Donorboy (7 page)

I talked to this guy Chris for a while. He is a junior and he is some kind of skateboarder or something, which I always see those guys trying to go down the railing by the library and laugh because they always fall on their butts, but he was cute and nice and he gave me some stickers that he and his friends made. Once he gave them to me I recognized them from being on every pole and I asked him what the design was, kind of expecting him to say something stupid about freedom or his skateboard or something, but he just said he thought it looked cool.

I'm not sure if I wanted to kiss him, but maybe I would have if I hadn't passed out. So I maybe want to kiss him but not really spend all my time with him because that would mean less time with Jen who hasn't exactly invited me to a party and told me she cares about me but who I still want to hang out with all the time. I don't know where that puts me on the lesb-o-meter. But whatever, I don't have to decide, I can kiss whoever I want and that is pretty cool I guess.

I want to get drunk again, but maybe not that drunk because I hated the way I felt today, but I felt better last night than I have since … But now I am grounded or whatever, but I don't really know how he can stop me from sneaking out my window. And he unhooked my internet, all, you can't send IM's anymore and I was like who cares.

I am going to take a nap which I haven't done since I was like four years old but I am tired from everything.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Failing

Dave—Jesus, but we had a horrible horrible weekend. I actually did try to call you, but apparently your cell phone was out of range. I hope you had a good time at the wedding. In any case, my subject line here refers to my progress as a father.

Rosalind disappeared into her room as usual on Saturday night, and I really thought nothing of it. At about nine-thirty, I was flicking around the channels, and I came across some little report about Eva, just a little video obit, so I TiVoed it and called to Rosalind. I wasn't sure if she'd want to watch it, but I thought I should give her the option.

She didn't answer me, so I knocked on her door, and she still didn't answer. Eventually I picked the lock and went into her room. I have no idea if that is ethical or not. In any case, she wasn't there.

I called Karen, who took the opportunity to verbally abuse me, and some friend of Rosalind's, whose mother, after asking if I was That Shaun Cassidy and confessing a teen crush on That Shaun Cassidy told me she thought her daughter was at my house. Wonderful.

I panicked and called the police, which made me feel like I was doing something. The cop came out and filed a report and told me she had probably sneaked out, “to meet up with some boyfriend or other, don't panic, my daughter did it too, which is why I'm forty-eight with a ten-year-old grandson, ha ha, but we got through it.” I believe he was actually trying to reassure me.

Finally she showed up at eight in the morning obviously hung over. I yelled at her, which did not seem terribly effective, so I called Karen and got her to yell at her, and she at least got an apology out of her, which seemed like a victory, though of course I was angry and jealous that she hadn't apologized to me.

I already drove a couple of screws into the window frame so it won't open wide enough to allow her to escape. Thank you again, by the way, for the cordless drill, which helped immensely. I did this at four a.m. in a fit of pique when I was convinced she had sneaked out. At five I was convinced she was dead, and I cried.

I don't know what I should be doing differently. I actually thought things were starting to turn around. Since our big breakthrough enchilada conversation we have what I suppose is almost normal parent-teen interaction, which is to say we talk briefly about the logistics of daily life. “Does this smell funny to you?” and “We're out of Frosted Mini-Wheats.” We've talked briefly about our shared hatred of her school, and the other day she actually sat with me to watch TV. There was some commercial with a mother and son holding hands in the sunset or some such nonsense, and my eyes began to fill up as they always do at mother-son commercials, and she saw me and said, “So you weren't kidding. It really never stops.” And I said, “Well, I can usually restrain it to the trickle down the cheek these days, which is actually a significant improvement.” And she said, “Well, hey, life may suck now, but it looks like I've got a lot to look forward to.” And we both laughed. We laughed together!

I know, I know, cue the strings and the shot of us gamboling into the sunset, but it was really a wonderful moment.

And now I have to be the prison warden. At 3:43 I was actually considering driving to the twenty-four-hour Home Despot to see if they had any razor wire. I settled on the screws instead.

I am a horrible father and I don't know what to do.

Thank you for your attention.

—Sean

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Failing

Oh my God, she snuck out and got drunk? Anybody would think you've got a teenager on your hands!

Seriously, man, relax a little bit. I see a lot of teens and the one thing I have learned is that they all drink and have sex, except the ones who smoke weed and have sex. The first few times I was surprised when I would overhear something or find a note or whatever, but now I am always surprised if I find out they don't do that stuff.

You're trying, which, believe me, is a lot more than a lot of people do. I'm sorry it's so hard, though. She will be fine. She is going to do some stupid shit, because she's a teenager and that's what teenagers are supposed to do. Of course, when Max hits his teen years I am fitting him with one of those tracking ankle bracelets and putting saltpeter in his food. And yes, professor, I know that doesn't really work.

I don't know what to tell you except that the fact that she went to a party and got drunk just shows that she's fourteen and not that you are a terrible dad. I mean, you may actually be a terrible dad, but this doesn't count as evidence.

Congrats on the laughter, dude. That is actually huge, so I won't bust your balls about how you are a sentimental ninny.

—D

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Re: Failing

Sentimental ninny, eh? Let us not forget the conversation we had after Max's birth. Just in case you might have forgotten it, I have the transcript here somewhere … Let's see … “I can't see from crying, I'm just so fucking happy, it was so fucking incredible …” “Most important thing I will ever be a part of …”

In any case, Rosalind appears to be contrite for her drunken escapades, or something, because I have seen much more of her in the last few days and she has actually been overall quite pleasant. Please don't tell me that means she is plotting something, because I have already thought of it and I am choosing to take the more pleasant, less cynical interpretation.

