Monday, September 8, 2008

The Ethan Stories

"STORIES ABOUT ETHAN AND HIS FRIENDS"

(c) (DG, 1999)


1

While Ethan ate his breakfast, he read over the words that were going to be on his spelling test at school later the same day. Next to him sat his mother, Patricia, who was going over some legal papers for her work as a lawyer.

In Ethan’s bowl were cereal with dried diced apricots, pineapples, and raisins, and a little milk. On his mother’s plate was grapefruit; next to the plate was a cup of tea. These were things they often liked, but this was one of those mornings when they ate less than usual.

Ethan’s father, Larry, was at the kitchen sink, running water, and soaping up the dishes from his own breakfast and a few things from the night before. He turned and looked at the two of them and said, “You’d feel and think much better and work better if you ate better.”

Ethan and his mother looked up and smiled at him but kept studying.

#

Ethan’s school was ten blocks from his home and his parents trusted him to walk to and from school alone. He knew to watch for changing streetlights, fast cars, and strange people. To him, people were strange when they seemed angry or talked about things he didn’t understand and places he didn’t know.

He said goodbye to his parents—his mother, who remained seated at the kitchen table, and his father, who walked him to the front door—and Ethan put his book bag over his shoulder and walked down the street.

#

As Ethan walked down the street, he said hello to Nalini and her brother Rahki, neighbors he sometimes played with after school but who did not go to his school. They stood outside their house on the sidewalk, waiting for their mother Amita to drive them to school.

Nalini and Rahki’s grandparents and parents were from India and their mother sometimes cooked Indian food. Ethan liked the pretty colors of the food and its spicy taste. He hoped that he’d be invited over again to have some but what he said was, “Do you all want to go to the park after school?”

Nalini and Rahki both smiled and quietly said, “Sure.”

Ethan’s mother always said they were good kids—polite, smart, friendly—and was glad when he played with them.

“See you later,” said Ethan, on his way.

#

Ethan looked around as he walked, seeing houses, cars, trees, and sky. The trees were very tall. The sky was clear and bright.

Ethan took a deep breath.

Looking at the sky he was amazed at how big and blue it was. Whenever he looked at it a long time, he would dream without sleeping, and sometimes he would feel as if he’d had a large bowl of ice cream—full and happy.

#

Looking into the sky, he almost bumped into a lady walking down the street. He said, “I’m sorry” and began to look in front of himself as he walked. He saw Xavier and ran toward him.

#

“Hi,” each said.

Ethan often walked to school with Xavier, when Xavier was alone. When Xavier was with his own friends—what Ethan’s mother called a “rowdy” bunch—then Ethan walked alone.

Ethan had been willing to make Xavier’s friends his friends but they spent most of their time talking bad about each other—saying this one was ugly, that one was dumb—and Ethan did not think any of that was true or funny and so left them alone.

Together, he and Xavier talked about their classes—what their teachers said, the games they played during recess, their families—and sometimes after school they rode their bikes together or played basketball.

#

“Do you want to stop by Juan’s house to see if he’s left yet?” asked Xavier. He looked as if he thought Ethan would say no.

“Okay,” said Ethan, slowly. “If he’s the only one we stop for. I don’t want to be late for school and I don’t feel like walking with a crowd down the street.”

“Alright,” said Xavier, with glee.

#

They walked until they got to Juan’s house, a small two-story green house where Juan lived with his large family.

They rang the bell.
Juan’s mother, Adela, came to the door.
“Buenos dias,” she said..
“Buenos dias to you too,” said Ethan.
“Buenos dias,” said Xavier. “Has Juan left yet?”
“He’s inside. Do you want me to get him?” his mother asked.
“Yes, please,” said Xavier.
Xavier’s manners always came out when he was with adults or with Ethan—but when he was with his other friends he forgot them.
Juan’s mother went inside.
Juan came to the door and opened it.
They all heard Juan’s mother say, “Go straight to school. Don’t get in any trouble.”

