Contents ( 42)
- The Art of Breathing
- Part One: How We Became Who We Are
- Prologue: Or, Where the Kid Hears the Word of the Day
- 1. Where Tyson Learns to Breathe
- 2. Where Tyson Makes a Phone Call
- 3. Where Tyson Graduates and Bear Freaks Out
- 4. Where Tyson Says Good-Bye
- 5. Where Tyson Gets the Mail
- Part Two: Coming Home
- 6. Where Tyson Comes Home
- 7. Where Tyson Gives a History Lesson
- 8. Where Tyson Attends the Most Awkward Party Ever
- 9. Where Tyson Plans Attends a Protest
- 10. Where Tyson Gets Arrested
- 11. Where Tyson Gets His Ass Handed to Him
- 12. Where Tyson Writes Bad Poetry and Gawks at Frat Boys
- 13. Where Tyson Decides to Man the Fuck Up
- 14. Where Tyson Asks Some Questions
- 15. Where Tyson Remembers Theresa Jean Paquinn
- 16. Where Tyson Learns the Benefit of Therapy
- 17. Where Tyson Meets the Man Who Becomes Helena Handbasket
- 18. Where Tyson Gets Screwed at His Own Birthday Party (And Not in a Good Way)
- Part Three: Just Breathe
- 19. Where Tyson Goes to Helena Handbasket’s Sex Dungeon
- 20. Where Tyson Beholds the Awesome Wonder That Is Paul Auster
- 21. Where Tyson Receives Advice from the Six Sages
- 22. Where Tyson Makes a Phone Call
- 23. Where Tyson Hears the Inevitable
- 24. Where Tyson Meets His Match
- 25. Where Tyson Says Hello, Where Tyson Says Good-bye
- 26. Where Tyson Touches upon the Inevitable
- 27. Where Tyson Faces the Music
- 28. Where Tyson Breathes
- 29. Tyson And Dominic
- 30. The Art Of Breathing
- Epilogue: Or, Bear’s Perspective, As It Were (Yeah, He’s Gonna Freak)
- Author’s Note
- Excerpt
- Prologue: Or, Where Bear Answers the Door
- More from TJ Klune
- Readers love the Bear, Otter, and the Kid Chronicles by TJ Klune
- By TJ Klune
“Tyson?” she asks me, an edge coming in to her perky TV voice. You better start fucking talking right now, you vegetarian nightmare goes unsaid. She’s very good at the subtle context, this Ms. Rhine is.
“Yes?” I reply, and my voice is so deep now it sounds like I’m grunting at her. I have so much stress sweat, I’m pretty sure it looks like I just climbed out of a swimming pool.
“What is going on today that you’re protesting BJ’s? What do you hope will happen?”
The beach hippies began to chant something different: “DON’T GIVE US NO JIVE! WE KNOW YOU’RE SKINNING THEM ALIVE!”
“Exactly that,” I say, trying to regain control. “BJ’s and their corporate owners are notorious for their horrifying slaughter practices, so much so that they’ve been fined repeatedly and have been almost forced to shut down on several occasions. They also created a despicable and unsafe work environment for the employees.” Good, that was good.
Katie nods as if that was the most interesting thing she’s ever heard anyone say ever anywhere. “And what exactly happens in these meat and sweatshops?”
Sweat. Stress sweat. Oh my God, that commercial is so fucking funny. I bark out a weird hiccup thing of laughter and sweat drips into my eye, forcing me to blink it away, and I look like I am barking and winking at the camera, and this is going so well, and I am not like Bear. I am not like Bear.
“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to not wink into the camera anymore. “I wasn’t laughing at you or those poor slaughterhouse workers. I was laughing at the deodorant commercial.”
I am exactly like Bear.
“The deodorant commercial?” she asks me, and I see her producer waving at her, mouthing, Abort! Abort!
“It’s… ah. Funny. Stress sweat. That’s why I am sweaty.” I smile at her in an attempt to control the situation. “Don’t grab your boss’s butt, you know?”
“Excuse me?” she asks, and dear God, did she bathe in that perfume?
The chant changes behind us: “DOG AND CAT! MINK AND RABBIT! THEIR FUR IS THEIRS AND NOT FOR JACKETS!”
What does that have to do with hamburgers? I will never use hippies ever again. DEAD! is dead to me!
“They don’t cook dogs and cats,” I say hastily to Katie Rhine. “If that’s what you’re thinking. Or mink. Or rabbits. Well, actually, I think one of the higher-end BJ’s serves rabbit. But I could be mistaken. In that case, it would be true.”
The protest behind us changes again. I don’t think the beach hippies understand the point of chants. “CHINESE FUR TRADE IS FULL OF GREED! WE WON’T TOLERATE YOUR BLOODY DEEDS!”
“The Chinese are involved with this?” Katie asks, her eyes going wide as if she can already picture being handed the Pulitzer. “The Chinese slaughter dogs and rabbits and serve them at BJ’s?”
“No!” I grab the microphone in her hand and pull it to my face. She squawks as I look directly into the camera and grunt, “The Chinese do not kill dogs and rabbits and serve them at BJ’s. That is not what happens.”