“Well good for you, Window. I am sorry I said that. Please accept my humble apology.”

“And no more special ed jokes!” Window said.

“I’m going to shut my mouth,” Page said.

The head custodian said, “Window has become a man. He’s making inroads. Now let’s go scrub that lower hall.” It was Christmas break and the custodians were all working the day shift. The school was quiet and they had taken an hour-long break, which was now becoming oppressively long.

Window said, “I’m tired of being the mop jockey.”

“Window runs the scrubber,” Page said. “I’ll sling the mops.”

The custodial crew set out the yellow caution signs in the lower hallway and without a word, each picked out a task. One laid down the stripper solution. Another took the doodlebug and began edging the sides of the hall. Yet another set up the wet vac while Window plugged in the scrubber, looked to his left and right to see that everyone was in position and then squeezed the power trigger. The black stripping pad was dry, causing the scrubber to lurch violently for a few seconds. Window had to muscle the big machine until it picked up enough water and then began to sing as it glided effortlessly over the scuffed tile. When Ray turned on a country/western station on the radio, Window said, “Turn off that hillbilly shit and play some rock and roll.” As the designated operator of the scrubber, Window had that right since at East High, the designated operator of the scrubber was janitor king of the day.

Mosquitoes

I GUESS THE​ REASON I can’t relate to Clendon:…he almost cracked up getting his Ph.D., got weird, and took off to Vermont, bought a Volvo, and married this cool slim blonde with long legs, nine thousand dollars’ worth of capped teeth and a heart colder than the dark side of the moon. Victoria. Spoiled single child, rich and indulged. Sarah Lawrence degree in art history. Clothes are DKNY. She drives a BMW and Clendon worships her and all the time I was there I saw her make him squirm and humiliate him. I’m thinking he’s getting some kind of masochistic thrill out of this. There was something in that that has estranged us as brothers and has made us like Cain and Abel. I mean, I can’t identify with somebody who won’t fight back. I can’t work up any sympathy for him.

“The kids,” he says. “You have to think of the kids.”

Or: “A divorce would leave a psychic scar.”

Clendon teaches at Middlebury College in Vermont. Middlebury is really a beautiful place but it’s that old bullshit: Greenpeace. You know, I don’t want to overgeneralize but it’s a style I find hard to take. They really let you have it up there. Throw it right in your face. Self-righteous do-gooders. I mean, I think we ought to save the dolphins, too. Torpedo those Japanese fishing boats if they don’t lay off! But spare me the folksingers!