Ken Sparling - Dad Says He Saw You at the Mall

There are two theories amongst us members of the staff here. Number one, someone on staff wants to get to the top of the reserve list so they can have the book and see the naked pictures of Madonna sooner. Number two, someone thinks they’re doing people a favor by not letting them see the book with the naked pictures of Madonna in it. In other words, for this second one, we are talking about censorship.

Finally, after much searching, I’m able to find one magazine with a picture of Madonna, naked. This is one of the Greek ones where I find it. When I first pick it up, I have no reason to believe it will be any different from the others. Like the others, there is a picture of Madonna on the cover. The picture on the cover is not a naked picture. Most of the article is gone, along with the pictures. But for some reason, whoever did it did not rip out the first page of the article. It is the picture where Madonna is in leather and her nipples are coming out through the leather bra she is wearing. On the page facing the picture it says, Let me teach you how to fuck .

~

I hate McDonald’s coffee, but when McDonald’s starts giving away Batman pogs with every drink purchase, I go over on my lunch hour and buy a coffee and three packs of pogs. That night I give the pogs to Sammy and he kisses me and tells me he loves me.

The next morning I’m at work and Sammy calls me. He can’t find some of the pogs I got him. He starts to cry while he’s talking to me on the phone. I can picture him standing there with the phone by his ear. I can see the way his little chin goes when he cries. I tell him not to cry. I tell him I’ll find the pogs when I get home from work.

I know what Tutti is thinking while I’m saying these things to Sammy over the phone. Tutti is standing there in the kitchen listening to what Sammy is saying, listening to him cry, thinking the way I deal with Sammy is turning him into a baby. This, I realize, is the danger in everything I do with Sammy.

In my heart, though, I cannot believe Sammy will ever turn out to be less than perfect. In my heart, the way my heart feels, I know that Sammy will always be as perfect as the little boy I’ve been dreaming into existence since the day I first saw him come out of his mother.

~

A friend of mine at work eats this French-Canadian stuff called Bdoings (pronounced like “boing”), which is curly noodles with cheese sauce on them. One time when she brought in Bdoings, I wanted to see them to see what they looked like, but I came into the lunchroom too late. My friend had already eaten her Bdoings. I picked up her Tupperware container and pulled off the lid. There was something in there which seemed like a tomato she had chewed up and spit out. All the librarians were there, having their lunch, so I go, “Never look inside a person’s used Tupperware container.”

My friend says, “It’s not Tupperware.”

So I say, “You can use Tupperware generically now.”

“You can?” Librarians love this shit. She says she is going to look “Tupperware” up in The Dictionary of New Words .

I tell her, “You look it up.”

Then my friend looks on the lid of her container and finds out what she has is called Lustroware. All the other librarians start looking to see what their containers are. One of them has a container that actually is Tupperware. Another has a Frig-O-Seal.

~

When I get home from work, Sammy locks himself in the bathroom and refuses to talk to me. I go outside and look at the flowers in the garden. When I come back in, Tutti is sitting at the kitchen table looking at the grocery flyers. I tell Tutti I have to go out. She says we should all go out. She says we can walk. She goes over to the bathroom and talks to Sammy though the door. “Sammy,” she says. She holds her head sideways so her ear is near the door. “They have Batman cornflakes on sale at Kmart.” Sammy comes out of the bathroom. He goes over to Tutti. He stands there with Tutti for a moment. Then he goes back to the bathroom because he forgot to turn the light off.

~

Picture a man. Any man you want. Picture two men if you want. Picture your dad. Picture anyone you want. Or don’t picture anyone at all. Picture whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to give you all the details. Because the truth is, I don’t even know what this guy looks like, and as long as we’re on the subject, I don’t care. Picture yoursef if you want.

And another thing, while we are on the subject. If you’re looking for one of those things where they give you the weather every five pages or so — it was a cold, but dazzlingly brilliant winter day, that sort of thing — go somewhere else. Because listen. I am not the weatherman. You want the weather? Watch the Weather Network. Okay? I am not he fucking weatherman.

~

I kept thinking I should write Mom a letter. I made some coffee. I opened the back door and went out onto the patio. For days we had had this terrible heat, but now it was cold, and I was standing on the patio thinking I should write Mom a letter.

This was when Mom was living near the beach. She was living near my sister, out near the beach. I’m talking about the beach we used to go to when we were kids. For some reason everybody has ended up living near the beach.

~

Then one day people with ink spots on their shirt pockets start gravitating toward me.

I THINKit is this: I am not sure if I am coming in or going out. This is what I think it is. But I am not sure. I have the key in the door. I don’t know whether to turn it to the left or the right. I think it’s because I don’t know whether I am coming or going. Lately things have been that way. I can’t tell if I am coming or going.

~

A dog is waiting by the back door of our apartment building. Tutti says, “Whose dog is that?” We sit in the car for a while, looking at the dog. Tutti doesn’t want to get out of the car.

I drive around to the front of the building and let Tutti out there. I tell her to meet me at the elevator.

“This is stupid,” she says. She gets out of the car and closes the door. She looks around to make sure the dog has not followed us. Then she walks across the sidewalk and goes in the front door of the building.

I drive the car back around to the parking lot and park in our spot. The dog is still there, sitting by the back door. He comes over to me when I get out of the car. He follows me as I walk around to the front of the building. When I get to the front door I say, “Go away.”

Tutti and I go up to our apartment. As soon as we get inside, Tutti goes over to the window to see if she can see the dog.

~

This is the paradox at the heart of my troubles. Somewhere, deep inside me I suspect, lurks a bowler. This is the dangerous edge I fear will cut into my being, my speech, my table manners.

~

“What did you do down there?” He wanted to know.

“I picked up garbage outside a library in North York,” I told Him. “And also, I plunged toilets.”

“Where is North York?” He asked.

I showed Him on the little globe He kept on a pole by His desk. He went over to the window.

“Shouldn’t you know where North York is?” I asked.

“I know where North York is,” He said to me. He stayed where He was, His back to me, looking out the window.

“The mafia kingpin for the Toronto area used to live in North York. He wore lime green safari suits. This was late in his life, when he was old. He went over to the mall in these awful-looking suits.

“He fell in love with beautiful women whose pictures he saw in fashion magazines. He would show pictures of these women to his sons. He sat in the kitchen of the big house where he lived, and smoked. His sons would go out and find the beautiful women and bring them home and the old man would marry them.