You're
an American Now
by Paul Toth
Thilo had three
short triangular clots of hair that hung over his
forehead like chopped dreadlocks, forming a dork's
crown. He often told his friends, "Don't you
evah, evah fahk wid me, did you hear'd me?" His
friends were freshmen, members of clubs non-social,
lovers of chess and magic, wargames and renaissance
fairs. Thilo, a senior, was their king. They respected
his crown, even if his nationality and mother tongue
remained mysterious. They knew only that Thilo was
very pale, that with good reason he had a hairstyle
all his own, and that he was much older than them,
which conveyed an authority he completely lacked in
any other situation.
Odd things happened to Thilo. Something
about him caused others to act strangely in his presence,
to admit to criminal acts, to test rules and regulations.
For example, one day a kid in the seat next to Thilo's
lifted his right pant leg, and revealed a knife in
his sweatsock. The kid grinned at Thilo.
"Wha'd you'd show'd me dat?"
"Look at it," the kid whispered.
People revealed to him when fire alarms
would be pulled, when drug deals were taking place,
exactly what kind of smoke billowed out of the windows
of the cars in the back parking lot. Once he was even
told who spiked the Civil War teacher's coffee with
acid.
One day Thilo and his friends went to
a party. They occupied a card table, like kids forbidden
to sit with the adults. Thilo announced to every partygoer
he could: "You fahking Amerigans don't know how
do drink, do'd you? You fahking Amerigans." That
was after one beer. After two beers: "You gogdamn
madderfahking Amerigans, you fahking don't know how
do fahking drink, you gogdamn madderfahking Amerigans!"
By the third beer, he was vomiting on his friends'
shoes.
One day Principal Weber cornered him
in the hallway.
"Tell me everything you know,"
Weber said.
"I don'd know'd nodding."
"What do you know about my school?"
"I told you'd I --"
"Come with me."
Weber's office was filled with his old
high school trophies, photos from high school, high
school yearbooks, high school football jerseys.
"Thighlow, I don't know how they
do things in Turkey--"
"I am'd not from Turkey. I'm from
--"
"I know people tell you things.
How do I know? I see them whisper to you, confiding,
bending your ear. I watch these hallways. I watch,
listen and learn. But I can only see so much. If I'm
in Sector C, I can't be in Sector B. I'm only one
man, Thighlow."
"It's Tea-low."
"There's a conspiracy in this school.
Do you understand? Something going on. I'm not sure.
I can't know everything. I can't be everywhere at
the same time. But I know. Mrs. Carter: Coffee laced
with hallucinogens. You know who did it, don't you?
I know you do. Look at me. I can see it in your eyes.
She has flashbacks in church now.
"Brian Madison did it."
"Madison? That big goofy kid? The
one who shakes his head when he talks? With the blond
mop? So he's the one?"
"Sir, I don'd know'd for'd sure--"
"Of course you don't, Thighlow.
How could you? Aw, hell, Thighow, there's no way to
know anything for sure. Not 100 percent. I mean, do
you realize that if you looked deep down into the
walls of this room, that they're moving, swirling?
Don't look at me that way. It's physics. Did you know
that's true of everything? It is, Thighlow. They may
not have taught that in Turkey."
"Why'd are'd you'd telling me dis?"
"Why? For the same reason everyone
else tells you everything. Look at you: What other
purpose could you serve? All the world's a stage,
Thighlow--"
"Please'd say it Tea-low ."
"-- and you're the audience. Hell,
the pranks these kids pull don't matter unless somebody
knows they did it. They have to tell somebody, and
that somebody better be harmless, completely and totally
impotent. That's you, Thighlow. We all have a part
to play. You should take heart in that. That should
really cheer you up."
"I am'd confused."
"I want you to start compiling
a log for me, Thighlow, a list of all the secrets
they share with you. And then I want you to give this
list to me once a week. I want names and details."
"But Mr. Weber, I don'd wan'd spy
on de oder 'tudents."
"Thighlow, I'm not asking; I'm
telling."
Thilo slumped out of the office and
was just about to turn the corner when he ran into
Milo Benz, who was perspiring so heavily that two
watermelon-shaped stains had formed beneath both armpits.
