Sporking The Coach That Never Came - Chapter 7
I am so fond of prejudice. Sooooo fond of it. Soooo very, very fond of it.
Yes, folks, this chapter is a good one. Wherein "good" means "absolutely fucking sucktastic."
Disclaimer: No actual library books were harmed in the making of this spork. If I could kill things with my mind, however...
7. The Old One
This chapter starts rather incoherently, with Paul and Jay returning to Grandma's and Paul randomly thinking about how he's actually sort of glad he's there. ...maybe he wasn't missing out so much on Europe after all. Of course, he'd be going to see museums and castles and cathedrals there, but he'd be listening to Jesse or some tour guide tell him what he was seeing and what he should be thinking. Tour guides tell you what to think? What kind of tours has Ms. Beatty been on? Here in Colorado he was doing things for himself Sort of, part of the time. When people aren't telling you what you should be writing about. Or wearing. No, that wasn't quite right. He was doing them with new friends, like Jay. If you do things with people, you're not doing them for yourself? This whole paragraph is a mess.
Paul takes Jay up to his room and for some reason Jay copies the letter by hand. Wouldn't it make more sense to take it to the drug store at the shopping center three blocks away and get a Xerox copy? I'm pretty sure there were copiers in drug stores even back in the '80s. Was this book originally going to be set in the past?
The two boys go back down and Grandma informs them that she and Paul have been invited to Mrs. Smart's - she's the mother of the librarian who's been helping Paul. Helen Smart's very formal. She'll want to see you in a necktie, Paul. Either we've left the planet again or this is another reminder that Paul and his family and their associates are rich. Who asks their friend and her grandson over for dinner, apparently on the spur of the moment, and expects them to dress up? Then again, I don't come from a subset of people who dress up for dinner.
Then Grandma goes all creepy and we get a really icky bunch of stuff. Jay, please sit down and tell me a little about yourself." She smiled at him.
"What did Paul tell you already?"
"Not enough." WTF? That's not an answer and he's your guest, not your prisoner or your specimen.
Jay shrugged. "There's not a lot to say. My real dad was a Ute. He's dead. My mom's a Ute, too, though she's married to a white man now. I was born on the Ouray Reservation. It's named after a Ute chief. I'd kind of hope a native Coloradan would know that. I went to school there for a while. We just came here last year -- my mom and stepdad and the Old One. I guess the Old One must be about a hundred years old. She was a relative of Chipeta's. And now she's a relative of Micky Mouse. I suppose the sentence is technically correct, but it's so easily misread.
"Who's that?" asked Paul.
"The wife of Chief Ouray. Way to diminish her, there. You could've thrown in at least a little of her efforts on behalf of the Utes. The Old One's related to my mom, too."
Mrs. Weber said, "That makes you a sort of prince then?" Jesus Fucking What!? D: *stabs book*
"Oh, I don't think so. Ouray's not part of my family. Would you like to hear more about my people?"
They both say yes and Jay gives a short very generic paragraph of information about Native Americans, horses, and the Utes specifically. Then Grandma Creepy says: Jay, I've also heard that some of the Indians have beautiful religious beliefs." *dissolves in frothing incoherence* He's not an exhibit!!!!! ARGH!!!
Jay gives a brief - very brief - description of a few Ute beliefs. My ability to google and see if they're accurate is impaired by my longing to throw the book on the floor and jump and down on it for this whole passage.
"That is fine, Jay."
...
...
*throws book on the floor and jumps up and down on it*
If anyone has any trouble seeing what is wrong with this, imagine someone saying that sentence about your religious beliefs or even your ancestors' religious beliefs. Would you like to join me in jumping up and down on the book? *moves over to give room*
Before leaving so that Paul and Grandma Creepy can get ready for their dinner date, Jay asks if Paul is going to wear the buckle to dinner. Grandma Creepy says he's not. Jay heads home and Paul asks if the librarian will be there.
