All Families Are Psychotic

by Douglas Coupland

‘We were going to eat and run,’ Bryan said.

  ‘You what?’

  ‘We’re broke.’

  ‘Where’s your father?’

  ‘He’s in the car around the side of the building.’

  ‘Boys, how could you?’ The food arrived, and Janet looked at her sons. ‘You’re both men, for God’s sake.’

  ‘We’re starving,’ said Bryan. ‘We spent the night sleeping on the beach.’

  Wade added, ‘We could have slept in the van, except Bryan sloshed gasoline all over the inside.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to, Wade.’

  ‘Hey, Mom,’ Wade said, his radar for the unusual finely attuned, ‘what about you? I mean, what are you doing in a dive like this in Cocoa Beach at 8:00 A.M. in the morning, for that matter?’

  ‘I was looking for you two. You’re on the way to Daytona, right? Right?’

  Her sons looked guilty.

  ‘So I was right. What matters is, all I wanted was to find the two of you, and I did.’

  Their food was on the counter. ‘Come on, guys, let’s sit down.’ Wade pointed them to a booth, the table top of which was sprinkled with dandruffy sugar particles and coffee rings. ‘Let’s eat.’

  They unwrapped and deboxed their breakfasts as Ted came in. ‘What the hell?’

  ‘Hi, Dad,’ said Bryan. ‘Have a seat.’

  He looked at Janet with surprise and curiosity. ‘What are you doing here? When did you—?’ He then looked down at the food. ‘Christ, who cares. I’m starving.’ He sat down. ‘Which one of these things has the least fat in it?’

  ‘Ted, this is fast food,’ Janet said. ‘Even the ice cubes contain fat.’

  ‘Right.’ He opened a box and inserted an entire English muffin into his gullet.

  Wade said, ‘Jesus, Dad, you aren’t Omar the snake. Chew your food, why don’t you?’

  There was a quiet patch, after which Janet said, ‘Well, fellas, I’m so glad to see you’re all so interested in my nearly being shot yesterday in the restaurant holdup.’

  The men erupted into apology. It’s not that they’re unable to care – it’s that it never crosses their minds to do so. They’re so unlike women.

  Janet spent the next while telling the three men about the restaurant holdup. One she’d finished, Wade and Bryan leaned back and whistled. Ted was silent. This was more sympathy than she’d received from anybody in years. Well, at least they all seem to be kind of happy I’m still here.

  Ted’s cell phone had no juice, so he went to the pay phone to call Nickie, but he returned shortly. ‘No one there. I left a message saying everything’s fine.’ He sat down and resumed eating his breakfast dregs.

  Bryan had been buying fresh coffees. Sitting down at the table again, he said, ‘Mom, what about the big fight you had with Sarah?’

  On hearing this, Ted shot a semichewed English muffin onto the soiled laminate tabletop. ‘You what?’

  Janet said, ‘We had a fight, Ted.’

  ‘What do you mean you had a fight? You two don’t fight.’

  Janet rolled her eyes; Wade said, ‘Dad, shut up and eat.’ Wade then turned to his brother: ‘Don’t discuss this while he’s around.’

  Ted persevered: ‘You and Sarah have never had a fight, ever.’

  ‘There’s a first time for everything, Ted.’

  ‘What was the fight about?’

  Janet refused to answer.

  Ted said, ‘Oh, the silent treatment. I see.’

  ‘Yes, Ted,’ said Janet. ‘I’m going to sit here and simmer away. Simmer, simmer, simmer, simmer. Bryan, could you pass me a salt packet?’ She nibbled at a cold hash brown patty. She said, ‘I hear you had a lovely al fresco sleep on the beach.’

  ‘Dumb-dumb slopped gasoline inside the van. Sand flies bit me all night.’

  Bryan said, ‘At least the sand was cool for my sunburn.’

  Janet said, ‘Won’t Howie be thrilled to hear of the adventures you’re having in his van.’ This garnered conspiratory giggles. She lowered her coffee onto the table. ‘You know, I was going to ask the three of you what you’re doing with Howie’s van and sleeping on a beach en route to Daytona Beach, but you know what? I’ve decided it’s probably for the best that I don’t know.’

  Bryan said, ‘Dad flipped Beth’s rental car yesterday – totally wrote the thing off. Hey – guess what – Shw’s going to keep the baby!’

