Me Being Me Is Exactly as Insane as You Being You

by Todd Hasak-Lowy

  2. 2:54 p.m.—In English class, as part of a poetry unit, Ms. Gleason has them read and discuss the lyrics to Bob Dylan’s “Visions of Johanna.” The first thing they do is just go around the room, everyone reading two lines at a time. One of Darren’s lines is “The ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face,” and even though it was obviously just luck, he has this odd feeling that Nate would be proud of him for getting what is clearly the greatest line in any rock song ever, something he could tell by the way Ms. Gleason, in her red scarf, lights up when she calls his name and asks him to read it.

  3. 3:26 p.m.—Darren tunes his bass and wishes again that he had done a better job convincing Nate to come home for tonight’s concert, even though he understands what it means that Nate has an exam in Stats tomorrow morning that he can’t miss.

  4. 3:29 p.m.—Maggie, probably for the concert tonight, has done something drastic to her hair, which for the first time looks normal and even good. She now has thick, beautiful curls that fall almost to her shoulders. Eight-elevenths of the remaining ensemble members make fun of her in this way (playful and giddy) the group tends to make fun of anything unexpected. Maggie, not blushing even a little bit, instructs her ensemble-mates to eat her. Darren definitely belongs to the three-elevenths of the ensemble that wisely keeps its mouth shut, in part because he immediately starts trying to think of a way to change the position or angle of his chair so that it will be harder to look at her while he’s playing, because now Maggie is attractive in a way that would be much easier to explain to Nate and therefore is very distracting.

  5. 3:59 p.m.—When the ensemble finishes a pretty solid version of “Take the ‘A’ Train,” Mr. Keyes looks at Darren and snaps just for him, because Darren finally agreed last week to take a short solo at the start of “Footprints,” but only because Mr. Keyes kept telling him that he thought a great bass solo right then would really “knock everyone’s socks off.” Only Darren forgets to start playing, and then, when he does start, it just doesn’t sound very good at all. He bets that everyone is looking at him with what Mr. Keyes calls “encouraging eyes,” but Darren just stares at his own feet and thinks about how he would never blow it for Nate in a situation like this.

  3 Parts of What Could Be Considered a Single Phone Conversation That Darren Has with His Frazzled and Apologetic Mom, Who Has to Keep Calling Him Back, Because Cell Phone Reception in North High Totally Blows and They Keep Getting Disconnected

  1. Darren’s walking from ensemble rehearsal to his driving lesson when she first calls, and the timing doesn’t really surprise him, because it’s totally like her to know exactly when there’s a five-minute opening in his schedule.

  “Hi,” Darren says, like the worst receptionist in the history of the planet.

  “Hi, honey,” she says, a little singsongy. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t call you earlier; my flight was almost ninety minutes late.”

  “Oh.”

  “Some kind of ‘mechanical problem with the aircraft.’ Whatever that means. Completely screwed up the whole day, which was going to be crazy to begin with.”

  “Bummer.”

  “The day’s a total disaster at this point. I swear, I’m not exaggerating.” She’s talking superfast, which somehow happens when she’s in California. “Complete and total disaster, I mean—”

  “Mom?”

  “Yeah, sweetie?” She slows down. “How ya doing?”

  “Did you”—there’s no one anywhere in the long hallway, but Darren still wanders to the nearest corner and kind of mumbles—“know about Dad?”

  “Yes. Of course I did.”

  There’s a bunch of black-and-white charcoal drawings hanging on the wall nearby. Of shoes. “How long”—a couple are pretty good, but most of them aren’t—“I mean, when did you . . .”

  “I’ve known for a while.”

  “A while?”

  “I wish your father hadn’t elected to tell you this today. I mean, of all days—”

  “What do you mean, a while?” She doesn’t answer. “What the hell does a while mean?” No answer.

  Darren looks at his phone. They’ve been disconnected. He stands there, trying to decide if he should start walking again, until his phone vibrates again.

  2. “Hey,” Darren grumbles.

  “Hi.”

