Although the life expectancy of Innocence was once believed to be only a few years, recent findings reveal that Innocence can persist in a state of semi-hibernation decades after its initial burst of activity.
SEE ALSO:
•ADOLESCENCE •BOREDOM •MYTHOLOGY•PHASE •YOUTH
INTEGRITY
❧
What attracts people to each other? The question has puzzled humans throughout the ages. Still we know little, except that the nature of attraction is irrational. Hypothetically speaking, a female professional in her early forties should have little rational incentive to stray from a marriage that has yielded two healthy children. Even were the most virile man to express interest, she would hardly be able to find time for a dalliance amid her busy schedule. Indeed, time is the one thing missing from her marriage (again, hypothetically). Yet it has been documented that such a woman will find herself attracted to someone other than her spouse—even to someone subjectively characterized as undistinguished in appearance and self-absorbed in personality. Perhaps it is this self-absorption that proves irresistible to our hypothetical professional as she approaches a hypothetical middle age; perhaps, contrary to all of our earlier hypotheses, such a woman is looking for someone who does not need or desire her in any other than a physical way. Perhaps this quality attracts her precisely because, on some level, she wishes she shared it. But here we come close to reducing attraction, infinite in its variety, to a single formula. In understanding what animates erotic desire, we are no closer than were our ancestors, who looked for their answers to the stars.
Members of this dying breed may bear little resemblance to one another. In the wild, however, Integrity recognizes its own by the strong jaws and sharp eyes endemic to the species.
SEE ALSO:
•CONSENSUS •DISCRETION •DIVORCE•FAMILY VALUES •FREEDOM •GRAVITY•MIDLIFE CRISIS •SACRIFICE •VULNERABILITY
INTIMACY
❧
This would be right after the first time they went all the way. Which, just so you know, was Lacey’s first time ever. It was the year after her dad had died all suddenly like that; her mom was going to the city for the day. “You’re in charge, Lacey,” Mrs. Hungate had said—as if that cretin of a little brother of hers would ever let her tell him what to do. Plus when Gabe was around it wasn’t like Lacey had a whole lot of attention left over for anyone else, you know? Picture Lying Tommy telling her he’s going to the library or to volunteer at the orphanage or whatever and then slipping off to do whatever it was he was really doing. Lacey is alone, except for Gabe there with her in that totally amazing house her dad paid for. He’s just been inside her. She hasn’t loved it, exactly, but she loves him, and now they’re lying together with the fall light, that totally clear morning sunlight that comes off the Sound filling up the lace curtains she’s pulled so no one can see in, and all of a sudden, boom, he’s totally there. He’s propped up beside her and he’s fixed her in his eyes like he never does with anyone else. It’s what she lives for, she’ll tell me, that look like he can see right down into you. (As if I would ever have any idea what she was talking about. As if he would ever turn that look on me.) Anyway, he moves. She thinks he’s reaching for another condom from the nightstand, but really he’s grabbing that Sharpie he always carried, and before she can say anything he’s drawing a bird freehand on her upper arm, a hawk I think. And in its claws a heart. Not a valentine heart but like with veins and everything. I know, I know, she showed it to me afterward and I was like, can you get any lamer. But secretly I was jealous. That became their thing, I guess, because sometimes after practice, when the locker room had emptied out, I would catch a glimpse of her all alone in the shower stall, with these wild designs all done in marker on the hidden spaces of her abdomen, the ones that don’t show when your clothes are on. And whatever those bitches told her later, he never brought out the Sharpie for me, which is how I knew we’d made a mistake.
By day, this creature lies motionless near watering holes, where the noise and movement of larger beasts will distract potential predators. Only when night falls does Intimacy awaken and begin its search for sustenance.
SEE ALSO:
•ADOLESCENCE •FIDELITY •GRAVITY•GRIEF •INTEGRITY •LOVE•MATURITY •MOMENT OF CLARITY •PRIVACY•RUMOR •SECRET
IRONY
❧
The new linoleum was the last of the improvements they made to the house that year, and after her son found her husband sprawled on it in the cardiac arrest that would end his life, Marnie wanted to rip it up with her bare hands. She wanted to never walk on it again. She blamed that linoleum, somehow. And she blamed herself, because when she’d called from the city that night to say she’d be getting home late from the alumni dinner and heard the answering machine pick up, she assumed he was out, rather than dying in the kitchen. He still went out often, for a man his age. She had no reason to feel guilty, there was nothing she could have done, was Elizabeth’s take on things. During the first month of widowhood, Marnie walked over to the Hungates’ nearly every night. But the conversations were like television. Afterward, she felt even more lonely. Marnie blamed her own inability to be honest about her feelings about Frank; not for a minute did she think that maybe it had something to do with Elizabeth.