  ‘Lovely,’ said Janet. She looked at Wade and raised her eyebrows: Does Bryan know about the impending baby sale? Wade shook his head: No.

  Bryan continued recapping:‘… and then we had to walk to the nearest gas station, but Shw saw us and picked us up and made us ride in the trunk of her car.’

  ‘You don’t say.’

  ‘Numb-nuts got sunburned walking on the freeway,’ Ted added, ‘hence our brief visit in the hospital last night.’

  ‘My, my.’

  The men had stopped by the hotel to pick up Wade’s pills, then drove towards Daytona Beach, but took the wrong exit somewhere along the way and then ran out of gas. With no money between them, they spent the night on the beach.

  ‘Aren’t you all so clever.’ She was waiting for a lull in the discussion so she could ask a set of questions: Why do you have Howie’s van? Where did Howie go? Why is finding that grotesque little Shw creature so important to the three of you? Cheerfully colored greasy litter lay strewn across their booth’s counter. ‘Mom,’ said Wade, ‘I need money.’

  Janet’s expression indicated not a whiff of surprise.

  ‘If you could lend us a little, it’d be great,’ said Wade. ‘We need to do this road trip, and otherwise we’ll probably keep on doing stupider and stupider things until one of us ends up in the U.S. jail system again, and won’t that be a treat?’

  ‘I want to hear about your fight with Sarah,’ Ted said. ‘What happened?’

  Janet’s guard was down: ‘If you must know, I told her I was taking thalidomide for my mouth ulcers. I felt I owed that much truth to her.’

  The flesh of Ted’s face leapt away from his skull. ‘You’re taking thalidomide? Tell me I didn’t hear you say that, oh, Jesus’

  ‘Ted, shut up. It’s not like I’m going to get myself knocked up.’

  ‘Putting that shit into your body is evil. They should take every last molecule of that vile crap and burn it.’

  Ted’s depth of feeling on the subject took Janet aback. ‘Ted, I don’t see why you have to be so rattled over this.’

  ‘You wouldn’t. Oh, Jesus.’

  ‘I’m not going to tell you any more, then.’

  ‘There’s more?’

  ‘Yes, there’s more. She asked me if I would have … aborted her if I’d known about her hand. I didn’t blast out the word “no” right away. I was obviously going to say “no”, but I was just speaking the way I normally speak, but then she took offense and—’

  ‘And what?’

  ‘She hung up. That’s all.’

  ‘My little girl’s about to go into space, and you tell her you never wanted her in the first place.’

  ‘Don’t be an idiot, Ted. You know that’s not the case.’

  ‘I do, do I? Since when are you a mind reader?’

  Their voices were escalating. Wade grabbed Janet and said, ‘Let’s go, Mom.’ They walked out the door, Bryan acting as a shield from Ted, who followed them outside, continuing to berate Janet.

  ‘How could you do that to her?’

  ‘I didn’t do anything to her, Ted. It’s in her mind.’ They were now out in the parking lot beside the orange van.

  ‘You were never close to her,’ said Ted. ‘You never opened up to her. You were cold.’

  Janet stopped in her tracks and turned around, ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘You heard me,’ said Ted. ‘You felt guilty about her hand. You felt ashamed—’

  ‘How dare you even think of accusing me of—’

  Wade stepped in. ‘Dad, you apologize to Mom. Now.’

  ‘No. I won�
��t. Because it’s true. Look at her eyes. It’s there. At least I saw Sarah as being marked for greatness. Your mother here only saw her as marked.’

  ‘That’s it,’ Wade said. He dove into his father’s midriff and yelled out, ‘Bryan, get the rope.’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Janet asked.

  ‘Get off me, you frigging chowderhead.’

  Bryan quickly retrieved coils of rope from the van’s emergency box while Wade straddled his father’s shoulders, police-holding Ted’s arms behind the small of his back. In a flash, Bryan’s Boy Scout training kicked into gear and Ted’s feet were neatly bound like a rodeo steer, while Ted swore like an army platoon.

  ‘Grab his arms,’ Wade said. ‘Rope ’em up.’

  With considerable finesse Bryan completed his father’s trussing.

  ‘That rope hurts, you cretin. Untie me.’

  Bryan said, ‘No. I don’t think so.’

  Ted said, ‘Jan, call these goons off me. Jesus.’

  Janet looked him over and said, ‘You know what, Ted? I think not.’

