“Every word,” the lady says. “To me they’re like nuggets of gold.”
“Ha ha,” says Marty, and gives her a long loving scratch on the back, and takes a drink of Squirt and starts shrieking again.
“So anyways, do what they ask!” he shrieks. “Don’t you know how much we love you here at home, and want you to succeed? As for them, the big-wigs you wrote me about, freak them big-wigs! Just do what they ask though. In your own private mind, think what you like, only do what they ask, so they like you. And in this way, you will succeed. As for the little-wigs you mentioned, just how little are they? You didn’t mention that. Are they a lot littler wig than you? In that case, freak them, ignore them if they talk to you, and if they don’t talk to you, go up and start talking to them, sort of bossing them around, you know, so they don’t start thinking they’re the boss of you. But if they’re the same wig as you, be careful, son! Don’t piss them off, don’t act like you’re the boss of them, but also don’t bend over for some little shit who’s merely the same wig as you, or else he’ll assume you’re a smaller wig than you really actually are. As for friends, sure, friends are great, go ahead and make friends, they’re a real blessing, only try to avoid making friends with boys who are the same or lesser wig than you. Only make friends with boys who are bigger wigs than you, assuming they’ll have you, which probably they won’t. Because why should they? Who are you? You’re a smaller wig than them. Although then again, they might be slumming, which would be good for you, you could sneak right in there.”
Marty gives me a little wave, then resumes shrieking.
“I don’t want to put the pressure on, son,” he says. “I know you got enough pressure, with school being so hard and all, and you even having to make your own book covers because of our money crunch, so I don’t want to put on extra pressure by saying that the family honor is at stake, but guess what pal, it is! You’re it, kid! You’re as good as we got. Think of it, me and your mother, and Paw-Paw and Mee-Maw, and Great Paw-Paw, who came over here from wherever he was before, in some kind of boat, and fixed shoes all his life in a shack or whatever? Remember that? Why’d he do that? So you could eventually be born! Think of that! All those years of laundry and stuffing their faces and plodding to the market and making love and pushing out the babies and so on, and what’s the upshot? You, pal, you’re the freaking upshot. And now there you are, in boarding school, what a privilege, the first one of us to do it, so all’s I’m saying is, do your best and don’t take no shit from nobody, unless taking shit from them is part of your master plan to get the best of them by tricking them into being your friend. Just always remember who you are, son, you’re a Kusacki, my only son, and I love you. Ack, I’m getting mushy here.”
“You’re doing great,” says the lady.
“So much to say,” he says.
“And Jeannine sends her love too,” says the lady.
“And Jeannine sends her love too,” he says. “For crissake’s sake, Jeannine, write it down if you want to say it. I don’t have to say it for you to write it. Just write it. You’re my wife.”
“I’m not your wife,” says Jeannine.
“You are to me,” says Marty, and she sort of leans into him and he takes another slug of the Squirt.
I buy Janet some smokes and mints and me a Kayo.
I really like Kayo.
“Hey, you hear about Dave Wolley?” Marty says to me. “Dave Wolley from Wise Mountain Hermit? You know him? You know Dave?”
I know Dave very well. Dave was part of the group that used to meet for the barbecues at Russian Peasant Farm.
“Well, wave bye-bye to Dave,” Marty says. “Wise Mountain Hermit is kaput. Dave is kaput.”
“I’ve never seen Dave so upset,” says Jeannine.
“He was very freaking upset,” says Marty. “Who wouldn’t be? He was superdedicated.”
Dave was superdedicated. He grew his own beard long instead of wearing a fake and even when on vacation went around barefoot to make his feet look more like the feet of an actual mountain ascetic.
“The problem is, Wise Mountain Hermit was too far off the beaten path,” Marty says. “Like all you Remotes. All you Remotes, you’re too far off the beaten path. Think about it. These days we got very few Guests to begin with, which means we got even fewer Guests willing to walk way the hell up here to see you Remotes. Right? Am I right?”
“You are absolutely right,” says Jeannine.