"Thilo, I did it. I left this note. I'm telling
you. It said, 'Attention Mr. Weber: We will get you
good. We watch you and we know everything. We know
all about this school so you better watch your ass
good. You better play your cards right or anything
could happen.' You believe that? Then I slipped it
under his door. I could see him unfold it and his
eyebrow going up like this, all arched. You know how
paranoid he gets. He must be full throttle crazy by
now. I never laughed so goddamn hard."
Thilo grabbed Milo's bicep and squeezed.
"Wha'd I tell'd you? Don't you evah, evah fahk
wid me. Didn'd you hear'd me?"
"What the hell are you talking
about? I'm not fucking with you; I'm fucking with
Weber." Milo jerked his arm away. "Asshole."
Thilo opened his notebook and on a fresh
sheet of paper wrote, "Milo Benz: Left note threatening
principal with unknown actions."
Suddenly Sherry Brickman ran to Thilo's
side. "Thilo, there's something...there's...Only
you would understand and I just have to, I've got
to tell somebody. I mean, you know me and Brian Madison's
been going steady, right? I mean the whole school
knows that, right? That's no secret, is it? We been
going steady for, like, six months now. But the thing
is, Thilo, that, see, I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant and
I can't tell nobody. I can't even tell Brian. He'll
kill me."
"Why'd are'd you'd telling me'd
dis?"
"Well, I--"
"I don'd even know you."
"I just thought you seemed so smart
that maybe you'd know what to do."
"I'd get an abortion."
"An abortion? I thought you were
supposed to be sweet, but you're not. You're mean,
coming right out and saying a thing like that."
Thilo wrote: "Sherry Brickman pregnant
with Brian Madison's baby."
***
On Friday, Thilo turned in his first
list, which contained information about Milo's note,
Sherry's pregnancy, two drug sales and one venereal
disease.
"This is very, very enlightening,
Thighlow, especially Milo's note. How clever they
are, planting information."
"Sir, I'd really thing dat you'd
should--"
"Ah, Thighlow, you stick to your
espionage and leave the thinking to me. Now run along."
As Thilo headed for class, Principal
Weber's voice echoed from the loudspeaker system.
"Starting today, there will be no more sticking
tongues down each others mouths. Sherry Brickman can
tell you why. Or ask Mark Baxter."
Milo grabbed Thilo's arm. "Whose
side are you on?"
"I want'd do be on your'd side."
"Yeah? Then why'd I just get handed
this note to go see Weber?"
"Weber, he'd gone'd crazy. It'd
not my fauldt. He thing you'd set'd him up."
"You know what? Don't think it's
gonna stay the way it's been forever. One day I'll
be as big as you, and then things are gonna change
around here. There might be a new boss. You remember
that. My dad says he grew six inches in his sophomore
year. That puts me two inches taller than you next
year. So if I were you, I'd watch it."
***
That night, Thilo confronted his father
with the truth about school.
"Dis school, it'd crazy."
"Ag, nonsense, Thilo. Maybe you'd
be'd da one dat crazy. Loog at dat hair. It'd loog
like'd someding from'd ouder space. Perhaps if you'd
try loog normal your'd self, dings would begin do
loog normal do you."
"But fader, da principal, he'd
thing people poison, dat dey murder. It worse den
TV. He thing everybody against him."
"Eck! You god it right: You'd watch
do much TV."
"Fader, you'd always say to come
do you if I god a problem."
"Dat's what'd I say. But you'd
god no problem, so what'd do you want'd me do do?
You re a gogdamn Amerigan, now.
***
The next morning, Thilo bought a Clark
bar at the 7-11 across from school and ate it leaning
against the out-of-order pay phone outside the store.
A car pulled in and Principal Weber climbed out, leaving
the engine running. He bought a woman's magazine in
the 7-11, returned to the car and flipped through
the pages one by one.
Long after he had finished his Clark
bar, Thilo watched Weber, still thumbing the pages.
At one point, Weber located a pencil in the car and
began filling in something on a page of the magazine.
He smiled to himself, set the magazine on the dashboard
and started the car. He reversed out of the space
and then pulled towards Thilo.
"Oh, okay. You saw me. Congratulations.
I read a magazine. We can read magazines here, Thighlow.
This isn't Turkey. In America, we read magazines."
As Weber drove out of the parking lot,
he took the magazine from the dashboard and slid it
under the seat.
