Detention

Kath crouched on the floor of the shop, clutching the phone to her ear. She was behind the toxic chemical trash can, and she was fairly certain she couldn’t be seen by Lou. She felt like her heart was visible in her chest, heaving and shining and bright pink, lunging against her chest cavity. Kath always noticed the physical symptoms of fear or stress, she often felt a strange sense of distance. She had noticed her knees knocking together or her heart fluttering or her rapid pulse rate many times in her life.
She was on the phone with Miss Gotti, the detention supervisor at Yerba Buena High School. Her son Wade had been called into the office again for cutting class. He had been in detention for three months, including a one day stint in the “Box”, a windowless room where kids sat all day. Wade was supposed to do either morning detention, where homework could be done; or afternoon detention, where you wore an orange vest and cleaned up the trash on campus. He had 27 more days to go, which would probably have to be carried over to next year. The trouble was, he kept on cutting, so he kept racking up more and more detention points.

“Don’t you see that detention isn’t effective for him Miss Gotti? He just keeps on cutting.”

“It doesn’t matter, anyone, no matter who they are, has to serve detention if they cut.”

“Isn’t there any other option, anyone else he could talk to, that would be more effective?”

“He could talk to Miss Benson.”

“But she is just his academic adviser. Isn’t there anyone in the structure of Yerba Buena he could talk to that could possibly change. . . .”

Kath could hear Wade’s voice, he was in the office with Gotti. Kath heard shuffling and a click, and Miss Gotti came back on the line.

“I just wanted to get him out of the office for a moment. I don’t think his problem is the cutting, I think his problem is marijuana.”

Kath had heard this before, and the words no longer had the power to panic her, as they had when he was younger. She felt resigned, she knew he got high, but nothing she did seemed to stop him. Wade was beyond grounding.

“And what are you basing that on? His behavior? His friends? It’s just your opinion, right?”

“Yes, just my opinion. And his friends. Maybe he could talk to Mr. Dillman, that’s the only possibility here at YB.”

Wade would never open up to Dillman. Dillman was one of the super soft spoken, corduroy jacket wearing Master’s of Social Work guys who think they are cool dudes, and she knew Wade would sit like a stone in his office. No, the school wasn’t going to help. Kath felt her pulse rate slowing. Nothing too dramatic would happen; the school was just feeding her the same old bullshit.

“Maybe you should look into rehab for him, I don’t know what your medical insurance is, but I know Kaiser has a good plan and so does Pyramid.”

Pyramid was a local cut-rate therapy program that Wade had to attend after the freshman year bust. The security guard at school found him smoking behind the portables.The school didn’t call the police, but they required him to attend eight sessions of drug counseling or meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous.His counselor at Pyramid had signed him off after four sessions, mostly because he had started to cry during the sessions. Pyramid did “get tough” counseling, and at the time Wade was a very young 14. The therapist told Kath he didn’t need drug counseling, that he was so sensitive that she thought the therapy was counter-productive. But that was a few years ago.

Since that time, Kath had found half liter plastic bottles with the tops cut off, covered with an oily film that smelled like hash, she guessed it must have been some kind of a bong. She had found baggies with leaf residue crumpled in Wade’s sock drawer. She had found a probation report for one of Wade’s friends, all about “intent to distribute”. She had found a capsule of Prozac on the welcome mat to her house, probably dropped. She had killed two huge plants in the back of the garden, hidden by some overgrown shrubs. Kath had lost some of her ability to be shocked and dismayed.

“Listen, I have taken up enough of your time. I want to excuse him for Friday, when he missed the whole day. Thanks, bye.” Gotti was saying something but it didn’t matter.

Kath clicked off the phone, but kept on crouching, hoping some plan of action would occur to her. Thankfully, no one was in the back of the shop, trimming and mounting the posters, or printing the comps, or running film through the processor.
It was filthy back there, with splotches of ink and huge abraded patches on the floor, scarred by chemical splashes. Outdated instructions and shop rules that were no longer followed were still tacked to the wall, often one on top on the other. Whenever a piece of equipment became obsolete, it was either pushed out into the street to be carted off by the many homeless scavengers in the area, or it was pushed to a far corner in the cavernous space. The trash was always overflowing, and the pizza boxes that were stacked by the recycling attracted some kind of fruit fly. The place hadn’t been cleaned in any sense of the˙ word for years.