  Wade said, ‘Bryan, grab his feet. Let’s dump him in the van.’ Swiftly the two men did a one-two-three – heave! and Ted was dumped on the van’s floor like an old gym bag. ‘There,’ Wade said. ‘You’re our hostage.’

  ‘Hostage from what?’

  Mother and two sons paused to consider this. Janet spoke: ‘From Sarah’s launch. No lift-off for you, Ted.’

  ‘You stupid fuckers, you insane little—’ but his invective was brought to a muffled halt by Bryan, who’d rustled about inside Howie’s plentifully stocked first-aid box, finding a thick coral-colored bandage and slapping it onto his father’s mouth.

  ‘Voila.’ Bryan beamed.

  There then followed a brief quiet moment as Janet and her sons stood outside the van, looking at Ted. ‘Mom,’ said Wade, ‘Hop in.’

  Janet paused for just a beat and said, ‘OK. But let me get my stuff from my rental car.’ They did this, and Janet felt … fabulous as they pulled out onto the road. ‘Hey, I thought you guys were out of gas—’

  Wade and Bryan smiled.

  Don’t ask.

  ‘Wade, could you be a darling and tell me a bit more about what exactly is going on here?’

  Wade shrugged and he told his mother about Disney World, Norm’s cardiac death, the letter, Shw’s trunk, the race to Daytona Beach … At the end of it, Janet was silent and stared at the passing marsh grasses, condo development signs and squashed animals.

  ‘So, Mom, what do you think?’

  Janet thought of the letter – such a perfect crystal of all words left unspoken between mother and child. And then up in the sky she saw a mound of mashed-potato Columbia Pictures clouds. She had an idea – or the germ of an idea. ‘I think we should stop at the next mall we come to.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We need to buy envelopes and make duplicate letters.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Wade, look in my eyes. Look at me and tell me that you would hand over a letter as precious as that to some monster who’d actually pay for it.’ Janet waited a second. ‘See? You can’t. If you were able, then you wouldn’t be my son.’

  Wade absorbed this; Janet thought he seemed to take to the idea rather well. Wade said, ‘OK. Sure. But why would we make duplicates, then?’

  ‘What – and not make that easy money? I may be your mother, but I’m not nuts.’

  Bryan said, ‘Good. We don’t have to bother finding the real one in Shw’s trunk.’

  ‘Over my dead body. That letter is going to be rescued.’

  ‘But the royal stationery—’ said Bryan.

  ‘Nonsense. It’s Hallmark or a similar brand. Norm just didn’t want you taking the card yourselves. Did you take measurements?’

  ‘I did,’ Wade said. ‘It’s seven by five.’

  ‘Did you use a ruler?’ Janet felt like a Mafia kingpin.

  ‘My fingers. The tip of my index finger to the tip of my thumb is exactly five inches. My pinky to my thumb is seven.’

  ‘Pull into that mall.’

  The next mall up the road was slightly more touristy. They parked and left Ted on the floor like a bag of groceries. The greeting card store opened for business just as they arrived. ‘See?’ said Janet. ‘A good sign – the universe wants us to make duplicates.’

  They went through the store and ended up with several boxes of wedding invitation envelopes that were a close match, dozens of assorted cards to go inside, and a variety of pens and scribbler pads.

  ‘What next?’ Bryan asked.

  ‘Over there.’ They went to a discount book mart, and quickly found books about Princess Diana, and one with a photo of the envelope on the coffin. They bought it and walked to a Starbucks clone, bought coffees and sat down with a selection of pens.

  ‘OK, boys,’ she said. ‘Let’s practice our penmanship here. First thing is, we have to make the envelope just right. We can do the card inside afterwards.’

  They began writing the word ‘Mummy’, over and over, trying to perfectly mimic the original. Bryan said, ‘Wade, shouldn’t you phone Beth? I mean, you pretty much abandoned her at the hotel.’

  Wade’s face flushed and he looked at Janet. ‘Dad’s cell phone died. For now I just want to do these envelopes.’

  Janet thought about her own mother, who had died of a stroke during a holiday on Lake Huron in the 1970s. Her death, in and of itself, didn’t sadden Janet. What saddened her was that she had never really known who her mother was as a person. Janet was frightened that her mother might actually have been unknowable, and by extension, maybe all people were unknowable. So much of her mother’s life had been colonized by her husband. Once, after Janet was three children into her marriage with Ted, she asked her mother if she missed her maiden name.

