Absolutely Normal Chaos

by Sharon Creech

  More Odyssey: Everyone at Menelaus’s starts crying and weeping about Odysseus (because they still think he’s dead), but then a goddess gives them some special wine that prevents people from crying! Imagine.

  I wish I had some of that wine for Mrs. Furtz.

  But Odysseus isn’t dead. He’s being held captive by a nymph named Calypso who apparently adores Odysseus and doesn’t want him to go back to Penelope. Meanwhile, all Penelope’s suitors decide to ambush Telemachus when he returns.

  Wednesday, July 4

  The Fourth of July!

  I practically forgot this was the Fourth of July! Dad was at the kitchen table in his grungy clothes, and I asked him what he was doing there, and he said, “I live here.” Har har. Then he said, “I’ll give you a hint: firecrackers.” Har har. I got it.

  We all went on a picnic today to Windy Rock, a park about ten miles from Easton. In this park is the actual Windy Rock—a huge boulder up on top of a cliff. Supposedly you can walk up there anytime and the air will be still and silent until you reach the rock, and then, whoooosh, the wind blows as fierce as can be just around the rock. Sure enough, every time we’ve been there, it has happened. Next to the rock is a plaque that explains the legend behind it.

  According to this legend, there once was an Indian maiden who fell to her death on this very cliff. Her lover came to the rock, wailing and moaning, and then he stood on the rock, ready to jump over too, because his life was nothing without his maiden. But then the winds started to blow round and round the rock so that he was unable to jump. The legend says the winds blew for two weeks (he must have been starving by then), until he fell into a deep slumber. Then the winds “abated” and his friends lifted him off the rock and took him home. And now every time anyone approaches the rock, the winds begin again. I guess the winds think he’s coming back.

  I like legends like that.

  So we had a picnic there. Maggie didn’t come because she went to a party with Kenny (she’s ungrounded now), but Carl Ray came along. He’s like a shadow. Everywhere we go, he goes.

  Most of the day Dennis, Doug, and I climbed trees and just messed around. We put Tommy up in this one tree with us, and he was having a great time pretending the limb was a horse. Mom and Dad stayed on the blanket, just lying there and talking. Carl Ray walked around a lot, but then he started chasing us through the trees and he was realllll scary.

  I was surprised he had the energy to run, but he started tearing around pretending he was some kind of monster and making these horrible noises, and at first we all thought it was funny to see him like that, but then he kept it up, and I have to admit even I was scared, because he would run at us making these horrible faces and these horrible noises and he would grab one of us and drag us off until the others would come and pull the captive one free.

  After a while Tommy and Dougie started crying and we all ran back to where Mom and Dad were. Then Carl Ray came walking up looking like his usual pale, pitiful self, and Mom and Dad didn’t believe us that he had been scaring the living day-lights out of everyone.

  He’s a strange one sometimes, that Carl Ray.

  When it got dark, we watched the fireworks. I used to think fireworks were so terrific, but this year they seemed a little disappointing. You wait and wait all day, and then there’s about ten minutes of booms and splashes of light and that’s it.

  Dad made a speech (which he makes every year) about Independence and Freedom and all. We’re all so used to his speech that we don’t really listen, but Carl Ray was hanging on every word, and when Dad was done Carl Ray said, “Thank you.”

  Dad said, “For what?”

  Carl Ray said, “What you said was real nice.”

  Carl Ray is just full of surprises.

  Thursday, July 5

  Today was interesting (for a change). Real interesting.

  Ready, O Muse?

  Little did I know when rosy-fingered Dawn (child of morning) crept over the horizon today that it would be such a good day. Where shall I begin, Muse?

  The pool. I went by myself because Maggie took Tommy, Dennis, and Dougie to the movies. I was going to go with them, but it was one of those days with clear blue sky and a little breeze and one of those sparkling suns (my Muse isn’t exactly warmed up yet). Too nice to be all stuffed into a movie theater.

  Sure enough, Alex Cheevey was at the pool again, just as he said. He was all by himself (I guess those Murphys don’t swim at all), so we had a great time.

