*
PLAYING HOOKY
definitely do not like school. I
guess it would be OK to say that I
hate school. The stupid cast on
my leg had me going berserk, so
the only thing I could do was scrib-
ble. That's what most teachers would
call the junk I write. I get fails on
everything I turn in; so what..
Every ig turn in, so what.
Flunking's nothing new to me- in fact,
it was one of the last times that I
applied myself and still got an F that
made me decide to give up and not
even bother going. I remember it per-
fectly. It was two weeks before I bust-
ed my leg. All I'd do is ditch like a little
scrambler avoiding truan
scrambler, avoiding truancy officers
officers
I wich
and narcs. I wish I was school smart
'cause if I was, I'd sue the stupid
sue the
L.A.U.S.D. for not being able to keep
me on campus. That's a narc's job. I'd
campus. Fats a farlo go
argue it like this: Had the school been
able
accommodate my educational
needs correctly, I would never have
Heeds correctly, I would
busted my leg because I would
never
have been out on the streets in the
first place. Oh well; I'm not school
Hot pour probably never will be
smart now- probably never will be.
I'll never be able to sue anybody.
The hospital was quiet hera
hospital was quiet because
everybody was going to sleep. But not
me, 'cause I wasn't tired. I'm never
tired. I'm only tired of
not being able
to sleep. This guy in the bed next to
ing like a walrus. I knew
me was snoring like a walrus.
now it would be twice as hard for me.
my
My eyes wandered about my hospital
my left leg. It was
room. I could
see my
It felt
t fine and there
t my right
leg was plas-
totally unbroken.
was no cast. But my
tered up real nice, like icing on a cake.
The get well balloons were
the dark. "Oh fun were shining in
a
"Oh fudge," I thought,
"I
hope I don't die from writing scribble
in a pad with no light on." I was joking.
Lights are
and wortant
you're
when you're read-
ing and writing; it's just so doggone
the way teachers or older
annoying the way teachers or
people always remind you. The hospi-
tal room was just like any other
I room. It had a
tal room.
hospi-
that
a zillion things t
shouldn't be touched by any t
rized personnel. I didn't have to
Pabout that because I wasn't
about that because I wasn't
worych nothing I turned my
my
gonna touch
reading lamp on and watched my
watch with my eyes. It's fun looking at
and move. It's like a
the hands stick
trick time. It's tricky, if you're s
if you're stopped
goin
it's
then it's
it's going and if you're going then
stopped. This might not make sense to
many people. That's why I get F's,
'cause I write down scribble and I
don't make sense. But that doesn't
r because I
matter
I have fun. Speaking of
fun, I set down my new get well
watch and snuck over to spy on the
snorer. I bet that whoever slept next to
him at home was happy he was hospi-
talized. Well, not happy; maybe they
snored too. Maybe they both snored
and snoring alone made them feel
alone, like a lonely snorer. I got down
from my bed cautiously and felt light
headed as I scuffled over to the cur-
tains which separated my room from
the snoring person's room. I peeked in
saw
and was shocked at what I saw. There
was a skinny old lady was wide
was a skinny old lady who was wide
awake. She was sitting up in her bed
awake.
with a cassette recorder in her lap..
lap.
When she ca e she pus
When she saw me she pushed a button
and the snoring stopped. I was fright-
She
ened and I guess she was too.
grumbled, "What a are you doing peek-
ing in my room? I'm calling security!"
"No, no ma'am, I'm sorry. I just
heard you snoring
d you snoring loud and I couldn't
sleep so I wanted to wake you and tell
you to turn over so you'd stop snor-
and ten
"closed the curtain and hobbled
ing." I closed the curtain and hobbled
hack around to my bed. I boosted
back around to my bed. I boosted
myself back onto my bed and laid
there a little tripped out, wondering
why that lady had
why that lady had a recording of some-
shake in
body snoring. Fifteen seconds of won-
dering went by before I noticed a little
in the curtain. I also heard the
lady moving around.
"Is it if I I enter
your room?" I
knew it was the old lady, I recognized
her voice.
it OK
"I said. Then she entered. She
had her IV and oxygen on a little rollie.
"I would have knocked," the old lady
said, "but there's no wood to knock on.
"It's OK," I said. "What is it?"
you were
"I saw your light on so I presumed
awake," she said.
