Ant Farm Read online

  LIFE IN THE USA

  By Bojidar

  Of all the boys in the United States, Simon is the most popular. Simon is especially very popular with the girls at his school. I am very lucky that I was assigned the pen pal Simon, because it turns out that he is a very important American!

  To the American girls, Simon is like a matador. They carry around in their pockets pictures of his face, and they trade the pictures to each other like they are currency. Rebecca, the most beautiful girl in America, wants to be his girlfriend but she does not say anything to him about it because she is afraid he will say no. The girls are impressed with Simon because (1) he does very well at all the videogames, and (2) he knows all the facts about the planets in outer space.

  The cool things to wear in America are sweatpants, hand-me-down T-shirts, and big braces on your mouth and head. Another cool thing is to wear Velcro shoes. Here is a photograph of my pen pal. The average height for a thirteen-year-old boy in the United States is four feet five inches tall. So although he is small by the Bulgarian standard, in the United States, Simon is a boy of average size.

  In the United States, a normal thing for boys is to go to a speech doctor every day after school to learn how to make the l, s, r, and t sounds. This is not something that is weird in the United States.

  In the United States, a cool thing is to listen to songs from the Disney movies, such as Aladdin, Small Mermaid, and Beauty and Beast. Here is an example about that: One time my pen pal was listening to a tape of Disney songs on a Walkman machine, and Trevor, the leader of the lacrosse team, opened the machine and saw that the tape inside was Small Mermaid. There were a lot of girls from the school standing near them also. When Trevor looked at the tape, he said something like “That is a normal thing for a boy to be listening to, you are a cool guy.” Then Trevor and the girls came over to Simon’s house and they all listened to the Disney songs together and became friends. That is how things work in America.

  a fantasy i had in seventh grade

  Dear seventh graders,

  Congratulations to all of the students who passed the Presidential Fitness Test! In three weeks, you will be engaged in warfare with the enemies of the United States.

  I’d like to give special kudos to football co-captains Lance and Trevor, who both scored above the 90th percentile. You’ll be going directly to the front lines.

  Unfortunately, those of you who scored beneath the 35th percentile will not be allowed to participate in this war. You will, however, get to help out with strategizing—i.e., deciding which soldiers go on the most dangerous missions.

  Also, I have been informed that while some of you lack athletic ability, you are very talented at computer simulation games. I cannot tell you how highly these skills are prized in today’s modern army. Next week, we will be having a Presidential Videogame Fitness Test. Anyone who scores higher than 7,000 points on Crystal Quest will be given control of the entire Western Front. Anyone who scores higher than 8,000 points will become President.

  Good luck to you all,

  The President

  inside the cartridge

  Street Fighting Man, copyright © 1987 by Nintendo

  Scene: Jump Kick Boulevard

  —How many dead?

  —Fifty.

  —Christ. Exactly the same as yesterday. How’s morale?

  —Terrible. It’s like we’re not even trying out there. We don’t stand a chance against … well … you know.

  —(shuddering) He-Who-Is-Dressed-Differently.

  —He’s immortal, and I’ll swear to that. Today he stopped in midstride and began to punch the air. Five of our brothers walked directly into his moving fist. One by one, they fell to the ground and vanished.

  —There is no God.

  —Every day he defeats us in the exact same sequence, using the exact same maneuvers.

  —And that music. It never stops!

  —The same sixteen notes, over and over again, droning and endless, piercing through the darkened void. (hushed) Sometimes he brings a companion to help him with his murders.

  —Their blows hurt us but not each other!

  —It is as if God has chosen us alone for misery.

  —(sobbing) Why does he rush through our town so quickly?

  —I believe he’s going for a record of some kind. It has to do with points.

  —Sweet Lord!

  —It’s not enough for him to simply take our lives. He must also take our honor.

  —You would think by now he would have grown tired of this battle. Surely the challenge is gone!

  —And yet the genocide continues.

  —Was it always like this, brother?

  —I do not know.

  (Time pauses without warning for three and a half

  minutes, then resumes seamlessly.)

  —Hold me, brother, I’m frightened!

