by Owen Thomas
For all of that education and enough time to pull herself together, Tilly was a hellion still. It was as though she were looking for failure. Not failure. No. Personal destruction. Tilly’s recent success as an actor might disguise that inevitability, but it would not prevent it. And while the critical accolades and growing public fanfare had certainly pleased Susan, who had finally felt free to stop apologizing for her daughter’s public personae, Tilly was officially no longer an Ohioan daughter and everyone knew it. She was now one of them. The cult of entertainment had bared its tabloid fangs. There was nothing left but the slow, gruesome devouring and the roar of the crowd.
The door to the junk room opened and Ben emerged with his headphones still over his ears, knocking the guitar on the doorframe as he stepped into the hall. He froze in alarm as he laid eyes on his father sitting on the stairs.
“Careful there, partner,” Hollis said. Ben’s shallow features flooded over.
“Dad! It was an accident, Dad. I didn’t mean to do that. I… I…”
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Just be careful.”
“Dad? Hey dad, can I have this?” He held the stringless guitar out in front of him by the neck like he was posing with a record-setting halibut.
“I bought that for your mother a long time ago. Back when we were in Dayton.”
“Can I have it Dad? Please?”
“You’ll have to ask your mother when she comes back.”
“When is she coming back?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Ben. When she’s good and ready to come home I guess.”
“Can I take … hey, Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Can I take this up to my room?”
“If you’re careful, I suppose that would be alright. Will you be very careful?”
“I will be very careful, Dad. Yes, I will be very careful. Hey Dad?”
“Yes, Ben.”
“Whycome you’re sitting on the stairs all the way down here?”
“Oh, doing some laundry.”
“Mom does the laundry doesn’t she Dad?”
“Yes she does.”
“But not when she’s gone.”
“Right.”
“I was in the junk room.”
“I see that. You know your sister used to hide herself away in that room when she was a little girl.”
“She did? Tilly did that?”
“Yep.”
“Why was Tilly hiding, Dad? Whycome Tilly was hiding in the junk room?”
His son whispers these words, stooping a little in Hollis’ direction as if the walls had ears and the rooms on this level of the house have memories of their own. As if Greta were listening.
“Would you like to cook steaks out on the grill tonight?”
“Me? Me cook steaks out on the grill like you do sometimes?”
“Sure. It’s just you and me again. Another bachelors’ night. And what do we say about bachelors’ night?”
“Anything goes and nobody knows! Ha ha!”
“Good. Let’s go fire up that grill.”
“Hey Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Whycome Tilly was hiding in the junk room?”
CHAPTER 35 – Susan
“Okay then. Now that Kristen has walked us through the grand plan once again…are we all about ready to head off to our four o’clock mud baths?”
“I’d like to hear what Susan thinks about all of this first.”
“Oh, no, Gayle, really…”
“Good idea, Gayle. We haven’t heard much from you yet, Mrs. Johns.”
“Please, Meredith. Call me Susan.”
“Okay, Susan. What do you think about the planning so far?”
“Oh, I’m just kind of sitting in and listening. I don’t really have . . .”
“Don’t be silly. All opinions are welcome here.”
“No, no.”
“Well, do you generally agree or disagree with the approach?”
“You’re all so much younger than I thought you’d be. I’m just a little out of step.”
“Nonsense. We need a variety of perspectives here. Will someone open up those windows? It’s just way too hot in here. Thanks, Jen. Oh, that’s better. Anyway. Susan. Gayle tells me you were a valuable contributor to the Fingerhut campaign so…”
“Oh yes. The great, great speech I keep hearing about.”
“Settle down, Kris.”
“Listen, Gayle, you were the one that kept mentioning it. I’m just curious.”
“Maybe both of you could stop sniping at each other for the first time in two days and let her talk. Please, Mrs. Johns, go ahead.”
“Oh, it wasn’t even… I was just … that was nothing.”
“It was great, is what it was, Susan. Great. I wish I had a copy of that speech.”
“Oh, Gayle.”
“I’m serious, Susan.”
“Well, Susan, let’s give it a shot. Tell us what you think. How are we doing here?
“…”
“Take your time.”
“I think… I think I might disagree a little bit with the approach Kristen has... um… that Kristen has proposed.”
“Proposed? It’s not a proposal.”
“Easy, Kristen. We’re interested in all feedback here.”
“Oh, I’m interested, Meredith. Believe me.”
“Please, Susan, continue. Why do you disagree with the approach?”
“Well… I guess I think it’s too imitative.”
“You think effective protest needs to be original?”
“Well, no. Not exactly. I guess I’m looking at the anti-war effort as a whole. You know? Coast to coast. And I ask the question, what can Ohio do to assist in that larger effort. Right? I mean that’s the title on our materials here: Ohioans for Peace – A Strategic Workshop. I know that Cindy Sheehan has got Camp Casey going on out there in Crawford and it’s getting a lot of attention.”
“A lot of golden news media coverage, is what she’s getting.”
“Let’s let her finish, Kristen. Go ahead, Susan.”
