Sam Pink
The Self-Esteem Holocaust Comes Home
for gianni
(and for the person reading it)
THE BASTARDS [THEY TRAVEL IN QUIET — WITH THE HOLY FATHER LANDING CREW]
Night. Three policemen, driving. They travel in quiet. The driver blows out smoke from his cigarette, hand against his face, other hand lightly attending the steering wheel. Lights from the dash green his face. And the other two policemen — one in the passenger side, one in the backseat — they are quiet. They stop at an abandoned school building cuffed with snow.
THE DRIVER: Here it is [throws cigarette out the window] This is where The World’s Greatest Dad sleeps.
THE PASSENGER: [making circles in fogged window with fingertips] I have so many questions. I’m a confused person [breathes fog to cover circles] I’m just glad we’re here. It’s safe here. Do you guys agree?
Nobody answers. They leave the car and cross the playground. One of the policemen spins the tic-tac-toe panels as he walks by. Another policeman falls on some ice, then gets up, very slow and mechanic. The school is lit by what little light comes from the streetlight and each of the empty brick windowells is a black rectangle. The policemen pause in front of the school, staring.
THE DRIVER: [finger to his lips] Shh. The building is sleeping. We should be quiet. If it wakes up, it will eat us whole. All of us.
THE PASSENGER: Yeah, everyone be quiet.
All three are still staring at the school.
THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: My face is the least quiet part of my body. Unless wait, does your voice come from your face or from your stomach? Whatever. I will try to keep both quiet [puts a hand on each’s shoulder] I don’t want you guys to dislike me. I want to remain friends. I have so many questions for The Greatest Dad in the World. I’m just so excited. This is Heaven. Ok, I’ll be quiet now, sorry. Ok.
THE DRIVER: I don’t believe in Heaven. I only believe in hands that are everywhere. You can get in the hands if you want a ride up. You can get in the hands if you just want to move. The hands are everywhere. But they don’t ever know where they’re going, ever. And they don’t make you get in either.
They disappear into a black doorway on the side of the school and enter a room floored by garbage, some streetlight imported through the empty window. There is a man sleeping on the ground, hair and beard dreadlocked, shoes flapped open. He sleeps on his side, dirty coat for a blanket on his legs. The decal on the front of his sweatshirt reads ‘Greatest Dad in the World.’ And the ground is silted filth displaced by his body.
THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: [to the driver] You were right. There are hands everywhere [excited] We are the hands. We have to be the hands. Should we carry him up?
THE DRIVER: [kneels] No. No, he is too good for our hands. We have been with the dirt in the woods. We have been with the dirt. Right now we are the filth under him. He is too good for our hands. We have to learn from him first. Then we will be clean enough to carry him to Heaven or up or wherever. Or just keep lifting him because we don’t know where to go.
THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: [quietly] We don’t know where we’re going.
THE PASSENGER: We don’t know what we’re doing.
The driver gently kicks the chest of The Greatest Dad in the World, toes against the decal. Then flashlights him.
THE DRIVER: Hey, wake up [pause] We have questions for you, wise one.
Eyes open, The Greatest Dad in the World tenses and sprawls out. He grabs a garbagebag nearby. Then he eyes the policemen with an animal distrust. Loses sight of them in the flashlight.
THE DRIVER: [waves flashlight back and forth] Relax, motherfucker, I don’t want your cans. I want to ask you some questions — you know, since my father was shitty by comparison [clears throat] Alright. Um let’s see. Are the hands really everywhere and are we clean enough to sleep in them? [sniffs] Will the hands help us? Are we the hands? And would you like us to carry you up or no? [nervous] Wait. Tell me about the hands. I guess just, wait, tell me about the hands please. Do that first please.
THE PASSENGER: [nudging forward] Greatest Dad in the World, what is my true calling in life? Am I able to accomplish it? Who is this person I call me? [laughs]
THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: [standing on tip toes to ask over their shoulders] Am I incapable of loving another human being or is everyone incapable of doing that and I’m just worried about nothing? [looks at other policemen] Sorry is it my turn yet?
THE DRIVER: [chopping the air once for emphasis] Wait. We’re being selfish. It’s too cold out to be this selfish. We can drive him around and he can answer our questions and we can buy him food. And make him warm. We need to warm him up in the car before he can answer our questions. I think we need to stop being so selfish [chops air again] That’s what I think [flashlight dies] Shit.
The Greatest Dad in the World collects his things and claps out of the room on his broken shoes. He glances over his shoulder at them all before the outside takes him. The policemen move towards the same lit doorframe, and follow him outside.
THE DRIVER: [pushing The Greatest Dad in The World into the snow] Get in the car.
They pick him up and push him into the passenger seat. They get in too, the passenger taking a seat in back. Everyone is quiet. They idle in the parking lot with the heater on all the way.
THE DRIVER: Greatest Dad in the World, are you feeling warmer and better now? Really — have we been helpful?
The Greatest Dad in the World says nothing.
THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: [leaning forward from backseat] Good, then — am I a good boy? [warning] Be honest. I need to know. Just tell me [breathes out, straightens himself] Have I been a good boy or not?
THE DRIVER: [puts hand on passenger-side headrest] I already called the first question. Greatest Dad in the World, what did you want to be when you grew up, before you became a person without a home? I want to know that.
The Greatest Dad in the World says nothing. He faces his lap. The policemen all stare at him.
THE GREATEST DAD IN THE WORLD: [long pause, soft coughing] I wanted to fly airplanes.
THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: Wait, what did he say. I can’t hear because of the heater. Get him to say it again.
THE PASSENGER: He said he wanted to do airplane shit.
THE MAN FROM THE BACKSEAT: What does airplane shit mean.
THE GREATEST DAD IN THE WORLD: Airplanes. Flying airplanes.
THE DRIVER: [turning off headlights] Oh oh, ok. That’s great, Greatest Dad in the World. I am proud [pokes] of [pokes] you [pokes, takes a deep breath, shrugs] You didn’t learn how to do that [releases shrug] but that’s ok I think [cranes neck towards back windshield] Or wait, did you just park your plane around the corner and I can’t see it? [taps Greatest Dad with back of hand] Hey, when am I going to be on a plane and hear the Greatest Dad in the World on the p.a.? [puts his hand up to his mouth, mimics sound of scratchy speaker] “This is, Captain Greatest Dad in the World, on the p-fucking-a. Just wanted to let you know, if you look to the left, you’ll see my bag of cans. And also, I am better than every dad on this flight. Turn to your dad and tell him that [makes static clicking sound] Over.”
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