Dave Eggers - Your Fathers, Where Are They? And the Prophets, Do They Live Forever?

— The truth about what?

— Yes! You are brilliant! You know how to turn it back to me, to make sure you don’t say anything too broad. You don’t want to say, for example, that you didn’t mean to touch that one kid in the bathroom, because maybe I don’t know about that one kid in the bathroom. This is fun, Mr. Hansen! You’re more fun than the others. I have to draw this out. I have to make sure I don’t rush it. Okay, let’s see. Do you remember the late eighties, Mr. Hansen?

— Yes, I remember the late eighties.

— Watch the attitude, Mr. Hansen. You’re tied to a post. You’re ten miles from the nearest highway. I could bludgeon you and you’d never be found. You know this?

— Yes.

— And you’re really the first one in this whole process I would actually hurt. I’m guessing you can tell I don’t have much to lose, right?

— Yes. I can sense that.

—“I can sense that.” That is great. Yes. I’m risking a lot here. Having you and the astronaut and everyone out here. But Jesus, so far, it’s been so worth it. I’ve learned so much. It’s like all the pieces are coming together. The one thing I’m kicking myself about is that I didn’t do this sooner. You should have been brought here sooner. Twenty years ago. You don’t belong with people just like I don’t belong with people.

— I trust you have someone you’re seeing? A professional?

— Don’t talk to me that way. You know I’m making sense. I’ve done an unusual thing here, but I’m not irrational. You know that. Your undergraduate degree was in psychology. But I guess that never means anything.

— No. Not in my case.

— Isn’t that funny, the undergrads who major in psychology? It’s like half of every college, these psych majors. They have no idea why they’re studying psychology. It’s like majoring in faces, or people. “I’m majoring in multiple-choice questions about people.”

— Right.

— See, still with the attitude. You have a smarmy way about you, you know that?

—

— Were you always that way? I can’t remember.

— I don’t know.

— You should be making yourself more appealing, not less, don’t you think?

— I suppose so.

— But even your phrasing is smarmy. “I suppose so.” Who talks like that?

— I can’t help the way I talk.

— Of course you can. Now stop being so smarmy.

— I will try.

— Now that: “I will try.” You really should just say “I’ll try.” Use contractions. Contractions will make you sound more like a regular human being.

— Okay.

— Are you one of those assholes who says either with the long i ?

— No.

— That wasn’t convincing. I bet you are. You know who says either with the long i ? Assholes.

— Sir, I want to do whatever I can to help you. Why did you bring me here?

— But how can I be surprised that you’re an asshole? I brought you here because you’re an asshole.

— So you were one of the complainants?

— No.

— But you were in my class?

— Yes. Remember me?

— I might if you give me your name.

— No, asshole. But I remember you being the fun teacher. Was that your goal, to seem like the cool one, the fun one?

— I don’t know.

— You dressed like us. Or tried to dress young at least. I remember you wearing Jordache jeans. Do you remember wearing Jordache jeans?

— I don’t know.

— You wear Jordache jeans and don’t remember? That’s not something you forget. That’s a full commitment. They were made for women, so when a man wore them, it was all-out. There was no halfway to those pants. That’s a major life decision you wouldn’t forget. Now tell me if you wore Jordache jeans.

— I believe I did.

— See, where does a worm like you come from? First you wear Jordache jeans. Then you deny it. Then, when you admit it, you say, “I believe I did.”

— Sir, what does this have to do with anything?

— It has everything to do with everything. You were trying to insinuate yourself. You were trying to garner our trust. You were trying to seem like us, our age, harmless, cool.

— I don’t know about that.

— Then you could get the babysitting jobs.

—

— Right?

—

— Do you remember babysitting for Don Banh?

— Yes.

— Good. That was good. A straight answer. You did overnights.

— Yes.

— When their parents were gone for a week or whatever, you would stay with the kids, feed everyone, tuck everyone in at night, sleep over. You remember?

— Yes.

— What were the Banh kids’ names?

— Don, John, Christina, Angelica.

— So you remember them.

— Of course I do.

— Funny how selective your memory is.

—

— Do you remember me coming over while you babysat?

— No.

— You liked to wrestle. I remember coming over one night and walking into the basement and you were there wrestling with Don and John. You were all sweating.

—

— So why the wrestling, Mr. Hansen?

— Were we clothed?

— What?

— Were we clothed?

— Yes. You were. So what?

— I just want to stick to what happened and what you saw. If we’re going to do this, I want to stick with facts, and not conjecture and insinuation.

— I can’t believe this. You’re on the offensive.

— I’m trying to keep us factual.

— Good. Good, motherfucker. I want to be factual, too. Good.

— So let me ask you a question.

— You’re going to ask me a question?

— May I?

— May you? Mother may you? Fuck yeah, go ahead.

— Did your father ever wrestle with you?

— You weren’t their father.

— But did your father wrestle with you?

— Yes. Probably. I didn’t see him much after I was six.

— And where was the Banhs’ father?

— I don’t know.

— He was gone. I was the primary male presence in their lives.

— So you thought, These poor fatherless boys need a grown-up man to take them into the basement for some sweaty wrestling.

— I did everything a parent would do. When they were in my care, I fed them, got them ready for school, made sure they brushed their teeth. And we played any number of games, including just horsing around.

— You know what? You shouldn’t say that. Horsing around implies things you don’t want to imply. You sound guilty with words like that.

— Thomas, what is it that you think I did?

— Wait. Now you know my name?

— I’ve been scanning my mind, and I found you.

— Oh shit. You are terrifying. The way you said that. “I found you.” Do you know how you sound? I don’t want you using my name.

— That’s fine. But again, what do you think I did?

— The same thing all the complainants said you did.

— Did you ever read the complaints, Thomas?

— I told you not to use my name.

— I’m sorry. Did you read the complaints?

— I read about them.

— What do you think they said?

— That you diddled kids. That you’re a molester.

— Do you really think the complaints said that?

— Yes.

— And if the complaints said that, they would just let me walk away? No charges? No prison?

— It was a different time.

— It might have been a different time, but if I’d been accused of molestation, they would not have allowed me to just retire and live in the next town over.

— So why did you quit teaching?

— I had to quit. The insinuations were distracting to everyone.

— So you quit on your own volition? To save everyone from distraction?

— That’s correct.