RSSChapter 6: From a Fairy Tale
Jun 11
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Once there was a boy who had his heart broken young. You can blame his father, or his mother, or the public school system, or the sadistic other kids, but none of that matters; the point is, this guy had never been un-heartbroken. You see, he was a product of his culture. He was the tightly pixellated picture of American normalcy.
On the surface, he was an adorable kid. He was plump, a little chubby, but not obese. He had rosy cheeks, and long eyelashes, and dark brown penetrating eyes, and glasses. He had worn glasses since he was three.
Four-eyed Sammy, they called him: his family and the other kids. Fat four-eyed Sammy, they called him. They used to laugh at him. And he was one of those really sensitive kids, the kids who become artists and teachers, so he cried. They picked on him for crying. It was just vicious circularity.
He was lonely. He spent a lot of time imaging adventures. He spent a lot of time reading and watching TV. They both shaped him. He loved to read Robert Frost. He loved the Dukes of Hazard and the A-team. He named his yellow bike the General Lee. He created an imaginary organization of spies; he called it the X-Team. He liked the Duke boys for their confident swaggers; he loved the A-Team because of his father.
His father was a vet of the Vietnam conflict. The war had devastated him. His dad had been sprayed with something called Agent Orange. He didn’t know what that was. No one ever explained it to him. What did that mean?
It was his professor friend, Bruce, in college, who finally told him. The chemical infected his chromosomes. It was in his father’s body when Sam was conceived. So, it was in Sam’s body now. His kids might be deformed, if he chose to have any. He would likely get cancer, glaucoma, high blood pressure, and diabetes. He is another Vietnam casualty.
I’m so sorry, Sammy.
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