Donorboy

by Halpin, Brendan;

  Anyway, since Charlesborough is smoke free I can’t smoke in the diner, and so if I have to go outside to smoke that kind of defeats the purpose of being there and being social, and that leaves home, but I don’t really want Sean’s crappy lectures anymore.

  The amazing thing I have to say is that today I don’t feel terrible. One thing is that Kate gave me this painting she did of the girl in the glass cage, and it is really good, and she was like I think you should have it and thank you for taking me there because I got inspired and now I go there all the time to sketch. All I could think is that she and Sean are going to see each other there and that would be pretty funny. Anyway, I really like Kate’s painting. It looks cool except that the glass is kind of breaking, and I was like what is that, and she was like well, I felt bad for her so I decided to bust her out of her cage. I am a dork so I asked if she really did because that would mean she was breaking shit at the cemetery, but she was like no, I just did it in the painting and I felt like a total geek.

  Which I guess if I can feel like a geek or like worry about feeling like a geek that is almost a normal thing, and like I said I feel like a pretty good imitation normal person today. I miss my moms but I don’t feel like shit. I didn’t do my homework, but I don’t feel like crying, I just feel like somebody who had a day today instead of some sad girl who dragged her sorry ass through the day which is good, but I guess I worry a little bit about losing my sadness like Lisa said because that’s sort of what I have that connects me to Mom and Mommy. Even though they would have been “in a state” if I had been all sad while they were alive, and they would want me to be happy, which I think is what Karen said to me when she was weeping one day, but anyway.

  So the only bad thing is that I have like fries and a coke or now that it is getting a little nippy I will get a cup of coffee because that is a pretty good pose too but not as bad for you as smoking even though it gives you bad breath too.

  But so I get home and I want something decent to eat, and all we have is this frozen vegan shit, which is okay and even good, but it doesn’t feel like real food and even though I told Sean we always used to eat like this, I remember that we did at least used to have a real dinner on like Saturday or something, and we have basically never had one here.

  So, anyway, I cooked dinner, which was not a big deal, it was some recipe in some hippie cookbook that Sean strangely has even though he obviously never cooks, since finding a pot was a big challenge, but anyway, I didn’t think it was a big deal, just some stuff from cans that I mixed together in a pot, but Sean just about cried, actually I think he did cry because he said he wanted to wash his hands but then came back all red-eyed, so either he got high in the bathroom which I doubt or else he was crying for some reason. He was all like, “wow! this is really great! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it!” and then he kept saying that stuff over and over.

  I kind of can’t stand him when he is all goopy like that. And maybe that is why the babes do not hang around, because it’s like he’s this puppy dog that you kind of want to kick, which is a mean thing for me to say about him, and maybe I should stop but then again saying mean shit about your parents is I guess what normal kids do so there we go he is a goober.

  Rosalind—

  Under this note you will find a stack of vegetarian cookbooks. You should, of course, feel free to never look at them. I certainly didn’t bring you here to cook. Unless, you know, you want to. So, if you want to, I thought I would facilitate that for you by adding to our pathetic stock of one cookbook. (This gem from the 1970s was left in my childhood home by one of my dad’s girlfriends. When I left home, I harbored some illusions that I might someday learn to cook, so I took our only cookbook. I am fairly certain that Dad never noticed.) This cookbook is entertaining as an artifact of the 1970s—please check out (and, hopefully, mock) the ENTIRE CHAPTER about how “smoking grass before a meal brings you closer to the essence of the food,” and subsequent recipes for stoners with the munchies. Most of these seem to involve at least a pound of cheese, which apparently was the vegetarian standard in the 1970s.

  So, in any case, if you find that you enjoy cooking, here are some cookbooks (and, in the refrigerator, you will find some actual vegetables that have not been processed into a frozen or boxed entrée). I paged through some of them and found some recipes that might be likely Thanksgiving winners (I have decided to forgo the pathetic bachelor-size Butterball in honor of your vegetarianism). I thought we might spend the day cooking some wild rice and cranberry casseroles. Or something. Failing that, I also bought the full Tofurky meal, which I must confess sounds vile, but I do think it’s important to have a backup plan.

  Out of room on this paper and going on too much anyway. Lawyer.

  —Sean

  To: Sean_Cassidy@publaw.org

  From: Rosalind90@aol.com

  Subject: Thanks

  Hey there, I got home from school a while ago and I wanted to say thanks for the cookbooks. I did not notice the weed chapter before you pointed it out, so now I am going to try it so I can get closer to the essence of my food. Don’t have a heart attack, I am just joking.

  Anyway, you were right that that was super cheesy and not just because every recipe has cheese in it, ha-ha. I am looking through all these and thinking about eating all this stuff, which is kind of a fun thing to do especially because no offense, but the stuff that comes wrapped in plastic was starting to get a little old.

  Anyway, thank you, and don’t worry I don’t think you are trying to make me the scullery wench. Even though that is a pretty good phrase.

  —R

  To: Karenzallrite@msn.com

  From: Sean_Cassidy@publaw.org

  Subject: Rosalind—please read before deleting

  Dear Karen:

  Hello. I hope you are well.

