Christopher Paul Curtis (27 page)
Read Christopher Paul Curtis Online
Authors: Bucking the Sarge
Tags: #Flint (Mich.), #Group Homes, #Fraud, #Family, #Mothers, #People With Mental Disabilities, #Juvenile Fiction, #Special Needs, #Social Issues, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Fiction, #United States, #Parenting, #Business Enterprises, #Humorous Stories, #Parents, #People & Places, #General, #African Americans, #Family & Relationships
I carried the suitcases upstairs and Chester X carried the suits.
Chester X said, “I want to say goodbye to everyone, Luther.”
We went into the dayroom.
Chester X shook everyone's hand.
Sparky said to Mr. X, “You know that's my spot you got. You sure you wouldn't want to wait for three months, then come down?”
Chester X said, “Back off, Spunky, we're on a mission.”
When we went on the front porch Mr. Baker blew out another long jet of smoke and said, “See you later, Loser. We're under new management, and things are definitely looking up!” Seven down, one to go.
8. FAREWELL, MY LOVE, THE SEQUEL.
I parked the newly christened Philosophy Mobile in front of Shayla's home next to the Patrick House of Mortuary.
“I'm just going to be a minute, Mr. X, I've got to say goodbye to someone.”
“Luther, you take your time, son, the seats in this car are like sitting in the couch in someone's living room. Don't worry if I doze off.”
“You just try to stay awake, I won't be long.”
I took three giant breaths, told myself how confident I was and knocked on Shayla's door.
Her mom answered, looking just as fine as ever.
“Luther, come on in.”
“Hello, Mrs. Patrick, I'm not going to stay, I just want to talk to Shayla for a minute.”
“She and her dad have gone down to Detroit to see the Tigers, Luther.”
“The
Tigers
?”
Mrs. Patrick said, “I know, but it's been a tradition for years. They won't be back until late. Should I have her call you when they get in? It probably won't be until after eleven.”
In a strange way I was kind of relieved. I didn't know if I'd actually be able to apologize to Shayla without ruining it by saying something derogatory about her at the same time.
I was also kind of sad. I really should've told Shayla when I had all those chances. It's like that great philosopher, whose name escapes me at the moment, once said, “He who hesitates is lost.”
“No,” I said to Mrs. Patrick, “I just wanted to say goodbye to Shayla and give her something.”
“Goodbye?”
“Uh, yeah, I'm moving down south to live with my granddad.”
“Oh no! I know Shayla's going to be very disappointed that she wasn't here.”
Sometimes words jump out of your mouth before you can control them. I said, “Really?” And I didn't say it in a neutral way, either, that one word was dripping with desperation and eyes-wide-open-stupidity when I said it.
Mrs. Patrick said, “I know I shouldn't tell you this, Luther, but Shayla has always had something of a crush on you.”
“Really?” This time my voice cracked, something it hasn't done in a good six or seven days.
She laughed. “If only you knew. But you never heard that from me.”
Women! Leave it to one of them to have these strong feelings for a brother but not to have the courage to let him know.
Hmmm, maybe I could stay here in Flint after all, maybe I could live on the north side somewhere where the Sarge doesn't own any houses … then I thought about what Darnell was going to do when he found out that I'd repoed his Rivy Dog and I knew even the love of a good woman wasn't enough to keep me here.
I said, “Well, I've always kinda liked her, too.”
She said, “Yes, Luther, we've all known that. So is your mother closing her businesses?”
I told her, “No, she's staying here while I look after Granddad.” I changed the subject. “Could you give Shayla this for me?”
I handed her last year's science fair gold medal.
“What's this?”
“It's really Shayla's, it's from last year and they gave it to me by mistake.”
Mrs. Patrick looked from the medal to me and said, “I don't understand.”
I started walking back down the front porch steps. I said, “She'll know what it means, but tell her it's a straight-up trade, she's got to send me the silver one.”
Mrs. Patrick followed me to the sidewalk. “Does she have your new address?”