  ‘Miss my maiden name? Good heavens, no. I threw it away the moment I said, “I do”.’

  Threw it away? Such self-erasure was beyond Janet. To her such a gesture evoked pictures of Quebec nuns allowing themselves to be bricked into walls in a backfired idea of devotion. But for all that, Janet’s mother had, for a human being born without a penis in the year 1902, done quite well for herself, whereas Janet, given an infinitely larger array of options and freedoms, had blown it. Blown it? By what standards? If I’d played my cards right I’d be what, now – a judge? Wearing shoulder pads while heading some electronics corporation?Owning a muffin shop? That’s success? Success is failure; failure is success. We were given so many mixed signals at once that we ended up becoming nothings. But my daughter – she escaped.

  Blink …

  ‘Maybe we should let Dad go to the bathroom,’ Bryan said.

  ‘No,’ said Wade.

  Janet said, ‘It was very naughty of the two of you to tie him up like that.’

  ‘He deserved to be tied up.’

  ‘I’m not saying he didn’t.’

  ‘Oh. OK.’

  They continued writing out the word ‘Mummy’. Bryan, to Janet’s surprise, was the best of the three. ‘You know, you’re very good, Bryan.’

  ‘Thanks. Playing the guitar makes my fingers more dexterous.’

  ‘I can see.’

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ Wade asked his mother. ‘You have that I’ve-got-a-secret look on your face.’

  ‘Nothing really. Well, actually my mother. You never really knew her.’

  ‘I did a little bit,’ Wade said. ‘Grandma Kaye. She never talked and she smelled like skin cream.’

  ‘No, she didn’t talk much,’ Janet said. ‘Did she?’

  Wade went on: ‘What were you thinking about her?’

  ‘How her life wasn’t much of a story – nothing wrong with that – look at mine. But I keep on thinking that if I look at my life long enough, there’ll be a sort of grand logic to it – a scheme. But I don’t think there is.’

  ‘Does that scare you?’ Wade asked.

  ‘No. And I think the future is pretty pointless,
too.’

  ‘Mom,’ said Bryan, ‘You sound like the Sex Pistols.’

  ‘Those dreadful punk rockers.’ Janet’s lips pursed.

  ‘Mom,’ Wade said, ‘the thing I can’t figure out about you is how can you be so moral and TV mom about life, but not believe in anything at the same time. I don’t understand.’

  ‘What made you think that those TV moms believed in anything, Wade?’

  ‘Uhhh—’

  ‘They didn’t. Not really. We weren’t robots but we weren’t complete people, either.’ Small birds flitted about Janet’s feet. ‘Anyway, that was so many eras ago. So long ago. I feel like a fraud living in the year 2001. I’m not supposed to be a part of all this.’ She put down her pen and looked at her son’s efforts at forgery. ‘Bryan, you’re going to be our official calligrapher.’ She handed him a stack of envelopes. ‘Write on these, please.’

  Bryan, happy to be chosen for a task, penned away with scientific calm. Janet turned to Wade. ‘Beth says you have lesions on your shins. Can I see them?’

  ‘Why not?’ Wade rolled his pants up and his mother looked at the purple lesions, shaped like the states and counties of the United States, scrambled together.

  ‘Do they hurt?’ Janet asked.

  ‘Nah. Not at all. But it’s hard to look at them. I feel like an apple that’s been in the basket for a month too long and I’m rotting from the inside.’

  ‘Can I touch them?’

  ‘Be my guest.’

  ‘Let me.’ Janet bent down and touched her son’s shins and she thought of Sunday School and Jesus washing the feet of his disciples and yet again became angry at the way the past was always inserting itself into her present. ‘Can you do anything about them?’

  ‘Yes. No. They’re not going away, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Wade.’

  18

  Wade and Beth’s trip to Milan was a somber, penny-pinching experience – a charter flight cramped in tiny seats, which made Wade motion sick for much of the flight – He was almost hallucinatory when they got to the tiny pensióne in Milan – a city the color of graham crackers and soot that resembled Toronto more than Wade’s preconceptions of rustic fishing villages where everybody drank Chianti and drove itty-bitty bumper cars. And the taxi ride to the fertility clinic was a sci-fi experience as they passed through Milan’s industrial outskirts, devoid of color or plant life and feeling like the year 2525. Once there, Wade was told to cab back to the city, that Beth was ‘going to be administered to’ – a creepy choice of words – and would stay for the day. Wade could come back around five.