“Oh. Thanks, Meredith. Well, yeah, she is getting a lot of coverage. Which is good. I don’t think George Bush will really sit down and have any kind of substantive…”
“Of course not. We’ll have to drag him to peace kicking and screaming. You think any of us are waiting around for George to come to his senses? You think Cindy Sheehan is waiting for that?”
“Kris…Jesus. Just relax and let…”
“Gayle, maybe you should just relax a little. Is it okay with you if I participate in my own conference?”
“Kristen, I think maybe Gayle is right. You need to just…”
“Back off, Meredith. Susan, you were saying.”
“Uh…well, I was saying … that all of that attention is good. Of course. But I think it might be a mistake to just duplicate the Camp Casey model by setting up a Camp Mason over in Springfield. And by that I certainly mean no disrespect or lack of sympathy to the Masons. I thank God none of my children are over in Iraq.”
“But…”
“But when you look at a protest movement as a whole, it has to be broad based and varied. If it is to have any staying power beyond the moment, you know, we need a variety of participants drawn from all social, political and economic strata adopting a wide variety of methods to drum home the same message – get out of Iraq, get out of Iraq, get out of Iraq.”
“Okay. That’s interesting. Well, you have seen from Kristen’s excellent Power Point what the strategic benefits are to setting up a Camp Mason.”
“Yes.”
“The focus. The linkage. Symmetry of language. Ease of coverage.”
“Yes. Yes.”
“Okay. So, what exactly do you think are the downsides?”
“I think you end up putting what should be a broad-based anti-war effort on the shoulders of Cindy Sheehan. All of the eggs are in one basket.”
“Oh, I … I’m sorry, but I totally disagree, Susan. Cam
p Mason would be about Tom and Bridgett Mason, not Cindy Sheehan. And, anyway, both Camp Casey and Camp Mason would really be about every parent or family member who has anyone in Iraq. They are intended to be representative.”
“You know, Kristen, your Power Point there was great. Really. I don’t mean to take anything away from that. I’m not even saying that Camp Mason is a completely bad idea. I’m just saying … I don’t know… I’m just saying that maybe it shouldn’t be Ohio’s main focus. We need a march. Something more inclusive.”
“A march? That’s original.”
“Kristen...”
“Camp Casey is too dependent on a single personality. If Cindy Sheehan ever loses credibility…”
“How?”
“I don’t know how. I’m just saying that if she goes too far in some way. Says something regrettable, or starts associating with the wrong…”
“Her fucking son is dead, Susan.”
“Why don’t you dial it back a notch there, Kris.”
“Gayle, I’m not dialing anything back. I’m just asking a goddamned question.”
“Not very nicely, you’re not.”
“Okay, ladies…”
“Hold on, there, Meredith.”
“No. You two have been at each other for two full days now. So let’s just…”
“No, Meredith. You’re a discussion facilitator, not a school principal. I’m co-presenting here. I put all of this shit together, okay? You did the fliers and booked the resort and I did everything else. So I can say what I want and this needs to be said and you can just chill for a minute. Gayle, your days of controlling me are over. You hear that? However I endured your holier-than-thou shit for so long I will never know, but I am free of it now.”
“I dunno, Kris. You still seem pretty conflicted to me.”
“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Gayle. It’s pathetic. You were never that good.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. Those sheets are so split it’s not even funny.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. And you can drop the chivalry bullshit by the way. If your flavor of the month there can’t answer a question or two – and it seems to me that she is more than capable of doing that – then she shouldn’t be here in the first place.”
“Susan is a friend of mine, nothing more. Certainly not a flavor. So get a grip on the jealousy and show some respect. And if you persist in talking to her in this insulting manner, then maybe you and I need to go clear the air in private.”
“Ooo… you gonna beat me up, Butch?”
“I will bitch-slap you into next week if that’s what it takes.”
“Ladies, I’m sorry, I have to insist…”
“Can it Meredith.”
“Well, anyway, it’s about time for the mud…”
“Meredith!”
“Gayle, really, I’m fine. Kristen’s really not doing anything wrong.”
“See? She can take care of herself. I’m not talking to her in an insulting manner. I’m just trying to understand her position.”
“And she’s trying to explain it, except that you keep interrupting without any concern of wasting the time of twenty-five other people.”
“She’s not explaining anything, Gayle! She’s claiming that Cindy Sheehan is not a proper figurehead for this movement. And I think that is just plain absurd.”
“I’m hypothesizing, Kristen. I’m not trying to run down Cindy Sheehan. I know you’ve met her and…”
“More than met her. We’re good friends.”
“Oh, please. You met her six weeks ago.”
“Now who’s interrupting, Gayle?”
“It doesn’t count if you interrupt an interruption, Kris.”
“Anyone who wants to start wandering over for the mud bath treatments can …”
“Meredith! Just…Christ Almighty! Will you just chill out about the goddamned mud. The mud has been there for two hundred thousand years. It will last another ten minutes. Just sit down for a second. You started this, so let’s finish it. Now…Susan.”
“Uh…yeah, Kristen. Look, you’re obviously angry and I don’t want to get into a whole thing with you over this…or over Gayle…or whatever has you so exercised…”
“I’m not exercised. I’m not. I care a lot about stopping this war and I think we have a good approach here and I am interested in getting all criticisms on the table. So. You were saying.”