"Yeah, I'm still awake. Have a
seat," I told the old woman. She sat
in a visitor's
s chair.
T
"I suppose you're wondering why I
came over here." I told her no, I wasn't
over
wondering why she came over, but she
told me anyway. "See this?" She
showed me her recorder.
"Yeah, what is it?" I asked.
"It's a digital recorder. I can
I anything, crystal clear, from
away."
record
miles
"Oh yeah?" I asked.
"Yeah," she said.
"So who is that snoring that you've
recorded?"
got
"It's my husband. He's hospitalized
down the street. We have different
insurance plans, so he's over there
while I'm over here."
"Oh yeah?" I asked in an interested
voice. I didn't want to be too cold to
this old woman. She continued.
"Whenever I I can't sleep I just play
the recording of him snoring and
then I just imagine that he's right
next to me."
"That's a good idea," I told the lady.
I was really thinking that she was
nuts, but I didn't want to give off that
*
by Mark Gonzales
impression. It might keep her up. "Did
your husband buy that digital
recorder for you?" I asked.
"Oh no, my husband doesn't know
about my digital recorder. Only my son
set the watch on the bedstand. When
the sun was up I closed my eyes.
Sleeping is complicated.
The next morning I woke up and the
nurse brought in my food. It smelled
healthy. The nurse's voice sounded sin-
cere. "Good morning, patient."
"Good morning, nurse." The nurse
asked if I'd care for a breakfast guest.
"Who is it?" I asked.
"The old woman next door,"
she said.
she said.
knows. He got it for me; he's a really It was like I had made a friend. She
"OK, I guess so." I felt kinda happy.
important person."
"Yeah? What's he do?"
wasn't my age, but she was cool. I was
"He's the head of the ICA," she said. anxious for more conversation. The
curtain which separated us was
pulled open.
That's that?"
"It stands for the International
Certificate Associa
Association."
Now I
I was getting interested. The
old lady was sitting there with the dig-
ital recorder in her hand. I felt sad for
her. She had the top of the line tech-
nology. Why couldn't she be next to
her husband? Then I asked her, "If
oldest son is so imp
your oldest son is so important, surely
ne could arrange for his mother and
could arrange for beds
he
father to have hospital beds next to
each other or if not that at least to he
each other, or if not that, at least to be
hospitalized in the same
hospital."
The old lady looked at her recorder. I
could tell she was sad. She
is. She paused.
"Well, my
wit well, my son is very busy, not only
with work, but with a
own." She began to weep the way
began a family
older people do. It made
incredibly
me
of his
older people the subject as fast as I
sad. I changed the my watch from the
could by dropping my
bed stand to the floor. It fell perfectly
right beside her feet. She p
picked up the
watch and handed it to me.
"Oh, thank you," I said, "my uncle
Bob bought this for me. It's a get well
watch." I was holding it in my hand
and looking at it.
"Funny gift," the old woman said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because in a
e in a hospital, the last thing
o be reminded of is time."
you want to
I
"I told him I wanted a watch
though, so it's not that strange of a
You wanna see how it lights up in
gift.
the dark? Watch the hands move.
They glow."
They glow."
her the watch. Suddenly a
I showed
good idea came to mind. "It would be
a lot better if it had a mini digital
recorder that could run off of a super
tiny battery."
next year.
the old lady said. "Maybe
"Morning," the old woman said.
"Good morning, Ma'am."
"You sleep OK?" She asked me.
"No," I answered. "I never sleep OK,
especially when my leg is covered with
plaster."
I removed the plastic dome
that was protecting my food from
germs. I began eating my rubber eggs.
"How's the food?" The old woman
asked me.
"It's better than not having food."
She laughed, but I wasn't trying to
"Can you show me how your digital be funny. I asked the nurse for some
recorder works?"
"No," the old lady said. She was still
sad.
"Maybe
tomorrow." She began to
head back to her side of the room.
"Good night,"
"I said.
"Good night," she said.
When she was gone I turned out
the light and watched the glow in
the dark hands move. Before I fell
asleep, I tried hard to listen to see if
I could hear her playing her digital
recording of her husband snoring
but I couldn't hear it. Maybe she's
got some high tech head phones. I
hot sauce.