Kath knew she better get back to work before someone noticed that she was not at her station. She had decided a long time ago that the only way to keep sane at work was to never think about Wade while at work; and to never think about work when she was with Wade. This had worked when he was a baby or in preschool, but lately her twin lives had begun to overlap. A nagging little fear, a question she couldn’t face answering; a sensation that she kept banishing kept flitting through her mind. Kath rose stiffly and headed back to her cubicle in the front of the shop.

That morning, Kath had driven Wade to morning detention, which required getting up at 6. She had to nag him to get up, calling him at least three times. He had refused to eat any breakfast. He spent 15 minutes in the bathroom, yet Kath never heard water running or the toilet flush.

Kath sat in the car with the motor running and the dog in the back. She watched the minutes tick by on the car clock, willing her front door to open before 7:05 a.m.The minute Wade got in the car he alternately complained that : 1, his head hurt and that 2, they would be late. Kath got stuck at that light that always took five minutes to let the highway traffic flow. “ Wade, what do you want me to do then? Are you trying to say that you are just going to cut again? Is that why the headache?”
“Just shut up! I wasn’t trying to say anything! I just have a headache! Fuck!”

Wade was 5’10” and weighed 170, and his presence in the car was now overwhelming, especially since he was cursing and yelling.

“ Wade, all I want is for you to graduate. That’s all you have to do. You don’t have chores, I give you allowance every week, I do everything for you, and all you have to do is go to school and not flunk out.” Kath had said this exact thing at least three times a week for at least six months. She almost felt like rolling her eyes herself when she said it again. Nagging was useless, but she couldn’t seem to talk about anything else with Wade.

“I do go to school. They just are after me for every little thing. Half the time they mark me absent when I am there.”

They rode in silence for awhile. Wade wouldn’t look in her direction. It was a cool and foggy morning, as it often was by the coast this time of year. Their dog, Biff, hated conflict and was laying down in the back of the station wagon, probably cowering with his paws over his ears. He should be getting used to yelling by now.

It was 7:08 a.m., and the student had to arrive at the detention office no later than 7:10 a.m. Kath was going 59 in a 35 mile zone, barreling up the hill. She couldn’t make the left turn onto campus due to traffic. She felt near to screaming, and she held the steering wheel held so tightly she felt like she could break it into little pieces. She pulled into the visitor space at 7:09, according to the car clock. Wade headed into the building. He didn’t hurry. Kath felt guilty that she was glad to see him go. She rested her head on the steering wheel for a second, and moved to switch on NPR. Even war news was relaxing.

She jumped when Wade yanked the door open and slammed it.

“She wouldn’t let me in. I was 30 seconds late. She let the other two kids in, but not me.”

“What? After all the detention you’ve served? “

“Gotti doesn’t care.”

Kath backed out of the lot, narrowly missing a SUV that was blocking the school drive.

“Well, I guess I can drop you off at Vince’s then, and he can take you to school. I can’t believe she wouldn’t let you in.”

Kath dropped Wade off , and went to the jogging trail with Biff. Every day she went jogging. It took about 45 minutes to complete the trail, and she usually thought about Wade the whole time. She didn’t know what to do.
It was so bad that she was even taking Dear Abby’s advice. Just the other day Abby had said, “Sometimes if you don’t know what to do, the best thing is to do nothing.” At least doing nothing was a new option.

Kath thought she had been such a good mom. She always had the healthy snack; she had read oodles of books to him, she took him to the playground and the museum and the zoo. He had always come first. She thought she had always treated him with respect. She always gave him a birthday party. She had helped with homework for years. She didn’t even date.
Kath never talked to Wade about the divorce; it had happened when he was so young, and it just never seemed to come up. Kath always thought they were doing just fine. He never asked questions about his dad, and Kath made sure she never said anything negative about his father, just in case they began a relationship someday.

Wade was a nice boy, sensitive, an animal lover, sweet, mellow. But he had always been attracted to the different kids, the edgier kids. In his preschool, he chose the kid who had a dad in jail as his best friend. In fact, all through elementary school he had chosen the friends who lived in the worst house on the block or who had to attend court ordered visits with their dad.
The last grade in school Wade had liked was third. Then it seemed to Kath as though the teachers and administrators of the schools had risen up, like some kind of right-wing army, full of inflexibility and exuding phrases like “zero tolerance.” Once, at a school meeting, Kath had heard a parent say that “Zero tolerance wasn’t enough.”