"I have no idea. I didn't ask Mrs. Smart. Is she your friend or not? I don't call my friends Mr., Mrs. or Ms. Such-and-Such, I use their first names. If she's not your friend, what's with her summoning you to dinner that you have to dress for? Is this some weird rich people thing? I don't know whom she has invited. I doubt if you'll find anybody your age there. She has no grandchildren. She wants to meet you because she knew your mother and Lance (dead uncle) as children. Was she their teacher? Are you her friend? I don't understand any of this. Perhaps you'll have a dull time. Life is full of dull times. When it's not like a box of chocolates. But I can promise you one thing -- good food. She's famous as a cook. Her desserts are wonderful. Rich lady with confused connection to the family cooks? Sure. *throws up hands*
Paul tells Grandma that Jay told him that Utes would eat dessert first when they ate with white folk.
Sally Weber put her arm around Paul's shoulders. "That strikes me as a good way, if not a healthful one, to start a diet. Whut? On what planet does that make sense!?
Grandma then asks Paul what he and Jay found out at the library and we get a rehash of knowledge to date. After this, Paul changes, and - despite not having worn the buckle all day and despite Jay having looked at it on top of his dresser when they were in his room earlier - he takes off the buckle and sets it on the letter on the dresser. Way to check your work for consistency, Ms. Beatty.
Paul and his grandmother show up at the Smarts' and find that the librarian is there, but isn't staying to dinner. In another attack of inconsistency, he says that his mother called him in the morning to say that she'd invited them to dinner. Did Ms. Beatty just completely forget what she wrote or are we supposed to be impressed with Mrs. Smart's confidence that they'd accept her invitation? He also asks if Paul is wearing the buckle, even though it should be obvious whether he is or not. As big as it's described as being, I'm not sure even buttoning his suit jacket would hide it.
Then Matthew (the librarian) says two things that make no sense together: ...my mother likes things gussied up for her parties. ... I learned about three-piece suits -- like the one I've got on -- when I went to library school in the East. Setting aside the mind-boggling image of library school being filled with three-piece suit wearing students, and the impossibility of someone not knowing about three-piece suits until they went to college, what in blazes did Matthew wear to his mom's parties before? (I'm assuming that it is what one would wear to a formal dinner party. My fashion knowledge is pretty much nonexistent.)
Matthew and Paul engage in some repetitive conversation about what Paul has discovered and Jay's project. Matthew wishes Paul luck on the contest and leaves. The dinner party is boring, since everyone but Paul is his grandmother's age and talked about things that had happened forty years back, about people they all knew and he didn't. Which isn't too surprising, but after the reason given for Paul's invitation, you'd think at least Mrs. Smart would talk to him. He asks the men (yes, specifically) if they ever heard of Frank Hart, Kid Ruby, or Bronco Billy Smart. One of the two men does remember seeing Billy as a rodeo clown when he was a kid. He was supposed to be one of the best rodeo clowns in the entire country at the time, as I recall."
On hearing this, Paul felt a glow of pleasure and -- yes -- of pride, too. Gag. I have (possibly illogical) issues with the idea of being proud of other people, anyway, but this is particularly vomitously written.
When Paul and his grandmother get home and Paul goes up to bed he discovers that the letter and buckle are missing. Paul looked to the open window, seeing its curtains blowing in the wind. Could they have blown off? *facepalm* He searched the floor beside the bureau, then peered under it. Under it? Is this magical wind? No buckle -- no letter! He went to the window and looked out. Just out of sight below the windowsill was a tall ladder. But it had been on the other side of the house that afternoon!
Of course it had. Because people always leave tall ladders leaning against their houses for no reason. And we can't forget that in fiction, no one has screens in their windows. Bugs don't exist in fiction, you see, so screens weren't invented there. If this kind of silliness isn't on TV tropes, it should be.
