Bream Gives Me Hiccups (3 page)

ORGANIX VS. THE SAN GENNARO STREET FESTIVAL

Last night Mom and I went to two very different eating places: an organic restaurant and a street fair. And even though these places were very different, each one made me think about the other one in a new way, which is why I am writing about them together.

The first place we went to is called Organix and it is an organic and vegan restaurant, which is kind of like going to the doctor for dinner. On the sign outside, under the name Organix, are the words “Helping the Earth Grow,” which makes no sense because the Earth is not getting any bigger, which is something I learned a long time ago and I'm nine.

When they give you the menu at Organix, they also give you a little booklet called
The Organix Bible
, which I guess is named after the real Bible, which is the story of Jesus Christ
and God.
The Organix Bible
has a few pages, and while Mom pretended to read it, I actually did read it.

The Organix Bible
was just kind of bragging about how great Organix was by saying things like, “At Organix, we offset our light footprint in Mother Earth's beautiful skin by composting all organic material.” And I thought that maybe it was a good thing to recycle, but saying things like “Mother Earth's beautiful skin” seemed kind of stupid and like it was written by a weird child.

Mom pretended like she was happy with the food, even though it was all disgusting raw vegetables, and acted like she normally eats this way because when the waiter asked if everything was good, Mom smiled and said, “Yes, I love the dressing, what is it?” And the guy said, “Aloe,” and then Mom said, “I thought so! That's normally what we eat at home.” And the guy said, “Yeah, it really soothes your digestive tract and warms the lumen.” But I could tell Mom didn't know what he was talking about because she said, “And I think I recently read something about cancer.” And the guy just kind of nodded because there was no real way to respond to what Mom said.

When the guy asked if we wanted dessert, Mom lied and said, “I'd love to see a menu.” The guy said there was no dessert menu but that “Tonight's dessert is apples.” That made me and Mom laugh a little bit and Mom said, “Just apples?” And the guy explained that the apples were special and from the other side of the country. And he seemed so proud of his apples that I felt bad for laughing, but Mom didn't feel bad and she kept laughing as she said, “We'll just take the check.”
I guess I feel bad for people more quickly than Mom does and that is one difference I've noticed about us.

The first thing Mom said when we left Organix was: “Somebody bring me a hamburger!” But I didn't know who she was talking to and I'm not allowed to go food shopping alone.

As we were walking back to the car, we passed the San Gennaro Street Festival, which Mom said is “a party that Italian people have outside every year so the city can clean up their mess.” The food smelled so good though, especially after being in Organix, which smelled like a bathroom that just got cleaned. When I asked Mom if we could get something to eat from the street fair, she said that all the food was disgusting. I said that the food at Organix was disgusting too, and Mom agreed but said at least the food at Organix wouldn't kill us like the San Genarro food.

I asked Mom for zeppoles, which are fried balls of dough with powdered sugar. Zeppoles are the kind of food that is really good while you're eating it but that makes you feel disgusting right after. I guess that's why the San Gennaro Street Festival can only happen once a year.

Mom said no to the zeppoles but said, “I think we've earned a cannoli.” I asked her how we “earned” it and she said, “After ingesting aloe, I deserve a side of beef and a birthday cake.” It's weird how Mom thinks that eating something you don't like is the same thing as hard work.

In our search for a cannoli, we passed four cannoli stands and each one had a different sign:

The sign on the first cannoli stand said,
THE CITY
'
S BEST CANNOLI
.

The sign on the second cannoli stand said,
OLDEST CANNOLI RECIPE
.

The sign on the third cannoli stand said,
WORLD
'
S BEST CANNOLI!!!

The fourth cannoli stand did not have any sign. It just had a glass window to show the cannolis, which looked like all the other cannolis.

Mom said, in a low and serious voice, “Okay, mister. Which one should we get?” like it was an important test. I said that I thought they were probably all the same and that it didn't matter, but Mom said we had to find the best one.

