The History of Great Things Read Online Free Page B

cigarettes smell bad. What’s that smell? I don’t know. What’s that smell? I don’t know. What’s that other smell? I don’t know. Why is everything so smelly? Why is there writing on everything? Is it okay to write on things here? I thought it wasn’t okay to write on things. What are those people doing? What are those people doing?
    Your reserve of questions is endless, and eventually I give up and tell you I don’t know everything, which happens on the first day of first grade. On the walk to school, you say Daddy knows everything, let’s ask Daddy , at which time I say We’ll talk about it after school , and you look up at your new school, whichdoes not look like your old school, it looks to be covered in a hundred years of filth, dark and dirty and massive, like if you go in you will very obviously not come out, it looks like a big giant haunted house from a scary movie, not like your kindergarten in Louisiana, which was painted white and had a flower garden in front. Where are the flowers? Well, there might not be flowers at this school. Where is the playground? It’s right here, honey , I say, pointing to some girls doing double dutch . That’s an alley, Mommy, that’s not a playground , but it is a playground, it’s clearly connected to the school, and even if it is a crummy one, it’s definitely a playground, and you pull on me, trying to go back toward home, away from the doors of the school, you say I don’t want to go to this school , and I say You don’t get to pick, this is your school, come on, it’ll be great, you love school , and you say No, I don’t, this school looks like jail . You start crying for your father, Where’s Daddy, where’s Daddy, I want Daddy, I want Daddy , ceaselessly loud, gulping, inconsolable crying for your father. Daddy lives in Iowa now. What? Whyyyy? Remember, we told you before we came here, Daddy and Mommy don’t live together anymore? No you didn’t tell me that! Yes, honey, we did, you and I live here now, it’s your first day of school! No! I don’t remember anything! Sweetheart, you’ll make new friends, you’ll learn all kinds of new things. No! I don’t want new friends! I want Daddy! Come on, remember how much you love school? No! I don’t! I only love Daddy! I want to go back! I want Daddy! I remind you, again, that we explained about where Daddy was, and that you’d see him as soon as he sent us money. We don’t have money? Not enough. Why won’t he send it? He says he doesn’t have any more to send, but that isn’t true, his parents have plenty. Why won’t they send it? Because your grandmother isn’t a very nice person and she hates me, now come on, honey, let me walk you to your cubby. Noooo! It’s all I can do to get you to take off your jacket and hang it up. Honey,you have to stop crying. I can’t! I will never stop crying! You cry when the teacher gently takes your hand. Don’t goooo! It is reported to me later that you have cried all day. We go through this the next day and the next day, until I become sure you’ll never stop, and you don’t stop until around Thanksgiving, I suspect mostly because you’re finally exhausted.
    Around this time, a girl in your class named Alex says hi when you get placed in a special group of kids who can already read. Another girl named Liz is also in this group, and the three of you become fast friends, having playdates at each other’s houses. We don’t do this at our house often. Because why? Because I can’t deal with it. That’s just the truth. I can handle one friend over at a time, if you play quietly in your room. So you go to the other girl’s houses, where you’re free to get more rambunctious (though you’re not what I’d call rambunctious anyway), where there are siblings, where there are toys and games and snacks other than