I expected her to be angry about the screws in her window, but instead she seems to find it funny and has taken to calling me “Warden,” but in a way that feels kind of affectionate.

Last night we had what I believe to be the first real conversation of our lives together. She said, “So, Warden, where are the ladies? I mean, you know, there don't seem to be any ladies coming around. Did I scare 'em off?” It appeared to me that she hoped that was the case.

And so I explained how Marcia left, though I downplayed that the fact that I had fathered a daughter by another woman appeared to have been the catalyst, or rather the issue that caused her to reject my proposal. I further explained how my luck since then has been abysmal for reasons I don't fully understand, even though you keep telling me that I keep falling for Marcia over and over in different guises.

Before I even knew what was happening, I very cheesily asked if she had someone special at school. She looked at me as though that was the corniest, most embarrassing, most awful thing I could have possibly asked her, and this shot me back to my dad asking me something similar when I was her age, and how I screamed at him and slammed my door. Fortunately, she did neither, but said, “Well, you know, I have kinda had other things on my mind lately.”

I am not buying that for ten seconds, but I was impressed with the graceful escape. She is an impressive kid. We have actually had several conversations since then that feel a great deal like real conversations.

I would very much like to get to know her better, and I am therefore currently in search of some sort of bonding activity. Since cleaning vomit out of the bathtub was about the extent of my adolescent bonding with Dad, I am hoping you might have some suggestions. Did you and your father stick up liquor stores together, or share steroid needles or something?

I am feeling good enough to bust your balls, so I suppose that means that things are looking up.

—S

New text message!

From: Rosalind cell

12:34 pm

IN TRBL. NT MY FAULT. PRNCPL CLLING U. HES A TOOL. WILL MAKE U BNGO CARD.

CHARLESBOROUGH HIGH SCHOOL 10/27/04.

INFORMAL MEETING.

Participants: Principal Steve Vanian, Sean Cassidy, Rosalind Butterfield.

SEAN CASSIDY:
Do you mind if I record this? It's just one of those lawyer things.

STEVE VANIAN:
Well, as we discussed on the phone, this is not a formal hearing, that will take place in three days, uh, this is more—

SC:
Yes, I understand. But I'd like to record this all the same, if that's okay with you.

SV:
I suppose that's fine. Is that a minidisc?

SC:
Yeah, I—

SV:
Yes, I thought so. That's what Scott Simon from NPR used when he was here last year. Maybe you heard the series?

SC:
No, I—

SV:
“What's Right with Public Education”?

SC:
No, I—

SV:
It aired on
Weekend Edition
on four successive Saturdays.

SC:
Yes, well, if we could—

SV:
Scott was here for the better part of a week, and he seemed to be changing the minidisc all the time. Still, the sound was fantastic on the radio—sounded just like I was in the room. Which of course I was, ha ha! Strange experience, hearing yourself on the radio.

SC:
I'm sure. Now you'll forgive me, but I was a bit flustered when you called, and if you can just walk me through the procedure here one more time.

SV:
Of course. As you know, we have a mission here at Charlesborough High School to educate the leaders of the twenty-first century, and integral to that mission is the maintenance of a safe environment here in the school building.

SC:
Yes, Dr. Vanian, we are aware of the seriousness of what Rosalind allegedly—

SV:
I'm sorry, Mr. Cassidy, but there simply is no allegedly about it. There is a boy in the nurse's office with bandages all over his broken nose, and had our crack custodial staff not cleaned the blood up already, you could see the rather gory scene that awaited me when I arrived in Room 411.

SC:
Yes, I am sure it was a very gruesome scene, and when we return for the hearing in, what?

SV:
In three days.

SC:
We'll get to the bottom of exactly what transpired. Now, did I understand you correctly on the phone that this will be an expulsion hearing?

SV:
That is correct.

SC:
Now, is this standard procedure in a fight situation? Because your handbook states that a three-day suspension is the standard punishment for a fight, and so I am just curious as to what makes this fall outside of that procedure.

SV:
Well, if there is a weapon involved, that falls into a more serious category, assault with a dangerous weapon, and as we are dealing with a particularly egregious unprovoked act of violence, it's my feeling that we need to take this course of action in order to protect the safety of the learning environment here at Charlesborough High.

SC:
I'm sorry, but you mentioned a weapon?

SV:
Yes, in this case, a shod foot.

SC:
A shod foot.

SV:
Correct. As the second blow was administered with a shod foot, that clearly falls under the definition of a dangerous weapon in Massachusetts. And I need to tell you that any action the school takes is distinct from any legal action that the Commonwealth may choose to pursue. Pursuant to our procedures, I have informed the Charlesborough Police of the incident, and they will be coming to take statements. Should the Hoffmans choose to press charges, there may be serious legal consequences.

SC:
(
Whispering
) You actually had “a shod foot.”

ROSALIND BUTTERFIELD:
(
Unintelligible.
)

SV:
I'm sorry?

SC:
I'm sorry, Dr. Vanian. I just needed to go over something with Rosalind.

SV:
As I'm not certain you fully grasped the seriousness of what I said, I will repeat.

SC:
If the Hoffmans press charges, Rosalind is headed for DYS lockup. I got it.

SV:
Mr. Cassidy, I really don't think your nonchalance here is at all appropriate. Because as the educational leader of this institution, I am forced to take seriously any threat to the safe learning environment here, and I need to tell you that this is a situation we are taking most seriously.

SC:
Yes, Dr. Vanian, we are taking it seriously too. But I know my daughter, albeit less well than I would like, but I suppose any number of parents might say the same, um, but anyway, I am confident that once I get Rosalind's side of this story, I'll say, “Bingo! Now I understand!”