“Not yet, I'm not exactly sure where we'll be, but I've got her email and I'll write to her once I know.”
“Luther, if there's anything that we can do please don't hesitate to call.”
She looked in the front seat of the Rivy and said, “Oh my God!”
Chester X was stone asleep. His face was mashed into the window and his mouth was wide open. You could see his gums, his tonsils and halfway down his throat.
“Oh,” I said, “that's my granddad, he's not dead, I can see his breath steaming up the window.”
Mrs. Patrick said, “You know what, Luther? I am so glad that Shayla's father isn't here right now, I know if he saw this he'd make the most horribly inappropriate comment you could ever imagine.”
She laughed and said, “Luther, I want you to call me once you get there. I'm not real comfortable with this. I'm going to be worried until I hear from you. And I know Shayla will want to say goodbye.”
I said, “I promise, Mrs. Patrick. I'll call you in a couple of days.”
She opened her arms and I walked into them.
This was very uncool. It was probably because I had some sadness about leaving Flint, or because I wouldn't be watching TV with my crew again, or because I wouldn't be seeing Shayla Queen of the Damned Patrick for a long time, but something about Mrs. Patrick's hug was making me want to hold on and cry.
I held Shayla's mom way past that time that most
women do that squirming-uncomfortable thing, but she never did. She didn't even give me those little doggie pats on the back to let me know the hug should be ending soon, she just let me hold her.
Finally I let go.
She said, “I'll be waiting for your call, Luther. You really should talk to Shayla, too.”
I pulled myself together and said, “No joke, Mrs. Patrick, I'll call in a couple of days.”
I jumped into the Riviera and headed out to I-75, a road that runs all the way from Michigan to Florida. And if that's not a sign I don't know one when I see it.
As I pulled onto the expressway I couldn't help thinking of that great philosopher, whose name escapes me at the moment, who once said, “He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day.”
Turning up the radio in the Philosophy Mobile to muffle my new granddad's snoring, I put the seat all the way back, got a little lean going on and hit the cruise control.
And I left Flint behind.
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
Sparky and Luther are very different, but they have a close friendship. What do you think makes them such good friends, and why are they so loyal to each other?
Luther is very compassionate: he returns KeeKee's papers and takes care of the Crew. In a town and in a family in which many of the people are quite selfish, why do you think Luther is this way?
What is the significance of the character D.O.G. (Dontay Orlando Gaddy)? Why do you think it's important to the story that Luther and Sparky pay a visit to him?
Are there times in the story when you think the Sarge gives good advice? Do you think she cares about Luther?
In chapter eight, the Sarge explains why she decided to milk the system and avoid the “sucker path.” What do you think of the reasons she gives for her behavior?
Luther could tell the mayor or the police at the science fair about the Sarge's criminal activity as a landlord, but instead, he chooses to take what he feels he deserves and leave. Why does he leave town without turning the Sarge in?
Chester X becomes something of a father to Luther. Do you trust him? Do you think Luther and Chester X will succeed in Florida?
What do you think Luther will be doing in two years? What do you think Sparky will be doing? What will happen to KeeKee and Bo?
A CONVERSATION WITH CHRISTOPHER PAUL CURTIS
Q. What inspired you to write this story? Why did Luther appeal to you as a protagonist?
A. Different writers do things differently. Maybe another author can tell you exactly what inspires him or her to write a particular story; I honestly can't. I think the genesis of
Bucking the Sarge
came when I had an apartment in Flint that was next door to a group home for developmentally challenged adults. When I'd come home from work I used to see a young man, probably thirteen or fourteen, who would sit on the front porch of the home for hours. He wasn't a resident; his mother worked there, and for whatever reason, she felt it was best to have him close at hand. I remember thinking at the time that his was a rough life. He stayed in a dark corner of my mind for many years.