  I went to Forest Hills a few days ago to visit Sandy and Eva’s graves, and, though this is not why I’m telling you this, I will say that I think you did a fantastic job picking the stones. They look great, and really put the others in that section to shame. Which, of course, is not why one buys a nice stone, but I am nervous and therefore babbling. Please bear with me.

  So I went to Forest Hills not only to see the stones, but to ask Sandy and Eva for some assistance with Rosalind. I did not receive any direct response, but today it struck me that I was foolish to ask Sandy and Eva for assistance when you, being alive, are in a much better position to help. I hope that didn’t sound flippant. I didn’t intend it to.

  This is obviously difficult for me. I understand that you were/are angry about my taking custody, and I know that our contact around Rosalind’s nocturnal adventures was less than cordial. Still, we do both love Rosalind and want the best for her, even if we may disagree about what might constitute the best.

  I know that you have been an important presence in Rosalind’s life, and I am convinced that her dread at disappointing you has been a consistent positive force for her. Still, the fact remains that we have here a young woman who is having a very difficult time and making some bad decisions. I think it’s to her benefit if we talk to each other about her rather than trying to glean whatever information we can by talking to her.

  I guess I just feel that while I could certainly use some helpful insights, Rosalind would also benefit from having the adults in her life be on the same page.

  Please let me know what you think, and thank you in advance.

  —Sean

  To: Sean_Cassidy@publaw.org

  From: Karenzallrite@msn.com

  Subject: Re: Rosalind—please read before deleting

  Sean—

  Okay. Much as it pains me to admit this, I do think you are right. I worry about Rosalind all the time, and I would like to hear something from another adult, even yourself.

  Sorry. That sounded petty because it was. So before we start working together, as it were, I really feel that I need to clear the decks emotionally. Otherwise, I will just be continuing to take potshots
at you as a way of venting the anger I haven’t fully assimilated.

  So, let me say that I think your taking Rosalind was incredibly selfish. I don’t think it’s best for her, and I don’t think it’s what Sandy and Eva would have wanted. I think it’s incredibly arrogant for you to assume that the fact that you provided some ejaculate fifteen years ago makes you in any way qualified to act as a parent to a child you don’t already know. Especially, I’m sorry, but here it is, when there is someone who has known her her whole life who’s willing and ready to take her. If I didn’t care for her so much, I’d tell you to suffer on your own and go to hell.

  As it is, you have selfishly, arrogantly, and unjustly taken this child that I care very deeply for, and my feelings for her need to take precedence over my feelings for you.

  All right. Now that that is behind us, I can say that I am very concerned about what Rosalind is telling me, or not telling me. She seems to be drifting away from Sasha and her other friends, but she hasn’t said anything about who or what is taking their place. Frankly, I’m afraid she’s in the thrall of some kind of abusive boyfriend or something—someone or something who can occupy so much of her mental space that she can forget about her grief. Did you know that forty percent of people who join cults are recently bereaved? I don’t think that’s an accident. There’s a hole in her life right now, and I would really like to know what’s filling it, but she won’t tell me.

  I guess that’s about all I have for you right now, but I’d be interested to hear anything you have to say.

  —Karen

  To: Karenzallrite@msn.com

  From: Sean_Cassidy@publaw.org

  Subject: Re: Re: Rosalind—please read before deleting

  Karen—

  I appreciate very much your willingness to set our differences aside and proceed with the job of cooperating for Rosalind’s benefit. I also do actually appreciate your willingness to put your feelings in the open rather than just taking digs at me for years. I don’t want to get into a long debate about what you’ve said about me, but I guess I do have to say that I must cop to a certain degree of selfishness on my part. I am a single, childless (well, I used to be, after a fashion) man in my mid-thirties, and, if I am honest, I suppose I thought and still think that raising Rosalind, even for a few years, will give my life some meaning and importance that it doesn’t otherwise seem to have. I know that you and I are of an age and similar in our positions in life, and I suppose I would just say I would be surprised if you didn’t, on some level, have some of the same motivations. Or perhaps I just assume that everyone else shares my own failings. After saying that I wouldn’t respond at length, I find that I have, and so I suppose under the rules of engagement here, you are entitled to respond to my response. And then, hopefully, we can really put this behind us.

  So—I have gone on at length about something I claimed I didn’t want to talk about because I have so little information about what I do want to talk about. Here are some facts I have:

  1. Rosalind has taken up smoking. Camel Reds—very fashionable.

  2. Rosalind has been grounded since she and Sasha sneaked out of Sasha’s house during a sleepover a week and a half ago.

  3. Rosalind has begun cooking dinner every night, and when I get home from work, I frequently find the TV set to the Food Network. I have no idea what this information means.

  4. I don’t believe that many boys are calling here, though I have not taken the step of examining the incoming calls on her cell phone. This, by the way, reflects a lack of opportunity on my part rather than any kind of grand principle, as I no longer confiscate her phone the minute she walks in the door.

