WRITE CLUB 11/20/12
Bout: Hungry vs. Full
My Topic: Hungry
My Opponent: Emily Rose, Full
Charity competing on behalf of: Pediatric AIDS Chicago Prevention Initiative (PACPI)
Bout: Hungry vs. Full
My Topic: Hungry
My Opponent: Emily Rose, Full
Charity competing on behalf of: Pediatric AIDS Chicago Prevention Initiative (PACPI)
WRITE CLUB 11/20/12 Photo by Evan Hanover WRITE CLUB 11/20/12
Bout: Hungry vs. Full
My Topic: Hungry
My Opponent: Emily Rose, Full
Charity competing on behalf of: Pediatric AIDS Chicago Prevention Initiative (PACPI)
"It's easy," she said, scribbling a quick note on a legal pad.
"I'll leave your instructions here, and I'll be back in two months."
The pad made a flattening sound as she plopped it onto the kitchen counter and whisked her roller case through the living room,
down the stairs and out the front door of the building.
::deep breath::
I surveyed the apartment from the kitchen. It was a small 2 bedroom, modestly decorated with photos, books, posters of wine bottles and those "Live, Laugh, Love" wooden carvings you see everywhere but assume no one actually buys....and it will be home for the next couple of months.
So I turned to fetch my own roller case to unpack my clothes and--
JESUSFUCKINGCHRIST!!!
Ok, THERE he was--the little boy, whom I was there to nanny.
"I'm Hungry" he said flatly, almost like a command. He had wide-set eyes and a head full of curly hair. Freckles splashed his somber face and he regarded me quietly--that's when I noticed he was standing on top of my suitcase, like a dais.
"OK! Well, let's check to see what your Mom says in case you have any allergies and stuff."
Trying not to take my eyes off him, I groped for the legal pad and brought it to my face. One line, scribbled in pencil, read:
"FEED HIM WHEN HE'S HUNGRY."
I checked the next page, looked on the back of the pad, glanced back at the kitchen counter. This is a fuckin' joke, right?
Where is the address of his school?
The timetables for dropping him off and picking him up?
Does he have hockey practice? Trombone lessons? [eyeing the kid] Creepy-ass Pokemon club?
Where are the emergency numbers? The address of the closest ER, the number to his pediatrician, list of prescriptions and diet restrictions??
The car keys? The...apartment...keys...
I looked back at the kid.
"I'm hungry." he repeated patiently. "I would like to start with the lamp."
"The lamp?" I over-enunciated reflexively the way I do when I give a kid a second chance to realize they may have malaproppped.
"Yes, please."
"No problem, buddy." I affected too-lightheartedly. I backed up into the kitchen, reaching behind me to open the door to the fridge.
It was empty, hahaha. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON.
For the SECOND time, I never heard him move.
I look back to find the 6 foot standing lamp half gone, and he's already working on the rest.
I...cannot tell you…what he did with it.
I can only say that...after his own fashion...he did...eat...it.
After the lamp was the wine rack.
Then two oven pans
Then 3/4s of the gate on the balcony.
Each time...he asked before he started...and the instructions...said to...so I said yes...so...
He fell asleep in front of the television.
I didn't move him to his bedroom
I didn't ask him if he had homework
I didn't ask him if he went to school
I didn't move
I didn't wanna wake him up
I just sat. Studied the apartment again, taking the time. It looked the same...except--you know--darker, because there wasn't a fuckin' lamp!
…
"I'm hungry."
FUCK!
I checked the clock as I got up--it had been two hours since he fell asleep in front of the TV.
TWELVE since I'd arrived yesterday--also twelve since I'd eaten.
Will he always need to eat Every. Two. Hours?
"I'm hungry" the boy said. "May I have a chair, please?"
"A whole chair? Why don't you start small with a couple books?"
For the first time, his expression changed. Or, rather, for the first time--he HAD an expression on his face. His entire visage lifted.
"Oh no, books are for special."
"Special--what?"
"Special treats."
The note didn't say NO BOOKS.
"Are there…any favorites over there?"
The boy nodded.
"Well…what—what are your favorites?"
The boy knelt in front of the bookshelf and beckoned me to join him.
My skin prickled. Thrilled with a mixture of fear and irrevocable curiosity I crossed the living room to the bookshelf and sat next to him on the floor.
One by one, he touched the myriad copies. How many times had his mother had to buy duplicates?
Sherlock Holmes
Hardy Boys
Encyclopedia Brown
Shel Silverstein
MAUS
I palmed the first of a 20 volume 2nd edition collection of the OED, hefted it, then handed it to him. He took it lovingly.
I turned away, initially, still not used to watching him...eat.
But the sound...it was different.
He didn't take it...whole...like the base of the lamp...or the bars of the gate...
The books...were...one page...and he...read it first...front...and back.
And then...he would fold it...? Into a plane...or a bird...or a star...or a flower.
And he would place it on his tongue. And close his mouth around it.
And he would sit. Waiting for it to dissolve.
"Would you like to try?"
"What?"
I hadn't noticed...his eyes were so brown they were almost black.