Since there was no way to figure out which cannoli was the best, we had to use the signs to tell us which one to get. I thought very hard about this. And I started thinking that each sign maybe attracts a different kind of person and maybe you could actually tell a little about a person from the cannoli that they choose. For example, maybe someone who really likes New York would get a cannoli from the stand that says, the city's best cannoli, and maybe someone who was old or a chef would get one from the stand that says,
OLDEST CANNOLI RECIPE.

But I decided that I wanted to get a cannoli from the stand with no sign because I was thinking that, by not having a sign, the stand was not trying to prove anything to me, and I liked them the most. And, in a way, the thing I didn't like about Organix was the same thing I didn't like about the signs: the more they told me how great they were and how much they were helping the Earth, the less I wanted to believe it.

I said, “I want to get a cannoli from the stand with no
sign,” but Mom marched up to the
WORLD
'
S BEST
!!! stand and got two cannolis. When I asked her why she chose the
WORLD
'
S BEST
!!! stand, she said, “It's the world's best cannoli! That means there can't be any better cannoli. In the world! Think about it!”

But I did think about it. And I think that Mom was wrong. Just because someone says something doesn't mean it's true. And I think that the more someone says something, the less it's probably going to be true. That's why I'm giving Organix 147 out of 2000 stars and the San Gennaro Street Festival
WORLD
'
S BEST CANNOLI
!!! stand 162 out of 2000 stars.

THANKSGIVING WITH VEGANS

Last night, Mom and I went to Thanksgiving dinner at a Vegan family's house, which is kind of like going to temple for Christmas. Mom said that Vegans are “people who don't eat any meat or cheese or shave,” and since Mom doesn't like to cook, she decided that we needed to go to our neighbors' house for Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving used to be my favorite holiday because Mom and Dad and I would drive up to Dad's parents' house and Dad and I would roll down the humongous hill in Grandpa's backyard while Grandma cooked with Mom.

But when Dad left Mom to be in love with another woman, Mom told me that I was never allowed to speak to Dad's parents again, which I thought was unfair because they were my grandparents and we have a separate relationship.

I also used to love Thanksgiving because of the food. Grandma would make a huge turkey with gravy and stuffing, and everyone would make a big deal about Grandpa carving the turkey like he had a special skill that the rest of us could never learn.

But our neighbors, the Vegans, don't eat turkey or real gravy and they don't put marshmallows on top of their sweet potatoes because they said that marshmallows come from horse feet, which I didn't know and hope is a lie.

Not only do they not eat turkey, but the Vegans placed framed pictures of two turkeys on their Thanksgiving table with the turkeys' names underneath, which were “Mable” and “Todd.” It was strange to see pictures of turkeys because no one ever really takes pictures of turkeys, and it was even stranger to see that they had names because no one really names turkeys, especially with a name like “Todd,” which sounds like the name of a boy who asks the teacher for more homework.

All of the foods were labeled with little turkey-shaped signs, and I remembered the names carefully so that I know to avoid them in future Thanksgivings. The main foods were “Lentil and Mushroom Loaf with Savory Potato Filling” and “Stuffed Maple Tofu” and the side foods were “Gluten-Free(!) Spinach Roasted Fingerlings” and “King Oyster Whipped Sweet Potatoes with Herbs” (and without marshmallows).

Reading the weird names of the foods, I suddenly missed Dad and I thought that maybe Mom did too even though she always says that she hates him. I think that, even if you hate someone, it's easy to miss them on the holidays.

Before we were allowed to eat, we had to go around the room and say what we were thankful for. At Grandma and Grandpa's house we would do the same thing but more as a joke. It would always be funny and sarcastic, like Grandpa would say, “I'm thankful Grandma didn't burn the turkey like last year,” and Grandma would say to Grandpa, “I'm thankful that you lost your teeth so that you'll only be able to eat the sweet potatoes.”

But the Vegans said things that were sincere, like “family” and “togetherness,” and Mom rolled her eyes at me and I rolled mine back at her and it made me feel good. I like it when Mom rolls her eyes with me because it's like having a silent secret with someone.

