Palo Alto: Stories by James Franco

Author:James Franco
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Scribner
Published: 2010-10-19T04:00:00+00:00

Once upon a time there was a giant sea serpent named Cyrus. Even though he was a horrible looking monster he wasn’t the least bit fierce. All he ever did was wander about in the sea with no idea of where he was going.

“I’m tired of wandering,” said Cyrus one day. “I wish there was something more exciting to do. . . .”

Part II

Wasting

Things got bad at the Children’s Library. I started taking the books home without checking them out and then not returning them. Sometimes Fred and I would get high and draw dicks and pussies on the animals in the books and then put them back on the shelves. One time I was in the Secret Garden and I tried to carve APRIL into the bench, but I didn’t finish because one of the librarians came out, so the carving just said APRI, but the R was a little unfinished and the I was really light.

Then one day after school, my mom told me my probation officer wanted me to call her. I called from the kitchen phone while my mom washed vegetables in the sink. As the phone rang I watched my mother with the vegetables and I realized what a small woman she was.

“Hi, Janice,” I said into the phone.

“Teddy, I’m gonna need you to come to my office on Tuesday after school.”

“That’s the day I go to the Children’s Library.”

“You’re not going there anymore and you know it.”

“What do you mean? I love that place,” I said, and my mother looked over.

“Well, you screwed it up,” she said. “I’ll see you at three twenty on Tuesday. Don’t be late, and you better not drive here.”

My mother was holding half a green pepper. She looked so sad. The water ran in the sink.

On Tuesday, during first period auto class, Barry Chambers and Bill and I went out to the train tracks to try some of the weed that Barry had been growing in his backyard, on top of the shed. We walked down the tracks a little and stood near the Bat Cave. No Goth kids or anyone else was around. Barry had the stuff rolled in Saran Wrap. He unrolled it and there were two thick, glistening buds. Barry broke off enough for a bowl and filled his smooth porcelain rainbow pipe. The stuff was strong. When I coughed, Barry said, “See, I got the good shit.” Bill took some and he coughed too.

“How’d you grow that?” said Bill.

“I just ordered the seeds from Amsterdam and followed instructions,” Barry said. Barry was Mormon and cuddly like a sea lion and Bill was half Mexican and dumb.

After we smoked we sat on the rail of the tracks. The graffiti on the cement wall of the Bat Cave looked good. ORFN was up, and MSTK, and REVERS, written backward, and the best was LUST. With my eyes I kept tracing the way the letters flowed into each other. They were so well done I could taste them like chewy candy.

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