Palo Alto Stories

He drove me over to the temple. We listened to Jimi Hendrix and didn’t say anything. Jimi was along the watchtower and the streets were glistening with wet. At the temple Mr. B pulled into the lot and there was a large unexpected bump because the entrance was slanted in a strange way, and we both jerked forward. He turned the car and parked us in a corner where it was dark.

“I really fucking like you, April.”

“I like you too,” I said. We sat there and there was moisture in his eyes, glistening from the dashboard lights.

“When you know life like I do,” he said, “you know that there isn’t much that is good. But I know that you’re good. Really good.” One of the lights in his eyes was red. I said thanks and he kissed me on the cheek and told me I should go. I got out and started walking across the parking lot. Mr. B’s car turned and drove out over the dip and into the road; red taillights into black.

The lot was dark but there was a pulsing glow coming out of the high windows of a building across the lot. Then I could hear music. I took out my pack of Reds and slipped one into my mouth and lit it with my little black lighter. The cigarette was good after kissing Mr. B. I walked toward the building with the glow. I wasn’t good. I was regular, or worse.

Someone called to me. I saw it was Teddy off a ways in the darkness. There was also a person crouched on the ground near him. That was Ivan. Ivan’s face was so pale. I asked what they were doing. I got closer. Ivan was holding a bullet on the ground and was tapping the back of it with a thin hammer. I stood a little away.

“Should you really be doing that?” I said.

“Shut the fuck up, they’re my stepdad’s,” said Ivan.

“I don’t care whose they are,” I said. “Isn’t it bad to have bullets at a synagogue?”

Teddy laughed. “Well, it’s not even fucking working.” He was wearing a black dress shirt and had gel in his hair. He looked nice. He always did. Ivan was always pale and scary. “Why are you so late?” Teddy said.

“I was babysitting,” I said. Ivan kept tapping.

“Oh, well, the party kind of sucks, old people and bad dancing. Want to go across the street to Gu

“Let me see Shauna first,” I said. I went over to the building with the music and the lights and stood in the doorway. Inside, people were dancing to ABBA’s “Dancing Queen,” fast and awkward. Some people were laughing. There was a long table along the side of one wall with lots of food and cakes. I had never been to a bat mitzvah. In Phoenix I didn’t know any Jews. I saw Shauna across the room of bodies. She was dancing and laughing with her mom and brother. She had a bunch of makeup on. So much I could hardly see the two scar lines.

I saw other girls from the team but I didn’t want to talk to any of them. They all knew Mr. B.

I walked back into the dark and told Teddy I wanted to go to Gu

Ivan picked up his bullets and put them in his pocket. We walked down a hill in the dark and I could hear the bullets clinking in Ivan’s pants.

When we passed the cemetery, Ivan said, “That suicide guy just got buried there.”

“How do you know?” I said.

“He did,or what’s left of him,” said Teddy. The kid had stepped in front of a train at the East Meadow crossing.

“My stepdad knew his dad,” said Ivan. “Said he was a prick, probably why the kid killed himself.”

We walked across Arastadero to Gu

We walked through campus. The buildings were made of cement, and in the dark the place was like a bunker. We made our way through the shadows to a grassy area. In the center was a huge oak tree that rose above the roofs of the classrooms. There was moonlight all around and it made the top of the tree silver-white. The ground was a little wet but we sat on the big roots, which were dry. We all leaned our backs against the trunk. Teddy had a little bottle of peach schnapps and he passed it around. I asked if they wanted some of the joint I’d been smoking and we passed that around.

“That’s pretty good shit,” said Ivan.

“What do you think about that suicide?” I said.

“I think the parents made him do it,” said Teddy.

“He wasAsian,” said Ivan. He was on the other side of Teddy and I couldn’t see him.

“What does that mean?” I said.

“That they worked his ass like crazy and pressured the shit out of him.”

“Do you think it hurt?” I said.

“For a second,” said Teddy. “But if it’s all going to be over anyway, then why does it matter? Pain only matters if it’s prolonged.” Ivan was sucking long on the joint, then he said, “If I was going to kill myself, I wouldn’t waste it. I would do a bunch of crazy shit first. Maybe kill some people I didn’t like and take ’em with me.”

We all thought about that. Then I said, “Wouldn’t it be better to do a bunch of crazy goodthings before you died instead of killing people?”

“Like what?” said Teddy.

“I don’t know. Give your life to save a bunch of kids or something.”

“But that’s what you’re supposed to do every day, not if you’re suicidal,” he said. “If you’re suicidal you’re probably only thinking of yourself.”

I drank the syrupy alcohol.

“I try to be good,” I said.

“Me too,” said Teddy.

“Fuck good people,” said Ivan, and we laughed.

We finished the joint and I gave them both cigarettes. The stars were dots between the branches. On the other side of Teddy, Ivan started carving in the tree with a knife. He carved SUICIDE RULZ. Teddy was next and wrote FUCK GUNN. They told me I had to write something.

“I feel bad, the tree is so old.”

“Fuck you,” said Ivan. “Do it.”

I drew a heart. It was hard to make it round because of the bark, so it was jagged on one side.

*   *   *

Eighth grade continued. For a month Mr. B acted like nothing happened. Our team was doing well and he just acted like a coach so I just acted like a player. But it was hard, because it was like I was just one of the other girls. He told his jokes to everyone but I didn’t laugh as much.

Then on Halloween Mr. B asked me to trick-or-treat with him and Michael. I was surprised but I said okay. I dressed as a cat in black tights and Tiff drew whiskers on my face with black lipstick. Mr. B was dressed in a 49ers jersey and football pants and a helmet. He said he was supposed to be Steve Young. On the back of the jersey it said YOUNG and there was a big 8. Michael was dressed as Link, the elf from his video game. He wore green and had a little sword and a plastic jack-o’-lantern for candy.

We walked around and Michael would go up to each door and get candy and we would wait for him on the sidewalk. We talked a little about the soccer team. The championships were coming up and we were tied for first place with Mountain View.

He told me a joke: “A horse falls into a mud puddle and can’t get out. So a chicken ties the horse to the bumper of his Mercedes and pulls him out. Later, the chickenfalls into the mud, but the horse just stands close and says, ‘Grab on to my thingy and pull yourself out.’ The moral is, if you’re hung like a horse you don’t need a Mercedes to pick up chicks.” I said it was fu

Later we went back to his place. He let Michael pick three candies to take to bed with him and made him leave the plastic jack-o’-lantern on the coffee table in the living room. While they were back in the bedroom I waited on the couch. I ate one of Michael’s Baby Ruths and then I took a roll of Smarties. They were really sour so I just had two and put the rest in my sock with the Baby Ruth wrapper.