Kath had started to sweat, she had gone about a mile. It was gray and bleak still, but Biff seemed to be smiling when he looked back at her. That used to be enough to cheer her up, but not anymore. She could see the ocean in the distance, with whitecaps breaking, and the only sound was the birds. If only prayer worked, if begging to the universe worked, if there was a plan at school, an alternate program, if only he would talk to somebody, if only he would stop cutting, if only she knew what a good parent would do.

She felt like crying. She knew her face was like the tragedy mask, she could feel that expression distorting her features, that expression Wade’s dad had said was part of the reason for the divorce. That, and the sponge in the sink was never squeezed out but always sopping wet. He had said she was too negative, and he left, taking the bed with him. He hadn’t been heard from in years. Everybody in the family said he hadn’t wanted children, and Kath’s accidental pregnancy just wasn’t in the cards for him.

Kath struggled through the hill challenge, and headed for the cool down and home. Something made her drive by Vince’s house; the boys should already be in the midst of first period, it was 8:30. When she turned onto Vince’s street she saw the Pathfinder still in the driveway.

She honked the horn, knowing it was silly to expect that he would come out. Right, and apologize, and jump in the car, and never cut or get an F again until graduation day. Kath was a coward, she didn’t want to walk up and pound on the door and confront him. She had read that you should never embarrass your teen in front of their friends. Also, she had on purple jogging tights and a shabby sweatshirt, no makeup, her hair was tweaked and she was sweating like a pig. She didn’t want Vince to see her, or to have to confront Wade feeling so ugly. She drove home.

When she got there, her anger and frustration returned, and she called Wade on his cell, punching in each number. The fact that he would check the caller ID and not answer gave her more courage than she had had at Vince’s door. Of course, he didn’t answer and she had to leave a message.

“ Guess what? When I got finished running, I drove by Vince’s and saw the car. I’m coming over there.” Her voice came out furious and bitter. No way would he call her back.

She hung up and caught sight of herself in the hall mirror. Should she go back over there, looking as bad as she did? Or should she shower and put on makeup, and just leave for work from there? She walked toward the door, and then headed back to the bathroom, with Biff looking at her quizzically. Kath decided she would do the confrontation as a surprise attack, and not show up right away. She headed for the shower.

Forty-five minutes later, she drove by Vince’s. Naturally, the boys had hit the road. She should have known. She had a few extra minutes, so she decided to see if they had gone to Brad’s. No go there either. She had done the typical Kath thing, and made a bad decision. She knew she was weak and cowardly, she had always been that way.

Kath drove around their suburban neighborhood. Most people had headed off to work already; the lucky ones were walking their dogs or just coming out of their houses for the paper. Kath had always worked, even when Wade was a baby.
An impulse made her go up her own dead-end street and sure enough, there was the Pathfinder at her house. They knew she had to leave by 9:30. Did she have time to deal with this now?

She clenched her jaw as she pulled into the driveway. She could clearly hear music and voices. She hoped that they weren’t getting high. She went into the house, and saw Wade through the kitchen window.
Wade and Vince were just coming in through french doors that led to the deck, and Wade was looking back at Vince and laughing about something. Another friend was still outside, probably on the trampoline, and he was yelling to them. Vince saw her first and the look on his face warned Wade for a millisecond before he turned and saw Kath.

“You are so busted? What are you doing here? I can’t believe you cut again!”

“We are just skipping first period! We were planning to go back.”

“You aren’t going to graduate at this rate! You are already flunking four classes! What the hell are you thinking! I trusted you!”
Wade never looked away from the tirade, he kept his clear blue eyes fixed on her face. He wasn’t guilty or worried. Kath noticed the yellow leaves on the orchid behind him, and the abashed expression of Biff, caught in the crossfire from his sunny patch on the rug by the deck. She saw Vince looking toward the other kid, signaling him to shut up, with the look of a trapped small animal. Pity for Vince made her stop, and she told Wade to come with her outside.

Kath yelled at him some more, mindful of the neighbors and the guys remodeling the house next door. It was all so pointless anyway, nothing seemed to make him stop cutting and failing. She had no idea what to do, what strategy to use. She told him to go back to school, and got in her car.