#

“What kind of trouble does she think we could get in?” asked Xavier.
The boys looked at each other. Xavier looked as if he wanted to laugh.
“What kind of trouble does she think we can get in?” asked Xavier.
Ethan looked at him and said, “I don’t know. Fighting. Throwing a rock through someone’s window. Throwing someone’s sneakers up onto the telephone lines. Stealing something from a store.”
Xavier looked as if that was an answer he did not want to hear.

#

“We’re supposed to have spaghetti in the lunch room today,” said Xavier. “I can’t wait.”
“We had that last week,” said Juan.
“But it’s good,” said Xavier
Xavier looked at Ethan.
“What’s wrong?” asked Xavier.
“I have a spelling test today,” Ethan said.
“You’ll do okay,” said Xavier.
“I hope so,” said Ethan. “Do you guys mind if I practice while we walk?”
Xavier and Juan looked at each other.
Do you have to?” asked Xavier.
“Just a couple,” said Ethan.
“Knowledge,” said Ethan. “K-n-o-w-l-e-d-g-e.” He went on. “Dialog. D-i-a-l-o-g.” The boys continued walking. Ethan said, “Friendship. F-r-i-e-n-d-s-h-i-p. People sometimes put the ‘e’ before ‘i’ in that one. Social responsibility. S-o-c-i-a-l R-e-s-p-o-n-s-i-b-i l-i-t-y.”

#

“Those are some big words,” said Juan.
“We have to spell them and we have to know how to use them in a sentence,” said Ethan.
The boys were quiet.

#

The schoolyard was full with kids walking, talking, playing, and even studying.

#

In his first class of the day, Ethan’s teacher had written on the board:


One (English) = 1 1+1=2
Yek (Kurdish) = 1 2 +2=4
Ein (German) = 1 2 x 2=4
Moja (Swahili) = l 4 x 4 = 16
Uno (Spanish) = 1 4 x 4 x 4 = 64
4 x 4 x 4 x 4 =

#

Ethan did not like math, but his father had helped him to understand it, so he was no longer afraid of it. When the teacher asked what was 4 x 4 x 4 x 4, Ethan thought about it, and worked out the answer on his tablet, then raised his hand.

#

Mrs. Gardner, the teacher, looked at Ethan and called the girl sitting next to him, and she, Miriam, gave the correct answer. “256,” she said.

“That’s correct, Miriam,” said the teacher.

#

In his language class, Ethan was nervous. His hands shook a little, and there was a little sweat on his forehead. He thought he might have to ask permission to go to the bathroom. He looked out the window—at the trees and sky. Seeing the large, bright blue sky calmed him. Then he remembered how much he had studied and felt even better.

#

The teacher, Mr. Joseph, walked by the desk of each student and placed a single sheet of paper face down. The students could not see the test questions on the sheet.

After the teacher had given all of them the exam, he walked to the front of the class and said, “Ten questions have three different answers—or spellings—to choose from and you have to pick the correct spelling. This part of the test is the multiple-choice part. Five of the questions involve making sentences out of words that are correctly spelled. For five of the questions you have to write out what the words mean. You have fifty minutes to complete the test. Raise you hand when you’re done and I’ll pick up your test. At the end of fifty minutes, everyone has to hand in the test if he or she hasn’t already. Any questions? No, well, begin.”

#

Knowledge is facts about where something comes from, what’s it made of, and what it does. It’s a way of putting things together. Knowledge can help you do the right thing well, wrote Ethan.

Exercise is running, jumping, playing, and moving that make your muscles strong. It’s tiring at first but the more you do, the easier it is, the more you like it, and the stronger you get, he wrote.


#

Ethan raised his hand after answering and re-reading his test. He had a smile on his face.





2


On his way home from school, Ethan walked alone. He looked at the flowers in the front yards along his path, and at the houses before which they stood, liking columns, windows with shutters, third floors, and side porches. Ethan also watched the girls who walked a couple of feet in front of him. He wondered what kind of snack his father, Larry, had left for him and what his father would cook when he got home from work. Ethan’s mother, Patricia, had cooked last night and tonight was his father’s turn.

As Ethan neared Juan’s house, he saw a fire truck, a police car, and an ambulance out front.