  5. Having said that, I am not a hundred percent sure what she does with her after-school time. Except, as I suggested earlier, the evidence points to Emeril.

  Thanks again, and I will continue to let you know what, if anything, I find out. You do the same, and thank you.

  —Sean

  To: Rosalind90@aol.com

  From: Karenzallrite@msn.com

  Subject: Thanksgiving

  Hey Ros—I totally forgot when we spoke last night to talk to you about Thanksgiving. As usual, I won’t be returning to the family compound in Cincinnati. I am going to attempt the famous Butter-field family jello salad, and I have laid in all kinds of provisions. If you feel like spending the night, I’ve got some videos which we can watch while eating my famous pumpkin pie. Anyway, I know that the holidays are a tough time—already I feel a certain amount of sadness about the fact that we won’t have your moms here for Thanksgiving, but I know that you and I can get through it together.

  Love,

  Karen

  Dear Fluffy:

  Well, I appear to have a bit of a conundrum here, or possibly I am impaled on the horns of the dilemma. This is why I am still passing English. Actually I haven’t told anybody but I might actually get a B because Westerberg stopped me after class again which I hate and was like, look I know you read everything because of what you say in class, if you write me an essay I will give you a B minus even though you haven’t done any of the other ones, and I don’t know if he can do that but what the hell. I actually kind of liked To Kill a Mockingbird even though I was crying at the end like Sean or anyway some female dork with the kids and their dad all “Thank you for my children Arthur.” But anyway I am thinking about writing the stupid essay like I said so I can not hear any more bullshit about how I’m failing everything we’re so worried about you do you need a theraputic setting.

  But anyway I was talking about my conundrum which is now I have two people expecting me for Thanksgiving and I don’t really want to see either one of them but I have to pick one and then hurt the other one’s feelings. At least Grandma isn’t expecting me in Tampa and who knows whatever happened to Uncle Mike. If I stay here I will more than likely have Sean still going all googly about cooking, which he’s been getting better about but whatever. Lisa says he is just happy that I am showing some interest in something that is not getting wasted or whatever but it’s not like I am really that interested, I just like the way I can just kind of forget about myself for a few minutes while I am thinking about what to stir or chop or whatever, even though that risotto I tried to make was crunchy. But I don’t know, Sean is all excited like I am going to be this master chef or whatever.

  So if I stay here I will get/have to cook, which I don’t know how I feel about that. But also I think it will be sad and weird because Thanksgiving was always such a big deal with like every gay person who doesn’t talk to their family within a five-mile radius in the house, and either way it’s not going to be like that.

  But at least if I am at Karen’s it will be kind of normal because she was always there so it will be like okay this is a little bit of what it used to be. But then again you can tell she’s gonna get all weepy like she does practically every time I see her and we’re gonna have to cry about how we miss Sandy and Eva so much, boo-hoo and so there won’t be any way to pretend that this is my new life or whatever, it will just be like I have this fucked up old life even though the fucked up part is my new life and I don’t even really know what I am saying.

  I hate feeling like they both want something from me, like Sean is like, make my pathetic life complete and Karen is like, help me remember my best friends and I don’t want to help anybody do anything because I am not doing such a shit hot job of helping myself these days, even though I guess I do have a real friend in Kate, I mean she has been e-mailing and calling which Jen never did and Jen is now like skipping school to hang out with the record store guy and whatever which means we see her only like twice a week and she always has forty-eleven CDs of like some new Polish punk band or whatever.

  Kate burned me this metal CD which I didn’t really like the first time I listened to it but I did appreciate it because except for when Sasha and Kristen came up all crying going we care about you I haven’t had that much feeling like somebody cares about me and I know it takes five minutes to
make a CD but at least you know somebody was spending five minutes thinking about you.

  I don’t know I don’t know I don’t have to make a decision about that right now or maybe even ever so stop asking.

  But I do have to decide where to go to Thanksgiving and I guess Karen will probably die or something if she has to spend it by herself and Sean is probably used to it so I guess I will go there but I actually do feel kind of bad for him but don’t tell him because I have an image to protect, ha-ha.

  To: Sean_Cassidy@publaw.org

  From: Rosalind90@aol.com

  Subject: Tofurky Day

  Hey Sean. I am sorry to report that I think I am going to have Thanksgiving with Karen. It’s actually nothing personal and it’s not like I hate you or anything even though I think I did say that when you grounded me, but you know I was just mad and also drunk. (and by the way, am I ever getting un-grounded? I am just wondering) It’s just that I had Thanksgiving with Karen for as long as I remember, and I would just feel weird telling her no. Sorry again but if you save the Tofurky maybe we can have it on Friday and it will be like two Thanksgivings or something.

  To: davidsanders@Newcastle.k12.mass.edu

  From: Sean_Cassidy@publaw.org

  Subject: I’m a loser, baby

  … so why don’t you kill me. Well, in answer to your question about what our Thanksgiving plans are, I suppose we currently have divergent plans. Which is to say that Rosalind is going to spend Thanksgiving with her “aunt” Karen, who, as we know, is not an actual aunt, not that I am entertaining any resentment or bitterness.