7. Multi-Genre Project

Chapter 1

Coming Close From Afar

“My dear child: When these immigrants arrive, they do not come as passengers carried in the bellies of mechanical whales.

There are no lights, no music of thunder.

One of the first arrivals lands in the calm center of an eye on a black Oregon lingcod lying curled, an orphaned parenthesis atop a pillow of crushed ice at a stall rented by the fishmonger Mr. Otani.

The place smells of lemon and damp unfinished wood” (229).

The eye on black Oregon lingcod began to quiver. A red splotch began to bloom on the pupil, brightening the black to a burgundy. The splotch continued to grow, as red soaked into the iris and into the sclera turning the milky white red with blood.

The red eye started to ripple. Then, with a squelch, the eyeball exploded in a spray of blood and a figure grew out of the dead fish.

A tall man rose up, and stood bare before the world, a pair of white wings stretched out behind his back.

Mr. Otani, who had turned at the sound of the eyeball exploding stood in awe at what appeared to be an angel standing nude before him. Mr. Otani put his hands to his ears as a voice boomed in his head, “‘Lie down and let me eat you’” (211).

“When the little door opens,

A tiny man crawls through.

He climbs down a ladder

And gets inside you.

One atom at a time,

One atom at a time” (80).

: | :

All of the times Finn’s scar is mentioned more specifically in 100 Sideways Miles by Andrew Smith.

: | :

“Look: There are scars along my back where they put pins in me to heal the vertebrae.

They look like colon, vertical slash, colon. Like this:” (13).

: | :

And then Cade Hernandez said, “The tracks left in the snow by a horse with a ridiculously big hard-on.”

I said, “What?”

“That’s what that shit on your back looks like, Finn. IF a horse with a really big boner left tracks in the snow, ‘cause you’re so fucking white. It’s fucking awesome.” (20).

I do not like emoticons at all. Emoticons are combinations of punctuation marks people frequently use when they don’t really know how to express themselves in real words.

My emoticons are puncture-ation marks from the time a dead horse fell out of the sky onto me and my mother.

What emotion would those things express?

If I had to say what my marks meant, it would be this:

straight -faced guy looks at his reflection in a still pond. He is not at all impressed.

: | :

Case Hernandez said, “What flinders look like when they fuck” (25).

“Most of the time, wearing shirts was a habit of mine.

I didn’t like it when anyone paid too much attention to the emoticon scars on my back” (44).

“‘Monica Fassbinder’s split-finger grip,’ Cade announced.

‘Huh?’

Cade Hernandez poked his index finger into the center of my back.

: | :

‘Oh. Uh. Good one. You’re really gross, Win-Win,’ I said” (49).

“My father told me the inspiration for his book came frmo the scar on my back” (73).

“I gave Julia nack her phone, turned around, and looked at the moon as I pulled my tank top up over my shoulders so she could see it.

: | :

The Lazarus Door mark” (79).

“‘It’s hot,’ I said.

Julia said, ‘Take your shirt off.’

‘Okay.’

I wasn’t afraid of anything around Julia Bishop. Off came my T-shirt. The slight breeze felt so cool blowing through the wet hair in my armpits.

‘Lazarus Door,’ Julia said. ‘You are a fallen angel’” (123).

“Dad put his elbows on the mattress of the top bunk. I kept my face to the wall, my eyes glued shut.

He said, ‘Are you feeling better?’

‘I haven’t felt this good in at least two million miles,’ I said.

: | :

‘How are the teeth marks?’

I didn’t answer. How would I know?” (166).

: | : W-E-L-C-O-M-E,

A-L-I-E-N-S-! : | : (186).

“I got up and kicked the snake carcass off the dock.

And Cade Hernandez, his stiffened index finger aimed at my back, said, “A double-pierced vagina.”

: | :

‘Ew,’ Julia said.

‘Yeah. Good one, Win-Win.”

‘I try,’ Cade said.