The Vegan Mom said she was thankful for her “enlightened consciousness” and that it was important to “keep turkeys, like Todd and Mable, in our hearts on this dark holiday.” She said that turkeys are “beautiful and brilliant creatures who like music and dancing,” which seemed kind of strange and probably not true. But then she described how the turkeys are killed and it made me feel really guilty and also nauseous. Before the turkeys are killed, she said, they are packed into tiny cages where they can't even turn around and, in order to make sure that the turkeys don't attack each other, they get their beaks and toes cut off with hot blades and then are boiled alive to get their feathers off. I pictured myself in a tight cage, not being able to turn around, and then getting my toes cut off and being boiled alive. Picturing yourself in someone else's life is called “empathy,” which Mom says I have too much of.

I thought it was strange that the Vegan Mom described how turkeys were killed to a group of people who were about to eat tofu. It kind of felt like she was trying to sell me the shirt I was already wearing.

I don't totally think the Vegan people are so weird. In a way, it is more weird to eat a bird. We would all think it was disgusting to go outside and kill a bird and tear its head off and then stuff its body with croutons and celery and put it in an oven, but for some reason, we think it's normal to go to a supermarket and buy a turkey and cook it. I guess I'm being hypocritical by eating turkeys and I don't really know what to think about this.

I think it's really sad the way that animals are killed. But it's also really sad that I used to have Thanksgiving with my grandparents and now I'm not allowed to talk to them because Dad loves someone else. I guess that there are a lot of sad things in the world and sometimes eating turkey with the people you love makes you happy and maybe it would make the turkey happy to know that this was happening with its body. Probably not, but maybe.

If the turkey really liked music and dancing, maybe it would also like to know that I was rolling down Grandpa's hill with Dad and then eating its body. Probably not, but maybe. Maybe some things are too difficult for me to understand right now. Probably not, but maybe. That's why I'm giving the Vegan Thanksgiving 1000 out of 2000 stars.

MATTHEW'S HOUSE

Last night, I had dinner at Matthew's House, which Mom says is a “broken home” because Matthew's parents are divorced. When I asked Mom if we also lived in a broken home because she is divorced from Dad, she said, “No.” When I asked her what the difference was, she said, “We still have money and all that woman has is rage and infertility.”

I don't think Mom likes Matthew's mom. She always calls her “a slut with a bad nose job,” but I just call her Paula because once I called her “Miss Fisher” and she said, “Just call me Paula.”

I also think Mom doesn't like Matthew. She always makes weird jokes like, “In a few years, you two will finally be able to make honest men out of each other.” I thought this was a weird thing to say because Matthew and I are almost always
honest and Mom's the one who always lies. In fact, any time we're about to meet one of her friends, Mom gives me a list of lies I'm supposed to remember like, “Carol thinks I have a brother in the hospital in Cleveland,” or “Denise doesn't know about the divorce, she thinks Dad is dead, just go with it.”

Mom was right about Matthew and Paula not having any money. They don't even live in a real house; they live in a small weird building that's connected to other small weird buildings. Matthew calls it a “town house” but Mom calls it “the ghetto.” When I asked Mom what a ghetto is, she told me to ask Esmeralda, the woman who cleans our house on Thursdays.

And they don't even own a car. Mom says that Paula gets “sympathy rides” to work in exchange for “HJs.” When I asked Mom what an HJ was, she told me to ask Esmeralda.

Before dinner, Paula said, “Make sure you boys wash your paws,” and Matthew growled like a lion and they both laughed. I wanted to ask them what they were talking about but I felt embarrassed.

Paula made a really nice dinner even though it's what Mom calls an “in-between” meal. An “in-between” meal is food that is not very fancy but also not very cheap. Mom says we shouldn't eat “in-between” meals. When I'm eating with Mom, we either eat a fancy meal, like when we go to a nice restaurant, or we eat a really cheap meal, like when Mom gives me a can of beans from the pantry and a peppermint candy from her purse for dessert. Mom says that the cheap meals allow us to eat the fancy ones more often and “in-between” meals are a waste.