"Aren't you hungry?"
He pressed his finger to the top of the binding and slowly tore a sheer page for me.
I read it. Front, then back. It began with "armistice" and ended with "ashram."
He showed me how to fold it into a leaf.
I placed it on my tongue.
Closed my mouth around it.
And waited.
Bout: Hungry vs. Full
My Topic: Hungry
My Opponent: Emily Rose, Full
Charity competing on behalf of: Pediatric AIDS Chicago Prevention Initiative (PACPI)
"It's easy," she said, scribbling a quick note on a legal pad.
"I'll leave your instructions here, and I'll be back in two months."
The pad made a flattening sound as she plopped it onto the kitchen counter and whisked her roller case through the living room,
down the stairs and out the front door of the building.
::deep breath::
I surveyed the apartment from the kitchen. It was a small 2 bedroom, modestly decorated with photos, books, posters of wine bottles and those "Live, Laugh, Love" wooden carvings you see everywhere but assume no one actually buys....and it will be home for the next couple of months.
So I turned to fetch my own roller case to unpack my clothes and--
JESUSFUCKINGCHRIST!!!
Ok, THERE he was--the little boy, whom I was there to nanny.
"I'm Hungry" he said flatly, almost like a command. He had wide-set eyes and a head full of curly hair. Freckles splashed his somber face and he regarded me quietly--that's when I noticed he was standing on top of my suitcase, like a dais.
"OK! Well, let's check to see what your Mom says in case you have any allergies and stuff."
Trying not to take my eyes off him, I groped for the legal pad and brought it to my face. One line, scribbled in pencil, read:
"FEED HIM WHEN HE'S HUNGRY."
I checked the next page, looked on the back of the pad, glanced back at the kitchen counter. This is a fuckin' joke, right?
Where is the address of his school?
The timetables for dropping him off and picking him up?
Does he have hockey practice? Trombone lessons? [eyeing the kid] Creepy-ass Pokemon club?
Where are the emergency numbers? The address of the closest ER, the number to his pediatrician, list of prescriptions and diet restrictions??
The car keys? The...apartment...keys...
I looked back at the kid.
"I'm hungry." he repeated patiently. "I would like to start with the lamp."
"The lamp?" I over-enunciated reflexively the way I do when I give a kid a second chance to realize they may have malaproppped.
"Yes, please."
"No problem, buddy." I affected too-lightheartedly. I backed up into the kitchen, reaching behind me to open the door to the fridge.
It was empty, hahaha. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON.
For the SECOND time, I never heard him move.
I look back to find the 6 foot standing lamp half gone, and he's already working on the rest.
I...cannot tell you…what he did with it.
I can only say that...after his own fashion...he did...eat...it.
After the lamp was the wine rack.
Then two oven pans
Then 3/4s of the gate on the balcony.
Each time...he asked before he started...and the instructions...said to...so I said yes...so...
He fell asleep in front of the television.
I didn't move him to his bedroom
I didn't ask him if he had homework
I didn't ask him if he went to school
I didn't move
I didn't wanna wake him up
I just sat. Studied the apartment again, taking the time. It looked the same...except--you know--darker, because there wasn't a fuckin' lamp!
…
"I'm hungry."
FUCK!
I checked the clock as I got up--it had been two hours since he fell asleep in front of the TV.
TWELVE since I'd arrived yesterday--also twelve since I'd eaten.
Will he always need to eat Every. Two. Hours?
"I'm hungry" the boy said. "May I have a chair, please?"
"A whole chair? Why don't you start small with a couple books?"
For the first time, his expression changed. Or, rather, for the first time--he HAD an expression on his face. His entire visage lifted.
"Oh no, books are for special."
"Special--what?"
"Special treats."
The note didn't say NO BOOKS.
"Are there…any favorites over there?"
The boy nodded.
"Well…what—what are your favorites?"
The boy knelt in front of the bookshelf and beckoned me to join him.
My skin prickled. Thrilled with a mixture of fear and irrevocable curiosity I crossed the living room to the bookshelf and sat next to him on the floor.
One by one, he touched the myriad copies. How many times had his mother had to buy duplicates?
Sherlock Holmes
Hardy Boys
Encyclopedia Brown
Shel Silverstein
MAUS
I palmed the first of a 20 volume 2nd edition collection of the OED, hefted it, then handed it to him. He took it lovingly.
I turned away, initially, still not used to watching him...eat.
But the sound...it was different.
He didn't take it...whole...like the base of the lamp...or the bars of the gate...
The books...were...one page...and he...read it first...front...and back.
And then...he would fold it...? Into a plane...or a bird...or a star...or a flower.
And he would place it on his tongue. And close his mouth around it.
And he would sit. Waiting for it to dissolve.
"Would you like to try?"
"What?"
I hadn't noticed...his eyes were so brown they were almost black.
"Aren't you hungry?"
He pressed his finger to the top of the binding and slowly tore a sheer page for me.
I read it. Front, then back. It began with "armistice" and ended with "ashram."
He showed me how to fold it into a leaf.
I placed it on my tongue.
Closed my mouth around it.
And waited.
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