  First we practiced diving. We were giving each other numbers (you know, like 10, 9, 8, etc.) for the quality of our dives. Then we started goofing around and doing clown dives and acting stupid.

  At the first break we talked about the Odyssey because Alex happened to mention that he was reading it too. That surprised me, because even if he was reading it, I didn’t think he’d be the type to admit it. He’s farther along than I am and he actually likes it. He says it gets a lot more interesting as you go. But he’s really into this bit about Telemachus finding his father. And do you know what he told me? He said he’s always suspected he’s adopted. He said he doesn’t look or act like either one of his parents.

  But, but, but. When the next break was called, he said, “Hey, let’s leave.” Did you catch that? He said “Let’s,” as in “Let us”! He wanted me to leave with him.

  Then he walked me home. He didn’t hang around because he had to go to work. He works part-time for a landscaping company, mowing lawns and pulling weeds and trimming bushes. Anyway, he said he had to work all day on Friday and Saturday, but, but, but, Alex Cheevey actually asked me if I wanted to go swimming again on Sunday! I mean he didn’t just say, “Are you going to be at the pool on Sunday?” He actually said, “Want to go swimming on Sunday?”

  See the difference? I do. Sigh.

  The other interesting thing that happened concerns Carl Ray. At dinner, in the midst of all the usual pass-the-potatoes chatter, Maggie says, “Oh, by the way, Carl Ray, you had a phone call today.”

  Everyone stopped chewing because no one could imagine who would call Carl Ray. He’s received a whole lot of letters from Aunt Radene, but not one single phone call.

  Maggie said, “I wrote down the message,” and from the kitchen she retrieved a piece of paper that she didn’t give to Carl Ray. You could tell she wanted everyone to hear this. “It was a lady…”

  Everyone about choked.

  “…who is the secretary of a Mr. Biggers.” She stopped to take a bite of her beans. She chewed awhile. Carl Ray had stopped eating.

  “And this lady, this secretary of Mr. Biggers’s, wanted to know if you could come in and see Mr. Biggers…” and she took another bite of beans and chewed awhile. Meanwhile, we’re all waiting.

  “…at four o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Apparently…” and she reached over for the jug of milk and poured herself a glass, “…this Mr. Biggers is a lawyer.”

  Carl Ray’s mouth dropped open, revealing some unchewed potatoes.

  “So you have this appointment at four tomorrow afternoon, and if you can’t make it, you’re supposed to call back. The number’s right here at the bottom,” and she handed the paper to Dennis, who handed it to Dougie, who handed it to Carl Ray, who just stared at it.

  Dad said, “Carl Ray, do you have any idea what this is about?”

  Carl Ray said, “Nope.”

  Dad looked at Mom, so she said, “Have you ever met this Mr. Biggers?”

  Carl Ray said, “Nope.”

  Mom looked at Dad, so he said, “Hmmm. Are you sure you have no idea what this is about?”

  Carl Ray said, “Nope.”

  Dad said, “Does that mean…” but then he stopped.

  So everyone went on eating, except for Carl Ray, who sat there staring at this piece of paper. He didn’t finish his dinner, which is a real sign that something must be wrong, because we all know what a gigantic appetite Carl Ray has.

  After dinner, I heard Dad asking Carl Ray a bunch more questions. He ask
ed him if this had anything to do with a girl (“Nope”) or if Carl Ray was in any kind of trouble (“Nope”) or if he owed anyone any money (“Nope”) or if he’d been in any fights (“Nope”) or stolen anything (“Nope”). Finally, Dad said he would leave work early tomorrow and take Carl Ray over to Mr. Biggers’s office if Carl Ray wanted him to. Carl Ray said, “Okay.”

  I wonder what Carl Ray did that he’s not telling anyone.

  Thrashing Odysseus

  Book Five of the Odyssey is all about Odysseus trying to get away from Calypso and being thrashed about on his raft until the goddesses help him. Lord.

  I asked my mom tonight if I was adopted and she about died laughing. “Whatever made you ask that?” she said (when she finally stopped laughing about ten hours later). “No, you are not adopted.”