  —(punches him in the face) I’m sorry. That seems to be the only action I’m capable of.

  —I only have two hits left.

  THE END

  rebellion

  Unfortunately, I started rebelling against my parents at around the same time I developed body odor.

  —Son, I strongly suggest that you start wearing deodorant.

  —Fuck you, Dad. I’ve got bigger plans.

  —Please, son, I’m not the only one who feels strongly about this. Your teachers sent me a letter by messenger. It was signed by some of your classmates.

  —Give the Man whatever he wants, right, Dad? Always obey the Man. That’s your great philosophy of life.

  —Yes, that’s fine, son. Listen. It’s really bad. The smell is really bad.

  —Hey, Dad, guess what? I’m not going to synagogue anymore.

  —Okay … Please, son, I bought you these different kinds of deodorant. If you don’t like any of them, I’ll go back to the store and buy you more kinds. Hey, here’s a cool one. It’s for athletes.

  —I’m moving out! I’m going to live under the overpass! Some of those people fought in wars, Dad. You didn’t fight in any wars.

  —Okay, that’s… All that’s fine. Please put this on, son. You … you carry my name.

  what goes through my mind when i’m home alone (from my mom’s perspective)

  Hmm, Mom left me home alone. Better go through the medicine cabinet and drink all the medicine for no reason. Wait, what’s this? A note telling me not to “drink any medicines”? Thank God! I was about to do that. I was about to drink all the medicines and kill myself because I’m retarded.

  Well, I better use the stove and then not turn it off. That way, I’ll burn down the house and kill myself. Wait a minute. There’s a note that says I should “turn off the stove after using it.” Jesus Christ, that never would have occurred to me! Mom saved my life again, twice in one night.

  Well, better throw things out the window, something I haven’t done since I was seven. I’m fifteen years old, but I haven’t matured at all. I still need to be reminded constantly about how to get through the day. What? A note? Guess I shouldn’t “throw objects out the window” after all. There go my big plans.

  Ah … dinnertime. There’s a Tupperware container full of pasta in the fridge, but it’s cold! How will I ever heat it up? I guess I’ll just starve and die because I’m not competent enough to warm pasta. Whoa! A note telling me to put the container in the microwave and press EASY MINUTE! Thanks, note! You saved my life.

  I hope that when my mom comes home she asks me some very specific, humiliating questions about my changing body.

  ————————————————

  i can only think of two scenarios

  where high school math

  would come in handy

  1

  MURDERER: I’m a crazy person. Do this trigonometry problem or I’ll murder you.

  ME: Can I use a graphing calculator?

  MURDERER: Yes, of course. Oh—and here’s a list of necessary formulas.

  ME: Great, thanks. Oka
y, let’s see …sin2x = 2cosXsinX?

  MURDERER: That’s correct. You’re free to go.

  2

  OLD RICH MAN: Hello, everyone. I’ve gone completely insane. Whoever solves this trigonometry problem fastest gets all of the money in my will.

  ME: Can we use graphing calculators?

  OLD RICH MAN: Yes—and the necessary formulas are on the second page.

  ME: Cool. Is it t = 50?

  OLD RICH MAN: I need it expressed to me in radians.

  ME: t = 0.28?

  OLD RICH MAN: Congratulations, here is all my money.

  slumber party

  SEYMOUR: What do you guys want to do?

  ZACH: Let’s find your dad’s liquor and drink it!

  SEYMOUR: Cool! The only thing is: I don’t know where the old man keeps his booze.

  DAN: Well, let’s split up and look for it! There are six of us. One of us is bound to find it.

  SEYMOUR: Awesome, let’s do it!

  (Five minutes later.)

  ZACH: I found it! It was in the first place I looked!

  DAN: Really? I found some too.

  MIKE: Me too. Look.

  KEVIN: I … I also found some alcohol.

  SEYMOUR: Everyone found alcohol? I don’t understand. Where did you guys look?

  ZACH: Under your dad’s bed.

  DAN: In your dad’s medicine cabinet.

  JOSH: Behind your dad’s toilet.

  KEVIN: A few different closets. And in your little sister’s room … behind her community service trophies.