Then in the late nineties there was a lot of talk of corporate malfeasance, and the guilty parties seemed like ordinary people who made horrible decisions. Their rationale was often that they were simply trying to make more and more money. And, sad though it is, money is one of the main ways a person's value is measured in our society. These men (and they were pretty exclusively men) were greatly admired; they were pillars of society and they were very powerful individuals. They were also cheats and thieves.
I understood their greed and imagined what a smaller-scale version of them would be. Around the same time, the little fellow from the group home came out of the shadows and popped back into my mind. From there it was a small step to combine the corporate criminals and the kid and come up with the Sarge.
I'm not so sure I can say Luther T. Farrell “appealed” to me as a protagonist. That question implies I had some type of conscious control over who was telling the story
and why. Luther chose me and I simply took notes for him. Once I got to know him, I did like him; he kind of grew on me.
Q. Is this story at all autobiographical? Did you base any of the characters on people you know?
A. I think all of my characters are amalgams of people I know, myself, people I might like to know, and people who simply serve to advance the story. Usually, with my writing, the larger the role a character plays, the more of an amalgam he or she is. There might be minor characters that are, in my eyes anyway, pretty accurate descriptions of particular people, but this very fact limits my use of them and their usefulness to the story.
Q. Why is Luther so interested in philosophy and in science and the science fair? Does this reflect your own interest?
A. I believe (and just because I'm the author doesn't mean I am the final authority on this) that one of the really great things about reading, as opposed to television and movies, is that the reader himself or herself provides so much of the background story and meaning of everything. Whew! Let me start again. I believe Luther uses philosophy and science as tools to answer and frame some of the really big questions in his life.
His love of science is due to the fact that it is a pretty much hard-and-fast subject; it provides certainty. And certainty is something that Luther sorely needs after years of dealing with the Sarge's quibbling, rationalizing, and constant justifications for bad behavior. Luther is sick of seeing the grays of life and wants to be assured that something is either black or white. Science does this; it can prove or disprove something with an experiment.
Personally, my highlight in a science fair was the same vinegar and baking soda volcano that Luther scoffs at in the story. I used to read
Popular Science
and other such magazines, but I think that came less from an interest in science and more from an interest in deciding what color my flying car would be when everybody had one, which the magazines promised would be by 1988.
As far as philosophy is concerned, Luther will probably someday be truly interested in philosophers and their complex world of thought, but it seems to me that right now he is really more interested in aphorisms than actual philosophy. I think he uses these general truth-based sayings as a compass, as a way of introducing a sense of moral structure into his life.
I probably fall into the same camp as Luther. I think I'm more of an aphorism-type guy. Some very talented people have the tremendous skill to be able to sum up so much of life in a few words. I think one of the greatest of these aphorist-philosophers is Mark Twain, and my favorite of his is “First God created idiots. That was for practice. Then He created school boards.” Wow! In light of much of the business that school boards have been involved in recently, that is a great saying that is made even greater by the fact that it was written more than a hundred years ago.
Q.
At times the Sarge seems to want Luther to succeed. She trades money for a first prize for him in the science fair, and on page 102 she tells him what motivates her. Do you think she has any just reason for treating Luther the way she does?
A. First, we have to keep in mind that
Bucking the Sarge
is a story told in the first person. As such, it is essentially one person's view of the events that occur. I don't think the
Sarge is the ogre that Luther paints her to be. I think if we read between the lines we see that her very raison d'être (How's that for the use of a language by someone who took nearly thirty years to graduate from third-semester French? Are we all impressed?
Oui, oui!
It means reason for being or reason for existing) is to make sure her child doesn't end up in the way so many of his peers will. She has experienced and seen firsthand the trap that lies in wait for many African American, Hispanic, Native American, and other children. She has analyzed the situation and feels that the only sure way out of this trap is money. She knows the difference cash makes in our society, and even though she also is obviously bright enough to see that education is important, I think she feels that if the money is there, the education will take care of itself.
