“I can’t believe it,” I said, looking after them.
“I can’t believe it either,” Natasha murmured, but she was looking at me. “This boy is
bewitching
you, Flan. Why are we fol- lowing him? You were always a maiden never bold, of spirit so still and quiet that your motion blushed at herself. And yet in spite of your nature, of years, of country, of credit, everything, you fell in love with such a jerk! Look at him! Your judgment is maimed, imperfect! Why would you fall for him? I mean, Douglas turned out to be a–well, you know how Douglas turned out–but he has always been
kind
.” She practically spat out the word. “And now you have another kind boy, a
nice
boy, who would do any- thing in the world for you, and who do you follow in a car? Somebody who screwed you over, who will probably screw
Kate
over, and are you angry about this? Are you going to heed your fucking Calc teacher just once in your life and
do something
? What has he
done
to you, Flan? I vouch again that with some mixtures pow’rful o’er the blood or with some dram, conjured to this effect, he has wrought upon you!”
“What the hell’s a dram?”
“Look it up,” she snapped, and pulled out from the curb. “Don’t drive so fast,” I said, “or they’ll see us.”
“You’re acting like a nut,” she said, swerving and sipping. I watched her throat swallow it; she looked so
alive
, like I could just reach out and touch her neck, her hair.
“I can’t believe you’re calling
me
a nut,” I said. “Have you for- gotten who the famed Roewer Absinthe Poisoner is?”
She grinned, finally relaxing, and turned to me as she ran a stop sign. “Poisoness,” she said.
“Poisonous is right.” Our wit will preserve us all. “You’re missing the student lot.”
“No, no,” she said, lurching into it just in time. “Do you think I could get away with parking in the faculty lot, like V does?” “Oh yeah,” I said. “I think it’s your shrunken head earrings
that make you look most like a–” Oh.
“What?” she said, and followed my eyes. Kate and Adam were kissing, quietly. It was the
quietly
that got to me, I think. If they’d been passionate about it–tearing their clothes off and rebuttoning them incorrectly–they’d have been lustfully reckless. But they were kissing in short bursts, little pats like kisses from birds. Kissing quietly, softly, like they were in love. I was crying and crying.
“Oh my dear Flan,” Natasha said quietly, tossing her head back and finishing the flask off. She licked her lips and then wiped them on her hand, her dark lipstick staining her wrist like a sui- cide. “What has he done to you. What has he done to you.”
“I don’t know,” I blubbered.
She sighed, equal parts exasperation and love. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll take care of everything.”
“What?”
“I said I’ll take care of everything.” “Natasha,
no
,” I said.
“What, am I setting a bad example for the other children?” she said, smiling sharply.
“
No
,” I said.
“No, I’m not a bad example, or
no
, I shouldn’t take care of things?”
“
No
,” I said. Let it be known, I said no. Nine days.
Vocabulary:
RESONANCE DEPROGRAMMED COMATOSENESS INTERROGATED SUCCUMBED DRAM
SOMBER SINGEING
*
*
Not “singing.”
Study Questions:
Did your opinion of Eleanor Tert change when you learned that she’s a re- covering cocaine-addicted stewardess? (If you already knew this due to her numerous television and radio appearances, not to mention her books, pretend you just learned it.)
Has your opinion of Flannery Culp changed over the course of this book? What changes your opinion of people, and what should be done about that? Consider that Eleanor Tert is now enormously successful and Flan is–well, you know where she is.
The Rebecca Boone Memorial Hospital is named after Rebecca Boone, pion- eerswoman and wife of Daniel Boone. Though the
Boone family is now regarded as a pillar of early American history with their exploration of the frontier and their support during the Revolutionary War, the Boone family was twice forced off their land due to legal loopholes against which Daniel had a philosophical and moral objection. Despite these attempts by the legal system to destroy these people, however, Americans eventually learned the truth, and the Boones have now had their reputations overturned to the point that Rebecca Boone has a hospital named after her. Can you think of anyone else who is being treated unfairly by the legal profession? Can you help spread the truth about her, perhaps give her name to a new library, or bookstore?
