Double Take
Chapter 13
“There is no end to what a living world will demand of you.”
—Octavia E. Butler, Parable of the Sower
EM FOUND ME in the library when the last bell rang and said it was time to go. Francie was tagging along behind her and grinned at me. Since lunch, I’d been sitting at the carrel mostly reading. My computer was online through the school WiFi but it had a whole bunch of restrictions regarding what kind of websites you could look at. I wasn’t going to be reading any porn here. Not that I intended to, but I had to check. I had been looking up certain supplies I wanted, though.
“Hey, Em. Could we stop by the mall on the way home? There’s a couple things I need for school.”
“Really?” She turned to look at Francie and they high-fived. “Shopping!” I guess it’s still a national pastime. At least for women. I was afraid they’d be pretty disappointed that I wanted to go to the bookstore.
“Thanks for this,” Francie whispered in my ear. “I was trying to figure out how to tell you I couldn’t have sex today.”
“We don’t have to have sex every day, Francie.”
“I know, but it was so good I wanted to get right back at it. But we were kind of vigorous Saturday and I’m still a little sore down there. Tomorrow, though…”
“Whenever you say, Francie. You know I want to.” She gave me a little peck and we went into the mall.
“If you want to do some shopping and meet me, I’m just going to Barnes and Noble.”
“There’s a book you can’t get on Amazon?”
“I want it right now,” I laughed at my sister. She’d shit when she saw what I bought.
The truth was that I loved bookstores and libraries. Getting to spend every afternoon in the school library was not going to be a problem for me. By the time I checked into the nursing home with Renie, nearly everything was on my Kindle. I liked it for the convenience and the fact that I could change the type-size or light conditions if I wanted. But I missed the feel and texture of paper books in my hands. There were precious few bookstores left anymore. I could stand to spend some time in them.
I found what I wanted pretty quickly. There were different sizes and colors and I chose one that felt comfortable. I knew I had plenty of time, so I went back to the section New Age Reference and finally went to the section marked Indian Eastern Philosophy. I picked up an unabridged copy of The Complete Kama Sutra. I had a moment of doubt as I saw that it was an inch-and-a-half thick and had no illustrations. I wondered if Francie was capable of reading something like this. She wasn’t really the sharpest knife in the drawer. She just had the most willing pussy.
I took my purchases and left to meet the girls.
“I bet you bought a Playboy or Penthouse, didn’t you?” Francie laughed when I held the bag with my purchases away from her.
“They don’t carry those at B&N.” I’d looked. “I think you have to go to some sleezy newsstand to get that.”
“So, what did you need to get that you couldn’t get on your Kindle?” Em asked. I pulled out the Kama Sutra and handed it to Francie.
“I thought you and Em could share this. Or I can keep it in my room and just study up.”
“That is one fucking thick book!” Francie said. “I’ve heard of this. It’s supposed to show all kinds of sex positions. Oh boy! Only, I don’t see any illustrations. Jacob, do I have to read all this?”
“Don’t be an idiot, Francine!” Em declared. “I’ll read it and tell you everything I learn. Don’t worry.”
“You might have to practice together a little, you know,” I smirked.
“Um… Oh. Emily?”
“Imagine how much fun it would be to learn that stuff and then teach little brother,” Em laughed. “We might have to practice to make sure you got it right.”
“Yeah. Um… What else did you get?”
“A Moleskine journal and a pen.”
“A journal? In paper? Don’t you like have Tumblr or Facebook?”
“Yeah, but I want this on paper.”
“Are you going to sharpen your own quills?”
“I want to be a writer. Ms. Levy said today that the one thing a writer does every day is write. She suggested a journal.”
“It’s pretty. So soft,” Francie said as she stroked the cover.
“Are you going to let us read it?”
“It’s personal, Em. That’s why it’s not online.”
I was going to have to do something about that. I thought that if I kept it in my secure backpack it should be okay but what about when I filled a book and needed to store it. And who else was going to ask to see my journal? Would Ms. Levy want to read it? I still felt it was more secure than a social media site where a hundred million people were poking around looking for stuff. And the government. I never did trust that cloud thing.
Even though I’d had no actual classes, my first day at school was exhausting. I had to recap everything from my tour. I was enthusiastic about both my English class and gym, two things that surprised my parents. I was hopeful that I’d be out of algebra in a week. The other two classes were wait-and-see. I didn’t mention Rebeca. I might talk to Em about her later.
Except later I was asleep. There was a point sometime during the night that I felt the bed shift and I thought Em had arrived. I was too far gone to do anything about it, though. I didn’t dream. Maybe school would put an end to the nightmares if I continued to get home this tired.
My first class on Tuesday was Algebra. I was going to stop to talk to Ms. Freeman before class but hadn’t counted on how much the crowded halls would impede my progress on crutches. I listened to an insufferable explanation of probabilities of independent and dependent events that she read from a book and then she had some kid work one on the white board while he explained what he was doing. He was more interesting than the teacher and I suspected he knew the subject better than she did.