Thanks to modern biotechnology practices, traces of Irony’s DNA are now present in the genome of almost all the other organisms that comprise the North American Family.
SEE ALSO:
•CONSENSUS •DEPRESSION •DISCRETION•FAMILY VALUES •FRIEND OF THE FAMILY •GRIEF•INFIDELITY •MATERIAL •OPTIMISM•PROVIDENCE •SECURITY
LOVE
❧
You’d seen him when they wheeled him in, you would’ve said forty-eight hours to maybe seventy-two at the outside. Even under the sheet on the gurney, you could tell from the way the fluids had begun to seep, like the way grease from a cheesesteak will turn the bag almost clear where it soaks through. Anytime you’re talking about second- or third-degree, you’re talking about a lot of fluid loss. That’s the major danger. Think of a piece of meat that’s been overcooked. That’s all we are, really. Now you have Dr. Ross running around like the Queen of Spain because her case study’s coming out in JAMA. And I’ll give her credit for pioneering the technique—there’s some who won’t, but what do I know about it? But there’s a big difference between keeping someone from dying and giving them a reason to live. And since that seems to be the point of your question, let me just mention his family and that little cheerleader who made the cookies. They were there every day when I came on, and she was there when I went off.
Though hardly the most visible member of its kingdom, Love has never been as endangered as conservationists would have us believe, for without it, the Family would cease to function.
SEE ALSO:
•COMMITMENT •MATERNAL INSTINCT•MOMENT OF CLARITY •PARTINGS•RECONCILIATION •RESIGNATION •YOUTH
MATERIAL
❧
One house, two cars, four sets of clothes, gratuitous quantities of shoes, daily medications, weekly groceries, glossy monthlies, a year’s supply of firewood for the wood-burning stove, a garage worth of tennis rackets and basketballs, a lifetime of cigarettes. Honey can I, Daddy can’t I, Dad why can’t I, won’t you, will you? Please would you write a check, please can I have some cash, please could we put your name down for a small donation? Of course Frank would. He can. He could. For cell phones and PalmPilots and personal computers, he’d shell out. For cornerstones and uniforms and Meals on Wheels for the elderly. These things cost money, but then that’s why he worked. In the end, well, it’s always easier to say yes.
Although Material’s impact on other species continues to puzzle observers, it has proven difficult for any ecosystem to flourish in its absence.
SEE ALSO:
•ADULTHOOD •ENTERTAINMENT•FISCAL RESPONSIBILITY •GUILT •HOME•MORTGAGE •WHATEVER
MATERNAL INSTINCT
❧
There’s a plywood wall, six feet high by ten wide, in the backyard of the house occupied by Elizabeth and Jackie and, until recently (on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other weekend, anyway), Gabe. Elizabeth had it built and, whatever happens to him, will never have it removed, because it is not hers to remove. Moisture off the Sound and extreme temperatures have faded the paint and warped the wood until it curls at the edges like paper. The figures, though, are still visible: faces, flags, birds, bodies, whorls, and jags and the name he chose to represent him, Casper, written over and over. Repetition is how he’d learned. She’d heard the bass booming from behind the closed door of his room. She’d seen the way he’d abandoned the GameCube, the way he stooped over his sketchpad. And she’d figured, at least he wasn’t on drugs, as Marnie Harrison claimed half of the kids at the high school were. She’d figured, better under her own figurative roof than out somewhere doing God knows what, like Marnie’s son. Gabe didn’t have to thank her. The light in his face as he practiced his…what did he call them?…his throw-ups, his burners, was enough.
Maternal Instinct hovers near the top of the food chain. Dominant females, who do the hunting for the herd, have been known to attack creatures as formidable as Rebellion and as insignificant as the smallest Boredom.