“I am absolutely right,” says Marty. “Although I am not happy about being absolutely right, because if you think of it, if you Remotes go kaput, where am I? It’s you Remotes I’m servicing. See? Right? Give him his mints. Make change for the poor guy. He’s got to get back to work.”
“Have a good one,” says Jeannine, and makes my change.
It’s sad about Dave. Also it’s worrisome. Because Wise Mountain Hermit was no more Remote than we are, plus it was much more popular, because Dave was so good at dispensing ad-libbed sage advice.
I walk down the path to the Refuse Center and weigh our Human Refuse. I put the paperwork and the fee in the box labeled Paperwork and Fees. I toss the trash in the dumpster labeled Trash, and the Human Refuse in the dumpster labeled Caution Human Refuse, then sit against a tree and drink my Kayo.
8.
Next morning in the Big Slot is a goat and in the Little Slot a rabbit and a note addressed to Distribution:
Please accept this extra food as a token of what our esteem is like, the note says. Please know that each one of you is very special to us, and are never forgotten about. Please know that if each one of you could be kept, you would be, if that would benefit everyone. But it wouldn’t, or we would do it, wouldn’t we, we would keep every one of you. But as we meld into our sleeker new organization, what an excellent opportunity to adjust our Staff Mix. And so, although in this time of scarcity and challenge, some must perhaps go, the upside of this is, some must stay, and perhaps it will be you. Let us hope it will be you, each and every one of you, but no, as stated previously, it won’t, that is impossible. So just enjoy the treats provided, and don’t worry, and wait for your supervisor to contact you, and if he or she doesn’t, know with relief that the Staff Remixing has passed by your door. Although it is only honest to inform you that some who make the first pass may indeed be removed in the second, or maybe even a third, depending on how the Remixing goes, although if anyone is removed in both the first and second pass, that will be a redundant screw-up, please ignore. We will only remove each of you once. If that many times! Some of you will be removed never, the better ones of you. But we find ourselves in a too-many-Indians situation and so must first cut some Indians and then, later, possibly, some chiefs. But not yet, because that is harder, because that is us. Soon, but not yet, we have to decide which of us to remove, and that is so very hard, because we are so very useful. Not that we are saying we chiefs are more useful than you Indians, but certainly we do make some very difficult decisions that perhaps you Indians would find hard to make, keeping you up nights, such as which of you to remove. But don’t worry about us, we’ve been doing this for years, only first and foremost remember that what we are doing, all of us, chiefs and Indians both, is a fun privilege, how many would like to do what we do, in the entertainment field.
Which I guess explains about Dave Wolley.
“Jeez,” says Janet. “Let the freaking canning begin.”
I give her a look.
“Oh all right all right,” she says. “Ooga mooga. Ooga ooga mooga. Is that better?”
She can be as snotty as she likes but a Remixing is nothing to sneeze at.
I skin and roast the goat and rabbit. After breakfast she puts on her Walkman and starts a letter to her sister: very verboten. I work on the pictographs. I mean I kneel while pretending to paint them by dipping my crude dry brush into the splotches of hard colorful plastic meant to look like paint made from squashed berries.
Around noon the fax in my Separate Area makes the sound
it makes when a fax is coming in.
Getting it would require leaving the cave and entering my Separate Area during working hours.
“Christ, go get it,” Janet says. “Are you nuts? It might be from Louise.”
I go get it.
It’s from Louise.
Nelson doing better today, it says. Not much new swelling. Played trucks and ate 3 pcs bologna. Asked about you. No temperature, good range of motion in both legs and arms. Visa is up to $6800, should I transfer to new card w/ lower interest rate?
Sounds good, I fax back. How are other kids?
Kids are kids are kids, she faxes back. Driving me nuts. Always talking.
Miss you, I fax, and she faxes back the necessary Signature Card.
I sign the card. I fax the card.