At the end of class I stopped at her desk and held out my workbook.
“I’ve completed the exercises…”
“Just tear the pages out and leave them in the basket by the door.” She didn’t even look up at me.
“I mean I’ve completed the whole thing. For the year. I thought you might prefer to keep the pages all together.”
“For the year?” she asked looking up at me. “What are you going to do in class?”
“I was hoping I could take the final and move into a geometry class. Mr. Gieseke said it would be possible.”
She just stared at me and sighed. “Put the book in the basket by the door. I’ll try to get it graded by the end of the week. Be sure your name is properly printed on each page.” She flipped her fingers at me to send me away and I dropped the book in the basket by the door. A week to grade it? I guessed she must be really busy. I slapped myself mentally. Of course she’s busy. There are seven periods a day and even with one off for prep, she had to be teaching six classes of twenty or thirty kids. She’s not going to set all of them aside just to grade my paper. I hurried on to Health and Wellness and told myself not to be impatient.
As if that was going to happen. Ms. Garity pretty much phoned it in. There were big posters up in the classroom with sayings on them. “Never without a condom.” “Just say no.” “The only safe sex is no sex.” “D.A.R.E.” Off in one corner there was a hand lettered notebook page tacked to the wall that said “Grab ’em by the pussy.” We were at the end of the Alcohol, Tobacco, and Other Drugs unit and she played a video on drug identification. The lights were dimmed and several kids were totally zoned out.
I was thankful when the bell rang and I could shuffle off to Human Geography. I couldn’t remember taking a course like this in V1’s life. It was an interesting look at migration and settlement patterns throughout the history of the world and how people shaped the landscape. Mr. Richards wasn’t an especially interesting teacher. He was soft-spoken and didn’t have much discipline in his class. But the material struck a chord with me as I’d always been fascinated with maps. I’d just read the book and watch for new info in his class.
Then I was on to Ms. Levy. I mean Freshman English. I’d done the required reading. This week was Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. I’d become a fan of Hemingway’s in the late sixties—long after his death—when I was debating whether or not to enlist. I was over thirty and unhappy in my job at a manufacturing facility in Gary. It was a glorified maintenance position and I spent more time fixing stuck conveyor belts than anything else. Then I read The Sun Also Rises and decided life in a factory wasn’t so bad after all. I’d consumed all his work but as I got older, The Old Man and the Sea had become my favorite. It was a metaphor of life and the struggle we have to succeed, even at the cost of what we are striving for.
“Okay. Movie Friday. Old classics day,” Ms. Levy said. “We’ll watch the first fifty minutes of John Huston’s 1956 film, Moby Dick.” There were a number of groans. “Be thankful. I’m not making you read it. There are some authors who, unlike Hemingway, can only truly be appreciated by their own generation. Melville is one of them. But the story is good and I want you to draw some parallels between it and The Old Man and the Sea. Remember that your literary response journal entry will be due at the beginning of that period. If it isn’t in my inbox when the movie starts, you’ll receive an automatic five-point markdown. The prompt is on the website. At least five hundred words but please don’t make me read more than a thousand. Brian.” Everyone looked over at a boy who barely glanced up from the keyboard he was typing on and laughed. Apparently, he’d overdone a journal entry. When class was over I sighed with relief. That was it for the day—except P.E. I stopped to talk to Ms. Levy.
“We have some catch-up work to do, Mr. Hopkins,” she smiled. “I don’t think there will be a problem. Tomorrow, I’d like you to start with the first unit test on the short stories we read during the first month of class. I’ve read the journal entries you did, responding to the prompts. You’re doing well on them. I’d like to see you sharpen your focus on the one due Friday. Your writing on the earlier prompts seems… detached and formal. The purpose of the journal is not just to review the work and show me that you read it. I have no doubts that you did. But I want to see how you connected with the story.”
“I think I understand. I’ll do better this time.”
“I don’t expect everything to change overnight. This is a process class and I won’t rush it, even with the amount of catching up you have to do. We have six weeks to get you with the rest of the class as far as writing and progress goes. I’m clear sixth period. I understand you have no afternoon classes. Let’s plan on Wednesday afternoon sixth period as your catch-up sessions. There are three unit tests to catch up but not more than one a week. It will also give us an opportunity to chat and make sure that you are understanding what we’ve covered. Fair enough?”
“Yes, ma’am. That will work just fine. I think I’ll really enjoy this class.”
“Don’t commit to that until you see how I grade your papers.”
I sat at the same table in the cafeteria as yesterday and opened my lunch bag. If I was going to be packing my own lunches, I needed to tell Mom what I wanted stocked in the refrigerator. This morning I’d hard-boiled two eggs and packed a bunch of vegetables I found in the crisper. I almost felt guilty about the bag of chips I grabbed.
“You’ll want to buy the cafeteria lunch on Friday if you can,” Rebeca said as she set her tray down opposite me. “They actually make an effort to cook something special those days. Last week they were turning out a pretty decent Yakisoba. You could have chicken or tofu—if you’re a vegetarian. That’s a big pile of vegetables in front of you.”