But Paula's meal was “in-between” and also really good. For a salad, she made a basic salad with lettuce but she mixed in interesting fruits like slices of mandarin oranges and cranberries. It was actually really good and Paula said that one bowl of this salad will give us all the fruits and vegetables we need for the day. This seemed like a great idea but also made me think that I do not normally eat enough fruits or vegetables, and I didn't even realize that this was a thing I should be doing.

And for the main dinner, Paula made a quiche, which is like a serious version of pie. It had spinach and egg and cheese and it tasted so good that I asked for seconds, which is something Mom told me to not get in a habit of doing. The bottom of the quiche was doughy and so delicious and melted in my mouth and the sides were crusty like a cookie and the cheese and spinach were melty together in the fluffy egg. I know it sounds really weird but I actually liked the quiche more than real pie, which is what you're supposed like more.

When I told Paula how much I liked the quiche, she said in a weird voice that was supposed to sound like a pirate, “Aye, bucko. Ye sure know how to flatter a wench!”

I didn't know what she was talking about, so I just said, “Don't worry. I don't think you're a wench.”

And then Matthew and Paula looked at each other strangely and laughed (at me, I think).

A few minutes later, when Matthew spilled a little soda on the table, Paula said again in her pirate voice, “Aye! Now you're going to the brig, matey!”

And then Matthew said, also in a pirate voice, “Argh! Just when me hunger is arousing the most!”

And then Paula said, in a different pirate voice, “Ye best be getting a napkin from ye sink to clean up this here soda!”

Then Matthew said something else in a pirate voice and then they were both talking in pirate voices and laughing.

I thought that I should maybe talk like a pirate too, but I never practiced that voice so I thought it might come out wrong. And I couldn't tell if they were laughing at the pirate voice or the lines they were saying, and I was worried that if I just did the voice but didn't say the right pirate lines, they would think I was stupid.

And the weirdest part was that Matthew was my best friend but I never heard him do a pirate voice before. Sometimes at school, he pretends he's a rich woman from the South and it's so funny. He waves his hand in front of his face like it's an old-timey fan and says, “That gentleman caller saw me before I put my face on, bless his heart! Now I have the vapors!” It's so funny.

But every time Matthew did the pirate voice to Paula, I felt like a “third wheel,” which is an expression I recently learned from Mom. After Dad left Mom, Mom didn't want to go out to dinner with any of her married friends because she said it made her feel like a “third wheel.” When I asked her what this meant, she told me that a third wheel is “someone who no one loves.” And I could tell that Mom felt really bad about being the third wheel so, the next morning, while Mom was still asleep, I took my tricycle out of the garage and brought it up to her bedroom. And I made a little sign that said,
YOU
'
RE A THIRD WHEEL BUT I LOVE YOU
, and I put it on the seat of the tricycle. And when Mom woke up, she called me into the
bedroom and she was crying and she hugged me and told me that I was “very sweet” but that I should “take the bike out of the room immediately because it was tracking dirt.”

This is something Mom always does. She says something nice to me and then yells at me right after. Like she couldn't just say, “You're very sweet.” She had to say, “You're very sweet but take the bike out of my room.” And even though it should make my feelings hurt to be yelled at, I also like it because it's a pattern that Mom and I have, and it's ours. And I think it's kind of similar to the pirate voices. Every relationship has a kind of pattern, I guess, and maybe the pattern is more important than the stuff that makes up the pattern. Like the pirate voice is more important than the pirate lines.

And I guess even if someone is a terrible person like Mom, they can still be special if you know them well. Like Paula is really normal and doesn't yell or curse at me, but she's not My Mother. And sometimes knowing someone really well is more important than liking them. That's why I'm giving Matthew's House 219 out of 2000 stars.