#

Ethan saw firemen standing near and sitting in their truck.
There was a group of people near the gate to Juan’s house—quiet, whispering, staring.

#

Ethan saw Xavier and walked toward him.
“What’s going on?” asked Ethan.
“I was inside,” said Xavier.
“What happened?”
“Juan’s grandmother—she was sitting in her chair as if she was sleeping and everyone was standing around her and talking loud and they even touched her but she didn’t open her eyes,” said Xavier. “She’s dead,” he said.

#

“Oh, no,” said Ethan.
He didn’t know what to say.
A grandmother was a nice person—someone who made and gave you things, someone who loved you and let you do stuff your mother and father had to think hard about, like whether you should have another helping of apple pie or could go out to play before you finished your homework, someone who smiled and hugged you as soon as she saw you. At least that’s what he thought a grandmother was like. His parents’ parents had died before he was born.

#

Ethan thought that dying meant you couldn’t move any more. You couldn’t see and think and talk and they put you in the ground.

#

“Where’s Juan?” asked Ethan.
“He’s inside. He came out. He might come out again,” said Xavier.

#

Ethan looked around and saw Rahki hurrying from the street where they lived to meet them.
#

“I saw the fire truck and heard the sirens,” said Rahki. “What happened?”
“Juan’s grandmother died,” said Xavier.
Rahki looked at both of them.
“That’s so sad,” Rahki said, and looked as if he might cry.

#

“What’s wrong with you?” asked Xavier.
“I was thinking about my grandmother. She’s old. I was thinking how unhappy I’d be if she died,” said Rahki.
“Everybody dies,” said Xavier.
“There’s nothing wrong with being sad about it,” said Ethan.
“I’m going home,” said Rahki. “I want to find out if my grandmother’s okay.”
Xavier laughed.
“Do you want me to go with you?” asked Ethan.
“No,” said Rahki. “Let’s get together tomorrow.”

#

“Nothing happened to his grandmother,” said Xavier.
“But it could have,” said Ethan. “My grandparents died before I even knew them.”
“Mine are still alive,” said Xavier, proudly.

#

A policeman walked out of the house.

#

A man with a black doctor’s bag walked out of the house, followed by a second policeman. They spoke to one of the firemen.”

#

The firemen got in the fire truck and left.

#

“There’s nothing we can do,” said the policeman. “A hearse will be here soon to get her body,” he said.

#

“Sounds scary,” said Xavier. “A hearse.”

#

That night, Ethan asked his parents about his grandparents, and what his mother and father felt when their parents died.
“A lot of grief,” his mother said.
“My father had been sick a long time,” said his father, “so I was glad he was no longer suffering.”
Ethan’s mother said, “Our time on earth is not forever. That’s why it’s important to live good lives—to have people we love, to treat them well, to have work we like, and to try to enjoy each day.”

#

“We have our memories,” said his father. “We all have our memories—and my parents are alive in my memories. And one day, a long, long time from now, we’ll only be alive in your memories. So we have to make some good memories. Memories to make you happy and keep you smart and strong. We love you Ethan.”

#

Ethan’s family went to Juan’s grandmother’s funeral a couple of days later. Everyone was quiet and sad except for the minister who talked about what a nice person she, Rosita, was. She liked people, animals, and plants, he said. Rosita loved to talk to everyone and work in the family garden. She lived a long life but it still seemed as if she left her family too soon; when good people die it always seems too soon.

#

Ethan could see that Juan was crying and did not care who saw it. He knew that Juan’s crying—even about his grandmother’s death—was something some kids would tease him about. Some people are so silly and unkind, thought Ethan.

#

When Ethan’s parents went over to talk to Juan’s parents, Adela and Manuel, Ethan told Juan, “You can come over to our house if you want.”
“Maybe I will,” said Juan. “But I should probably stay with my family.”
“Well, if you feel like coming over, I hope you do,” said Ethan.

#

“Death is not an end. It’s a new beginning. Juan’s grandmother is with her god now,” his mother said in the car.
His father said, “It doesn’t seem like a beginning to me. It seems like the only end there is. Death is the place where human knowledge stops. We don’t know what’s on the other side of it.”