Paul manages to work out that someone moved the ladder and used it to climb in his window and steal the buckle and letter. It's so blindingly obvious that having him work it out makes me worry for his future at that expensive private school. He then promptly decides that Jay is the only person who could have taken it. Never mind that he told everyone he talked to that day where the buckle was. Never mind that every person he told either knows or could find out from a member of their own family where Paul lives. It must have been Jay. I am snarkless with rage. His "reasoning"? Jay had copied the Frank Hart letter, but that wasn't good enough. He wanted the real one along with the ruby buckle.
That makes... ... absolutely no sense. It's predicated on nothing. Except, possibly, prejudice. And why would he want the letter and buckle?
Paul goes and tells Grandma and the two of them check the rest of the house for signs of burglary. Nothing else has been taken and There were no signs of anyone trying to get through the doors or other windows . Why would they need to break in anywhere else? And how does this eliminate someone going around the house and checking the doors and windows before moving the ladder and going in through the only open window?
Paul then tells Grandma it was Jay. Other people knew about the buckle, but they didn't know I was going out tonight and wouldn't be wearing it. You actually weren't wearing it until Mrs. Beatty forgot. And they could always have knocked on the door first, if they were someone you know. And they don't know where my room is, either. Perhaps not, but Kelly's dad and his coworker may know the house - they went to school with your mom and one even dated her and was friends with her brother.
Grandma raises none of these logical objections to his conclusion jumping and just goes along with his belief. What jackasses.
Paul has trouble sleeping because of the betrayal he's concocted. He plans not to tell anyone else who he blames, just that it was stolen. Maybe Jay would sell it. Even if it were only worth fifty dollars, they seemed to need money in is house. What the flying fuck? Because Jay has a summer job? Because they're not as fucking rich as you, spoiled little slimewad? Mrs. Beatty really didn't consider that most of her readers would not be rich brats.
In the morning, Grandma tells Paul that there were other break-ins on their street. This doesn't effect Paul's conclusions, until Jay calls and Grandma points out that Jay would be unlikely to call if he'd stolen from Paul and that Jay likely didn't do the other break-ins. Actually, even that doesn't really effect Paul's conclusions. He bikes twelve blocks to Jay's house to meet the Old One and is barely polite.
The Old One only speaks Ute, but Lewis, Jay's friend and a language student at college, comes over to translate. Indian Peaks come up again, for some reason, despite being no where near Colorado Springs. But then we are treated to a very strange version of translating.
"I don't get this [Lewis says]. She just now talked about 'rocks dancing' and 'long time back,' and four times in a row she's said 'red boy.'" So she's speaking film Indian in Ute. Awesome. *stabs book*
Jay asked, "Does she mean other Indians?" ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? FUCKING FUCK. No wonder I didn't remember this part of the book. I erased it from my mind lest it rot my brain.
Lewis can't make any sense of what she's saying and leaves. Then the Old One points at Paul for some reason and says: "Bus." Then she hissed, " Frank Hart," and spoke three words in Ute. Which Jay translates to red boy.
Paul asks: "Is she saying that he was an Indian?"
*HEADDESK* Wow, he sure deserves a first class private school education. Or, then again, perhaps he really, really needs that education, because holy fuck can he not think. Or remember things that were said five minutes ago.
Jay, whose brain is not collecting dust, theorizes that she's telling them that Frank Hart was Kid Ruby. And 'bus' could be the stagecoach that never came Oooh, oooh, the title!. She calls anything that has wheels on it a bus. Why isn't this book about Jay? It would be somewhat less annoying.
Jay has even located a light bulb they can use to check the Hart letter for secret writing. Yes, Paul, he's clearly so desperate for money he'd steal your belt buckle, fuckface.
By the time Jay has finished explaining how the light works, Paul has finally grasped that Jay did not steal the letter. *kicks him* He tells Jay that the letter and the buckle were stolen and Jay is just as upset. He also wants to investigate.
It's about time.