Kath never expected this. She had always had such high hopes for Wade. In preschool they thought he might be gifted. But it had been a series of reduced expectations, raising him. Slowly, good grades and college were out, then he was getting high all the time, and lately all she wanted was for Wade to graduate. Even that seemed iffy. Taking the GED test had become a viable option.

As soon as she got to work, 20 minutes late, she was greeted by fake-friendly Lou, her boss. He made a huge deal of saying hello loudly, so that everyone would realize how late she had come in. She slunk to her work station, turning on the computer and tossing her purse and coat on the hook in one quick motion. Rich, her office friend, popped his head up over his station and smiled, then disappeared, in less than 3 seconds.

Luckily, today Lou didn’t follow Kath to her desk. Kath was relieved, as Lou was the master of the dig that was couched in terms like “What can we do to improve our communication skills so we can all work better?”, or “Let’s create a meeting where we can work out our differences,” or “I just want you to be happy, knowing that you are doing a good job, and if this project isn’t complete soon you won’t feel that way”. With the guys, he always used sports analogies to motivate them; with Kath, he always used “family” ones, like “Each member of our family has their own strengths” especially when he was taking her off a project.
Lou thought buying pizza for the crew every Friday and psycho-babble would carry the day. Kath was sick of the sight of him, with his big bright whitening strip smile and little brown mustache and permanent press khakis. She had no choice, jobs were hard to come by. At least Rich was her friend. They had sat side-by-side now for twelve years, and knew each other’s family problems perfectly, but they had never even been to lunch together. Lou would never let them go at the same time. Kath and Rich did magazine layout work for local magazines, her specialty being the ads in the teen skateboard mags, and Rich did the editorial, which was mostly just photos of skate boarders.

As soon as Lou shut his office door for a meeting, Kath decided to call rehab, just to ask some questions, to see what was up. Miss Gotti was just a former gym teacher, but maybe there was some advice or criteria the Chemical Dependency Unit could tell her, some workshop for parents or something.

Immediately, it was clear to Kath that if you ask about chemical dependency for your teenager, people instantly become concerned and polite and their tones become hushed. No one had ever wished her good luck for an appointment with a gynecologist, but member services was all over her for this one. They took her number, and in a few minutes a shrink called her back, Dr. Bonaduce.

“So, what is the criteria for bringing a teen into the Chemical Dependency Unit?” Kath asked, hoping she sounded educated and concerned.

“Do you have reason to suspect he uses drugs? Have you ever smelled smoke on his clothes? Is he lethargic? Struggling in school?”

“Well, I think he probably does smoke pot, and the school suggested rehab today because he has been cutting so much, but I think the problem is with school, not really with . . . .anything else. . . . .”

Bonaduce abruptly cut her off.
“Do you know how much marijuana affects a teenager’s brain chemistry? It isn’t like an adult smoking marijuana, it actually affects their ability to think properly. No wonder he has trouble in school. You really must get him in here, and the sooner the better. Does he have learning disabilities?”

“ Not that anyone has ever noticed. Um, isn’t this a little sudden? I mean, aren’t there some pertinent questions you ask, just to see if rehab is really needed. . . . “

“Look, this is an outpatient rehab. The intake interview, which I am about to schedule you for, will establish all these things, as to whether it is a problem with school, or more likely, a problem with drugs. Now, I’m the parent of a fifteen year old, and I think that if you suspect that there is a problem, there is a problem.”

“Yeah, but the person who told me was just a gym teacher. She is just the attendance supervisor, so I don’t think she is an expert. . . .”

Kath gave up. She could always cancel the appointment on the online 24 hour cancellation program. She half listened to the doc telling her the first interview would take 3 hours and the entire family had to be present and it could only be scheduled between the hours of 10 and 3 on a weekday.
Lou popped his head around her cubicle.

“Have you finished the Slap ads yet?

“ I haven’t had a chance to do those yet, but I’m working toward them.”

Lou sighed, and shook his head slightly.

“Remember, we are all happier when you can make sure that you have at least two CD’s to burn each morning when you come in. That makes the whole team all feel good, and the client feels good about us. It’s just a win-win situation, Kath.”
Kath kept her eyes on the computer screen, and her hands posed on the keyboard. There was a little flaw on the monitor, which caught the overhead lights and glistened. Kath wanted to put her finger on it. Her eyes were always drawn to that little flaw when Lou was talking to her.