  I was a little disappointed when she said that, and then I got to thinking that maybe she wouldn’t want to tell me the truth, so maybe I am adopted, but I’ll never really know unless she plans to tell me the truth when I’m sixteen. Actually, I’ve often suspected that I am adopted. Maybe Alex and I have the same parents! Oh, well, maybe that wouldn’t be so good after all.

  Friday, July 6

  Boy, the gods are sure intervening in Carl Ray’s life! I swear, Athene must have come down and taken pity on the poor creature. But before I tell about Carl Ray, I’ll tell about Beth Ann as ole black-fingered night (grandfather of day) (har har har) (thanks, O Muse) creeps over the sky.

  I took Tommy and Dougie for a walk today and we stopped at Beth Ann’s. Even though she didn’t seem real thrilled to see two little kids with me, she gave them some Coke and potato chips and we all went out into her backyard. While Tommy and Dougie climbed the apple tree, she and I actually talked for a change. I mean, it’s been a while.

  When I asked her about Derek, she acted as if they had been married for about a hundred years. She was so matter-of-fact about it all.

  “Oh yes,” she said, “we’re still going out. He’s over here all the time. My parents are VERY fond of him. Have you ever smelled Canoe? That’s the kind of aftershave he wears. It’s DI-VIIIIINE.” (There she goes again.) “Judy says that’s what all the college guys wear. I’m going to buy him some more for his birthday—that’s next week. We’re going out to dinner first—on his birthday, that is—and then back to his house for a little get-together” (get-together??) “with his parents and grandparents. They’re such a nice family. I think I’ve met just about everyone in his family: his parents—they asked me to call them Betty and Bill—his brother, Gregory, of course—that’s Judy’s boyfriend—his grandparents—they asked me to call them Nonna and Poppa—his aunt Jean and uncle Roy; his aunt Catherine and uncle Bob. I think that’s about it. Oh, and his best friend, whose name is Jerry—and Jerry’s girlfriend, Molly. We’ve doubled with them a few times. Not too many times though, because Derek doesn’t really like Molly. She talks so much.”

  Molly talks so much??? Have you ever heard anyone go on like Beth Ann does? How does she think of all those things to say? I am interested in what Beth Ann does, but really, should I be expected to care what Derek’s grandparents want her to call them? Or what Derek’s best friend’s girlfriend’s name is???

  But I did pretend to be interested. You have to suffer through a few dozen of those things with Beth Ann in the hopes that she’ll finally get to something meaty. I had to prompt her a little.

  “So,” I tried, “what do you and Derek do when you go out?”

  “Oh, lots of things. We go to the movies and sometimes for a hamburger and—”

  “You already told me all that. I meant what do you do, like, afterward?”

  She gave me one of her funny smiles that meant “Oh, I get it,” and then she looked around to see if Dougie and Tommy were near enough to hear. They weren’t. She said, “Well—it is sort of personal….”

  “Beth Ann Bartels,” I said, “I am your best friend, or at least I thought I was, and if you can’t tell me…” I put on this real hurt look.

  “Well—it’s just that Derek wouldn’t like it if I talked about Us like that,” and she glanced at me, but I was still doing my hurt look, so she said, “but I know I can trust you.”

  “Well, I hope so!”

  “Okay, then, but promise…”

  “I promise! Geez, what do I have to do, swear on a Bible?”

  “Okay, okay, don’t get upset. Let’s see. We talk a lot.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Well, we do. He’s a very interesting person, you know. He tells me all kinds of things, like about…”

  “Beth Ann!”

  “Right. You don’t want to know about our conversations—you just want to know all the sordid details.”

  If anyone else had said this, I probably would have been mad, but she was being so ridiculous and of course I wanted to know all the “sordid” details, so I just fell over laughing and then she fell over laughing and we were finally getting back to being good friends. Or so I thought.

  Then I told her how much it had been bothering me that she hardly ever talked to me anymore and then when she did, all she could do was moon over Derek and talk like Megan and Christy: “di-viiiiine” and “truly wonderful” and all that. It felt good to tell her, and fortunately she didn’t even seem to mind. She just laughed about it and said she was sorry and that she hadn’t meant to sound so drippy and all.

