low self-esteem. My sister also said that Sam
had a reputation when she was a sophomore. According to my sister, Sam used to be a “blow queen.” I
hope you know what that means because I really can’t think about Sam and describe it to you.
I am really in love with Sam, and it hurts very much.
I did ask my sister about the boy at the dance. She wouldn’t talk about it until I promised that I
wouldn’t tell anybody, not even Bill. So, I promised. She said that she has been seeing this boy
secretly since Dad said she couldn’t. She says she thinks about him when he’s not there. She says
they’re going to get married after they both finish college, and he finishes law school.
She told me not to worry because he hasn’t hit her since that night. And she said not to worry
because he won’t hit her again. She really didn’t say any more other than that, although she kept
talking.
It was nice sitting with my sister that night because she almost never likes to talk to me. I was
surprised that she told me as much as she did, but I guess that since she’s keeping things secret, she
can’t tell anybody. And I guess she was just dying to tell somebody.
But as much as she told me not to, I do worry a lot about her. She is my sister, after all.
Love always,
Charlie
November 12, 1991
Dear friend,
I love Twinkies, and the reason I am saying that is because we are all supposed to think of reasons
to live. In science class, Mr. Z. told us about an experiment where they got this rat or mouse, and they
put this rat or mouse on one side of a cage. On the other side of the cage, they put a little piece of
food. And this rat or mouse would walk over to the food and eat. Then, they put the rat or mouse back
on its original side, and this time, they put electricity all through the floor where the rat or mouse
would have to walk to get the piece of food. They did this for a while, and the rat or mouse stopped
going to get the food at a certain amount of voltage. Then, they repeated the experiment, but they
replaced the food with something that gave the rat or mouse intense pleasure. I don’t know what it was
that gave them intense pleasure, but I am guessing it is some kind of rat or mouse nip. Anyway, what
the scientists found out was that the rat or mouse would put up with a lot more voltage for the
pleasure. Even more than for the food.
I don’t know the significance of this, but I find it very interesting.
Love always,
Charlie
November 15, 1991
Dear friend,
It’s starting to get cold and frosty here. The pretty fall weather is pretty much gone. The good news
is that we have holidays coming up, which I love especially now because my brother will be coming
home soon. Maybe even for Thanksgiving! At least I hope he does for my mom.
My brother hasn’t called home in a few weeks now, and Mom just keeps talking about his grades
and sleeping habits and the foods he eats, and my dad keeps saying the same thing.
“He’s not going to get injured.”
Personally, I like to think my brother is having a college experience like they do in the movies. I
don’t mean the big fraternity party kind of movie. More like the movie where the guy meets a smart
girl who wears a lot of sweaters and drinks cocoa. They talk about books and issues and kiss in the
rain. I think something like that would be very good for him, especially if the girl were
unconventionally beautiful. They are the best kind of girls, I think. I personally find “super models”
strange. I don’t know why this is.
My brother, on the other hand, has posters of “super models” and cars and beer and things like that
on the walls in his room. I suppose if you add a dirty floor, it’s probably what his dorm room looks
like. My brother always hated making his bed, but he kept his clothes closet very organized. Go figure.
The thing is, when my brother does call home, he doesn’t say a lot. He talks about his classes a little
bit, but mostly he talks about the football team. There is a lot of attention on the team because they are
very good, and they have some really big players. My brother said that one of the guys will probably
be a millionaire someday, but that he is “dumb as a post.” I guess that’s pretty dumb.
My brother told this one story where the whole team was sitting around the locker room, talking
about all the stuff they had to do to get into college football. They finally got around to talking about
SAT scores, which I have never taken.
And this guy said, “I got a 710.”
And my brother said, “Math or verbal?”
And the guy said, “Huh?”
And the whole team laughed.
I always wanted to be on a sports team like that. I’m not exactly sure why, but I always thought it
would be fun to have “glory days.” Then, I would have stories to tell my children and golf buddies. I
guess I could tell people about Punk Rocky and walking home from school and things like that. Maybe
these are my glory days, and I’m not even realizing it because they don’t involve a ball.
I used to play sports when I was little, and I was actually very good, but the problem was that it
used to make me too aggressive, so the doctors told my mom I would have to stop.
My dad had glory days once. I’ve seen pictures of him when he was young. He was a very handsome
man. I don’t know any other way to put it. He looked like all old pictures look. Old pictures look very
rugged and young, and the people in the photographs always seem a lot happier than you are.
My mother looks beautiful in old pictures. She actually looks more beautiful than anyone except
maybe Sam. Sometimes, I look at my parents now and wonder what happened to make them the way
they are. And then I wonder what will happen to my sister when her boyfriend graduates from law
school. And what my brother’s face will look like on a football card, or what it will look like if it is
never on a football card. My dad played college baseball for two years, but he had to stop when Mom
got pregnant with my brother. That’s when he started working at the office. I honestly don’t know
what my dad does.
He tells a story sometimes. It is a great story. It has to do with the state championship for baseball
when he was in high school. It was the bottom of the ninth inning, and there was a runner on first.
There were two outs, and my dad’s team was behind by one run. My dad was younger than most of the
varsity team because he was only a sophomore, and I think the team thought he was going to blow the
game. He had all this pressure on him. He was really nervous. And really scared. But after a few
pitches, he said he started feeling “in the zone.” When the pitcher wound up and threw the next ball,
he knew exactly where that ball was going to be. He hit it harder than any other ball he ever hit in his
whole life. And he made a home run, and his team won the state championship. The greatest thing
about this story is that every time my dad tells it, it never changes. He’s not one to exaggerate.
I think about all this sometimes when I’m watching a football game with Patrick and Sam. I look at
the field, and I think about the boy who just made the touchdown. I think that these are the glory days
for that boy, and this moment will just be another story someday because all the people who make
touchdowns and home runs will become somebody’s dad. And when his children look at his yearbook
photograph, they will think that their dad was rugged and handsome and looked a lot happier than they
are.
I just hope I remember to tell my kids that they are as happy as I look in my old photographs. And I
hope that they believe me.
Love always,
Charlie
November 18, 1991
Dear friend,
My brother finally called yesterday, and he can’t make it home for any part of Thanksgiving
weekend because he is behind on school because of football. My mom was so upset that she took me
shopping for new clothes.
I know you think what I’m about to write is an exaggeration, but I promise you that it isn’t. From
the time we got into the car to the time we came home, my mom literally did not stop talking. Not
once. Not even when I was in the dressing room trying on “slacks.”
She just stood outside the dressing room and worried out loud. The things she said went all over the
place. First, it was that my dad should’ve insisted that my brother come home if only for an afternoon.
Then, it was that my sister had better start thinking more about her future and start applying to
“safety” schools in case the good ones don’t work out. And then she started saying that gray was a
good color for me.
I understand how my mom thinks. I really do.
It’s like when we were little, and we would go to the grocery store. My sister and brother would
fight about things that my sister and brother would fight about, and I would sit at the bottom of the
shopping cart. And my mom would be so upset by the end of shopping that she would push the cart
fast, and I would feel like I was in a submarine.
Yesterday was like that except now I got to sit in the front seat.
When I saw Sam and Patrick at school today, they both agreed that my mom has very good taste in
clothing. I told my mom this when I got home from school, and she smiled. She asked me if I wanted
to invite Sam and Patrick over for dinner sometime after the holidays are over because my mom gets
nervous enough as it is during the holidays. I called Sam and Patrick, and they said they would.
I’m really excited!
The last time I had a friend over to dinne…