“You never said you needed anything first thing this morning when I left last night.”

But shouldn’t you know our schedule by now? You’ve been doing this for awhile.”

The phone rang, and Nikki the receptionist called Lou, and Kath was left in peace. Working on the layouts could be hypnotic, just the same steps over and over until the ads for the magazines were in the printing format. Kath knew exactly what to do, and so the hours would pass. And they did. Kath even ate her sandwich at her desk. She had to get at least 20 layouts done today. She kept the chatting with Rich to a minimum and got a lot done.

Like that, it was five p.m., and everybody was packing up. Nikki was laughing her chimp laugh, eager to get out of there and smoke freely, without having to make up trips to the mailbox to sneak a cig. Lou was a Scientologist and frowned on people talking substances into their bodies. Kath decided to stay a few minutes after quitting time, maybe process two more files. It was 5:20 when Kath tried Wade on his cell phone, just to see if he had made it home from school.

“Are you okay? How was school?”
“It was all right. How come you are still at work?”
Kath was touched. He had noticed that it was after five, and it seemed like he was taking her part, like he had always done as a child.

“Hey, Wade, thanks for caring! I’ll see you at six or so.”

Wade muttered something and got off the phone.

Kath used to rush home at this time, desperate to be on time at the babysitter or the preschool or the aftercare or before Wade had been latch-keying it for too long. These days there wasn’t much of a hurry. He wouldn’t be home most nights, and there was almost always a message from the school that he had cut that day.

Kath got into the house at six. Amazingly, Wade was there, back in the den where the video games were kept. He even said hi when she went back there, and Bix thumped his tail. She asked him if he had made it through the whole day, and he said yes without taking his eyes off his video game.She went to make dinner, happy that Wade was actually there for once. She made one of his favorites, friend chicken in cream gravy, a meal she would never have cooked for herself.

They ate their dinners in separate rooms, with TVs on. Kath hollered from her room that Wade had to write that English paper one One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest. It was late, but she had managed to get an extension for him from his English teacher. Whenever she stopped by the room to make sure he was working, he seemed to be getting things done, despite the TV blaring a wrestling show. Once they passed in the hall, and Kath was reminded of how big Wade had gotten. He almost knocked the pictures down in the narrow space, trying to avoid touching her. She used to worry that he would never reach puberty, that he would be short, that kids made fun of him in school. No one was making fun of him now, she was sure.

Kath climbed onto the sanctuary of her bed and began to read her stockpile of magazines. Since she slept alone, she kept them on the other side of the queen bed. She couldn’t remember the last time Wade had been home on a school night. She was happy, maybe they were finally on the right track.

At 9:30 the phone rang, Kath could see that is was Vince on the caller ID. About two minutes later, Wade called “Can I go over to Vince’s for awhile?”

“Absolutely not. No way. It won’t hurt you to stay home one night.”
“I have sat here doing your shit all night, and you won’t let me go out!”
“No.”

There was a silence. She could hear Wade murmuring “bitch” under his breath. He left the den. Kath strained to hear what he was doing. She could hear a little skateboard being raced on the coffee table in the living room. She heard his phone ring again, and he answered it. Then he shouted back to her.

“Mom, I’m leaving and I don’t care what you say.”

Kath flung down her magazine, shouting “No”, and ran to the front door. He was already outside, and she flung open the door, yelling his name into the darkness. The streetlight was out again. From out of the black came his voice, “Fuck you, I’m going .”
Should she run after him and confront him? Should she get in the car and chase him down?

Biff and Kath stood in the doorway, seeing nothing but the night air, and then Kath slowly closed the door.

She walked back down the hall to her room, where the bed and the soft light from the reading lamp looked so appealing. She got back on the bed, and picked up the magazine.

Kath decided to give up. No more fighting. No more calling the school. No more begging Wade to go to school or not cut or brush his teeth or eat some breakfast. She would go to bed at ten, and not wait for him to come home. If he wanted to fail, he could fail. it was his life, after all. He could always take the GED later. Lots of people dropped out; it didn’t mean his life was over. Kath argued with herself until she finally fell asleep with the light on.