At least I was off the hook for the rest of the day. Cade Hernandez never created more than one title for my scar on any given day” (188).

“Who wants to wear a shirt soaked in some other kid’s blood?

I offered to give him my own T-shirt, but he said no because he couldn’t think up anything new to name my emoticon scar.

: | :

I conceded that two names in one day would be expecting a little too much, even from a left-handed artistic genius like Cade Hernandez” (201).

“And Cade said, ‘Dude with four balls popping a boner ‘cause he’s in Arazona.’

‘Uh, I don’t think I would like to have four balls, Cade.’

: | :

‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘a guy would probably never get any sleep.’

‘Hard enough to sleep with just two,’ I said” (217).

“And then I felt Nathan Pauley’s hand on my shoulder again.

He said, ‘That’s an interesting scar you have.’

: | :

‘Tell me where you came from.’

I balled my hand into a fist.

What an idiot he was! He must have somehow put it all together: the epileptic boy with the two-colored eyes and the Lazarus Door mark along his spine. He probably thought if I hadn’t blanked out, I would have eaten the little kid I pulled from the river” (251).

“And just before we both shut up and fell asleep, Cade reached over and poked his index finger into my sternum and said, ‘A centipede with ninety-six amputations.’

I wasn’t wearing a shirt” (263).

: | :

Cade’s account of how he saved “that grandpa dude” from drowning.

“Diving was a big mistake,” he began. “Never dive off a thirty-foot-high fucking bridge wearing basketball shorts.”

“Because as soon as I hit the water,” Cade said, “Bam! I was stripped clean out of my shorts. Totally naked, too. They went one way, I went the other. It was ridiculous. Nobody wants to get saved by a naked guy. I’m, like, ‘Hello! I’m naked, and I’m here to save you, dude.’ It was like popping through a Lazarus Door, only I didn’t have wings, and I wasn’t very horny.”

Cade Hernandez would not let go of that book.

“You pulled someone out?” I said.

Cade reached across me and grabbed a can of chewing tobacco from the glove compartment.

He inhaled with satisfaction after he packed a wad of tobacco behind his lip, then Cade spit into his water bottle.

“That grandpa dude who was strapped in the driver’s seat,” he said. “It didn’t look good. The van was tipping over, and I was pretty sure the guy was dead, but I pulled him out anyway and got him up in the weeds on the other side of the bridge. He wasn’t breathing, so I did CPR on him. IT was fucking ridiculous. There I was, naked and muddy, making out with some old man I pulled out of a minivan beside what looked like a parking lot at a truck stop. I’m lucky I didn’t get arrested for being a naked fucking perv or something. I think half the state of Oklahoma saw me doing it there after I got him out of the water, and I was just, like, what the fuck happened Finn? And why am I fucking naked and sucking on some old dude’s face while a bunch of redneck truckers are standing there on the side of the road watching me? Dude. They took pictures with their cell phones. I’m probably naked on a million fucking websites by now.”

Cade spit.

“But you saved the guy’s life.”

“So, yeah. We are both naked heroes, dude” (256-258).

What the “redneck truckers” at the truck stop saw involved Cade Hernandez, who said his name was “Finn Easton.”

The thunderstorm had started to pass and puddles bloomed across the pockmarked gravel parking lot of the Pilot. “Hey Jim, does that look like a naked kid dragging a dead body up from the river to you?” said Earl.

“What, you’re pulling my leg again Earl, there’s no such thing. . .” Jim began as he turned to look. “Well, I’ll be, you’re right Earl. I guess it’s that time of year again. I’ll call the sheriff to come get the pervert.”

“Wait, what’s he doing now? Looks like the kid’s making a move on and kissing the dead one,” said Earl.

“Huh, you almost got me again Earl. That kid’s just doing CPR. Let’s get closer to see if we can help, but no closer than the edge of the road,” said Jim.

“Hello Sheriff, I’d like to report a perv, I mean we need an ambulance for this guy who was pulled from the river,” said Jim.