  No one says anything for two or three seconds.

  “He told me around the time we decided to separate.”

  Darren has started walking back toward the band room, not that he plans to go back inside. “But what? You didn’t, you didn’t, like, know before?”

  Long pause. Darren looks at his phone. Still connected.

  “I wasn’t completely surprised when he told me.”

  “What does that mean?” Darren asks quickly.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated how?”

  “Why don’t . . .” He can hear her exhale. “When I get back, you and I can have a long talk about this. Why don’t we do that? If you want to.”

  “But what’s so complicated? Wasn’t he gay the whole time? It’s not like you just wind up gay all of a sudden.” Darren somehow finds himself in what might be considered an alcove located between a bunch of lockers and a large column, painted blue. “Right?”

  “For a number of years”—pause—“I was under the impression he was bisexual.” Darren adjusts his pants, which feel very hot. “But, I believe it is his intention going forward to date only men.”

  “What?”

  “I know,” she says softly.

  “He’s bisexual?”

  “I believe so. Yes.”

  “Why’d you marry someone bisexual?”

  “Darren, it’s—”

  “Or did you only find out later?”

  “I’m sorry, Darren.”

  “Sorry? You’re sorry?” Now Darren’s talking like he’s in California. “What are you talking about?” Plus, somehow, he’s back by the shoe drawings.

  “I promise, when I get back, I promise to tell you . . . most everything I know about the whole thing, and—”

  “What do you mean, most everything?”

  “Most everything. Because there are certain things that are not for me to tell you.”

  Two girls, giggling and carrying lacrosse sticks, are heading his way. So he starts walking toward them, trying to look normal. “Whatever,” he says as neutrally as he can. He looks at the girls as he passes them, but they don’t seem to notice him. “And then he tells me without Nate. I mean, seriously?”

  “I agree. I would not have told you and your brother separately.”

  “I mean, what the hell?”

  “But it wasn’t my choice to—”

  Stupid-ass cell phones.

  3. Now he’s outside. Not far from the ugly minivan he has to drive in about two minutes. When she calls back, he might not even answer. The phone vibrates.

  “Yeah.”

  Then again, he might.

  “Darren.” Nothing. “Honey. You should ask your father whatever you want about all this. I’m sure he’ll be honest with you.”

  “Awesome.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

  “So this is why you got divorced. Not all that other stuff you told us about.”

  “Sort of, but not . . . It’s not the only reason we got divorced.” Darren’s pants are not cooling down. “But it’s obviously—well, it’s a big part why. A pretty big part.”

  If Darren had a bazooka, he’d take out that minivan. Actually, he’d set the bazooka down, walk over to the minivan, place his phone on the roof, go back to the bazooka, and then take out the minivan. He’d hope for the kind of hit where the minivan doesn’t just explode, but also lifts in the air and then flips over and comes down on its back.

  “It’s very complicated.”

  “Fine.”

  Long pause. Pants possibly beginning to cool down.

  “How was the rest of your day?”

  Darren elects to ign
ore this.

  “Well. The weather here, today, it’s so magnificent. It’s such a shame . . . Oh wait, damn it. If this is who I think it is . . . Yep, damn it, I’ve got to take this. But listen, honey, I’m so sorry I’m not there. I promise, we’ll talk about this after your concert. Which I can’t believe I’m missing. And, and I’m so excited for you that you’re going to see Nate tomorrow. You two will have a blast, I’m sure. Even after all this, I’m sure you will. I love you, okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Bye.”

  12 Words That Darren Was Able to Guess Today Before Mr. Gibbs Actually Said Them

  1. Germans

  2. Appeasement

  3. Surprise

  4. Well

  5. Sudetenland

  6. Situation

  7. Sure

  8. Idea

  9. Mussolini

  10. Chicken

  11. Inevitable

  12. Monday

  4 Unpleasant Feelings or Thoughts Darren Feels or Thinks (Often More Than Once) during Today’s Driving Lessons

  1. In general he already feels bigger than he wants to feel, and when he buckles himself into the driver’s seat and starts making the car move, he feels how the car is an extension of himself, which is actually, for some stupid reason, how Mr. Faber, the driving teacher, tells him to think about the whole thing. Plus he’s driving a Chrysler Town & Country minivan, which seems like a pretty fat car to him.

