Time of Leaders, Part 9 of 11

Around that time I told the computer about something that had been nagging at me. I’d been beginning to realize that all of these articles were less important than I originally thought, and I’d been adjusting downward over the past few weeks. The computer responded:

            “That’s been accounted for throughout the group. You’re the first to mention it, though. I’ve also noticed a bias on your part against headings which concern a study (singular). Please try to consider the entire article. Don’t be so quick to hit that ‘one’ button.”

            Then we proceeded. Midway through the Tenger ‘not what but how’ project, the headings and my ratings were these:

            Man Base-Jumps Off Toronto Building In Mickey Mouse Costume. Act Condemned As ‘Attention-Seeking Stunt’. (5)

            Blogger Misplaces Glasses. (1)

            Musician Levels City Block In Response To Criticism Of ‘Nanner-Nanner-Nanner’ Track In His Latest Release. (5)

            Illinois Bans Glitter; Celebrity Cries ‘Foul’. (4)

            Blogger Locates Glasses, Search Continues For His ‘Good Pen’. (1)

            Study Finds Those Capable Of Rolling Tongue Also Play ‘Flight Of The

Bumblebee’ Faster Than Average, Among Those Musically Inclined. (2)

            Farting Tree Found In Borneo. (2)

            Musician In Custody, Exhibits Remorse For ‘Nanner-Nanner-Nanner’ Track. (5)

            Passenger Jet Down In New Guinea. (3)

            Community Comes Apart. (4)

            Unexplained Light Display In Greenland. (2)

            Community Comes Together. (4)

            Passenger Jet Disappears From Radar Over North Pacific. (4)

            All Flights Accounted For. (4)

            Search Continues For Flight Number Of Mystery Jet. (4)

            Man Juggles Table Forks. (3)

            Espera Annexes Gonwanaland. (4)

            Study Finds Seventh Sense. (2)

            Protest Filed After Use Of Nuclear Weapons In Arctic War. (9)

            Study Finds Moderate Butter Consumption Clears Complexion. (2)

            Study Finds That Margarine Fights Ear Infections. (2)

            Study Finds Butter Alleviates Thrush. (1)

            Study Finds Margarine Strengthens Nails; Links Butter To Excessive Body Odor. (1)

            Protest Filed Over Sabotage Tactics In ‘Spread War’. (4)

            Esperan Liberation Group Razes Own Cities. (5)

            Persian Cat Eats Canned Peas. (2)

            Study Finds Large Percentage Of U.S. Adults Can’t Locate Hometown On Map. (7)

Wizard’s Wand Found At Site Of Human-Wave Attack In Breadbasket War.

“…Stop. Stop…”

Jade’s parents lived way over near the river and weren’t in any shape to deal with their son being found. I think the wand was in a conductor’s baton case that appeared in the house around that time. As far as I know, Jade still has it.

There was a ritual that Jade and I observed toward the end of each week. One or the other, frazzled from work, would remember to produce a pay stub from the bi-weekly period. Our pay days alternated, and the pay stubs showed us as much about the world as the news files Jade downloaded, namely, whether the nation and state were still taking their share of taxes. Throughout this time, neither of us saw much evidence that either government existed, other than Jade’s job as a contractor for the state. Seeing that a bit had been taken from our pay brought a sense of continuity. Then we would have dinner, get a bit cynical and deride the government.

            Jade understood from the look on my face when I came home one Friday. Word had already gotten around at my project that the state had folded. She didn’t panic and told me that the lack of deductions from my check could mean anything. And if the state no longer existed, the routing center could be open still, for a week to a year.

            It turned out to be the former. Jade came home from her last day full of energy. She told me that some of the crew was volunteering to stay, but the position that she had taken on was too complex and risky a venture to continue. Charlie and the others understood that the old prison would eventually become one big fortified squat.

            A week before, I’d brought Jade’s reading assignment home. 'The Velveteen Rabbit', a collection of Beverly Cleary, an adolescent epic set in the summertime, and Hemingway’s 'Old Man and the Sea'. Jade’s jaw dropped when she saw what was in the package. She spread the books out in a semi-circle on the kitchen table.

            “I know this,” she said, placing a hand on 'The Velveteen Rabbit'. “Who doesn’t. I’ve read it. Beverly Cleary I’ve read. I remember the pictures, too.”

            She picked the collection up, opened it and pointed to a picture like a kindergarten teacher.

“You can read it to me,” I told her. She smiled and began to leaf through it, admiring the drawings.

            “Read it to me so we’ll bond and I’ll learn important life-lessons.”

            “I will, Henry,” she answered. “You aren’t talkin’ through your fishheads.”

            She put a hand on the adolescent epic. “This is above my reading level, and I’ve read it. I don’t know when.”