Do you think friends should do things for one another, or people should do things for themselves? Consider the consequences of doing things–at least certain things–before answering.
Monday October 25th
Six.
“Homeroom has been extended today so all of you have the chance to complete this voluntary survey. Dr. Eleanor Tert, who all of you saw speak last Wednesday at the all-school assembly, has provided for us an all-school survey to help us. Recent events at Roewer High School have revealed problems which are facing virtually all adolescents in our country today, and Dr. Tert will be conducting a study here at the school through informal inter- views of select students and faculty as well as these completely voluntary all-school surveys. You have twenty-five minutes to fill them out. Please don’t forget to put your name in the upper right-hand corner. Anonymity is guaranteed.”
PLEASE CIRCLE ALL THAT APPLY (male, female).
Well, both “male” and “female” apply. Just one of them applies to me. I circled “female.”
PLEASE CIRCLE ALL THAT APPLY (Freshman, Sophomore, Junior, Senior).
I circled “Senior.”
PLEASE CIRCLE THE SENTENCE THAT BEST DESCRIBES YOUR FAMILY:
My family is perfect.
My family has few problems.
My family has problems but is mostly OK.
My family has many problems.
My family has lots and lots of problems.
Orphaned.
Orphaned
? I looked over, but Natasha was still hunched over her desk.
PLEASE CIRCLE THE SENTENCE THAT BEST DESCRIBES YOUR SEXUAL ACTIVITY:
I have had no sexual contact with the opposite sex (i.e., virgin).
I have had little sexual contact with the opposite sex (i.e., kissing).
I have had some sexual contact with the opposite sex (i.e., petting).
I have had sexual intercourse with only one person.
I have had sexual intercourse with more than one person.
Homosexual.
Douglas must be living in hell. I circled “d,” for Douglas.
PLEASE CIRCLE THE SENTENCE THAT BEST DESCRIBES
YOUR USE OF ALCOHOL:
I have never had any alcohol (i.e., virgin).
I sometimes have one beer or one glass of wine.
I sometimes have several drinks but do not get drunk.
I drink fairly often but don’t get drunk often.
I drink and get drunk almost all the time.
Twelve-step program (good for you!).
I leaned over and tried to see if Natasha had circled “e,” but I still couldn’t catch her eye. I circled “d,” crossed it out and circled “c,” crossed “c” out, and tried to recircle “d.”
PLEASE CIRCLE THE SENTENCE THAT BEST DESCRIBES YOUR USE OF ILLICIT DRUGS:
I have never used illicit drugs.
I have tried drugs once or twice.
I rarely use drugs.
I use drugs fairly often and am addicted to one drug.
I use drugs fairly often and am addicted to all of them.
Twelve-step program (good for you!).
c.
PLEASE CIRCLE THE DRUGS YOU HAVE EXPERIMENTED WITH:
Marijuana.
Cocaine.
Heroin.
LSD.
Mushrooms.
Angel dust.
Uppers or downers.
Trickettes.
Fingerbars.
Euphoria.
Moonbeams.
Tears of Love.
“Singing Pills.”
Snopes.
Other. (If so, list them.)
With which you have experimented
. Needless to say, I didn’t put down absinthe in case the folks at Rebecca Boone had found something. I wonder if Natasha did.
PLEASE CIRCLE THE SENTENCE WHICH BEST DESCRIBES YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH GOD:
I have strong beliefs in God in accordance with a commonly accep- ted religion and follow these beliefs always.
I have strong beliefs in God in accordance with a commonly accep- ted religion but do not always follow these beliefs.
I have some beliefs in God in accordance with a commonly accepted religion and follow them sometimes.
I have some beliefs in God, but they are my own and not in accord- ance with a commonly accepted religion.
Other. (If so, list them.)
Atheist.
PLEASE CIRCLE THE SENTENCE WHICH BEST DESCRIBES YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH SATAN:
I fear Satan according to my commonly accepted religion.