Nelson’s three. Three months ago his muscles stiffened up. The medicine they put him on to loosen his muscles did somewhat loosen them, but also it caused his muscles to swell. Otherwise he’s fine, only he’s stiff and swollen and it hurts when he moves. They have a name for what they originally thought he had, but when the medication made him swell up, Dr. Evans had to admit that whatever he had, it wasn’t what they’d originally thought it was.
So we’re watching him closely.
I return to the cave.
“How are things?” Janet says.
I grimace.
“Well, shit,” she says. “You know I’m freaking rooting for you guys.”
Sometimes she can be pretty nice.
9.
First thing next morning Greg Nordstrom pokes his head in and asks me to brunch.
Which is a first.
“How about me?” says Janet.
“Ha ha!” says Nordstrom. “Not you. Not today. Maybe soon, however!”
I follow him out.
Very bright sun.
About fifty feet from the cave there’s a red paper screen that says Patience! Under Construction, and we go behind it.
“You’ll be getting your proxy forms in your Slot soon,” he says, spreading out some bagels on a blanket. “Fill out the proxy as you see fit, everything’s fine, just vote, do it boldly, exert your choice, it has to do with your stock option. Are you vested? Great to be vested. Just wait until you are. It really feels like a Benefit.You’ll see why they call Benefits Benefits, when every month, ka-ching, that option money kicks up a notch. Man, we’re lucky.”
“Yes,” I say.
“I am and you are,” he says. “Not everyone is. Some aren’t. Those being removed in the Staff Remixing, no. But you’re not being removed. At least I don’t think so. Now Janet, I have some concerns about Janet, I don’t know what they’re going to do about Janet. It’s not me, it’s them, but what can I do? How is she? Is she okay? How have you found her? I want you to speak frankly. Are there problems? Problems we can maybe help correct? How is she? Nice? Reliable? It’s not negative to point out a defect. Actually, it’s positive, because then the defect can be fixed. What’s negative is to withhold valuable info. Are you? Withholding valuable info? I hope not. Are you being negative? Is she a bit of a pain? Please tell me. I want you to. If you admit she’s a bit of a pain, I’ll write down how positive you were. Look, you know and I know she’s got some performance issues, so what an exciting opportunity, for you to admit it and me to hear it loud and clear. Super!”
For six years she’s been telling me about her Pap smears and her kid in rehab and her mother in Fort Wayne who has a bad valve and can’t stand up or her lungs fill with blood etc. etc.
“I haven’t really noticed any problems,” I say.
“Blah blah blah,” he says. “What kind of praise is that? Empty praise? Is it empty praise? I’d caution against empty praise. Because empty praise is what? Is like what? Is a lie. And a lie is what? Is negative. You’re like the opposite of that little boy who cried Wolf. You’re like that little boy who cried No Wolf, when a wolf was in fact chewing on his leg, by the name of Janet. Because what have I recently seen? Having seen your Daily Partner Performance Evaluation Forms, I haven’t seen on them a single discouraging word. Not one. Did you ever note a single attitudinal difficulty? You did not. How did you rate your Partner overall? Very good, always, every single day. Were there ever any Situations which required Mediation? There were not, even when, in one instance, she told a guy where you folks pooped. In English. In the cave. I have documentation, because I read that guy’s Client Vignette Evaluation.”
It gets very quiet. The wind blows and the paper screen tips up a bit. The bagels look good but we’re not eating them.
“Look,” he says. “I know it’s hard to be objective about people we come to daily know, but in the big picture, who benefits when the truth is not told? Does Janet? How can Janet know she’s not being her best self if someone doesn’t tell her, then right away afterwards harshly discipline her? And with Janet not being her best self, is the organization healthier? And with the organization not being healthier, and the organization being that thing that ultimately puts the food in your face, you can easily see that, by lying about Janet’s behavior, you are taking the food out of your own face. Who puts the cash in your hand to buy that food in your face? We do. What do we want of you? We want you to tell the truth. That’s it. That is all.”
We sit awhile in silence.
“Very simple,” he says. “A nonbrainer.”
A white fuzzy thing lands in my arm hair. I pick it out.
Down it falls.