#

“What do you think Ethan?” his mother asked.
“Can Juan see his grandmother again? Can she cook for him and talk to him?” asked Ethan.
“No,” his mother said.
“It sounds like the end to me,” said Ethan. He added, “Except, you know, we’ll remember her.”






3

Ethan and his parents lived as they always did. His mother Patricia worked long hours at her law office trying to help women with complaints about the places where they worked. Some complained about low pay, working on weekends, and being treated badly by their bosses. Ethan’s father Larry was working as a truck driver for a local furniture store. This was not his regular kind of work. He was an architect but the firm he had been working for closed, and he was not able yet to find a new job drawing and making buildings.

Both his parents came home tired, but they helped him with his homework and cooked something he liked—such as baked chicken or fried fish—and sometimes his father took him to the baseball park and pitched balls to him. His mother sometimes took him jogging with her. And at night before he showered and went to bed they would sit in their living room. Sometimes they would watch old movies starring Greta Garbo and Charlie Chaplin, and sometimes his parents would get up and dance to blues, jazz, and soul music. Sometimes they would talk about what each wanted to do the next day.

#

Ethan did not see Juan at school for over a week, and when he did see him, he thought Juan looked just as unhappy as at the funeral.

#

“Do you want to come over?” asked Ethan.
“I would like to, but I don’t think my mother would let me,” said Juan.
“Why not?”
“She’d be too worried if I was out the house. My older brother Miguel has been staying out late since my grandmother died. He really loved her, and he doesn’t like being in the house now, so he walks the streets and sleeps at his friends’ houses,” said Juan. “He’s gotten wild and he’s making my mother crazy. She wants to know where I am every second.”
#

I wonder how long this will last,” asked Juan.
“Maybe until you all stop missing her,” said Ethan.
“We’ll never stop missing her,” said Juan.

#

When Ethan saw Juan days later, Juan told him that his family went to a doctor with his brother. The doctor was supposed to help fix his brother’s mind. But how, Juan wanted know, can you fix something you can’t even see?

#

Juan called Ethan at home one night.
“Ethan, my mom wants to know if I can spend the weekend at your house?”
“That’s a switch,” said Ethan.
“She thinks it would be good for me—and she and my father, uncle, and grandfather can talk to my brother.”
“I think it’ll be alright for you to come over, but let me ask my parents,” said Ethan. He put the phone down and walked to the living room, where his mother sat reading a story by Toni Morrison while his father sat reading a history book by W.E.B. DuBois.
His parents said, Yes, Juan could come over.

#

Ethan’s father, Larry, took the boys to the natural history museum the following Saturday. They saw dinosaurs, bears, and antelopes sitting amid painted wall landscapes. They walked to Central Park after leaving the museum, and bought ice cream there and sat on the grass while they ate their dessert.
“What else do you boys want to do?” asked Ethan’s father.
“See a movie,” they said.
Ethan’s father took them to see an adventure movie with space travel in which there were strange creatures.
Sleepy they were when they went home, and they ate a dinner of green salad, baked fish, bread, and fresh fruit that Ethan’s mother prepared.
The boys showered and went to bed.

#

“What do you think is going on at your house now?” asked Ethan the next morning.
“They’re probably all trying to talk to my brother at the same time,” said Juan, laughing. “And he’s probably not saying anything, wanting them to think he’s listening—but he’s not listening. He’s just thinking about when he can get out of the house again and do whatever he wants to do.”

#

Ethan’s mother Patricia took the boys to an art museum on Sunday, where they saw paintings of important people who lived long ago in Europe, hazy pictures of parks and flowers, African clay sculptures of heads, Navajo pottery, and Greek statues.
They had lunch at a fancy restaurant, and after lunch went to the zoo, where they saw deer, pandas, tigers, lions, and zebras.