"No," the nurse said, "You will not eat
your eggs with hot sauce."
I wasn't going to argue with her. "Can
I have some salt?"
"Sure. It's on your tray."
I began looking for the salt and when
I found it I got upset because the salt
was low sodium. I kept quiet about it,
though, I was just happy that I was
gonna be getting out soon. The nurse
left, and then it was just me and the old
woman, alone.
"Boy am I glad she's gone," the old
woman said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Cause I don't like her very much, and I've got
something private I want to share with you."
"What is it?" I asked.
"I
pretty
I won't go into full detail, but I will break it down
as
fast for you." She brought out her little digital
recorder and played back a hospital visit in which my
mom was getting on me about school. I couldn't.
first 1
believe it. At first I got pissed and told her she was
invading my privacy. She told me to quiet down and
listen. I couldn't help but listen. I was in disbelief. My
mom's voice was coming through her tiny little con-
traption. "If you would have been in school where
you were supposed to be, none of this would have
happened." "But Mom, Mom..." when I heard my
voice I was like 'Damn, my shit is maturing."
"Wait, play that back!" As soon as I enjoyed
hearing it she stopped the tape. Isn't that how it
always works? This old woman was a trip. "Let me
see it, I want to
hear myself."
"No," she said.
let you see it
"I'll let
and show you how
it works, only if
you tell me if your
mother was right."
"OK, yeah, Mom
was right. Can I
see it now?"
"No. It's not a
is a digi-
toy. This is
tal recorder. Now
you wanna see it,
so you'll say
whatever I wanna
not
hear, but it's d
that
gonna be that
Now listen."
easy. Now
She played.
it
again. I heard my
mother's voice
"If you
again.
would have been
in school where
you were sup-
posed to be, none
of this would
have happened."
Now the old
, but I
woman was quizzing me. Fuck, I hate school,
wanted to check out that digital recorder. I put my
hand up like as if I was in school. It was an
an automat-
ic reaction. The old lady looked at me like I was
pathetic. "What are you doing?" She asked me.
"I'm calling a nurse. That little gadget of yours is
an invasion of privacy."
I felt stupid because the old woman was just
laughing at me. "Why are you laughing?" I asked.
"Because the nurse isn't going to
believe you," she said.
I put my hand down slowly
ANT
ER IM
HURT
and realized that the nurse would not believe me. I
picked up my watch and looked at that for a while.
A different nurse came in to collect the leftover fla-
vorless unhealthyness. I take that back. Hospital
food is supposed to be real good for you, nice and
healthy, but I don't eat it. I was getting antsy to
check out that old woman's digital recorder, only
now she had her TV on. She was watching Family
Feud. I always get pissed when people watch TV but
have something else on their mind, and I know
that's what she was doing. She was watching Family
Feud, but waiting for me to ask how her digital
recorder worked. I waited for the first commercial
ecord
CHECK
break, and then broke down.
"OK, my mom was right. If I would have been in
school, I wouldn't have broken my leg."
With her remote she zapped the TV off. She sat up
in bed and looked over to me, not saying a word.
"What?" I said. "I was waiting for the.."
"Don't what me!" She said, "What was was more
important than being school?"
"Skateboarding." I didn't say that, but that's what I
was thinking. She called ditching school playing
hookey. "Do you play hookey often?" she asked.
"It's ditching," I told her.
"OK, do you ditch all the time?"
"Yeah," I said. I had to be honest; she was honest
with
in
me.
"Don't you like school?"
"No"
"No."
"Why don't you like it?"
"Cause all my grades are F's and I always get
trouble."
I felt like I was totally exposing myself. The look on
her face showed me she cared. She seemed con-
cerned. I was quiet and held back my tears.
"You don't seem like a bad kid. What were you
doing when
you broke your leg?"
"I was running from a school narc."
She laughed and lighter
I away."
you just about got awarned things up a bit. "I bet
"Yeah," I said, "I only broke my leg 'cause I was
too much attention to
paying too
him and not to what
was happening. But I didn't want him catching me
because he
he would have brought me into the school
office and they would have had to call my mom at
work and then
would!
I have had to leave her
my mom
by one arm in a tight grip and his hand around the
walkie talkie. He was so angry, and so proud that he
caught the kid, that he was gonna parade the kid
around.
front of the other kids to let them know
that if they tried to ditch they would be caught just
as he was. But in my opinion, it only let the kids
know who I was and what he did."