            “So you don’t know which particular teacher to thank for that.”

            She smiled. “I don’t. They all did their part. And I thanked each one, way back when.” She knitted her brow and pondered the books. “You know… Deb showed me a list of books, and we talked about some. I told her that I’d never heard of this book, but now I recognize it from the cover. I was lying, and she was the only one in the room who knew it. The glorious bitch.”

            I picked up 'The Old Man and the Sea' and checked the edition. She asked me if I’d read it.

            I nodded, leaning over the kitchen table to her.

            “It’s good.”

            Jade took it from me. “I haven’t. But Deb believes that I can.” She pressed the book to her chest and grinned mock-wistfully. So we had gone from Jade’s working hypothesis of Deb wanting to take a gland of mine, leaving me with a pituit dysfunction, to the reality of her coveting Jade, brain and soul, leaving me pretty pleased about the whole thing. I told Jade that she wasn’t supposed to just hug the book, but read it.

            “I know. Kinda hard to hug. Didn’t he write anything bigger?”

Although she was laid off, Jade told me, money wouldn’t be a problem for quite a while. That was one advantage to the situation we were in; the state of the economy, or lack of it. There was little being sold, and Jade had plenty of money saved for the small rent.

            We sat elbow-propped at the kitchen table, not too concerned with dinner.

            “So the state’s gone,” she said, “but I was ready for it. I needed a vacation. Wonder what we’re citizens of? If anything.” She shuddered, then popped up by default to start steaming noodles. “Bob can’t like this.”

            I looked around the kitchen for potential candidates of Bob’s wrath. A chair, the table, the pot in Jade’s hand. She shook the pot and forced her point home.

            “The state’s gone! Bob’s very patriotic!”

           That Wednesday it was time for another round of White Elephant Bingo. Our contributions were items that Jade told me would be highly prized: old glass Nehi and Mountain Dew bottles that we found in the funnel. Jade had shown them to Charlie and he said that they were from the 1960’s, at the latest, so that would make them at least 80 years old. But I’d been concerned that no matter how well we cleaned them, they’d still have bacteria. Tuesday night Jade and I argued, a bit, over my worry about having nothing in the house to clean them properly, and whether people would even use them to store food or drink. Jade gave me the classic- ‘Who is this man I’m living with’ look, which I have to admit I recognized from past relationships. The next morning, during one of her ancient music listening sessions, she was inspired and came up with the proper solution. She made small labels for the bottles that said ‘Not For Use With Food’. That sent me off to work with a chuckle.

            That night we went off to the school feeling a bit fragile, like patients. Charlie had a quart of his home-brew and four small glasses. The beer was nearly clear. Jade took a sip.

            “You’ve done it.”

            Charlie laughed. Brenda nodded.

            “You’ve finally gone and done it.”

            I didn’t know what they were talking about. The beer was good and strong. It turned out to be the end-product of what Charlie had been talking about for months. He’d added government rice to the brew. He called it: “The Taste of the Future.”

            The scene we caused disconcerted some in the bingo crowd, but they knew the situation we were in, that we were all in, and were willing to give us a break.

Throughout the next few weeks, Jade went in fits and starts, which hurt to watch, but didn’t worry me much, considering the rigors we’d endured so far. We prioritized problems, and they were big ones. When I think about that winter, I can’t see how we survived. The sun would heat the house, somewhat. At times the outside temperature was as low as minus six. At least I had a warm place to go six hours a day. Jade was in that cold all day, but she was also there to tend to the small fire-pit we had out back, rotating the rocks that we would use to heat certain rooms in the house. And we had each other. At times, primarily, to share warmth.

            Jade even had a job interview during all that. A man came to our door and she went to the Imno plant the next day, but she didn’t get the job. It was still heartening for the both of us. It was a small milestone on a very long road. She initiated a routine, getting up early most days and exercising lightly, reading, then exercising again. I would come home to find her nested in the couch with my dictionary which she’d requisitioned. By December she was well into the Beverly Cleary collection which she was in awe of. She was a bit embarrassed about the reading level, though. I wanted to help her more; to perhaps model, yes, model behavior showing how it doesn’t have to be an embarrassment for an adult to enjoy what is a great children’s book. I read The Velveteen Rabbit also, but in the afterglow she gently told me that she knew that many adults do. She liked reading, but the difference was that I read for enjoyment and research. She wasn’t to that point yet. She read because she had to. Because, basically, Deb suggested it. Once I was about to congratulate her on her progress, but she stopped me, telling me that reading was becoming like breathing for her. She knew that was good. I was proud of her and knew that once she filled that odd gap in her development she might be well out of my league. Then her occasional ‘What man am I living with’ looks might simply be rhetorical.