  But then I really blew it. I don’t know what came over my brain, but I guess I thought I could go on being one hundred percent honest, and I said, “Well, maybe I was a little jealous. Maybe I was. When Maggie told me that she saw you and Derek at the party and that you were hanging all over him and that he was sort of a j—” All of a sudden I could tell by the look on her face that I had gone too far.

  Boy, did she get mad! She straightened out her little mouth so fast into this flat little line and scrunched up her eyes and jumped up and said, “God, Mary Lou! Who do you think you are, anyway?!”

  I started to apologize, but she wouldn’t let me talk at all.

  “I was NOT hanging all over Derek—believe me, I don’t have to do that. And Derek is NOT a jerk—don’t shake your head, I know that’s what you were going to say. You make me sick, and we’re NOT best friends, and you can take your little brat brothers and get out of my yard!” And she ran into the house and slammed the screen door and then slammed the other door and I heard the locks click.

  Beth Ann is so darn touchy. Who does she think she is, anyway? It makes me mad just thinking about it now. I hate when someone yells at you and doesn’t even give you a chance to talk. I really hate that.

  Grrrr.

  So. Now about Carl Ray.

  I just don’t believe this and apparently Dad doesn’t either, because when he got back from taking Carl Ray to see Mr. Biggers, he was shaking his head back and forth, and Carl Ray was looking sort of stunned. Everybody started jumping all over saying, “What happened? What did Mr. Biggers want? What did he say?” and Dennis said, “Is Carl Ray going to jail?” and Tommy started crying because I think he actually likes Carl Ray and he started screaming, “No jail! No jail!” and finally Dad got everybody quiet and made us sit down to dinner before he would tell us anything.

  Here’s what happened: Mr. Biggers told Carl Ray that someone wanted to give Carl Ray some money!!! Mr. Biggers “was not at liberty to divulge” the name of this person who is throwing his money away.

  This sounds just like Great Expectations, if you ask me. Great Expectations is a terrific book. It’s about a poor little boy who inherits some money and he thinks it’s from this weird rich lady who sits around in this cobwebby room all day, but it turns out that the money is from some spooky convict who the boy gave some bread to when the boy was little.

  But back to Carl Ray. We all just about keeled over when we heard about Mr. Biggers telling Carl Ray someone wanted to give him some money. It was chaos in our house because everybody started asking Carl Ray a million questions.

&nb
sp; MAGGIE: Gosh, Carl Ray, who could the person be?

  DENNIS: How much? How much did you get?

  ME: Who is the person??

  DOUGIE: Is it a lot of money?

  TOMMY: No jail?

  MAGGIE: Who do you think it could be?

  ME: Yeah, who is it?

  DENNIS: How much money is he giving you?

  DOUGIE: Is he a millionaire?

  TOMMY: No jail?

  And on and on. Ole Carl Ray hardly had a chance to get a word in, and finally Dad yelled, “QUIET! WILL YOU ALL JUST BE QUIET?”

  And when we finally all shut up, Dad said, “Carl Ray does not know who the person is. We’ve been through this already. He asked Mr. Biggers to tell him the name, but Mr. Biggers can’t do that. Apparently whoever is giving Carl Ray this money wants to remain anonymous.”

  Mom said, “That’s very curious, isn’t it, Sam?”

  Dad just nodded.

  “Boy,” Dennis said, “how lucky can a guy get? I wish this person would give me some money.”

  And Dougie said, “How much, Carl Ray?”

  And Dad said, “Carl Ray, you don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to. It’s none of their business.”

  Boy, here we are providing a hotel for the ole prince and Dad doesn’t think it’s any of our business?

  But Carl Ray just shrugged and said, “I don’t care if they know.”

  And Dennis said, “How much?”

  And Carl Ray said to Dad, “You tell ’em. I forget.” He forgets? Lord.

  DAD: He gets five thousand dollars right now…

  DENNIS: God!

  MOM: Don’t say “God!”

  DOUGIE: GEEZ!!

  MAGGIE: Wow.

  ME: Lord.

  TOMMY: No jail?

  DAD:…and the rest of the money…

  DOUGIE: There’s more?