A Really Awesome Mess (17 page)

I nodded and swiped at my eyes.

“Well then, no offense, but no one knows what the fuck you’re talking about.”

I took a deep breath. “Look at her,” I sputtered, pointing at the Asian lady, who apparently went by the name The Black Widow even though her real name was actually Sonya something-or-other. “She eats. A lot. And she’s not fat. I don’t eat anything and I’m not fat either. Get it?”

Everyone looked at me, completely clueless.

I tried again. “If I ate, not even like that but just like a normal person, I’d probably be Moby Dick in a matter of days,” I said. “And she eats like a lunatic all the time and is still a friggin’ toothpick. Right?”

More blank looks. It was like one big silent
And …?

“It’s not fair, none of this is fair!” I was yelling now, and everyone was staring at me, and I didn’t care. “I can’t starve myself forever, because eventually I’ll die! But the minute I start eating again? I’m gonna blow up like a balloon, I just know it! And what about that picture of my tits? It’s going to be around cyberspace even after I’m dead. The guy I sent it to never came back to me, not even after I starved myself way worse than his stupid girlfriend. But I mean, what did I expect? If my real mom couldn’t love me, why would I think some popular senior would? It’s like a genetic law. Moms
have
to love their kids. But mine didn’t. She left me on the street in a basket with a note pinned to my clothes,
like some gross old couch with a
free
sign tacked to it that if no one took pity on would end up at the dump. Well, that’s me. The unwanted garbage at the curb. At least I got the pity option and not the dump, I guess.”

I couldn’t believe how much it all hurt. It was true physical pain, despite being all in my head.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty lovable,” Justin said, a little smile playing around his lips.

I spun around and glared at him. “I can’t believe you’re giving me shit again when I’m clearly not in the best place to handle it! I thought we were past all that. You suck!”

“I actually meant what I said this time,” he told me, the smile gone. “Seriously. You should know that I only tease people I like. I’m like a second grader that way. Dumb but true. And you want to know something else that’s true? Back there on the Ferris wheel, when you were taking care of me, I think it’s safe to say I realized you are one cool girl. Lovable. Deserving of love. Whatever you want to call it.”

I turned beet red and shrugged. Justin looked embarrassed but pleased with himself. “Well, thanks,” I told him, sniffling. “That’s sweet. Doesn’t change anything, but it’s sweet.”

Diana decided she wanted a turn at comforting me, too. I braced myself for whatever tough love she was about to dole out. “For the record, I know you’re broken up about your mom getting rid of you, but let me tell you something. Not all moms
are sweetness and light. Mine for example? She’s a total asshole, not to mention an alkie and a sex addict. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her, not to mention the scumbag drug dealer she dated who actually just wanted a piece of me.”

I looked at our resident tough chick Diana, and realized she was just a heartbroken little girl on the inside. “What kind of mother lets her boyfriend do that to her daughter?” I whispered, completely horrified. I felt like such a baby, crying over my weight and being adopted when kids like Diana had a real, valid, awful reason to be pissed at the world.

Diana shrugged. “One who’s passed out cold most of the time. And don’t look at me like that. I don’t need your sympathy, bitches. He’s locked up, I’m fine.”

I wasn’t about to argue with her, even though I thought we were all at Assland specifically because we
weren’t
fine.

“I’m never going to be a mom,” Jenny piped up, despite the fact she promised not to talk again this whole trip. “I mean, my mom’s not bad per se, but she totally loves my stepdad more than us kids. Takes his side every time, no matter what. Like with Wilbur. She promised me I could keep him as a pet after the contest, but when my stepdad saw how much money we were gonna make by selling him, he got mad and said no. She immediately backed down. So instead of bringing Wilbur home, we brought home the bacon. Pun intended.”

A roar went up in the crowd. Diana’s crush Joey Chestnut had
killed the competition once again. That dude wasn’t fat either. Argh, the world was mystifying.

