Tip the concierge, but not too much. Too much will make him remember you; too little will make him remember you.
Part 10 — Laundromats
Remove a bloodstain when it is fresh. Rinse the clothing in cold water. Then blot the bloodstain with some diluted Tide you buy for $2 in the vending machine in the back.
Laundromats are not glamorous. You never see James Bond in a Laundromat at 3:45 a.m., where the 24-hour fluorescent lights at the front entrance speak easy money for the enormous spiders and their webs. They know how to maximize their kills. Some of them you swear you can see breathing.
Ignore the bums sleeping in the corner or wandering through with wild eyes. Ignore the thump, thump, thump, thump of someone’s bed sheets in the dryer. Ignore the smell of piss mixed with fabric softener. Focus on you, on getting through, on getting back.
If all else fails, try spitting on a bloodstain—especially if it’s your own blood. Surprisingly, this may help.
On Dreams
Eating late at night makes for more vivid dreams. Eat as early as possible, and avoid drinking heavily right before bed.
Should you wake from one of the Terrible Ones, stand up immediately in the dark and jump up and down until your ankles start to hurt and the blood in your head feels hot. Remember you are here. Remember there is no God. There is just you and the dark and the carpet, the soft shaggy carpet you spent your first reward on that was worth every fucking penny because it is real and cost more money than your father would’ve spent on a car back in those days, back in New Jersey where all the houses squat sad and droopy and falling apart and fuck that, all that. Don’t think about your parents either, those nights. Splash some cold water on your face and burn a fifty-dollar bill in the sunken marble tub.
When the fire dies out, eat the ashes.
THE ETIQUETTE OF ARSON
Prologue (The Fire You Didn’t Start)
Stop. Touch the doorknob. It is hot, so step back.
Use the towel. Under the door. It will keep out the smoke.
Smoke will still come. Breathe once and hold, large and deep. Open the window and look down. Jumping more than three stories will kill you.
Remove the towel. Open the door. Watch the fire as it curls, roaring, a sound so loud it amazes you since you always thought fire was quiet. Close your eyes and remember the circus man you saw on television who walked through a pit of fire with bare feet.
Chapter 17 — Tips and Tricks
Start with something easy, like lighter fluid.1 Buy cans in the grocery store and imagine that you are just a guy planning to grill up some burgers and hot dogs in the backyard, eat watermelon until your face is dripping with red juice, tell the neighbors vaguely offensive jokes.
Later, you may find it is more of a challenge to siphon gasoline from random cars. Milk jugs work. Don’t fill from cars in the same area. Spread it out.
Location, location, location, vital in real estate and in fire starting. Your first step to a good fire should be to survey the land around you so you can choose the Best Spot. Here are a few things to look for:
Abandoned warehouses or old storage facilities
Structures with tall grass or trees nearby from which to watch the results of your work
Broken windows—a sign that the Neighborhood Watch has disbanded
Anything large and saggy and sad that needs saving
Technique Tip! A ground floor room is best. A little goes a long way, so spread your gasoline in a zigzag fashion from the back of the room to the front exit, paying extra attention to dense objects like bookcases, desks or piles of crates. Don’t forget to leave a trail at the end, an umbilical cord connecting you to the Best Spot.
It may be the end this time, but there will always be more beginnings.
Things You Wish You Could Say to Your Mother
“Once on the TV, this man died and went to hell. They tied him to a chair and pulled his fingernails off one by one. I wished it was you.”
“It is okay for boys to cry in certain situations.”
“I am an adult now. Stop telling me what to wear.”
“Sometimes I want to scratch your face off like a lottery ticket, only there would be a bunch of zero zeros underneath. I would still feel like I won.”
“Do you want to see what I did last week?”
Appendix III — Items that Are Fascinating to Burn
Paper
Rubber bands
Squirrel tails dipped in gasoline2
Plastic spoons
Dolls
Dog houses
Mattresses
The attic of your grandmother’s house
The letters your mother writes to you from the nursing home
Prologue (cont.)
When you make it out, be sure to let someone know that you are alive. Look for them, your mother, your stepfather. Cough, cough, throat tight not cry when she slaps you. Hear her say the things she’s always said before and singed, ten times worse than breathing in your mother’s cigarettes,3 and then she will wipe the mascara on the back of her hand. Say, “Where is Barney?4 And when she spits and screams again “Where is he?” and starts to beat her fists against your blanket, remember the remote control car he gave you that summer for your 10th birthday, but don’t cry.
Instead step away. Look up at the house emblazoned in gold and orange and yellow, at the thick black swirls rising, at the house’s soul escaping.
It is the beginning of the beginning.