  2. Whenever he’s had a bad day, Darren likes to be in the car with one of his parents or Nate driving, because then he can just stare out the window and not even really bother moving his eyes. And so today, which is obviously a total shit day, has him worried he’ll stare out the window, not move his eyes, and accidentally kill someone, including maybe himself.

  3. Even though all the kids his age can’t stop talking about how awesome it will be once they can drive, Darren just doesn’t want to drive, not yet, anyway. He a little bit tried to put off going to driving school, but Bugs was right that his parents definitely wanted him to be able to drive as soon as possible, meaning that every time he drives, like right now, he realizes just how much his parents can’t deal with each other anymore.

  4. He knows that sooner or later he’ll run over an animal, which in fact he nearly does just before the end of today’s lesson, when an idiot squirrel darts halfway across Lake but thankfully changes its mind a split second before Darren and the minivan would have squashed it. Even so, Darren just about pukes right there in the minivan.

  10 Significant Implications of the New Situation Darren Considers While Staring out of a CTA Bus Window, Which Causes Him to Totally Miss His Stop and Have to Walk More Than Half a Mile to Get Home

  1. There must be a lot of kids who have a mom or dad who is actually gay but who (the kids, or maybe even the mom or dad too) don’t know it yet (and maybe never will?).

  2. So that’s why Mike and maybe that guy Gary are at his dad’s place all the time, not because they like the Cubs, or not only because of that (since Mike at least does seem kind of fanatical about them).

  3. His dad has probably had gay sex. Maybe even last night or this morning. Probably not this morning, though, since he got up pretty early to come over to the house.

  4. Darren might be a total moron for having absolutely no idea about any of this, even though he’s pretty sure Nate and maybe even his mom didn’t either.

  5. Unless Nate and/or she did have some idea, which would then mean he/she/they decided not to tell Darren.

  6. It’s completely unclear if the whole concept of bisexuality, whatever that means, exactly, would make any of this any better at all, assuming it could be applied to his dad.

  7. Darren’s pretty sure he’s not gay himself, but if homosexuality is inherited—which he’s pretty sure it isn’t, but still, it could be, who the hell knows—maybe he’ll only realize he’s gay thirty years from now, unless his dad has known for a really long time, which would be pretty pathetic.

  8. Darren will probably have to discuss all this with his dad and Dr. Schrier (his dad’s therapist, who his dad basically worships) at least a couple times, since his dad is always trying to get Darren to come with him to Dr. Schrier’s anyway, which maybe in this case wouldn’t be so bad, since his dad pretty much invites Darren to be mad at him, or at least complain, whenever they’re at Dr. Schrier’s office.

  9. Maybe this explains why his mom started being extra impatient with and sometimes even mean to his dad about a month after they officially split up, because before then they were at least very polite with each other most of the time, but then that sort of just stopped being the case with his mom, who it’s kind of impossible to know what she even thinks about the whole thing, because it’s not like she’d want to be with him anyway at this point, but still, it’s got to feel pretty weird to know you were married to someone for so long who doesn’t (and maybe even didn’t ever really) like your gender, in a sexual way, in the first place. Even though you definitely had sex, maybe a lot of times, even.

  10. It’s probably hard to be gay (or at least to admit that you’re gay and then have to deal with people about it), but then his dad has seemed happier recently than he used to, and this likely has something to do with admitting and accepting it.

