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

— Yes.

— You’re right. It’s unacceptably complex. And so wait — was I one of these kids, too? With the parents who were absent and had blind spots?

— I don’t know.

— But you do. Don’t worry about offending my mom.

— I don’t remember your mom, but I assume that at the time, I had a sense that your home was not as strong as others.

— So I was a target. Did you make a list or something?

— A list?

— Of targets. Kids you had identified as potential sleepover participants.

— Yes.

— Yes? You said yes?

— Because this was so long ago, and because I want to be completely candid with you, and because this was part of a life I abandoned and for which I have only shame, I will continue to be honest with you. I had a list every year of the new sixth graders who I designated as potential guests at my house.

— Based on just the parental situation?

— That, and height, hair, looks.

— What kind of looks?

— Any boys who were too tall or developed weren’t part of the list. I liked long hair. There were parameters physically, and then I cross-referenced that with the parental factors.

— And this ended up being a list of how many every year?

— Maybe eight, ten kids.

— And these you would invite over.

— Yes.

— And of them how many would come over?

— Maybe three, four.

— And that was enough?

— Yes. And from the three or four, I might get closer with one.

— One like Don.

— Right.

— And when did you start babysitting for them?

— A few months later. Don’s mom was going back to Vietnam to visit her family, and she asked me to stay with the kids.

— Lucky you.

— Yes.

— And I was on your list, too.

— I assume so.

— But somehow I didn’t get to the next level.

— Well, presumably your parents …

— It was just my mom.

— Either your mom sensed something weird about the sleepovers or you did. You said you came over just once?

— Yes.

— That usually meant that there was a sense from someone that it was not right.

— Were you ever scolded? Any dad who would have found out about this would have murdered you.

— No, not always. Some dads cooperated fully.

— God.

— But yes, it was easier when there were no dads in the picture.

— But so someone would question the sleepovers, and that kid would be removed from the rotation?

— Yes. Maybe in your case your mom …

— Not my mom. She was completely out of it.

— Well, then maybe it was you.

— I don’t know. I wish I could remember.

— See? The fact that you can’t remember proves that the harm to you was minimal.

— You’re in no position to make assumptions like that.

—

— So you think there was something wrong with my mom?

— Excuse me?

— You targeted me because of my mom?

— I have no idea. I’m only saying that typically there was something missing at home that allowed me some degree of access.

— Okay. Okay.

— I’ve told you all I can.

— Your candor was helpful to your situation here.

— So you’ll free me now?

— No.

— Do you know who I have next door?

— Where am I?

— You’re in a military barracks. Do you know who I have next door? You’ll never guess.

— Oh God.

— Shh. Guess.

— Thomas, what have you done to me?

— You’re locked to the post there, but it’s okay. It’s just to keep you safe.

— Oh Jesus lord Christ. Thomas, you have lost your mind.

— You know what’s so funny? I didn’t even need the chloroform with you. You never woke up. What the hell are you on? It couldn’t be just Paxil and wine. You must be mixing it with something else.

— Thomas, don’t do what I think you’re going to do.

— What do you think I’m going to do?

— I won’t say.

— You think I’m planning to kill you or something?

— I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m here. How did you get me here?

— You don’t remember?

— I don’t know if I do.

— Of course you don’t. You were passed out when I got to the house. It was the easiest thing. I put you in the van and then on the cart and that was that.

— Oh God.

— Stop. Don’t moan like that.

— Oh God oh God.

— Enough of that. Please.

— I can’t believe this.

— Believe it and let’s get started.

— Thomas, why would you do this?

— I know it seems extreme. I’m sorry. I really am.

— Jesus Christ.

— But you know I’m a principled person.

— Oh God.

— And this is the best way to get some things resolved.

— Oh Thomas. Please.

— Stop that. Don’t blubber.

— I’m chained here like a dog!

— I’ve chained everyone the same way.

— Thomas, this is how you treat your mother? Seriously, how did you get me here?

— I’m capable of lots of things you wouldn’t even know.

— Like kidnapping.

— Mom, I can do extraordinary things. I brought an astronaut here. He’s still here. I did that myself. You’re the fourth person I’ve brought. You know Mac Dickinson, the congressman? He’s here, too.

— Oh no. No.

— See, you can never give me any credit.

— Thomas, you’ve really lost it. They’ll catch you and put you in prison for life. Is this why you were at the house? I heard you skulking around and figured you were just taking something from the garage. I saw your car.

— Then what? You passed out? That is the best. That sums it up.

— Thomas, why did you do this?

— I had to. There was a vise around my head and now it’s easing.

— I blame myself.

— For once you do.

— What does that mean?

— It’s just amazing to hear you accept blame for anything.

— Like what?

— Like what? Like what? There you go. You’re back to denying the calamity all around. How do you do it?

— Ow. Damn it, Thomas.

— You shouldn’t pull on that.

— Thomas, see what this is doing?

— Then don’t move. It makes the shackle feel tighter. The whole setup works best if you just sit in one place. Especially at your age.

— Look at my ankle! It’s already purple.

— It’s not purple.

— Thomas, it would work best if you just unlocked this whole thing and we could really just sit and talk.

— Guess who I have next door.

— No, I won’t. I don’t want to know. An astronaut. A congressman. You told me.

— Yes, I have those guys. But guess who else?

— I don’t know, Thomas. The idea of you kidnapping all these people makes me want to vomit. I can’t believe my son would do this.

— You act like you had nothing to do with it.

— You’re saying there was something in my raising of you that would make you into a kidnapper? That is absurd.

— Absurd? Mom, everything you did brought me to this place.

— See, you were born ready to blame others for your mistakes.

— No, Mom. No.

— Thomas, it’s the truth. I’ve always felt the same way. I knew you were screwy. Always. You were screwy out of the womb. You were screwy as a child, screwy as an adolescent.

— Well, that’s a nice coincidence, because I have a remnant of that period in the barracks next door.

— Who?

— Think of sixth grade.

— I have no idea. Not Mr. Hansen.

— I knew you knew.

— You kidnapped Mr. Hansen.

— He was a lot easier than the astronaut. Almost easier than the congressman. He was so pliant. Weak.

— Son, I hope you didn’t harm that man. They’ll kill you if you did anything to Dickinson.