On People
People are not to be burned. Do not burn your mother when she dies, even if she puts it in her will. Pat her foot and cover it with the blanket and nod, but know you could never do that, not after what happened to Barney, not even when she says she wants her remains sprinkled out in the ocean.
People are not to be trusted. People are flawed. People smoke cigarettes in the house and fall asleep with them in their mouths and drop matches on the carpet. It is not their fault, though. They try to love. They try their best.
People do not understand. They do not see what you do, the black curls of the soul, the bits of salvation that appear in the flames. They do not see its beauty.
Chapter 8 — The Burn
Once the fire has caught, retreat far enough to not get hurt, but stay close enough to still feel the heat. Look for the colors. Sometimes you can see red, blue, purple, orange, yellow. Sometimes even green. Look at the spaces in between the colors. The black. The white. These are the holes that need to fill. These are the pieces of soul being released.
The purity exists in the holes and the heat. The heat is not orange. The heat is white. The souls are black. Do not take your eyes away. It is important to be a witness to it all. You owe it that much, to watch. You owe it tears if that’s what happens, and often it does. There is no pain in that. If it is quiet enough, you can even hear it sigh.
1 You may have a particular fondness for the clink clink of the metal lighter fluid can as you crush it between your hands, the sound much like the rattling coins inside the soup can you kept under your bed, the bank that allowed you to save up for the plastic cat clock you saw in the window of the pawn shop down the street because you liked the way its tail wagged back and forth every time the clock struck the top of the hour.
2 The tail lit up brilliantly with just one touch of the match, but the squirrel ran out of sight before anyone could really understand what pattern the burn took or how fast it spread.
3 On one occasion, after she burned a hole in one of the new couch cushions she bought at Walmart that day, your mother spun a creative metaphor involving maggots and your laziness and need for food, but you don’t recall the exact wording of the insult, just the way that the vein on the left side of her forehead appeared as blue as those ice pops that you Uncle Lou let you eat the weekend you stayed with him up in Pittsburgh. On another occasion, remember the sweet smell of her perfume as she pressed your face against her sweater, hugging you fiercely and kissing your head when she came ho
me from the casino with $540 from playing the slots.
4 At the funeral, the priest told you exactly where Barney went: up to heaven with the angels, and your mother murmured, “Praise be to Jesus.”
THE ETIQUETTE OF GOSSIP
Epigraph
“Gossip helps facilitate bonds by showing others we trust them enough to share information.”
—American Psychological Association
Chapter 43 — A New Town!
So you’ve moved to a new town! Congratulations! Take comfort in the fact that thousands of adults do it every year, even if most of them weren’t dragged away from their beloved city for their husband’s new job that requires him to work 80 hours a week.
Think positively! A fresh start! New school for your daughter! Your savings account will grow along with the number of bedrooms and bathrooms and square feet of granite countertops you now own!
Privacy and work/life balance are key. You can afford to work part-time now and spend the remaining hours of your week doing fun things like yoga, joining mom’s groups, and writing cries for help on Facebook and immediately deleting them!
Your daughter can learn to drive in a field, attend a horse camp, grow a garden. And you, well, you will begin the Great Quest to find some sane person in this place with whom you can make fun of the nutjob guy at the end of the block who sells ammo out of his garage.
For goodness sakes, remember what your sister said: This is not the Hunger Games. No one’s going to die or anything.
From Glossary of Terms
Please don’t tell anyone this, but… (phrase): I know you’re going to tell someone else but I’m going to tell you anyway.
She’d kill me if she knew I told you this, but… (hyperbole): I am a terrible friend, but this is just way too good to keep to myself.
I swear I won’t say anything. (total lie): I’m absolutely telling at least one other person.
O.M.G. (exclamation, interjection): I can’t wait to leave so I can go tell someone this.
Chapter 56: Making Friends
Ugh! Moms’ groups, you might think. Not for me! However, moms’ groups can be a great way to make friends in your new neighborhood. Find one built around other interests besides parenting. Here are some to try:
Book clubs, except for ones that meet at TGI Fridays on a Friday (the irony!), pick mostly Nicholas Sparks books, and then ask you to donate $50 to someone’s charity for children maimed in hunting accidents.
The Women’s Ministry, except that you’re not really religious and all they seem to do is make espresso and discuss school uniforms.
Girl Scouts. Meet other moms plus get to spend extra time with your daughter, who may or may not be blaring ‘90s love ballads in her bedroom because she’s depressed. Become a troop leader and encourage story sharing. Learn to start a fire.
Some Spoken and Some Inferred Interview Questions for the Part-Time Receptionist Position at Botstanlee Sales and Manufacturing
Tell us about the gaps in your employment history. Did you really need to take time off to raise your kid? Just the one? For that many years?
Are you planning on getting pregnant again?
How is ‘writing and editing the middle school parent newsletter’ a transferrable skill?