SEE ALSO:
•ADOLESCENCE •CUSTODY BATTLE •DEPRESSION•FREEDOM •MIDLIFE CRISIS •NATURE VS. NURTURE•PARTINGS •QUESTIONS, NAGGING •RECOGNITION•SACRIFICE
MATURITY
❧
You know, Alphonse, things could be worse. Mom and Dad are talking again and the little tree we got him from the drugstore by the hospital makes the windowsill look less lonely, even though the thawing doesn’t seem like December and I bet he’s sad he’s missing all the sunshine. Yesterday, Alphonse, he said his first thing since it happened, and do you know what? It wasn’t to Mom or Dad or Lacey. It was to me. He reached out and grabbed my arm right here above the elbow and he said without moving his lips, “Don’t ever grow up.” I bet he would have been smiling if it didn’t hurt to smile. Now you might be wondering what he meant by “Don’t grow up,” but I knew just what he was saying. He was saying, “Don’t ever end up like me,” and do you know what, Alphonse? I don’t think I will!
More retiring than Adulthood, with which it is routinely confused, Maturity is associated with Discretion, Grief, Resignation, and Sacrifice.
SEE ALSO:
•BOREDOM •COMMITMENT •INNOCENCE•LOVE •MATERIAL •PRIVACY•RECONCILIATION •TRADITION
MEANING, SEARCH FOR
❧
Tall tales tommy told: that he held brown belts in tae kwon do and jujitsu. That his dad had let him drive the Porsche when he was only thirteen. That his IQ had been tested at 160. That Gabe Hungate was his best friend. That he and Gabe Hungate were half brothers, blood brothers. That Gabe Hungate had stolen his Roger Clemens rookie card. That he could make a fire by rubbing two sticks together. That he had once moved a spoon a couple inches across a table just by thinking about it. That he had lost his virginity in junior high, at sleepaway camp. That he and his dad went golfing every Saturday. That he had been born in Brooklyn. That he could play electric guitar and was getting one from his dad for his birthday. That his dad made over a million dollars per year. That his dad gave one quarter of his income to charity. That his dad secretly worked for the CIA. That his mother was the former Miss Sheepshead Bay. That his sister was adopted. That he was trying out for linebacker. That he would inherit ten million dollars when he turned eighteen. That he wasn’t high right now. That he had already been accepted at Harvard on account of his precocious SAT scores. That any of this would have mattered, if that was actually his dad buried out there in the cemetery instead of the dummy his dad used to fake his own death before slipping away to Brazil on a top-secret mission the gravity of which only Tommy, his sole confidant, understood.
Although the Search for Meaning is one of the most commonly occurring organisms in the North American Family, identifying it is complicated by its ability to mimic other species, such as Infidelity or Material.
SEE ALSO:
•ANGST •FAMILY VALUES •FRIEND OF THE FAMILY•GUILT •HIERARCHY •INFIDELITY•PROVIDENCE •RECOGNITION •TANTRUM•UNCERTAINTY •WHATEVER
MIDLIFE CRISIS
❧
One of those backyard barbecues toward the end of summer. A season of short-ening days, when the specter of school hangs nearby, daring the kids to name it, to make it real. A season when Japanese lanterns have again become de rigueur. When if, like Elizabeth Hungate in one of her sudden and misguided fevers of trying to change her life, you’ve had your son drag the moldy box of Japanese lanterns from the garage out to the curb, you might curse yourself: you should have known you’d only have to buy them again. After all, everything comes back eventually. Haven’t you witnessed this scene before: the sway of the little colored lanterns in the pool’s unquiet surface? The drone of the air conditioner at the side of the house? The yapping dog next door? The cluster of patio chairs the adults have drawn together and abandoned like toys on the lawn while Jack flips the burgers and Marnie goes to make sure Tommy and Gabe are getting along and Frank goes inside to mix more drinks? Elizabeth has been here before. Returning from the bathroom, she’s paused at the sliding back door, close enough to feel the cool radiating off it. The lightning bugs are out. Gabe floats nonchalant in the pool, fully clothed, his shorts bloated with an air-bubble. He’s gesturing rudely to Lacey, who’s just pushed him in. Lacey she doesn’t know about, but Elizabeth can see that beneath her son’s merciless teasing, he is already half in love with the girl, and it hurts her with a sharpness that almost stops her breathing. Here’s another hurt: though she doesn’t want to, she can feel Frank standing behind her. She wishes she could melt into the glass, become transparent too, a thing people only notice in passing. She wants to tell Gabe never to fall in love. But she won’t. Besides: he always has to learn everything the hard way.
