Friday, July 16, 2004
PETER S
I went to school with Peter for a few years. He was passive and quiet. I don't remember him saying much of anything. Although he didn't have the energy to be bad himself, he always laughed a mirthless, soulless, laugh whenever anyone did something really terrible.
The teacher would walk down the aisle. Jackie S. would turn around in his desk and give her the finger behind her back. Peter would laugh: "Huh, hu, hu."
Thus casting his lot with the misbehavers, Peter got a reputation as a bad guy without ever doing anything.
He had straight black hair and very white skin. He slumped around in such a way that he appeared to have no bones between his shoulders and his feet. I actually began to believe this, that he had no bones, that he was stuffed, maybe with pudding.
Finally I could take it no more. We were milling around the classroon for some reason. Peter was staring out of the window. I walked up behind him and punched him in the back as hard as I could. My fist sunk right in, no resistance at all.
When I hit him, Peter said: "Upmh." He half turned to me and smiled. Then he went back to looking out the window. After that year Peter went to a different school. I never saw him again.
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Addendum
Some years ago I was walking into a restaurant with FW when I heard someone calling me from the bar. It was John C, a childhood friend. I hadn't seen him in almost twenty years.
"How have you been?" I asked. (I'd heard that he'd been in jail; I hoped he wouldn't fill me in on the details.)
"Great," John said. "I've been doing a lot of gambling. I fly out to Vegas almost every month."
"Great," I said.
"I usually go out there with Peter S. Do you know him?" John asked.
"Not really," I said.
"Well, Peter got electrocuted a few years ago," John said.
"You go to Vegas with a dead man?" I asked.
"He got electrocuted, but he didn't die," John said. "We work together. I was almost right there when it happened."
"I though you had to die," I said.
"You don't," John said.
"I never knew that," I said.
"Anyway, Peter's got it made now. He got a ton of money from the lawsuit and he doesn't have to work anymore, because he's all fucked up from being electrocuted. He springs for the suite and sometimes even the airfare. He doesn't care."
"That's great," I said.
"You should come out with us sometime," John said.
"Maybe I will," I said. "I'm going to go eat now, but keep in touch."
The teacher would walk down the aisle. Jackie S. would turn around in his desk and give her the finger behind her back. Peter would laugh: "Huh, hu, hu."
Thus casting his lot with the misbehavers, Peter got a reputation as a bad guy without ever doing anything.
He had straight black hair and very white skin. He slumped around in such a way that he appeared to have no bones between his shoulders and his feet. I actually began to believe this, that he had no bones, that he was stuffed, maybe with pudding.
Finally I could take it no more. We were milling around the classroon for some reason. Peter was staring out of the window. I walked up behind him and punched him in the back as hard as I could. My fist sunk right in, no resistance at all.
When I hit him, Peter said: "Upmh." He half turned to me and smiled. Then he went back to looking out the window. After that year Peter went to a different school. I never saw him again.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Addendum
Some years ago I was walking into a restaurant with FW when I heard someone calling me from the bar. It was John C, a childhood friend. I hadn't seen him in almost twenty years.
"How have you been?" I asked. (I'd heard that he'd been in jail; I hoped he wouldn't fill me in on the details.)
"Great," John said. "I've been doing a lot of gambling. I fly out to Vegas almost every month."
"Great," I said.
"I usually go out there with Peter S. Do you know him?" John asked.
"Not really," I said.
"Well, Peter got electrocuted a few years ago," John said.
"You go to Vegas with a dead man?" I asked.
"He got electrocuted, but he didn't die," John said. "We work together. I was almost right there when it happened."
"I though you had to die," I said.
"You don't," John said.
"I never knew that," I said.
"Anyway, Peter's got it made now. He got a ton of money from the lawsuit and he doesn't have to work anymore, because he's all fucked up from being electrocuted. He springs for the suite and sometimes even the airfare. He doesn't care."
"That's great," I said.
"You should come out with us sometime," John said.
"Maybe I will," I said. "I'm going to go eat now, but keep in touch."
