George Saunders - Tenth of December - Stories

Leslie’s mother arrives (in BMW). Leslie, Leslie’s mother bicker briefly re. pond.

Leslie’s mom: Les, love, you already have three streams.

Leslie (caustic): Is a stream a pond, Maman?

Leslie and mom leave.

Lilly gives me grateful peck on cheek, runs upstairs singing happy tune.

Am so happy. Feel so lucky. What did we do to deserve? In part, yes: luck. Scratch-Off win = luck. But as saying goes, luck = ninety percent skill. Or preparation? Preparation = ninety percent skill? Skill = ninety percent luck? Cannot exactly remember saying. Anyway, to our credit, managed our good luck well. Did not go nuts, buy boat, buy drugs (!), fly off handle, become discontent, seek lovers, get cocky. Just took good hard look at family, discerned what family member (Lilly) needed, quietly/humbly made sure she got.

Note to self: Try to extend positive feelings associated with Scratch-Off win into all areas of life. Be bigger presence at work. Race up ladder (joyfully, w/smile on face), get raise. Get in best shape of life, start dressing nicer. Learn guitar? Make point of noticing beauty of world? Why not educate self re. birds, flowers, trees, constellations, become true citizen of natural world, walk around neighborhood w/kids, patiently teaching kids names of birds, flowers, etc. etc.? Why not take kids to Europe? Kids have never been. Have never, in Alps, had hot chocolate in mountain café, served by kindly white-haired innkeeper, who finds them so sophisticated/friendly relative to usual snotty/rich American kids (who always ignore his pretty but crippled daughter w/braids) that he shows them secret hiking path to incredible glade, kids frolic in glade, sit with crippled pretty girl on grass, later say it was most beautiful day of their lives, keep in touch with crippled girl via email, we arrange surgery here for her, surgeon so touched he agrees to do surgery for free, she is on front page of our paper, we are on front page of their paper in Alps?

Ha ha.

Just happy.

Hence these fantastical speculations.

(Actually have never been to Europe myself. Dad felt portions there too small. Then Dad lost job, got paper route, portion size = moot point.)

Have been sleepwalking through life, future reader. Can see that now. Scratch-Off win was like wake-up call. In rush to graduate college, win Pam, get job, make babies, move ahead in job, forgot former feeling of special destiny I used to have when tiny, sitting in cedar-smelling bedroom closet, looking up at blowing trees through high windows, feeling I would someday do something great.

Hereby resolve to live life in new and more powerful way, starting THIS MOMENT (!)

(Sept. 23)

Eva being a pain.

As I may have mentioned above, Eva = sensitive. This good, Pam and I feel: this = sign of intelligence. But Eva seems to have somehow gotten idea that sensitivity = effective way to get attention, i.e., has developed tendency to set herself apart from others, possibly as way of distinguishing self, i.e., casting self as better, more refined than others? Has, in past, refused to eat meat, sit on leather seats, use plastic forks made in China. Is endearing enough when little kid does. But Eva getting older now, this tendency to object on principle starting to feel a bit precious + becoming fundamental to how she views self?

Family life of our time sometimes seems like game of Whac-a-Mole, future reader. Future generations still have? Plastic mole emerges, you whack with hammer, he dies, falls, another emerges, you whack, kill? Perhaps may seem like strange/violent game to you, future reader? Who no longer even need to eat to live? Just levitate all day, smiling warmly at one another? Sometimes seems that, as soon as one kid happy, another kid “pops up,” i.e., registers complaint, requiring parent to “whack” kid, i.e., address complaint.

Apparently now Eva’s turn.

Today Eva’s teacher, Ms. Ross, sent home note: Eva acting out. Eva grouchy, Eva stamped foot, Eva threw fish food container at John M. when John M. asked for his turn to feed fish. This not like Eva, Ms. R. says: Eva sweetest, kindest kid in class.

Also, Eva’s artwork has recently gone odd.