A slide show came on the big screen onstage, flashing practically pornographic pictures of the first-, second-, and third-place contestants deep-throating eight zillion hot dogs. The Asian lady came in third.

“God, for all I know, she
is
my mom,” I muttered.

Tracy cracked up. “Now who’s being racist?”

I pointed to myself like,
Who me?

“That chick’s Korean, Holmes. You’re Chinese, remember? You think all Asians look alike or something?”

I tried to laugh but it came out a single hollow
ha
! The truth was, anyone in the entire world could have been my mom and I’d never know. I was just going to have to accept that fact and move on if I ever wanted to be happy again.

Jenny uncharacteristically had still more to add to the conversation. “Want to know another reason why I’m never going to be a mom? Because I couldn’t even protect a pig! How would I ever be able to take good care of my kids if I can’t even keep a pet alive?”

“That’s it! I’ve had it!” Diana yelled. “The guy who molested me? Said no one would believe me if I told, and no one else would want me anymore anyhow, not after what he did to me. Emmy’s mom ditched her in the street and now she thinks she sucks. Everyone here let someone else make them believe they’re a bad
person or a worthless piece of shit or whatever. And you know what? Those assholes can suck it. We’re a pretty cool bunch.”

I started clapping, and soon everyone but Jenny had joined in.

“What, no kudos for the kid?” Diana asked her.

“I guess I figure we’ll all learn to live with our problems eventually, whether we do it on our own or Assland forces us to,” she said. “But those poor pigs? Are still screwed. It’s like Wilbur all over again, and I still can’t do a damn thing about it.”

We all pondered that one for a few minutes, and then it was like a lightbulb clicked on over Diana’s head. “I got it, Jenny,” she said. “Tracy, you distract the lady running the show. Make up some of that awesome shit you’re so good at—”

“But I thought I was supposed to tell the whole truth today—” he interrupted her.

“Temporary restraining order on that one. It’s for a good cause,” Diana interrupted right back. “Jenny, you get onstage as soon as Tracy starts working his magic and grab the microphone. Chip, you can hack anything, right? I want you to take over the computer they’re using for the slideshow right now and find the most disgustingly graphic factory farm videos out there. Once Chip’s got that going on screen, Jenny, you have to use your voice for once. Say whatever it is you have to say about Wilbur. That’s the whole point. We can’t just sit around being sad or scared or pissed anymore—we have to
do
something about it instead.”

“What about us?” Justin asked, pointing at me and him.

“You guys?” Diana said. “Oh, you lovebirds are coming with me.”

“Where?” I asked, not sure I actually wanted to know. Not that I had a choice or anything. Diana was already dragging me by the hand and shoving Justin ahead of her with her free arm.

“We’re busting those poor pigs outta here before they end up like that,” she said, pointing at a passing hot dog cart.

I WASN’T REALLY SURE WE WERE GOING TO BE ABLE TO PULL OFF
any kind of porcine great escape.

I was also kind of worried. Had I just told my skeletal friend that I thought she was lovable? I mean, yeah, she kind of was, but still. Was it going to make things weird? Yes, of course it was. Did I mean I liked her as more than a friend? Maybe, not sure, possibly? I usually preferred my girls with some fat deposits on their chest that indicated they were actually female. I just … I guessed it had been a while since I felt any kind of connection to someone, and I just got carried away. And now that was probably going to break the connection.

Well, at least setting some pigs free was going to give me something to think about besides my feelings, which, honestly, I was
kind of tired of analyzing all the time. “So,” I said to Diana, who was still clutching the Dora under one arm, “what’s the plan?”

“Plan?” she said. “I thought we’d just go through and open some gates. I mean, right?”

“And which parts of that plan stop the angry farm boys from beating me to a pulp?” I asked.

“We’re just kids,” she said. “It’s a harmless prank!”

