Gorgeous, Sturdy, Shaky
Benefits and Dangers of the Sun
Maybe it was the house’s fault.
The house his mother called gorgeous and his father called sturdy.
It was the only brick dwelling on the block, one of three left on the south side of the street.
Ivan Pelletier had just learned his north from his south when the gorgeous, sturdy brick house blew up.
It wasn’t the house’s fault it blew up, it got caught in the explosion at Durang Chemical next door.
But maybe if the house hadn’t been so gorgeous and sturdy, Ivan Pelletier’s grandparents might have sold when the chemical company tried to buy it. But they didn’t.
If you’ve ever seen Ivan, there’s a strong chance you don’t call him Ivan.
You might call him Trembling Tommy, or just the Trembler, or The Shiverer.
He was on his first sleepover when the gorgeous, sturdy brick house exploded.
Ivan dealt with the loss of his parents and grandma better than most, according to the counselors and psychiatrists who kept their eye on the cute little boy with the Quebecois accent, living in foster care in Detroit, where his parents moved to live in the gorgeous, sturdy house, with his father’s mother.
His father commuted to a job, and would nudge Ivan and tell him “One day you will get a job at Durang. You will work next door, and come home for lunch.”
Ivan didn’t know what he wanted to be, like most kids it changed month to month.
But he paid attention in school, wanting to be something good to make his late father and mother and grandmother proud.
He walked to school from his foster home, looking at the squirrels, and trees, and the sun, and quietly accepted that things still lived,even if his whole family did not.
The sun was a large orange ball in the sky, nothing more, until one day Ms. Rambeau told the class the sun was made up of a burning mass of chemicals, hydrogen and helium, a little nickel, some sulfur…
Some people see Trembling Tommy, parents of kids the same age as Ivan when an explosion took his parents, and they explain to those kids about Parkinson’s disease.
The kids get a good lesson, but that’s not what’s wrong with Ivan Pelletier.
Ivan couldn’t process that the pretty thing in the sky could explode.
That pretty thing that hung above the playground was what took his family from him.
And when Ivan began to tremble at the terrible thought, his friends in school told him how silly that was.
“The sun won’t explode, Ivan.”
“Ms. Rambeau, tell Ivan that the sun won’t explode.”
“Well, technically,” Mrs. Rambeau began. Mrs Rambeau would go on to tell the truth as she knew it, that one day our sun would, for all intents and purposes, explode.
The earth, the gorgeous, sturdy earth would be no more.
Ivan couldn’t comprehend billions of years.
He thought he would have his parents and grandmother forever.
And they were gone.
Ivan’s ability to speak English was gone. All the bad things he ever heard were in English, so he retreated into French.
And trembled at the sight of the Sun.
***
Elliot Pilgren returned from a Vail ski trip, tan and ready to tackle his job.
One file in particular bothered him.
Ivan Pelletier.
Tremors.
Inability to communicate.
Trauma associated with a chemical explosion at 344 Nettigrew, domicile to the east of 320 Nettigrew, former home of Durang Chemical.
The sun was shining through Elliot’s office window. He skewed his laptop to see the screen better, and began to type.
Virginia,
I’d like an evaluation of the Pelletier, I. case. 77215. All occupants of both buildings were pronounced dead at the scene, 02/13/1977.
Yet Pelletier has been collecting Tier 1 benefits based on this incident since 05/27/1977.
Thanks,
EP
Elliot hit send and stood to lower the blinds in his office.
He cleared three more routine files himself.
77215 still bothered him.
He looked in the mirror next to his lacquered wood diplomas.
Thought his tan made him look ten years younger.
Sat down, grabbed his phone, texted Virginia Minski.
Ginny, just emailed you. Let’s get 77215/Pelletier off the books now and grab some lunch.
Paying out people like Pelletier is the kind of institutional bungling that makes me shake
***
this goes down as a new favorite jimmy.
the empathy you have for others in the life you live shines through here.
Isn’t it funny how perception is skewed by our own surpluses and deficits sometimes? I’m in awe of your dedication to writing. Jimmy, no matter how hard I tried, I know I could not accomplish what you’ve accomplished here. It’s a big deal.