13 Read Free

upbeat.
    â€œThis one by the window would be perfect,” she said with a smile. “Evan. Help me unpack.”
    It was almost eleven thirty by then. I was completely overwhelmed and exhausted. I was hungry. Simon was following me around trying to get me to throw a disgusting old tennis ball covered with dog spit. As far as I was concerned, she could unpack her suitcase just fine by herself.
    I helped her unpack.
    Â 
    The next day we went to a local department store to shop for what my mother thought were fun “boy” things for my room. I mostly stared straight ahead in a daze.
    My cell phone buzzed. It was a text from Bill.
    got both lips
    My fingers were suddenly trembling so badly I typed back:
    u kiss mgma?
    Bill knew who I meant. He texted again:
    made out at Jenny C’s BM 8 mins!
    I leaned back against a new washer-dryer set. At that point I wouldn’t have minded throwing myself inside and setting the dial to “disappear.”
    Another text:
    goin 2 the movies w her tonite!
    â€œSay, Evan?” It was Mom, holding up two lamp-shades. “Which one do you like better?”
    My second-best friend had horned in on my sort-of girl at Jenny Cohen’s bat mitzvah, and my mother expected opinions on interior decoration?
    â€œEvan?” she said.
    I needed air.
    â€œOkay,” Mom called as I ran past household cleansers to the door. “I’m picking the green one!”
    We got home at four, loaded down with lamp-shades, throw rugs, detergent, tube socks, trash bags, and a million other things I wished I could go through life never having to think about. Once I was done unloading the car, I went to my room, shut the door, and reached for The Fellowship of the Ring . I guess I was trying to block out the Midwest by losing myself in Middle Earth. Didn’t work. Just before dinner, I heard the phone ring.
    â€œEvan!” Pam called. “Your father!”
    My dad! A voice from my real life! From the city of my birth! I was up from my bed like a shot. But as I opened the door, I stopped short. I looked around me. The weird African art. The papier-mâché cactus. The stupid plastic chickens! Why should I speak to the man whose raging libido had relegated me to a life in hell?
    â€œTell him I’m out,” I said.
    â€œBut honey,” Pam said, “I already told him you were here.”
    â€œTell him he can talk to Mom!”
    I slammed the door so hard, the New York highway sign in the living room crashed to the floor.
    I’ll spare you a detailed description of my next few days as a citizen of the Hoosier State. I guess it’s important to say that Dad called every night before dinner and that each time I refused to talk, then gave my closet door a few swift kicks. I might’ve busted it off its hinges if I hadn’t found a way to work off some of my rage. Pam had an old ten-speed that fit me perfectly. I spent a few days riding past homes and farms and more homes and more farms. As for stores? Well, for a guy who grew up in a city with all-night everything, there wasn’t much. Pam lived a few blocks from Appleton’s main street (actually called “Main Street”) but the pickings were slim. There wasn’t even aStarbucks. Along with Pam’s store, there was an ice cream parlor called Calvi’s, a general store, an Italian restaurant, and an Army Navy. I guess if you wanted a chocolate sundae and a pair of fatigues, you were all set.
    What the town lacked in shopping options it made up for in churches. Main Street was brimming with them. The First Presbyterians, the Methodists, the Unitarians, and the Lutherans—they had them all. There was only one house of worship that seemed to be missing.
    When I realized there was no synagogue, I relaxed a little bit for the first time since I had arrived. After all, how was I going to have a bar mitzvah when there was no rabbi in town?
    I think it was day seven post–New