“No, Diana. You’re just a kid. Emmy is female and would blow away in a strong wind, so she’s exempt from the beatings. But I am a sixteen-year-old boy. I am prime beating material. Who do you think the angry 4-H boys are going to hunt down and beat if he sets their possibly prizewinning pig free on the state fairgrounds?”

“You’re so sexist,” Emmy said.

“Hmm,” Diana said. “I hadn’t given any thought to this.” “You mean you hadn’t given any thought to anyone else,” Emmy said.

“Well, yeah,” Diana said. “I mean, you don’t have to be a genius to connect the dots with me, right? When the people who are supposed to take care of you don’t take care of you, you kind of figure you have to take care of yourself and the hell with everybody else, right?”

“I … I have no idea,” Emmy said. I didn’t say anything. And a new wave of self-loathing washed over me. My parents never abused me. Why the hell was I such a mess?

“Ah, Christ, Justin’s getting mopey again,” Diana said. “Emmy, why don’t you go blow him behind the fried dough stand or something—oh right, calories.”

I was blushing, and Emmy actually punched Diana in the arm. “You know, I was almost feeling compassion toward you before you said that,” Emmy said.

“I’d say you punch like a girl, but it’s really more accurate to say you punch like an infant,” Diana said. “And I don’t want your pity or your compassion or any of that shit. I just want my Dora and to set some pigs free and for everybody to shut the fuck up. I’m obviously never gonna get the last part, but I’ve already got my Dora, and maybe we can take care of the pigs. I’ve got an idea.”

Diana told us her plan. It made me kind of uncomfortable because it used people’s compassion against them, but I guessed that probably worked for Diana. We reached the pig barn and Emmy went right and I went left while Diana waited outside.

I pretended to admire a really colossal hog for a minute. He looked up at me, and I tried to read his expression. It was really tempting to think he was saying he wanted help, or he was bored, or where does a hog go to get laid around here, or any of a number of things, but, I tried to remind myself, he was an animal. Still, it was tough to look into his eyes and not imagine a mind at work behind them.

My career as an aspiring pig psychic was cut short by a heartbreaking wail from the center of the barn. “Mommy?” Diana
cried. “Mommy?” I looked over, and even though I knew what I was seeing was completely fake, it kind of tugged at my heartstrings. There was little Diana, who looked about ten, her face red and wet with tears, clutching her Dora and crying out for her mommy.

I wondered for a second if she was able to fake this so well because she had a lot of memories of calling out for a mommy who wasn’t there, but I never wanted to think about that, so instead I just threw open the bolt on the pen I was standing next to.

“There you go, buddy,” I said to the fat pig inside. “You’re free. Live it up.”

I walked quickly, but not too quickly, down the row of pens. Pretty much everybody was looking at Diana, so it wasn’t hard to just flip the latches open as I walked by without attracting attention. There were hundreds of pens in here, and between Emmy and me we’d probably only be able to get twenty or so open, but it was something. That was at least twenty more pigs that would get freed.

I reached the center of the barn and met up with Emmy. We were ready to run out, but then I realized something: Our pigs hadn’t moved. They could get out, but they didn’t know it. Or they didn’t care. Maybe they were stoked to be able to lie around all day and get fed and brushed and stuff, and there was really no way to tell them, “Hey, guys, this really isn’t going to end well for you.”

A woman with her long gray hair in a braid that went down
to her butt was leading Diana out of the barn saying soothing words. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetie,” she said. “We’ll find your mommy.”

This was my cue, so I started heading out the back of the barn. I was going to come around the outside screaming, “Lynnie! Lynnie!” and then Diana would break away from her rescuer and come running into a big hug with me (her idea, followed by “and if you try to cop a feel, I’ll cut you open and slop the hogs with your guts”) and I’d say how Mom had been worried sick, thank you kind stranger for finding my sister, blah blah blah.

Diana shot me a look under the gray-haired woman’s arm. It wasn’t hard to read. It said, “Why hasn’t pig-related chaos erupted yet? What the hell is wrong with you idiots?”