She woke with a start. She grabbed the clock and saw that it was 2:20 a.m. Wade wasn’t home. She got up and went into his room to make sure; no one was in the bed. She called him on his cell. His phone must be off, there was no answer. She left a message anyway.

How long until you call the police? Was it 24 hours? That probably wasn’t for missing teenagers. Kath had no idea what he was wearing, she couldn’t remember. Black sweatshirt, but which hat? Did she have a recent picture.

She sat on the edge of her bed, feeling a trickle of swear run down her side. In five more minutes, she would call the police.
The phone rang, and it was Wade on the caller ID. His voice was distant and strange, muddy.
“Mom, can you come get me? I’m sick.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at Rob’s. I’m really sick. Come get me.” Wade must have dropped the phone, because there was a muffled sound and then nothing. It didn’t even sound like Wade.

Kath put the jeans and shirt she had tossed by the side of the bed back on. With shaking hands, she managed to pop in her contacts. He sounded weird. Was he okay? She found her keys and her wallet without the usual hassle. Bix came out of Wade’s room, sleepily wagging his tail. Kath went out, fearing raccoons lurking by the car, and turned on the radio to keep from panicking. It was the BBC World Report.

When she got to Rob’s, there were a couple of kids hanging around outside, and they shut up the minute she got out of her car.

“Uh, is Wade here?”
“Yeah, he’s in the back.”
“Can I go back and get him?”
“Uh, maybe you better let me. I’m Rob. I’ll go get him.” Rob nudged his friend to help him, and Kath felt her heart drop more. Did they have to carry him out? The other kids drifted away, and she was left alone by her car. The moon was half-full, and the night clear.

She clutched her key.
Wade came out, supported by the two boys. He was very pale, and his eyes were half closed. He didn’t look like he could walk by himself, he kept stumbling over his feet.

“What did he take?”

“We think it was just rum, but he was chugging it. We told him not too, but he did it anyway. “

Kath had no idea how Wade could have called. He was heaving, and the boys had to drag him to the car.
“Better roll down the window, I think he’s going to hurl again.” said the taller boy.

Together,they pushed Wade into the passenger seat, and shut the door.

“Hey, sorry this happened at my house. We told him not to,” Rob told her
“That’s okay, these things happen.” Kath looked back at the house, and saw some kids laughing. She jumped in the car.
Wade’s head was lolling back, but before Kath got to the stop sigh, he threw up all over the car door. Kath had no idea how she would get him in the house, she wasn’t strong enough to pull him out herself.

What if it wasn’t just drinking? Or what if he had alcohol poisoning? She drove through the empty suburban streets, disturbed by Wade’s ragged breathing and vomiting. Then he seemed to be asleep, and she pulled into their driveway and switched off the engine. He was snoring, and it sounded like he was breathing in liquid.

She looked over at Wade, thinking how lucky it was he hadn’t inherited her bumpy, long nose. He looked beatific, with his long lashes against his cheeks; almost like the child he had recently been. His skin had never broken out, and had an ivory sheen that glistened in the streetlight glow.

She had never tired of looking at him when he was little, from the time he fell asleep in her arms nursing all through the school years. Then he started to chafe under her stare and she learned to sneak glances instead. His frame filled the seat, and his knees looked huge and looming, up to the dashboard.His hands were big, laying uselessly in his lap.

Kath used to sit with him in the car like this when he feel asleep in his car seat. She carried books, so that she would always have something to read when he conked out like this. In those days she didn’t dare risk moving him, unbuckling the little belt and trying to get him into the house without him waking up.

Should she sit in the car with him to make sure he was okay? What if he had taken ecstasy or something? She shook his shoulder, and his eyes opened for a second. Even in the dim light, she could see that his eyes were a beautiful blue. But he didn’t seem to see her, and rolled them shut again. He made another snoring sound, and turned his head from her, slumping against the car door.

He was just a teenager sleeping off whatever he had taken. He wasn’t a sweet toddler in a car seat anymore. He didn’t need Kath. Kath got out of the car and went in the house. She was going back to bed. This was no way to live. And tomorrow she would start looking for a new job too. She opened the door to step into the house, and looked back at Wade in the station wagon. What if he was toxic? What if he turned clammy and blue? Maybe it wasn’t safe to leave him alone.