Tenth of December: Stories

by George Saunders

  Then said we would get check, check for TEN GRAND, within week.

  Raced home on foot, forgetting car. Raced back for car. Halfway back, thought what the heck, raced home on foot. Pam raced out, said where is car? Showed her Scratch-Off ticket, she stood stunned in yard.

  Are we rich now? Thomas said, racing out, dragging Ferber by collar.

  Not rich, Pam said.

  Richer, I said.

  Richer, Pam said. Damn.

  Then we all danced around yard, Ferber looking witless at sudden dancing, then doing dance of own, by chasing own tail.

  Then of course had to decide how to use. That night in bed Pam said partially pay off credit cards? My feeling was yes, o.k., could. But did not seem to me exciting and also did not seem all that exciting to her.

  Pam: It would be nice to do something special for Lilly’s birthday.

  Me: Me too, exactly, yes!

  Pam: She could use something, she has really been down.

  Me: You know what, let’s do it.

  Because Lilly our oldest, we have soft spot for her, soft spot that is also like worry spot.

  So we hatched up scheme, then did.

  Which was: went to Greenway Landscaping, had them do total new yard design, incl. ten rose bushes + cedar pathway + pond + small hot-tub + four-SG arrangement! Big fun part was, how soon could it be done? Plus could it be done secret? Greenway said, for price, could do in one day, while kids at school. (Note to self: write letter praising Melanie, Greenway gal: super facilitator.)

  Step two was, send out secret invites to surprise party to be held on evening of day of yard completion, i.e., tomorrow, i.e., that is why so silent in terms of this book for last week, sorry, sorry, have just been superbusy!

  Pam and I worked so well together, like in old days, so nice and close, total agreement, that night when arrangements all made, went to bed early (!!). (Masseuse scenario, do not ask!)

  Sorry if corny.

  Am just happy.

  Sometimes so busy do not see her/she does not see me. But when we do see each other, is like early days, for example first date at Melody Lake when, entering Spelunker’s Cave, we kissed near crowd of grey-beard animatrons, in smell of chlorine mist from nearby bright-blue waterfall.

  Was beginning of our beautiful story.

  Am so happy.

  Note to future generations: Happiness possible. And when happy, so much better than opposite, i.e., sad. Hopefully you know! I knew, but forgot. Got used to being slightly sad! Slightly sad, due to stress, due to worry vis-a-vis limitations. But now, wow, no: happy!

  Tomorrow big party for Lilly.

  (September 21! Lilly B-Day(!))

  There are days so perfect you feel: This is what life about. When old, will feel whole life worth it, because I got to experience this perfect day.

  Today that kind of day.

  Maybe too excited to tell in order, plus tired after long great day. But will try.

  In morning kids go off to school per usual. Greenway comes at ten. Nice guys. Big guys! One w/Mohawk. Yard done by two (!). Roses in, fountain in, pathway in. SG truck arrives at three. SGs exit truck, stand shyly near fence while rack installed. Rack nice. Opted for “Lexington” (mid-range in terms of price): bronze uprights w/Colonial caps, EzyReleese levers.

  SGs already in white smocks. Microline already strung through. SGs holding microline slack in hands, like mountain climbers holding rope. Only no mountain (!). One squatting, others standing polite/nervous, one sniffing new roses. She gives timid wave, other says something to her, like saying: Hey, not supposed to wave. But I wave back, like saying: In this household, is o.k. to wave.

  Doctor monitors installation by law. So young! Looks like should be working at Wendy’s. Says we can watch hoist or not. Gives me meaningful look, cuts eyes at Pam, as in: wife squeamish? Pam somewhat squeamish. Sometimes does not like to handle raw chicken. I say let’s go inside, put candles on cake.

  Soon, knock on door: doctor says hoist all done.

  Me: So can we have a look?

  Him: Totally.

  We step out. SGs up now, approx. three feet off ground, smiling, swaying in slight breeze. Order, left to right: Tami (Laos), Gwen (Moldova), Lisa (Somalia), Betty (Philippines). Effect amazing. Having so often seen similar configuration in yards of others more affluent, makes own yard seem suddenly affluent, you feel different about self, as if at last you are in step with peers and time in which living.

  Pond great. Roses great. Path, hot tub great.

  Everything set.

  Could not believe we had pulled this off.

  Picked Lilly up early at school. Lilly all hangdog because her b-day and no one said Happy B-Day at breakfast, and no party and no gifts so far, plus now has to go to doctor, for shot?

  Because that was ruse.

  In car, pretended to be lost. Lilly (discouraged): Daddy, how can you be lost when Hunneke our doctor forever? (Pam worked this out in advance with nurse, who, when I finally “found” office, came out, said the doctor was sick, too sick to give shot: the first of series of super surprises for Lilly!)

  Meanwhile, at home: Pam, Thomas, Eva scramble to decorate. Food delivered (BBQ from Snakey’s). Friends arrive. So when Lilly gets out of car, what does she see but whole new yard full of all friends from school sitting at new picnic table near new hot tub (note to self: write note praising kids for admirable restraint/keeping secret), and new line of four SGs, and Lilly literally bursts into tears of happiness!

  Then more tears as shiny pink packages unwrapped, “Resting Fierceness” plus “Girl Reading to Little Sister” revealed. Lilly touched I had remembered exact figurines. Plus “Summer Daze” (hobo-clown fishing ($380)), which she hadn’t even requested (just to prove largesse). Several more waves of happy tears, hugs, right in front of friends, as if gratitude/affection for us greater than fear of rebuke from friends.