#

“They don’t have much energy,” said Ethan.
“I don’t think they like being locked up,” said Juan.
“They’re well-fed and taken care of, but I think you’re right,” said Patricia.
As they drove back home, they talked about freedom.
“Freedom is being able to do what you want,” said Juan.
“That’s what freedom means for an animal, but for a human being it is different. You have to know yourself well enough to know what you want and whether what you want will help you, or hurt you or someone else,” said Patricia.
“How can what I want hurt me?” asked Juan.
“Well, if you eat nothing but snacks—such as chips and sweets—you’ll get sick,” said Patricia.
“Oh,” said Juan.
“If you don’t study and do well in school, it will probably be hard to graduate and get a decent job,” said Patricia. “These days the more schooling you have, the more chances you have to get the good things you want.”

#

Juan said he had a good time with Ethan and his family before he went back to his own house.

#

Juan’s brother Miguel came home late one night crying about how much he missed his grandmother.
“Do you think she’d want to see you acting the way you’ve been acting?” asked his mother.
“No,” he said.
“Well?” she asked.
“Sometimes I don’t think. Sometimes I just feel, and I have to keep moving, keep doing things, so I’ll stop feeling,” he said.
“Isn’t it better to just feel bad and get it over with?” his mother asked. “We can cry but we never cry forever. It’s good to know that you loved her so much but sometimes we lose what we love and we have to accept it all—the love and the loss. We have to keep living for as long as we can. We have each other. We can bring each other joy as long as we don’t do things that hurt and scare each other. We’ve had good times in our family before and we’ll have good times again. Comprende?”
“Yes,” he said.

#

Juan’s parents Adela and Manuel invited Ethan and his parents over for Sunday dinner.
Juan’s mother served a cool reddish brown soup with tomatoes and peppers, that she called gazpacho, and then she served burritos, rice, beans, and chicken stuffed inside a thin, wide, flat bread. They put a spoon of thick avocado sauce, guacamole, and sour cream on the burritos.
After everyone ate, Adela pointed to family pictures on the living room wall and took out photograph albums. She showed pictures of Juan’s grandmother, her mother, when she, Rosita, was a baby, a young girl in Mexico, a teenager going to a dance in a lacy white blouse and silky red skirt, a new bride in white with a colorful beaded belt, a mother with children in New York, middle age and standing at the front door of their house, and older sitting in her favorite chair. Juan’s mother told stories about her mother that made everyone laugh and laugh.

#

They all went in the backyard. The adults talked, the children played, and then Juan’s mother served pistachio ice cream and sangria, a drink with mixed fruits.
“That was fun,” said Ethan to his parents as they walked home.

#





4

Juan’s brother Miguel had friends who did not want him to go back to being a good boy. They tried to get him to stay out late, to talk rudely to girls, and to take candy bars from the small corner store.
“You’re just weak,” they said.
“I don’t have to prove anything,” he said.
“Weak,” they said.
When one of the storeowners saw Juan’s brother and his friends stealing, he called Juan’s mother.

#

“I didn’t raise you—I didn’t rear you—like this,” his mother told Miguel. “I didn’t teach you or your brother to steal. We are a good family. We respect other people. We do not take what’s not ours.”
“I know,” he said.
“If you know, why did you do it?” she yelled.
“My friends were doing it,” he said, weakly.
“People who are really your friends do not get you in this kind of trouble,” she said, quietly.

#

Miguel looked very sorry. He did not want to lose his friends but he did not want to upset his mother and make her think he was not a good boy. He decided he would have to try to find some new friends, people who let him be himself and did not ask him to do things that are wrong. This would take thinking, time, and effort, but he would try. He would try.





5

Ethan and his neighbors Nalini and Rahki, wearing baseball gloves, stood in a row about twelve feet from each other, and pitched a baseball back and forth among them, with Ethan throwing it to Nalini and Nalini throwing it to Rahki, and Rahki throwing it over Nalini’s head back to Ethan.

#

“We’re going to a theme park with rides and things next summer,” said Nalini to Ethan. “Maybe you can come with us.”
“I’d like that,” said Ethan, “though my mother was saying I might go to a camp and learn handicrafts and sleep in the woods.”
Nalini and Rahki’s mother, Amita, called them in for dinner, and Ethan went home.