This entry was originally posted at http://smurasaki.dreamwidth.org/87371.html.
Yes, folks, this chapter is a good one. Wherein "good" means "absolutely fucking sucktastic."
Disclaimer: No actual library books were harmed in the making of this spork. If I could kill things with my mind, however...
7. The Old One
This chapter starts rather incoherently, with Paul and Jay returning to Grandma's and Paul randomly thinking about how he's actually sort of glad he's there. ...maybe he wasn't missing out so much on Europe after all. Of course, he'd be going to see museums and castles and cathedrals there, but he'd be listening to Jesse or some tour guide tell him what he was seeing and what he should be thinking. Tour guides tell you what to think? What kind of tours has Ms. Beatty been on? Here in Colorado he was doing things for himself Sort of, part of the time. When people aren't telling you what you should be writing about. Or wearing. No, that wasn't quite right. He was doing them with new friends, like Jay. If you do things with people, you're not doing them for yourself? This whole paragraph is a mess.
Paul takes Jay up to his room and for some reason Jay copies the letter by hand. Wouldn't it make more sense to take it to the drug store at the shopping center three blocks away and get a Xerox copy? I'm pretty sure there were copiers in drug stores even back in the '80s. Was this book originally going to be set in the past?
The two boys go back down and Grandma informs them that she and Paul have been invited to Mrs. Smart's - she's the mother of the librarian who's been helping Paul. Helen Smart's very formal. She'll want to see you in a necktie, Paul. Either we've left the planet again or this is another reminder that Paul and his family and their associates are rich. Who asks their friend and her grandson over for dinner, apparently on the spur of the moment, and expects them to dress up? Then again, I don't come from a subset of people who dress up for dinner.
Then Grandma goes all creepy and we get a really icky bunch of stuff. Jay, please sit down and tell me a little about yourself." She smiled at him.
"What did Paul tell you already?"
"Not enough." WTF? That's not an answer and he's your guest, not your prisoner or your specimen.
Jay shrugged. "There's not a lot to say. My real dad was a Ute. He's dead. My mom's a Ute, too, though she's married to a white man now. I was born on the Ouray Reservation. It's named after a Ute chief. I'd kind of hope a native Coloradan would know that. I went to school there for a while. We just came here last year -- my mom and stepdad and the Old One. I guess the Old One must be about a hundred years old. She was a relative of Chipeta's. And now she's a relative of Micky Mouse. I suppose the sentence is technically correct, but it's so easily misread.
"Who's that?" asked Paul.
"The wife of Chief Ouray. Way to diminish her, there. You could've thrown in at least a little of her efforts on behalf of the Utes. The Old One's related to my mom, too."
Mrs. Weber said, "That makes you a sort of prince then?" Jesus Fucking What!? D: *stabs book*
"Oh, I don't think so. Ouray's not part of my family. Would you like to hear more about my people?"
They both say yes and Jay gives a short very generic paragraph of information about Native Americans, horses, and the Utes specifically. Then Grandma Creepy says: Jay, I've also heard that some of the Indians have beautiful religious beliefs." *dissolves in frothing incoherence* He's not an exhibit!!!!! ARGH!!!
Jay gives a brief - very brief - description of a few Ute beliefs. My ability to google and see if they're accurate is impaired by my longing to throw the book on the floor and jump and down on it for this whole passage.
"That is fine, Jay."
...
...
*throws book on the floor and jumps up and down on it*
If anyone has any trouble seeing what is wrong with this, imagine someone saying that sentence about your religious beliefs or even your ancestors' religious beliefs. Would you like to join me in jumping up and down on the book? *moves over to give room*
Before leaving so that Paul and Grandma Creepy can get ready for their dinner date, Jay asks if Paul is going to wear the buckle to dinner. Grandma Creepy says he's not. Jay heads home and Paul asks if the librarian will be there.
