Disruptions

In Texas, there is a young kindergarten teacher lifting a Burmese python out of a repurposed box of oranges. Children have gathered in a circle on the Thomas-the-Tank-Engine rug, sitting Indian style and picking bubble gum from the treads of their shoes.

“It’s so slithery,” shrieks a child.

“Looks dangerous!” deems another.

“Hissss,” hisses a third.

“His name is Paul,” Ms. Jameson tells them. “From Burma.”

“Hello, Paul,” the children say in unison. They are a canvas of sweat-covered foreheads and dirty fingernails, bubble-gum shoes and sticky faces. Those brave enough to approach the box cover the reptile with a blanket of hands and wide peering eyes. Someone drops a crayon onto Paul’s head, and little Timmy Johnson accidently tips the box over while reaching for the crayon: his favorite color – cyber grape. The python slithers onto the floor, sending the kindergarteners running for tables; screaming, stomping, and hissing.

A young boy is sitting absent minded on the Thomas-the-Tank-Engine rug, because his mind does that sometimes, but mainly because he can’t remember which car his mother will be driving, or if Evan the Elephant will be on t.v. when he gets home, or if his mom packed cookies in his lunchbox. A delightful surprise.

“My goodness,” Ms. Jameson says, her voice sounding hardly surprised.

The class watches in a mix of horror and excitement as Paul the Python wraps around the young boy’s frame as he daydreams, slowly tightening his grip, squeezing.

There is a soft pop.

2

In Florida, Margaret is hosting a self-help group for nervous callers. Signing up by phone is not allowed. Signing up for the course can be done by email or text message.

“Remember the training. Pick up the phone and answer the call. Close your eyes and pretend you are drifting away. You’re sending an email when there’s a knock at the door. Do not ignore the knock. Go to the door. Reach out your hand and firmly grasp the handle. Turn the knob and open it up.”

In the circle, callers are taught that voices are safe. Various phone numbers are written in the margins of their self-help handouts; fathers they meant to call, services they meant to cancel, and pizzas they meant to order.

“Ten numbers,” Margaret says. “Just ten numbers and you can talk to anyone.”

There is complete silence as a young man’s phone rings. The tone is a wedding march.

“It’s my fiancé,” Jim says, his mouth going dry. “What do I do?”

Margaret leans forward and takes Jim’s hand.

“You should answer it.”

Tim wants nothing more than to answer the phone, but his hands are shaking too violently.

“I can’t,” he says.

“Just reach out,” Margaret says. “Open the door.”

“I’m opening the door,” Jim says, his eyes closed, his mind concentrating. He presses the ‘answer’ button firmly, puts the phone to his ear, and takes a deep breath. “Hello?”

The group is waiting anxiously for Jim’s fiancé to say something, but after a few moments the line goes completely silent. The screen of the phone - completely dark.

3

In Tennessee, there is a girl named Laura checking out a well-known book of short stories at the public library.

“That’s garbage,” the librarian tells her. “You’d do better reading pages from a phonebook.”

Laura can only think to herself how crooked the librarian’s glasses are, how she smells of smoke, and how her fingers are blackened by ash. Her skin looks to be composed of crumpled pages from a dirty Victorian paperback.

When the librarian asks Laura for her card, she reaches into her pocketbook. Never before has there been so much junk in a child’s purse. Laura likes to be prepared. She carries all of her costume jewelry, her princess pony, her mother’s perfume sprayed on a testing card, and a small black notepad. She searches for a moment, but keeps coming across an old stick of cinnamon chewing gum. Her card is missing.

Sad...