Sample odd artwork enclosed:

Typical house. (Can tell is meant to be our house by mock cherry tree = swirl of pink.) In yard, SGs frowning. One (“Betty”) having thought in cartoon balloon: OUCH! THIS SURE HERTS. Second (“Gwen”) pointing long bony finger at house: THANKS LODES. Third (“Lisa”), tears rolling down cheeks: WHAT IF I AM YOUR DAUHTER?

Pam: Well. This doesn’t seem to be going away.

Me: No, it does not.

Took Eva for drive. Drove through Eastridge, Lemon Hills. Pointed out houses w/SGs. Had Eva keep count. In end, of approx 50 houses, 39 had.

Eva: So just because everyone is doing it, that makes it right.

This cute. Eva parroting me, Pam.

On Waddle Duck Crossing, eight-SG arrangement: SGs holding hands, nice (paper-doll) effect. All seem to be singing together. Three toddlers racing around rack, two puppies chasing toddlers.

Me: Wow. That looks pretty miserable.

(Eva sharp, Eva witty. Hence will often joke w/Eva.)

Eva silent.

Stopped at Fritz’s Chillhouse, had banana split, Eva had SnowMelt, we sat on big wooden crocodile, watched sun go down.

Eva: I don’t even — I don’t even get it how they’re not dead.

Suddenly occurred to me, w/little gust of relief: Eva resisting in part because she does not understand basic science of thing. Asked Eva if she even knew what Semplica Pathway was. Did not. Drew human head on napkin, explained: Lawrence Semplica = doctor + smart cookie. Found way to route microline through brain that does no damage, causes no pain. Technique uses lasers to make pilot route. Microline then threaded through w/silk leader. Microline goes in here (touched Eva’s temple), comes out here (touched other). Is very gentle, does not hurt, SGs out during whole deal.

Then decided to level w/Eva.

Explained: Lilly at critical juncture. Next year, Lilly will start high school. Mommy and Daddy want Lilly to enter high school able to hold her head up, as confident young woman, feeling her family as good/affluent as any other family, her yard approx. in ballpark of yards of peers, i.e., not so far out of whack as previously, i.e., not overt source of embarrassment for Lilly.

This too much to ask?

Eva quiet.

Could see wheels turning.

Eva wild about Lilly, would walk in front of train for Lilly.

Then shared story w/Eva re. summer job I had in high school, at Señor Tasty’s (taco place). Was hot, was greasy, boss mean, boss always goosing us with tongs. By time I went home, hair always completely greasy + shirt stunk of grease. No way I could do that job now. But then? Actually enjoyed: flirted with counter girls, participated in pranks with other employees (hid tongs of mean boss, slipped magazine down own pants so that, when mean boss tong-goosed me, did not hurt, mean boss = baffled).

Point is, I said, everything relative. SGs have lived very different lives from us. Their lives brutal, harsh, unpromising. What looks scary/unpleasant to us may not be so scary/unpleasant to them, i.e., they have seen worse.

Eva: You flirted with girls?

Me: I did. Don’t tell Mom.

That got little smile.

Believe I somewhat broke through with Eva. Hope so. At any rate, am glad I tried. When Mom and Dad divorcing, Dad took me for milkshake, broke news re. divorce. Was always grateful to Dad for this. Felt good to know he was thinking of me even in what must have been sad + dark time for him.

Mom was having affair with Ted DeWitt, guy from work. DeWitt always flattering Mom, saying she looked pretty, saying she was only reason he even got up in morning. Mom not used to this. Dad loved Mom. But Dad laconic. Dad not one to blab about his love. Dad loved in quiet, steady way. For their tenth anniversary, Dad bought Mom power sander (!). Dad’s pet name for Mom = Stretch. (Mom tall.) Dad used to joke that Mom looked like tall boy. Would sometimes walk into kitchen, pretend to be startled by presence of tall boy at sink. Mom, charmed by DeWitt, began sneaking away to hotel with DeWitt, fell in love with DeWitt. (Did not know any of this at time. Only found out years later, when Dad, at end of life, told me all.)