“Hi, Beca. It was all I could do to keep from digging into them during third period. I need to adjust to this schedule.”
“Beca? You already gave me an endearing nickname? Isn’t that a little intimate for this stage of our relationship?”
“Um… I didn’t mean to… You’re teasing, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Don’t have much experience with that kind of thing, do you?”
“Only from my big sister. I think I can take it.”
“I’ve got an older sister, too. She’s in service this year so I don’t get to see her much.”
“I can imagine. I know I’ll miss my sister when she graduates.”
“So how was the first day back in school?”
I told her what my impressions of the classes were and she laughed. I tried to be subtle about glancing around the cafeteria to see where the patterns were. I thought it would make an interesting study for Human Geography to plot the migration and settlement patterns of the lunch room. Maybe I’d suggest that to Mr. Richards for my project next semester.
“Hey! Where you at?” She turned and looked the direction I was staring. Sure enough, my eyes had lit on Joan. True to what Beca had said yesterday, today she was wearing skin tight blue jeans and a sweater that kept riding up enough to show bare skin between the waistband and sweater. A guy I’d seen stop to talk to her yesterday was sitting beside her and she was laughing at something he said. “Oh, geez! Don’t tell me you’re going to become one of her sycophants. I gave you more credit than that.” She started to get up.
“No. Hey, wait. I was thinking about Human Geography.”
“Seriously? You expect me to believe that?”
“Yesterday, you accurately predicted that girl’s pattern. Short skirt on Monday. Attract a new conquest. Tight jeans on Tuesday. Set the hook. I was looking around at some of the other patterns in the lunchroom. Like those two tables were six feet apart when that group came in and they shoved them together as they sat down.”
“Football team.”
“Common interest shapes the contour of the land for settlement.”
“Wow! There’s a brain in that head of yours. Cool!”
“I was thinking of asking Mr. Richards if I could work on the migration and settlement patterns of the cafeteria for my final project next term.”
“I can see that. We could classify the population demographics and where they settle. We could even do some tricky things and rearrange the starting geography of the cafeteria before first lunch and see whether it gets shifted around to conform to the same ending patterns.”
“We?” I got stuck back at that point.
“Well, uh… yeah. I mean…”
“I could use a partner on a project like this. Not a boss, though.”
“No. Really. I was just playing off your idea and sort of brainstorming.”
“Do you have Human Geography?”
“I’m in the AP division. You could probably get into it next semester.”
“Do you think Richards would go for it? He seems so conservative.”
“That’s only in the basic course. He’s trying to dumb down the information because it’s required and he really doesn’t want anyone to fail his class. In the AP course he’s a lot of fun.”
“You don’t think doing a project like this is too much like a commitment at this stage of our relationship, do you?” I whispered. I waggled my eyebrows.
“It’s a school project,” she laughed. “I didn’t offer to sit on your face.” That kind of got my attention where it would be difficult to hide. She got serious. “I won’t even be fifteen until January,” she confided. “I’m at least a year away from anything more than a school project. You’d have to win my affection first. You know? Better put together a plan.”
Jock directed me to a locker where I could get changed into gym clothes while he went over my physical therapy plan. I went into the weight room to meet him. There were a few other guys working on free weights and they glanced over at me when I hobbled in on my crutches.
“Okay. This is a good plan and I’m glad you gave me the prognosis and the extent of your injuries. The one thing we don’t want to do is re-injure you while we’re trying to make you stronger. Unlike those guys, we aren’t going for muscle mass here. You want strong, flexible muscles that don’t stress the joints. Do you have any athletic goals? I’m guessing you don’t want to play football.”
“Got that in one. I’m not opposed to it but I don’t really want to be in a position where I’m beaten up. I already got tackled by a bus.” He laughed at me. “I’ve always kind of wanted to run,” I said. “It just seems like that is more interesting than just sitting in a gym.”
“And you can do it alone or in a group, whichever appeals to you at the time,” Jock nodded. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll set you up on machines for now. I don’t want you handling free weights until you have confidence in your strength. We’re going to keep the weights light but gradually increase the reps and then the sets. You say you’re up to five pushups and twenty-five sit-ups. Don’t increase the number of reps yet. Instead, I want you to do sets three times a day. Do a set in the morning like you have been. Then do a set here in the workout room and another in the evening. This will do more to get you a balanced body than doing fifteen reps at one time.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“We need to get you started on squats, too. Using your own bodyweight to build your muscles is better than any machine I can put you on because your movements actually function to manipulate your body. And finally, you should do about fifteen minutes of stretching during each workout. Don’t try to stretch your muscles when they’re cold. More runners injure themselves stretching out before they run than they do running. Warm the muscles first. Then stretch them. If you’re up to it, next week I’ll figure out a way to get you on a treadmill and get your walking up to par so you can ditch the crutches.”
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