An erratic Maturity pattern characterizes the Midlife Crisis: it may remain a manageable size for years, only to reach its full stature in a few turbulent days.
SEE ALSO:
•ADULTHOOD •DISCRETION •DIVORCE •FAMILY VALUES •GRAVITY •INTEGRITY •MATERNAL INSTINCT •NATURE VS. NURTURE •PARTINGS •VULNERABILITY
MOMENT OF CLARITY
❧
SEE ALSO:
•INNOCENCE •RESIGNATION
MORTGAGE
❧
Jack hasn’t been working since the separation. “On hiatus,” they call it at his firm. He canceled all his appointments an hour before he and Elizabeth sat the kids down to tell them, and then it was the weekend. On Monday he woke up in a hotel room and, for the first time since he passed the New York bar, called in sick. On Tuesday, after a morning spent reading and rereading briefs, trying to make the words mean something, he called a meeting with the senior partners to announce his decision. Of course, they pointed out, with his assets halved and his liabilities considerable, it was either soldier on at work or get used to being poor. He’s stuck with poverty so far—that’s why his new house is only nine hundred square feet. Now he spends his days there, watching TV, cleaning compulsively, gardening, and making furniture.
Many prospective owners adopt a Mortgage as a first step toward the housebreaking of Security.
SEE ALSO:
•CUSTODY BATTLE •DISCRETION •FREEDOM•HOME •MATERIAL •RECONCILIATION•SACRIFICE •TRADITION
MYTHOLOGY
❧
The class spent much of December constructing the N.A. Village. The teacher painted a tarpaulin green to represent Land, leaving a blue margin of Water. There was perfectly good land and water beyond the window of the classroom, Jackie wanted to say, but she was called back to help construct Trees from rolled cardboard and tissue paper, and by the time they moved on to Crops, she’d forgotten. Pumpkins made of modeling clay, cornstalks fashioned from pipe cleaners, tiny clay gourds on pipe cleaner vines
with tissue paper leaves…Crops took forever. Jackie put hers near the Water, for ease of irrigation. Longhouses were easy enough; everyone brought in a shoebox. They spent a day cutting construction paper bark to cover the logos and shoe sizes. The completed Houses were arranged in a circle, not like the Wagons they’d made in the Pioneers unit, but facing in, toward the center of the Village, where the tribal council would meet. People and Animals came last. People: clothespins colored brown, yarn hot-glued on for hair, felt tunics and tools made of toothpicks. Animals: more modeling clay. People went in the Village and Animals went in the Forest. For protection, Jackie erected a Popsicle-stick Stockade. When she leaned down so her head was almost level with the carpet, what she saw was another world. She imagined the People and Animals moving around at night, preparing for an ambush, ravaging the classroom in the dark. Then, a few days before Christmas break, the class gathered in a semicircle around the Village. “Don’t touch,” the teacher said. “This is a solemn occasion.” She passed out notecards marked Trees, People, and Animals. “Jackie, what did I just say?” she said. “A very solemn occasion. You see, this is the world in which the N.A.s lived. Before the Europeans came and razed the Trees. Tree people, come forward,” she said. Kids with Trees notecards were told to remove the Trees from the tarpaulin. “Without the Trees, where did the Animals go?” Jackie asked. The teacher nodded. “Very astute. Animals people, remove the Animals. Without Animals, the People had no source of food. No, they couldn’t eat the Europeans, don’t be silly. People people…” Jackie stood up. Outside, it was winter. The playground was a big, white blank. Already, she could see how it all would stretch away. Uninhabited, the Longhouses would crumble. Sans Houses, Crops, People, Animals, and Trees, only a flat expanse of canvas would remain. And by the end of school, kids would be back in the cubby area staging miniature wrestling matches between the clothespin N.A.s they’d made. They would be reminded to take home their People and Animals, but they would forget, and then they’d get left here: broken Indians, some deer, and a Tree on the muddy floor of the cubby area, everything they’d worked so hard on waiting to be thrown away. She pretended not to feel the other kids staring at her as she began to pluck the Longhouses off the tarpaulin. She pretended not to hear the teacher say, “Jackie? What on earth are you doing?”
A Field Guide to the North American Family Page 4