“Well…I was just saying…in my opinion the approach is too narrow. It’s too personality driven. It’s like the whole movement is a subtext to Cindy Sheehan’s effort. She and MoveOn are doing their thing in Crawford. And they’re doing great. I’m not trying to take anything away from them. We just need to think of our own approach.”
“What…are you worried that she won’t support us? You think this is some sort of competition? It isn’t, Susan. It isn’t.”
“Kristen…”
“Shut up, Gayle. There is no question in my mind that Cindy will totally participate in the Camp Mason rollout. All I have to do is say the word and she will be here along with fifteen hundred other people – and that’s just a starting figure – from all over the state, who will be there because Cindy will be there. She is a unifying figure now. She’s a celebrity draw.”
“That’s the problem. Too much of this is on her. I don’t know if that’s her intention, but it is becoming too much about her.”
“Look, for all practical political purposes she’s untouchable. The media is in love with her. She’s the perfect figurehead. We should be unifying the entire movement around the senseless deaths of sons and daughters and husbands and wives and Cindy Sheehan personifies that ultimate loss perfectly. Strategically, she’s a symbol that is easy for people to understand and the editorial pages almost just write themselves. Cable news is almost orgasmic over something as visual as Camp Casey. I’ve floated the Camp Mason idea and they’re ga-ga about it. It’s a natural tie-in to the drama in Crawford and they’ll cover the hell out of it.”
“I’m just a housewife, Kristen. I’m not twenty-nine. I’m…”
“I’m thirty-one, thank you.”
“Whatever. I’m older and probably not as in touch as you. I’m not a media consultant like you are. I don’t work for cable news and I don’t make a living worrying about what plays and what does not play. But I do end up watching a lot of cable news. Much more than I should because it keeps me from thinking as I’m plodding through my life folding clothes and making food and wondering what I am going to do with my recently retired and increasingly crazy husband. Oh, sure, you all can laugh, but it’s no picnic, believe me. The man just doesn’t… well, never mind. Anyway, that’s the whole point, I think, of cable news: to keep people from thinking for themselves. They’ve already done all of that for us. All we have to do is swallow. And, yes, you’re right. They love Cindy Sheehan right now. But they will also love to tear her down if they get the chance. I don’t think we want this to become the Cindy Sheehan Show and have Iraq get lost in the casual character assassination that passes for entertainment news these days.”
“No, no, no. You’re just out of your depth. I work with these people. Media is my business. They love her. Okay? They’ll keep loving her.”
“All due respect, I think we need to diversify our strategy…”
“I think that is patently ridiculous.”
“Of course you do, Kris. Anyone who challenges your opinion is ridiculous.”
“Gayle, I swear to God…”
“It’s true.”
“No, Gayle, it isn’t. I don’t have any problem with different opinions. I…”
“You sure had a lot of problem with my opinions.”
“No, Gayle I had a problem with the sanctimony.”
“Oh, come on ladies, this is not why …”
“And the tattoos. Has she given you the tour yet, Susan?”
“I’m not… I mean we’re not even…”
“It’s a sickne
ss. She’s an ink addict. Wait’ll you see the Venus Fly-trap.”
“That’s enough, Kris. Come on, Susan, let’s hit the mud baths.”
“Great idea, everyone, let’s just adjourn things until the after dinner session. Don’t forget the hot stone therapy is right after the seaweed wrap over in the …”
“No, no, no, Meredith. Everybody sit down. I want to hear what else Susan here has on her mind. I mean besides Gayle.
“What…”
“You said you had two criticisms. I think we all got the first one. We need to be more original because Cindy Sheehan is about to self-destruct. Got it. What’s next?”
“I’d like to just drop the whole thing, Kristen. You’re just…”
“So this is a problem with me and not the protest?”
“Um, the mud…”
“Meredith!”
“Some of both, I guess.”
“Then what’s the second criticism?”
“Okay. I’ll just say it.”
“Please.”
“Your plan isn’t bold enough.”
“Not bold enough.”
“Right. Not bold enough. My daughter would call it a plan to pussy out.”
“Pussy out? Are you insane? Have you been paying any attention at all?”
“This Camp Mason idea is just too easy for people to ignore. I’m sorry, but it is.”
“No one is going to ignore…”
“They can and they will, Kristen. Get as much media coverage as you want. Let Jesse Jackson run around the stage naked with a microphone. Let Cindy Sheehan sing Danny Boy and play the bagpipes. It isn’t enough by itself. You’ve got to grab people. You’ve got to make them uncomfortable. You’ve got to involve them, engage them, pull them out of their lives for a minute and make them angry.”
“Thousands of people are dying in a ridiculous war that was sold to us on a pack of lies. If that doesn’t get people angry, then…”
“You’re planning a pep rally at which you preach to the choir and congratulate yourselves on being outraged, but you are not going to change anything, Kristen. Hell, George Bush can do pep rallies.”
“I don’t appreciate the condescension, Susan.”
“Ha…”