  6 Items or Sets of Items or Even Absent Items in His Dad’s Apartment That Somehow Look Totally Different to Darren Than They Did Before

  1. The elephant-headed Hindu statue thing sitting on top of the stereo

  2. About ten books on the small shelf near the stereo, with titles like Being Present in the Darkness, Self-Compassion: Stop Beating Yourself Up and Leave Insecurity Behind, Radical Self-Acceptance, When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times, and Suffering Is Optional: Three Keys to Freedom and Joy

  3. An elaborate, slanted wooden candle holder resting on the windowsill in the living room that looks like the kind of thing you’d see on the most boring page of the SkyMall magazine

  4. A photograph on the refrigerator of his dad and three other guys (Mike, Gary, and some guy wearing a fanny pack whose name Darren can’t remember) at the end of some wooden pier with the sun setting off to the right of his dad and the water totally still and smooth and dark, dark blue, with everyone looking not so much happy as just really, really content

  5. Top-of-the-line wheatgrass juicer sitting on the kitchen counter, which his dad uses pretty much every day Darren is with him but somehow looks pretty much brand-new anyway

  6. Total lack of any dirt or dust or mess anywhere, even though his dad was kind of sloppy sometimes back when he lived at home, especially in terms of leaving his shoes everywhere and being pretty bad at cleaning up the kitchen

  5 Objects Darren Begins to Imagine That He’d Definitely Find Somewhere on the Other Side of His Dad’s Bedroom Door That Keep Darren from Opening It

  1. A journal sitting right there on his nightstand

  2. Various half-empty tubes of lubricant in the drawer of this nightstand

  3. Some hair on one of the pillows (though his dad is totally bald these days)

  4. An iPod docking thing with an iPod next to it that’s filled with playlists called things like “Just Us” or “Sweet and Slow” or “Come to Me”

  5. A small, locked wooden chest on the floor of the closet that Darren would pretty easily figure out how to open with a screwdriver and that would be filled with books and photographs and even DVDs that would basically scar Darren for years, or at least freak him out so much that he’s kind of freaked out already and so there’s just absolutely no way he’s going in there

  7 Mentions of the Word “Fuck” (or Related Forms) during (or Immediately after) Darren and Nate’s Phone Call, Which Takes Place in Darren’s Room at His Dad’s Apartment, Where His Dad Thankfully Isn’t

  1. “What the fuck?” Darren asks.

  “Dude,” Nate says.

  2. “Seriously, man, what the fuck?” Darren asks, or maybe he just says it this time.


  “Ditto,” Nate says.

  3. “No,” Darren says. “I’m serious. What the fuck?”

  “I’m sorry, but could you rephrase that in the form of a yes-or-no question?”

  4. “Nate, man, c’mon. Our dad’s gay. Dad’s fucking gay!”

  “That does appear to be the case. Assuming he’s not trying to fool us. But wait, what if it’s all a strange ploy designed to—”

  “Stop it, man, I’m serious. Why aren’t you freaking out?”

  “Who says I’m not freaking out?”

  “Are you?” Darren asks.

  “Maybe. A little.”

  “Dad’s gay.”

  “This is true. Dad is, it turns out, a BJ machine—”

  “Shut up, Nate. Do not—”

  “You’re right. It’s quite possible that some gay men, like some of the supposedly straight women here at the University of Michigan, are not great fans of the BJ.”

  Darren almost laughs.

  “I talked to Mom,” Darren says.

  “Lucky you.”

  “She said she’s known for a while.”

  “And I thought she couldn’t keep a secret.”

  5. “Nate, man, what the fuck?”

  6. “What the fuck, indeed, little brother.”

  “Have you told anyone?”

  “No, I figured posting it on Facebook would spare me the effort.”

  “Ha. I’m serious. Have you?”

  “Not yet. I’ll maybe tell Kyle tonight. Look, my study partner, whose sexual orientation I’m suddenly not so sure of, is pulling up. I’ll call you later.”

  Darren hurls his phone at his bed and stands in the middle of the room for eleven long seconds with no idea what he should do next.

  Eventually he removes an enormous green, cylindrical bin from his closet, a bin he’s had since he was four. It’s filled with about two thousand Lego pieces and was Darren’s favorite and most-used toy for over six years starting in first grade. Still, it was almost given away a half-dozen times over the past couple years.