“Sad,” he says.“Sad is all it is. We live in a beautiful world, full of beautiful challenges and flowers and birds and super people, but also a few regrettable bad apples, such as that questionable Janet. Do I hate her? Do I want her killed? Gosh no, I think she’s super, I want her to be praised while getting a hot oil massage, she has some very nice traits. But guess what, I’m not paying her to have nice traits, I’m paying her to do consistently good work. Is she? Doing consistently good work? She is not. And here are you, saddled with a subpar colleague. Poor you. She’s stopping your rise and growth. People are talking about you in our lounge. Look, I know you feel Janet’s not so great. She’s a lump to you. I see it in your eye. And that must chafe. Because you are good. Very good. One of our best. And she’s bad, very bad, one of our worst, sometimes I could just slap her for what she’s doing to you.”
“She’s a friend,” I say.
“You know what it’s like, to me?” he says. “The Bible. Remember that part in the Bible when Christ or God says that any group or organization of two or more of us is a body? I think that is so true. Our body has a rotten toe by the name of Janet, who is turning black and stinking up the joint, and next to that bad stinking toe lives her friend the good nonstinker toe, who for some reason insists on holding its tongue, if a toe can be said to have a tongue. Speak up, little toe, let the brain know the state of the rot, so we can rush down what is necessary to stop Janet from stinking. What will be needed? We do not yet know. Maybe some antiseptic, maybe a nice sharp saw with which to lop off Janet. For us to know, what must you do? Tell the truth. Start generating frank and nonbiased assessments of this subpar colleague. That’s it. That is all. Did you or did you not in your Employment Agreement agree to complete, every day, an accurate Daily Partner Performance Evaluation Form? You did. You signed in triplicate. I have a copy in my dossier. But enough mean and sad talk, I know my point has been gotten. Gotten by you. Now for the fun. The eating. Eating the good food I have broughten. That’s fun, isn’t it? I think that’s fun.”
We start to eat. It’s fun.
“Broughten,” he says. “The good food I have broughten. Is it brought or broughten?”
“Brought,” I say.
“The good food I have brought,” he says. “Broughten.”
10.
Back in the cave Janet’s made a nice fire.
“So what did numbnuts want?” she says. “Are you fired?”
I shake my head no.
“Is he in love with you?” she says. “Does he
want to go out with you?”
I shake my head no.
“Is he in love with me?” she says. “Does he want to go out with me? Am I fired?”
I do not shake my head no.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute, go back,” she says. “I’m fired?”
I shake my head no.
“But I’m in the shit?” she says. “I’m somewhat in the shit?”
I shrug.
“Will you freaking talk to me?” she says.“This is important. Don’t be a dick for once.”
I do not consider myself a dick and I do not appreciate being called a dick, in the cave, in English, and the truth is, if she would try a little harder not to talk in the cave, she would not be so much in the shit.
I hold up one finger, like: Wait a sec. Then I go into my Separate Area and write her a note:
Nordstrom is unhappy with you, it says. And unhappy with me because I have been lying for you on my DPPEFs. So I am going to start telling the truth.And as you know, if I tell the truth about you, you will be a goner, unless you start acting better. Therefore please start acting better. Sorry I couldn’t say this in the cave, but as you know, we are not supposed to speak English in the cave. I enjoy working with you. We just have to get this thing straightened out.
Sitting on her log she reads my note.
“Time to pull head out of ass, I guess,” she says. I give her a thumbs-up.
11.
Next morning I go to the Big Slot and find it goatless. Also there is no note.
Janet comes out and hands me a note and makes, very quickly, a nice little fire.
I really apreciate what you did, her note says. That you tole me the truth.Your a real pal and are going to see how good I can be.
For breakfast I count out twenty Reserve Crackers each. Afterward I work on the pictographs and she pretends to catch and eat small bugs. For lunch I count out twenty Reserve Crackers each. After lunch I pretend to sharpen my spear and she sits at my feet speaking long strings of unintelligible sounds.
Pastoralia Page 2