I didn't know if she was understanding. I think she
was, because every so often she would say "yeah" or
"right, OK, go on."
"So when he crossed over and was on my side of
the street, about 20 feet ahead of me, I got under-
rked car'
neath a parked car."
Her face became alarmed. "That's dangerous."
I I said. "I like the excitement."
"Yeah.
"Go on," she said.
"So I'm under the car watching for his feet. After
a while his feet passed back and forth- I was hold-
ing back from laughing 'cause I got this guy looking
up and down the street for me."
This is where I got the old woman. She was waiting
for me to continue with my story, but I didn't.
silence
There was only silence.
"Well, carry on
then," she said.
"Carry on; are you from England?" I asked her.
"No. On with it!"
I knew she wanted to hear what happened next.
In my mind I knew she was American, but the
eagerness in her voice brought out kind of an
English accent. I bet as a kid she spent time in
England. Kids are always eager there, and when
old people are eager their voices sound like they
did when they were children. I can't really pinpoint
the point that I'm trying to make. I had better get
back to the story because if I don't, it might piss
her off. Then she wouldn't share how her digital
recorder worked with me.
"I stayed under that car for a pretty long time.
The narc's feet had come and gone a long time
ago, but I wanted to be safe. After enough time had
passed and it seemed safe to come out from under
the parked car, I saw his goddamned feet.
worse.
other
t again. He
was walking slowly, but what happ
t happened next
made i
on the
I heard something on
side, a
, so I turned my head and got a glimpse. I
wasn't stupid. Someone was
was getting into the
parked car that I was beneath. 'Holy shit,' I said
to myself. 'Please don't let them start it up.' Sure
enough, I heard the engine. I panicked because,
as I heard the car start, I was
I
narc's feet.
I didn't
job. It ends up being a huge hassle, so I thought if I
could avoid the narc I'd be cool, but like I said, I was
too concerned with him so POW! I busted my leg."
The old lady looked dumbfounded. I didn't know if
she e understood me. "That's interesting. I mean in
your
mind y
you understand it all and it makes sense,
but to me... I don't understand. How did you actual-
ly break your leg?"
"Well, I was right near campus because my mom
just dropped me off. I made it look like I was going,
but right when I was up close to the entrance of
the school I took notice of an older, sporty looking
guy watching me from across the street. He fol-
lowed me for two or three blocks until he passed me
up. I kept watching him to see
when he would
cross over. I imagined that he would wait for me to
get to where he was and
then confront me
confront me"
AMBULANCE
SAFTY
She was listening and
seemed to be getting it all
so I kept going, but before I
she asked,
could continue
"How can you be sure he
was a school narc?"
"Well..." I paused. I felt
good, like I was the teacher, and
a good one too because she was
interested. "I knew he was a narc
'cause he busted a kid ditching a
couple of weeks ago. He had the kid
wants looking right at the
to get caught, so I fig-
ured I'd wiggle my way out away from the curb
side to avoid the narc. I started crawling out from
beneath the car on the driver's
passed, but I
side. One car
the lookout on his feet as I was hung. I kept
under there.
I didn't see any others
I was hurrying from
there. I knew he'd probably see me when I
got out from under the car, and figured I'd have to
run. I was ready for all that, but I was so wrapped
g that I didn't have time to pay atten-
up in thinking
tion to another car that was now reversing in to get
the spot
just
Remember, I was beneath the car pulling out, so I
got
of the car that
car that had t pulled out.
got hit by the one reversing to take its spot."
Now the woman was holding her face with both
hands. She was horrified. It was pity mixed with
horror. I was
I was smiling because the medicine that the
doctors gave me took away a lot of the pain.
"Oh," the old woman said, "that's too much."
I brought my right hand over and tried to show
her where the tires hit me, but she turned her
her head.
Her
The talk of that story settled down after a while.
A nurse came in and handed me two pills. I was all
smiles. They must think I'm crazy here because
most people hate hospitals. But I love 'em, so I
must be nuts. I swallowed my pills and waited to
see how the digital recorder worked.
These two pages are dedicated to Jasmine Huynh, thank you for your help. M Gonzales