#

Ethan was surprised that he could hear his parents’ voices even before he opened the door and got inside the house. He walked in, listening.
“I’m just saying that we have enough money to live the way we like,” his mother, Patricia, said.
“Work is not just about money. I have ideas, feelings, hopes that I want to explore in my work. I can do that as an architect but I cannot do that as a truck driver,” said his father, Larry. “I think about how people live and work and I make buildings in which they live and work—or I used to.”

#

Ethan went into the living room, where they were.
“Hello,” said Ethan.
His mother looked at him.
“Ethan, look at your hair. It’s not combed. How could you be outside looking like that?”
Ethan touched his hair.
“I didn’t know,” said Ethan. “I don’t carry a mirror outside.”
“Don’t use that tone with me little boy,” she said.
“What tone?” he asked.
“You and your father are getting to be more alike,” she said.
Ethan stared at her. He could see she was angry but he didn’t think she had any real reason to be angry with him.
“He’s a boy, not an art object. He does not have to look perfect all the time,” his father said.
“How you look is the first thing that people see,” she said.
“So what?” his father asked.
“I want him to know how to present himself,” she said.
“It’s more important that he know himself and respect himself enough to be himself and not pretend to be someone he’s not,” his father said.
“Of course,” she said.

#

Ethan looked at them both. He had rarely seen his parents angry with each other and when he had it had seemed, as now, as if they were speaking a foreign language. Even though they were talking about him, it seemed somehow that they were not really talking about him at all.
Ethan smiled.
Ethan’s father smiled, then asked, “Why are you smiling Ethan?”
“This is like baseball. You each take a turn at bat.”
Ethan’s father laughed and his mother smiled.
“My head is the ball,” he said.
Their smiles turned to worried frowns.

#

“Could I go upstairs to my room now?” he asked.
“Yes,” his mother said.
Ethan went upstairs and closed his door. He turned on his computer, then his television. He picked up the television channel changer and began clicking, going from one show to another. He stopped on one, an adventure story about the Greek gods, and turned off the sound. He turned on his radio and listened to music.
Ethan sat on his bed, trying to decide what he wanted to do.

#

He went to his computer to check his electronic mail box. There was a reminder from one of his teachers about homework, and a note from his pen pal Roddy in Boston.

#

Roddy wrote,

School’s boring. The things I like to do. Word games. Drawing. Science Projects. We hardly ever do. And my parents are always asking why I don’t want to do my homework. I hate saying words and facts over and over again just so I can say them back to the teacher. Have you tried the new Discoverers computer game? That’s great.

#

Ethan wrote back,

My school’s okay.
I haven’t tried Discoverers yet. Can you send it to me?
When your parents argue do they stay angry or forget about it?
My parents are arguing. I don’t like living in a house where people argue.
Send Discoverers.

#

His mother called Ethan down to dinner. She watched his face as he walked down the stairs.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“A little,” he said.
“We’re having barbecue,” she said.
He liked barbecue but he did not smile or say anything.
“What do you want for your dessert?” she asked.
“I don’t care,” he said.
She knew this was not true.
“You can have apple pie and ice cream if you want it,” she said.
“Okay,” he said.

#

While he ate, his mother tried to get Ethan to talk, but he did not say much.
Finally, she asked, “Are you angry at me?”
“No,” he said.
“Why are you so quiet?” she asked.
His father’s eyes went from one to the other.
“I don’t know. I keep thinking about this afternoon, wondering if tomorrow is going to be the same or the next day,” he said.
“You’re very sensitive,” she said. “That’s one of the many things I like about you.”
“You also seem to know when things are not going the way they should,” his father said. “I like that.”
“Ethan, sometimes adults don’t agree and it makes us angry when we don’t agree and we can say things we should not say,” she said. “In this house, we love each other, we respect each other, and though we don’t agree all the time, those things are still true, and we still get up every day wanting to make each other happy.”
Ethan looked thoughtful. He said, “I understand. I was angry with you two for being angry with each other but I still love you.”
Ethan’s mother hugged him, while his father patted his head.

#


After Ethan showered, he went to bed. He thought about his class tomorrow on the ancient Egyptians and he looked forward to seeing his friends. I wonder if I’ll get Discoverers tomorrow, he thought, as he began to sleep and dream.

The End

(c) (DG, 1999)