I am occasionally tempted by Satan.
I do not believe in Satan at all.
I occasionally serve Satan.
Other. (If so, list them.)
Satanist.
Look, we didn’t know. You have the advantage. You
know
it’s six days. All
we
knew was that it was October 25th, senior year, time to really get going on college applications, this last Roewer year stretched out in front of us like a dying whale on a dirty beach. It smelled. Small children were poking at it. Authorities and sci- entists would arrive soon to chop it into pieces, but we didn’t know that, so all of us,
all of us
checked “e.” On the horizontal horizon bare before us we wrote variations of the same joke: “Satan is the mother of a friend of mine.” “I know Satan’s daughter personally.” And the chiller. The one highlighted by a thin band of light, so when the entire page was shown on TV the innocent bystanders would know where to look. Often it was credited to me–a possibility that was too delicious for everyone to ignore. “Had I known the warning signs, I could have stopped them. My son would be sitting next to me today on your show, Winnie.” As if you’d even be on the show if he hadn’t been beaten to death in Satan’s lovely garden in the first place. As if your ap- pearance on the show means anything, Eleanor Tert’s book means anything, as if it means anything that no matter what we wrote on an all-school survey, that it means anything to look at question 9 and see written there, in casual inside-joke ballpoint ink, “I am the spawn of Satan.”
Tuesday October 26th
Five days. If you were counting on your fingers you’d be down to your last hand. Do a little preview with me, starting with your pinkie: Five, four, three, two, one. Then nothing. Then he’s dead.
When I woke up this morning I was already on the
bus; don’t know how I managed that. I was staring out the win- dow for a few minutes before I noticed that Lily was sitting next to me.
“Oh, hi. Sorry. I’m so spacey this morning, I don’t even know how I ended up on this bus.”
“It’s OK. Hey, have you heard the big weekend plan that will save us from this week’s horror?”
“No,” I said.
“Well, believe it or not, V ’s parents are leaving for
five days
. Sunday we’re going to have a garden party, well into the even- ing.”
“Sunday?”
“Yeah, and we thought we could all call in sick Monday morning, just lounge around Satan’s Palace.”
“Are you sure I’m invited?” I said. “Nobody mentioned any- thing to me.”
“V just found out last night. She said your line was busy.” “Natasha and I were just gossiping. You should have had the
operator break into the line for an event like this.” I had in fact been arguing with Natasha over what she was going to do to Adam, if she should do anything, whether I should do anything, whether I was an idiot. Nothing was resolved, in case you’re curious.
“Well, of course you’re invited.
Everybody’s
invited, although the morning-after thing will be just
us
.”
“Sounds absolutely wonderful,” I said. It did. Go on, take a minute to count down to Sunday. Count on one hand.
Wednesday October 27th
Four days.
This morning the Spawn of Satan was waiting for me just out- side the faculty parking lot, near the side entrance. She was sitting on a bench, fiddling with her
pearls and
smoking
. V ,
smoking
. Unbelievable.
“Hello, Flan,” she said, biting her lip. She stood up suddenly, like she’d just heard a loud noise. The smoke wisped into the fog so for a minute it looked like the whole San Francisco sky came from V ’s menthol.
“Hi,” I said uncertainly. Then, more certainly, “You’re smoking.”
“Am I?” she said. “I hadn’t checked.” A reference to a joke of ours: Do you smoke after sex? I don’t know, I never check. Wer- en’t we witty? All those one-liners crumpling like paper. She raised the cigarette to her lips again but she couldn’t puff. It–
she
–was trembling.
“What’s wrong?” I said.
She blinked. The cigarette dropped. “What?”
I crushed it out with my foot. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She blinked again and suddenly was crying, just outside the faculty parking lot, near the side entrance to Roewer High School. Shakily she took a tissue out of her pocket, but instead of wiping her eyes she uncrumpled it and gave it to me to read.
V ,
It just isn’t working out between us. Please don’t call me.