I think she's hit the nail squarely on the head. Her aim is to improve Luther's life through increasing their economic clout; this she does. She clearly makes bad decisions, but we are catching this picture of her empire-building in a nascent stage. Given time, if she continues to amass the benjamins, I'm sure she'll do what so many “great” Americans have done: she'll serve on the right boards of directors, she'll give conspicuously to the right charities, and she'll eventually cover her semi–ill-gotten wealth in a cloak of respectability. The MREs, the insurance scams, the loan barracuda-ing, the government agency fraud all will eventually be forgotten and she will be celebrated for being a model citizen. I mean, if we can celebrate “America's first black woman millionaire,” Madam C. J. Walker, who made her fortune capitalizing on black self-hatred by selling hair straighteners and skin bleachers, but who eventually did much good with her money, can the Sarge be far behind?
Q. As you were writing
Bucking the Sarge
, who was your favorite character?
A. I think complex characters are always the most fun ones to read about and to create, and who in this book is more complex than the Sarge?
Is she evil? Hardly. Is she misguided? Thoroughly.
Q. What was the most difficult part of writing this book?
A. Hard question to answer. I so completely love writing that there aren't many parts of it that I would describe as difficult. Maybe my least favorite thing, and keep in mind that this is relative, would be reading the first letter I get back from my editor, Wendy Lamb. I've noticed a pattern: on the first page she tells me what she likes about the book, and on the next forty or fifty pages she breaks down the book's “problems.” So I read the first page, then set the rest aside for a couple of weeks before I'm up to looking at it.
I think
Bucking the Sarge
took a long time to write not because of any difficulties but because my work ethic changed. Writing, for me, is a lot like a physical activity, in that it's possible to fall in and out of shape. Just like with playing basketball or any other sport, if you lay off for a while, it takes time to get back in condition. I stopped looking at my writing as a job in the sense that it was something I'd do nearly every day; instead, I wrote when I felt like it. This would lead to three-or-four-week periods when there was no writing and I'd fall out of shape. When I'd pick up the book and start writing again, I'd find that I'd lost the pitch of the voice I had when I'd quit. It would take me a while to get that voice back; then the whole process would repeat itself. I learned a valuable lesson.
Q. What do you think Luther will be doing in two years? What do you think Sparky will be doing? What will happen to KeeKee and Bo?
A. Many times when I speak to students about my books, I'm asked, “What happened to So-and-so … ?” I always reply, “Just because I wrote the book doesn't mean I know the right answers.” Most times, for a question like this, there aren't any right or wrong answers. This is one of the things that makes reading so special—we all contribute mightily to our own understanding of what happens.
In
my
opinion, their fates two years down the road will be drastically different. There is no doubt in my mind that Luther will be thriving. If we take the foundation that the Sarge has given him and the cushion of his cash and add them to his own drive and ability to get things done, I think we have a recipe for success. I think Luther has been primed to accomplish anything he wants to. Say what you will about the Sarge, but I think she did prepare Luther for life.
Sparky's future is on much shakier ground. So much of what we turn out to be is established when we are young, and is influenced by the older people in our lives. Unfortunately, Sparky's early life wasn't all that positive. The foundation he's operating on is nowhere near as solid as Luther's. I think he will have moved to Florida with Luther, but I also think he'll discover that problems are extremely difficult, if not impossible, to run away from. I think Sparky's on a quest for the easy way out, a quest that often leads to the hard things in life.
KeeKee's and Bo's lives will probably be even harder than Sparky's. While it would be great to imagine they will use their love for each other and their strength to prosper, the odds say that just won't happen. Children born in poverty are at a tremendous disadvantage when
compared to children born in comfort or affluence. The smallest things that a person with money takes for granted are of a different world for so many poor children. Is that to say that poor children can never do well? Of course not. But they will have to travel a road infinitely more difficult and treacherous than a child who “has.” This is one of the reasons we should be very careful about making thoughtless statements such as “All ‘they’ have to do is try harder” or “‘They’ are so lucky to be in America, ‘they’ just need to take advantage of all the things that are offered to them.” With that in mind, I'm afraid that the next two years, and the years that follow, for Bo and KeeKee will not be times of celebration.