Practice (Continued), (Ezzy's Education, Part 18), By Garrett Murch
At the Jeep they changed out of their waders, packed their gear, and began the forty-five- minute drive home. Link asked her why she had him wear waders if he was only going to stand on a dock, and Ezzy said he needed practice getting in and out of them. Several minutes into the ride back to Ebbing, in the dim light, they passed a giant, old brick chimney next to a structure overgrown with shrubs and small trees.
“So why do you think Trunk and Lucinda are so messed up?” Link asked. He had wanted to ask this all afternoon.
“I’m sure there’s more to it, but I do have a theory.”
Link, surprised by her quick response, asked, “What’s your theory?”
“My theory—well, it’s not fully developed—but one thing Trunk and Lucinda have in common, in addition to being intolerable, is they both grew up without a positive male role model at home.”
“Whoa. You’ll get in trouble saying something like that!”
“Think about it. Trunk’s father is a raging alcoholic. I heard he even shows up to the football games drunk.”
“He does,” Link said. “It’s pretty bad.”
“It’s terrible. And Lucinda, she doesn’t even have a father. He abandoned her when she was seven. Her mother, correctly, got rid of him when he had an affair.”
“How do you know that?”
“She told me once in junior high. I’ve never heard her mention it since. And so, since Lucinda was in second grade she has only had her mother, this professor who I guess thinks her daughter will be the savior of our terrible country. Did you know Lucinda said America today — today! — is as bad as apartheid was?”
“You’ve studied apartheid?” Link asked. It was nearly dark and on the westward hills to their right, the conifers looked black and the scattered fluffy clouds a dark, bluish purple overlaying pastel peach sky.
“I started studying some history on my own once I realized how little we’re taught in school,” Ezzy said.
“I’ve been doing that, too. Our country did some horrible things in the past and we’re far from perfect today, but we’re far better than what some of our teachers say.”
“I don’t think Lucinda knows what real oppression is. I wonder if she even knows the truth about dictators around the globe. I’ve read about Lenin, Mao, Castro, Hugo Chavez. Those dictators all claimed they were going to achieve some sort of social justice with their power. None of them did. Instead, they oppressed their people. It’s like these promises can only be kept through oppression, and even then they never seem to get kept.”
Who is this girl? I thought she was only into science. “They killed their people, too,” Link said. “Lucinda doesn’t seem to get the irony she sounds just like them. But how is that connected to not having a father?”
“Maybe it’s not. I’m not sure. I do believe having a decent father would have helped her. I know it would have. No reasonable person acts like Lucinda. Something is so out of balance with her and her obsessions. Same with Trunk and being great. Or saying he’s great, I mean.”
“They’re both out of touch, that’s for sure.”
“Sometimes I wonder,” Ezzy said, “if I’m the one who’s out of touch, since no one at school ever says things like I just said.” She hit the brakes as they approached a large bull moose standing on the side of the road. The moose watched them slowly drive by with his enormous, somber eyes.
“That’s a big moose!” Link said.
Accelerating the Jeep, Ezzy said, “Yeah, he’s beautiful.”
When they were rolling along at fifty miles per hour again, Ezzy said, “So yes, I agree Lucinda and Trunk are out of touch. I also think they’re two of the most disadvantaged kids at our school. I know what a big advantage my parents have been for me. I mean, I’m Latina and, well, I think having positive role models at home—and outside of home, too, but particularly at home—is a huge advantage for kids. Lucinda would never admit it because it doesn’t fit into her program that seems to define everyone based on their skin color, gender, and sexuality.”
“So you’re saying she ignores one of the biggest advantages or disadvantages?”
“She completely ignores it,” Ezzy said. “Sometimes she mentions middle class but that’s not the same thing as having a stable family. The teachers who talk like Lucinda ignore it, too. Although I suspect the teachers who don’t talk that way are not fans of the Lucinda way of looking at people, and most of the teachers don’t talk like her. Who knows, though. They never say anything about it.”
That’s deep. Link looked at the reflective white line marking the side of the road as they sped ahead with trees flying by like phantoms in the dark.
Ezzy continued. “All I’m saying is this whole intersectionality thing getting preached at us doesn’t make sense to me. I mean, there are countless so-called intersections, but we get told to only focus on a few of them. If we counted all the converging disadvantages as intersections, we’d have a road map that hardly anyone could follow.”
“Everyone would get lost,” Link said.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” Ezzy said. “I do know I can’t stand how the Lucinda approach makes me think about myself and other people, and how it makes me think I should treat other people based on this or that identity they have. It’s, well, painful doing that.”
Link remained silent.
“Anyway,” Ezzy said. “If you ignore a huge factor you end up giving too much weight to the other factors. It’s sort of that simple. I can’t help but believe poverty and disadvantage would shrink as the number of good fathers grew—and stable families, too. I don’t know if it could be proven by a scientific formula, but it has to be true.”
“But if that happened and you’re right, then why would we need Lucinda?”
“Exactly.” Ezzy made a small smile before saying, “More good dads wouldn’t solve everything, though.”
Okay, now she’s pivoting. “What do you mean?”
“There’s still discrimination against certain people. Including me, although it’s been rare. Lucinda’s not wrong about that, she’s just obsessed with it. And she often says it’s causing things it isn’t to blame for. Sometimes, she’s like a doctor recommending a heart transplant to someone with liver failure.”
“Interesting analogy.”
“But you know what, Link?” Ezzy flashed her Jeep’s high beams at the oncoming vehicle that had not turned off its own.
“What’s that?”
“A lot of men do need to pick up their game. Lucinda’s not wrong about that. And there is toxic masculinity. It’s just far less common than Lucinda would have us believe. Problem is, I don’t think she wants boys, men, whatever you want to call them, to pick up their game. It’s like she just hates them and wants them to rail against to make herself look like a hero.”
“I could tell there was something mean about her when I first got to Ebbing two years ago,” Link said.
“She’s not a person we want in charge of anything.”
“You really should get into politics,” Link said.
“No. It’s pointless.”
“You’re not out of touch, Ezzy.”
“I was wondering what you thought about that,” Ezzy said.
“I’m going to write you in as my vote for president.”
“Do what you want; I’m only your boss when we’re fishing.”
“You’re a pretty good teacher.”
“Want to join me and my dad at camp this weekend?”
Zing! Link’s heart screamed like a fly reel trying to slow an unstoppable trophy trout. He had trouble breathing. After a moment he replied, “I think I can. Are you sure? Wouldn’t I be a drag on you and your dad?”
“You don’t seem like a total lost cause.”
“Gee, thanks.” Maybe we’ll be on a river this time!