"I have no idea. I didn't ask Mrs. Smart. Is she your friend or not? I don't call my friends Mr., Mrs. or Ms. Such-and-Such, I use their first names. If she's not your friend, what's with her summoning you to dinner that you have to dress for? Is this some weird rich people thing? I don't know whom she has invited. I doubt if you'll find anybody your age there. She has no grandchildren. She wants to meet you because she knew your mother and Lance (dead uncle) as children. Was she their teacher? Are you her friend? I don't understand any of this. Perhaps you'll have a dull time. Life is full of dull times. When it's not like a box of chocolates. But I can promise you one thing -- good food. She's famous as a cook. Her desserts are wonderful. Rich lady with confused connection to the family cooks? Sure. *throws up hands*
Paul tells Grandma that Jay told him that Utes would eat dessert first when they ate with white folk.
Sally Weber put her arm around Paul's shoulders. "That strikes me as a good way, if not a healthful one, to start a diet. Whut? On what planet does that make sense!?
Grandma then asks Paul what he and Jay found out at the library and we get a rehash of knowledge to date. After this, Paul changes, and - despite not having worn the buckle all day and despite Jay having looked at it on top of his dresser when they were in his room earlier - he takes off the buckle and sets it on the letter on the dresser. Way to check your work for consistency, Ms. Beatty.
Paul and his grandmother show up at the Smarts' and find that the librarian is there, but isn't staying to dinner. In another attack of inconsistency, he says that his mother called him in the morning to say that she'd invited them to dinner. Did Ms. Beatty just completely forget what she wrote or are we supposed to be impressed with Mrs. Smart's confidence that they'd accept her invitation? He also asks if Paul is wearing the buckle, even though it should be obvious whether he is or not. As big as it's described as being, I'm not sure even buttoning his suit jacket would hide it.
Then Matthew (the librarian) says two things that make no sense together: ...my mother likes things gussied up for her parties. ... I learned about three-piece suits -- like the one I've got on -- when I went to library school in the East. Setting aside the mind-boggling image of library school being filled with three-piece suit wearing students, and the impossibility of someone not knowing about three-piece suits until they went to college, what in blazes did Matthew wear to his mom's parties before? (I'm assuming that it is what one would wear to a formal dinner party. My fashion knowledge is pretty much nonexistent.)
Matthew and Paul engage in some repetitive conversation about what Paul has discovered and Jay's project. Matthew wishes Paul luck on the contest and leaves. The dinner party is boring, since everyone but Paul is his grandmother's age and talked about things that had happened forty years back, about people they all knew and he didn't. Which isn't too surprising, but after the reason given for Paul's invitation, you'd think at least Mrs. Smart would talk to him. He asks the men (yes, specifically) if they ever heard of Frank Hart, Kid Ruby, or Bronco Billy Smart. One of the two men does remember seeing Billy as a rodeo clown when he was a kid. He was supposed to be one of the best rodeo clowns in the entire country at the time, as I recall."
On hearing this, Paul felt a glow of pleasure and -- yes -- of pride, too. Gag. I have (possibly illogical) issues with the idea of being proud of other people, anyway, but this is particularly vomitously written.
When Paul and his grandmother get home and Paul goes up to bed he discovers that the letter and buckle are missing. Paul looked to the open window, seeing its curtains blowing in the wind. Could they have blown off? *facepalm* He searched the floor beside the bureau, then peered under it. Under it? Is this magical wind? No buckle -- no letter! He went to the window and looked out. Just out of sight below the windowsill was a tall ladder. But it had been on the other side of the house that afternoon!
Of course it had. Because people always leave tall ladders leaning against their houses for no reason. And we can't forget that in fiction, no one has screens in their windows. Bugs don't exist in fiction, you see, so screens weren't invented there. If this kind of silliness isn't on TV tropes, it should be.