Are you ambitious?
You have an article due, a press release to send out, a meeting in five minutes and one of your co-workers is IMing you because she just found out your boss might be sleeping with the mail clerk downstairs. How do you prioritize and set deadlines for yourself?
Why are your hands shaking?
How badly do you want to work here?
Navigating the Neighborhood Barbecue
So your husband has already joined a bowling league. Do not be jealous of the easy way that he stands, clutching a beer near the grill, chuckling with the guys. Be friendly, open-minded—bring a pitcher of pink lemonade, but stash the bottle of vodka in your purse because you aren’t sure if it’s that kind of party.
Note several positive signs about Patty, your neighbor: she is funny, she has a tattoo of a dove on her ankle, she owns a copy of the game Cards Against Humanity.
The world is a varied place, and folks with similar personalities get along better. Sarcastic people, for example, tend to get along very well with other sarcastic people. You can test this theory. Sit next to Patty while everyone’s eating and compliment her eyebrow ring. Cut the corn off the cob with a knife instead of biting into it. Then say something slightly naughty, but still within the realms of polite society. Such as, “The Randolph children must’ve had plenty of sugar today.” Does she respond:
a) “Yes, well, boys will be boys! Would you like a brownie? Martha Randolph made them, and she’s simply the most amazing cook in the world.”
b) “Yes, my children cannot handle any artificially dyed foods so we’ve completely removed sugar and processed foods from our household.”
c) “If they don’t break their necks on the monkey bars, I might do it for them.”
If c), then stay a while. You two just might get along.
Should your daughter disappear for a minute, scan the crowd. You may find she’s in the corner of the backyard, laughing—actually laughing!—with a boy her age. If your new friend Patty leans in and whispers, “Oh, look at that! She’s found Teddy Benedict! He’s the student council president. Your daughter has a good eye,” then smile softly, nod, and bring out the bottle of vodka. Let Patty pour it into the pink lemonade while you stir. Serve into red plastic Solo cups and sip.
Say, “His father’s not bad either,” and when Patty giggles, you can add, “He reminds me of a guy I used to date in college.” Watch her laugh, pour more lemonade, lean in and say, “Really.”
Two Truths and One Lie
Everyone here thinks Sears is the classiest store.
If you Google “ethnic restaurants” in town, you get Sal’s Pizzeria, China Buffet and Taco Bell.
The high school marching band plays “I’ll Follow Jesus” during its half-time show.
Appendix H: Six Degrees of a Small Town
Patty and Nancy get pedicures together each month and talk about everything that’s going on in the neighborhood.
One time when Nancy’s marriage was on the rocks, she made a pass at Doug Benedict, your daughter’s new boyfriend’s father, but it never went anywhere.
Nancy, whose marriage is still not perfect and who didn’t even bother to introduce herself to you at the barbecue, gets her hair done in town by a woman who is good friends with Marissa, who is the assistant to the VP in your husband’s division at work.
Marissa plays bridge each month with Samantha Woodbury, whose daughter Fran used to date the Benedict boy.
Fran’s dad Albert Woodbury is one of the guys on your husband’s new bowling league.
Fran Woodbury is in four different classes with your daughter, and those same four classes are the ones where your daughter has found gum, grease, or spit on the seat of her desk chair.
Girl Scout Badges You Wish You Could Earn
Password Cracker: For resourcefully guessing your daughter uses the dead dog’s name as her Snapchat password.
Peacekeeper: For not punching the troop mother who used the words “her kind” to describe the only black mother in the troop.
Successful Abercrombie Shopper Who Didn’t Go Deaf or Call Any of the Outfits Her Daughter Tried On “Trampy”: For showing courageous restraint and patience in the only store in the new mall that your daughter won’t turn her nose up at.
Special Agent: For stalking the school parking lot to look for Fran and the other bitches that threatened to beat your daughter up if she didn’t stop holding hands with Teddy Benedict during study hall.
Appendix P: Types of Gossipers to Avoid
(and One to Cultivate)
1. The Bathroom Whisperer
Giggles during a PTA meeting, and then, “Like mother, like daughter.”
2. The Passively Direct
“
So I heard you’re on the same committee as Doug Benedict. Going to be working extra hours on the bake sale promotions?”
3. The TMI
After the PTA president has had too many gin and tonics: “Holy hell, the best thing about bald guys is the way their head feels between your legs.”
4. The Disgruntled and Jealous
“Oh sure, my son could’ve been the student council president too if I was the highest-paying doctor in town.”
5. The Helpful
During a Girl Scout troop meeting: “Not to spread rumors, but you know that Fran girl that used to date your daughter’s boyfriend? She’s not exactly a saint.”
Things to Take Comfort In
Modern Manners For Your Inner Demons Page 3
