It's Kind of a Funny Story

She likes you, boy, and if you can’t tell that, you aren’t going to be able to tell a rifle from a cap gun in this war.

What war is that, again?

The one you’re fighting with your own head.

Right, how are we doing?

You’re making gains, soldier, can’t you see that?

Noelle and I sit with Humble and the Professor.

“I see you two have made each other’s acquaintance,” Humble says.

“Leave them alone,” the Professor says.

“Where were you?” Humble continues. “Were you in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G?”

“No.”

“Nothing’s happening,” Noelle says.

“We’re just sitting together,” I say.

“‘Craig and No-elle, sitting in a tree—’” He gets up and puts his hands on his hips, sashaying.

“Hold on, now, what’s going on here?” Joanie comes over. “Is there a problem, Mr. Koper?”

“No. What? What are you talking about?” He holds up his hands, sits down. “You mean me?”

Joanie scoffs and announces: “This is free-period arts recreational therapy, for all you latecomers!” Humble points at me and Noelle, making a little shame on you gesture. “That means you can draw whatever you feel like. It’s a great chance to explore your creativity and find out what you like to do for leisure! Leisure is very important!”

Joanie comes up behind me when she’s done announcing: “You’re new. Hi, my name is Joanie. I’m the recreation director.”

“Craig,” I shake her hand.

“You want pencil and paper, Craig?”

“No. I don’t have anything to do. I can’t draw.”

“Sure you can. It doesn’t have to be representative. You can do abstract. Do you want crayons?”

“No.” God, it’s so embarrassing. Being asked if you want crayons.

“How about paints?”

“I told you, I can’t draw.”

“Paints are for painting, not drawing.”

“Well, I can’t do that either.”

“What about markers?”

“No.”

“Everyone?” Joanie turns to the room. “Our new guest, Craig, has what we call an artistic block. He doesn’t have anything to draw!”

“That’s too bad, buddy!” Armelio yells from his table. “You want to play cards?”

“Armelio, no cards in here. Now, can anyone give Craig something he can draw?”

“Fish!” Bobby yells out. “Fish are easy.”

“Pills,” Johnny says.

“Johnny,” Joanie admonishes. “We do not draw pills.”

“Salad,” says Ebony.

“She wants you to draw it, but she sure as hell can’t eat it,” Humble guffaws.

“Mister Koper! That’s it. Please leave the room.”

“Ohh-hhhhhh,” everybody says.

“That’s right!” Ebony calls. She makes the umpire gesture. “You’re outta here!”

“Fine,” Humble stands up. “Whatever. Blame me. Blame the guy who has total respect for everybody else.” He gathers his things, which is nothing, and steps out of the activity lounge. “You’re all a bunch of yuppies!”

I watch him go.

“You can draw a cat!” the guy who’s afraid of gravity says. “I used to have one. It died.”

“Rolling pin,” the bearded man says. It’s the first words I’ve heard him say since I saw him in the dining room on my way in. He still rocks and he still paces the halls whenever he isn’t shuttled into a room.

“What was that, Robert?” Joanie asks. “That’s very good. What did you say?”

But he clams up. He won’t say it again. Rolling pin. I wonder what that means to him. If I had one thing to say, I don’t think it would be rolling pin. It would probably be sex. Or Shift.

“He can draw something from his childhood,” Noelle says next to me.

“Oh, there’s a good one. Noelle, you want to speak up?”

She sighs, then announces to the room: “Craig can draw something from his childhood.”

“That’s right,” Joanie nods. “Craig, do you like any of these suggestions?”

But I’m already gone. I’ve got the river started at the top of the page, looping down to meet with a second river. No, wait, you have to put in the roads first, because the bridges go over the water, remember? Highways first, then rivers, then streets. It’s all coming back to me. How long has it been since I did this? Since I was nine? How could I forget? I slash a highway across the center of the page and make it meet with another in a beautiful spaghetti interchange. One ramp goes off the junction through a park and ends in a circle, a nice hubbub of residential activity. The blocks start out from there. The map is forming. My own city.

“Oh, somebody got Craig’s mind unblocked!” Joanie announces from the other end of the room. I glance back. Ebony, who’s been sitting over there, goes through the arduous process of getting up with her cane and walks toward me. “I want to see.”

“Huh, thanks Ebony,” I say, turning back to the map.

She looks over my shoulder. “Oooh that’s pretty,” she says.

“What is it?” Armelio yells.

“Let’s not yell across the room,” Joanie says.

“That is extraordinary,” the Professor says next to me.