Paul manages to work out that someone moved the ladder and used it to climb in his window and steal the buckle and letter. It's so blindingly obvious that having him work it out makes me worry for his future at that expensive private school. He then promptly decides that Jay is the only person who could have taken it. Never mind that he told everyone he talked to that day where the buckle was. Never mind that every person he told either knows or could find out from a member of their own family where Paul lives. It must have been Jay. I am snarkless with rage. His "reasoning"? Jay had copied the Frank Hart letter, but that wasn't good enough. He wanted the real one along with the ruby buckle.
That makes... ... absolutely no sense. It's predicated on nothing. Except, possibly, prejudice. And why would he want the letter and buckle?
Paul goes and tells Grandma and the two of them check the rest of the house for signs of burglary. Nothing else has been taken and There were no signs of anyone trying to get through the doors or other windows . Why would they need to break in anywhere else? And how does this eliminate someone going around the house and checking the doors and windows before moving the ladder and going in through the only open window?
Paul then tells Grandma it was Jay. Other people knew about the buckle, but they didn't know I was going out tonight and wouldn't be wearing it. You actually weren't wearing it until Mrs. Beatty forgot. And they could always have knocked on the door first, if they were someone you know. And they don't know where my room is, either. Perhaps not, but Kelly's dad and his coworker may know the house - they went to school with your mom and one even dated her and was friends with her brother.
Grandma raises none of these logical objections to his conclusion jumping and just goes along with his belief. What jackasses.
Paul has trouble sleeping because of the betrayal he's concocted. He plans not to tell anyone else who he blames, just that it was stolen. Maybe Jay would sell it. Even if it were only worth fifty dollars, they seemed to need money in is house. What the flying fuck? Because Jay has a summer job? Because they're not as fucking rich as you, spoiled little slimewad? Mrs. Beatty really didn't consider that most of her readers would not be rich brats.
In the morning, Grandma tells Paul that there were other break-ins on their street. This doesn't effect Paul's conclusions, until Jay calls and Grandma points out that Jay would be unlikely to call if he'd stolen from Paul and that Jay likely didn't do the other break-ins. Actually, even that doesn't really effect Paul's conclusions. He bikes twelve blocks to Jay's house to meet the Old One and is barely polite.
The Old One only speaks Ute, but Lewis, Jay's friend and a language student at college, comes over to translate. Indian Peaks come up again, for some reason, despite being no where near Colorado Springs. But then we are treated to a very strange version of translating.
"I don't get this [Lewis says]. She just now talked about 'rocks dancing' and 'long time back,' and four times in a row she's said 'red boy.'" So she's speaking film Indian in Ute. Awesome. *stabs book*
Jay asked, "Does she mean other Indians?" ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? FUCKING FUCK. No wonder I didn't remember this part of the book. I erased it from my mind lest it rot my brain.
Lewis can't make any sense of what she's saying and leaves. Then the Old One points at Paul for some reason and says: "Bus." Then she hissed, " Frank Hart," and spoke three words in Ute. Which Jay translates to red boy.
Paul asks: "Is she saying that he was an Indian?"
*HEADDESK* Wow, he sure deserves a first class private school education. Or, then again, perhaps he really, really needs that education, because holy fuck can he not think. Or remember things that were said five minutes ago.
Jay, whose brain is not collecting dust, theorizes that she's telling them that Frank Hart was Kid Ruby. And 'bus' could be the stagecoach that never came Oooh, oooh, the title!. She calls anything that has wheels on it a bus. Why isn't this book about Jay? It would be somewhat less annoying.
Jay has even located a light bulb they can use to check the Hart letter for secret writing. Yes, Paul, he's clearly so desperate for money he'd steal your belt buckle, fuckface.
By the time Jay has finished explaining how the light works, Paul has finally grasped that Jay did not steal the letter. *kicks him* He tells Jay that the letter and the buckle were stolen and Jay is just as upset. He also wants to investigate.
It's about time.
This entry was originally posted at http://smurasaki.dreamwidth.org/87371.html.