  Party guests played usual games, “Crack the Whip,” etc., etc. Somehow, playing in beautiful new yard energized games. Kids joyful, thanked us for inviting, several said they loved yard. Several parents lingered after, saying they loved yard.

  And my God the look on Lilly’s face as all left!

  Know she will always remember today.

  Only one slight negative: after party, during cleanup, Eva stomps away, picks up cat too roughly the way she sometimes does when mad. Cat scratches her, runs over to Ferber, claws Ferber. Ferber dashes away, stumbles into table, roses bought for Lilly crash down, on Ferber.

  We find Eva in closet.

  Pam: Sweetie, sweetie, what is it?

  Eva: I don’t like it. It’s not nice.

  Thomas (rushing over with cat to show he is master of cat): They want to, Eva. They like applied for it.

  Pam: Don’t say “like.”

  Thomas: They applied for it.

  Pam: Where they’re from, the opportunities are not so good.

  Me: It helps them take care of the people they love.

  Eva facing wall, lower lip out in her pre-crying way.

  Then I get idea: Go to kitchen, page through Personal Statements. Yikes. Worse than I thought: Laotian (Tami) applied due to two sisters already in brothels. Moldovan (Gwen) has cousin who thought was becoming window washer in Germany, but no: sex slave in Kuwait (!). Somali (Lisa) watched father + little sister die of AIDs, same tiny thatch hut, same year. Filipina (Betty) has little brother “very skilled for computer,” parents cannot afford high school, have lived in tiny lean-to with three other families since their own tiny lean-to slid down hillside in earthquake.

  I opt for “Betty,” go back to closet, read “Betty” aloud.

  Me: Does that help? Do you understand now? Can you kind of imagine her little brother, in a good school, because of her, because of us?

  Eva: If we want to help them, why can’t we just give them the money?

  Me: Oh, sweetie.

  Pam: Let’s go look. Let’s see do they look sad.

  (Do not look sad. Are in f
act quietly chatting in moonlight.)

  At window, Eva quiet. Deep well. So sensitive. Even when tiny, Eva sensitive. When former cat Squiggy dying, Eva slept beside cat bed, gave Squiggy water via eyedropper. Kind heart. But I worry, Pam worries: if kid too sensitive, kid goes out in world, world rips kid’s guts out, i.e., some toughness req’d?

  Lilly, on other hand, wrote all thank-you notes tonight in one sitting, mopped kitchen without being asked, then was out in yard w/flashlight, picking up Ferber area with new poop-scoop she apparently had ridden down on bike to buy w/own money at FasMart (!).

  (Sep. 22)

  Happy period continues.

  Everyone at work curious re. Scratch-Off win. Brought pics of yard into work, posted in cubicle, folks came by, admired. Steve Z. asked could he drop by house sometime, see yard in person. This a first: Steve Z. has never previously given me time of day. Even asked my advice: where did I buy winning Scratch-Off, how many Scratch-Offs do I typically buy, Greenway = reputable company?

  Embarrassed to admit how happy this made me.

  At lunch, went to mall, bought four new shirts. Running joke in department vis-à-vis: I only have two shirts. Not so. But have three similar blue shirts and two identical yellow shirts. Hence confusion. Do not generally buy new clothes for self. Have always felt it more important for kids to have new clothes, i.e., did not want other kids saying my kids have only two shirts etc., etc. As for Pam, Pam very beautiful, raised w/money. Do not want former wealthy beauty wearing same clothes over and over, feeling: when I was young, had so many clothes, but now, due to him (i.e., me), no, badly dressed.

  Correction: Pam not raised wealthy. Pam’s father = farmer in small town. Had biggest farm on edge of small town. So, relative to girls on smaller, poorer farms, Pam = rich girl. If same farm near bigger town, farm only average, but no: town so small, modest farm = estate.

  Anyway, Pam deserves best.

  On way home, stopped at store where had bought winning Scratch-Off. Bought Scratch-Off, plus four Butterfingers. Thought of bad old days, when, in laughable old shirt, would feel bad/guilty for buying even one Butterfinger.

  Guy behind counter remembered me, said: Hey, Mr. Scratch-Off, Mr. Big Winner!

  Everyone in store looked. I waved Butterfingers, two per hand, like scepters, mini-scepters, went out feeling happy.

  Why happy?

  Nice to win, be winner, be known as winner.

  Came home, took detour around side of house to peek at yard. Yard amazing: fish hovering near lily pads, bees buzzing around roses, SGs in fresh white smocks, shaft of sun falling across lawn, dust motes rising up w/sleepy late summer feeling, LifeStyleServices team (i.e., Greenway folks who come by 3x/day to give SGs meals/water, take SGs to SmallJon in back of van, deal with feminine issues, etc, etc.) hard at work in yard.

  Greenway gal: Kind of magic back here.

  Inside, found Leslie Torrini over (!). This = huge. Leslie never over solo before. Says she likes the way our SGs hang close to pond, are thus reflected in pond. Calls home, demands pond. Leslie’s mother calls Leslie spoiled brat, says no pond. This = big score for Lilly. Not that we are glad when someone else not glad. But Leslie so often glad when Lilly not glad, maybe is o.k. if, just once, Leslie = little bit sad, while Lilly = riding high?

  Girls go into yard, stay in yard for long time. Pam and I peek out. Girls getting along? Girls have heads together in shade of trees, exchanging girlish intimacies, cementing Lilly’s status as pal of Leslie? Can’t tell. Girls facing away.

  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, i
t 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).