  JAKE: I found a moonshine still in the basement. It looked pretty advanced. There were bags of barley and pressurized tanks. And there was some kind of silver tasting cup, hanging from a hook.

  SEYMOUR: I can’t believe this. I think I have to be alone for a while.

  BRENT: (running in) Hey, Seymour! Guys! Guess what, I found the booze! You’ll never guess where it was—in the attic inside an old box marked “Memories.”

  SEYMOUR: …

  BRENT: There was a lot up there.

  role playing

  TEACHER: All right, class, today we’re going to be learning about the political landscape that led to the Civil War. Let’s start with a little role-playing exercise. First we need someone to play the part of a Southern slave owner. Okay, let’s say … Seymour.

  SEYMOUR: What?

  TEACHER: Great. Now we need someone to play a Northern abolitionist. Raise your hand if you want to volunteer. Okay—I guess that’s everybody else. Let’s begin.

  SOPHIE: How many innocent people must die to satisfy your greed, Seymour?

  KAREN: You’re a monster, Seymour. (crying) A monster.

  SEYMOUR: What’s happening? I’m against slavery—I swear!

  TEACHER: I don’t think that’s something a slave owner would say, Seymour. Remember, you’re being graded on this.

  SEYMOUR: Um … then, I guess … slavery … is good?

  TEACHER: Of all the villains in the history of this nation, you, Seymour, are by far the most terrifying. I can’t even look you in the face. You literally make my skin crawl.

  SEYMOUR: I thought you said it was a role-playing exercise?

  TEACHER: I’m also doing the exercise. I’m an abolitionist.

  sex ed

  MR. BENDER: Okay class, now it’s time to read one of your anonymous sex questions out loud. Here’s one …

  JONATHAN: Hey, Seymour, did you write that one? That looks like your handwriting.

  SEYMOUR: Mr. Bender! Don’t read it!

  MR. BENDER: Please, no talking. It’s very important that I answer this question. Whoever asked it is obviously incredibly confused about sex. These are not normal concerns. Not even close.

  SETH: Hey, I bet that’s Seymour’s question. It’s written in blue ink like all his homework assignments.

  SEYMOUR: Oh, no!

  MR. BENDER: Okay, let’s see … it’s a seven-part question. The first part is about testicles.

  SEYMOUR: Oh my God!

  MR. BENDER: Quiet, class. We have to be fair to the boy who wrote this, even if we find his sexual desires morally reprehensible.

  JONATHAN: Hey, I think that’s Seymour’s stationery. I can tell because of the watermark.

  MR. BENDER: All right. I’m going to read the question now. But I have to warn you: It’s pretty hard to take. If you feel like screaming, that’s understandable. I’m probably going to do some screaming myself. It’s that extreme.

  (Bell rings.)

  SEYMOUR: That’s the bell! Class dismissed!

  MR. BENDER: Stay in your seats, everyone. If I don’t answer this student’s question and he continues to masturbate in the aberrant fashion he describes in part 3, he could permanently damage his body. Okay … here it goes … Jesus Christ, I can’t read this out loud, it’s too humiliating. Can I have a volunteer?

  SEYMOUR: I’ll read it!

  MR. BENDER: Here you go.

  SEYMOUR: Great! Um … okay … it says … What do you do if you are a … normal boy … with no really weird things.

  ouija board

  Oh, thank God … Five young conjurers are trying to communicate with me. Now I can finally reveal the identity of my killer!

  Is there a spirit present?

  Yes!

  (Giggling.)

  Girls, listen to me. My name is Craig Swieskowski. I was murdered by a man named Bruce Kobza.

  Does Trevor like Janet?

  What? How should I know? Listen, Bruce Kobza poisoned me to death! There’s a video recording of the murder in a locked briefcase in his apartment. You need to break into his bedroom, unlock the briefcase and show the tape to the police!

  Y … E … S! (Hysterical laughter.) Trevor likes you, Janet!

  Okay … that’s … that’s fine. I’m glad we got that out of our system. But now it’s time to get serious. We might not have another chance to talk like this. I need you girls to go to Mt. Sinai Cemetery and dig up my body. Do an autopsy. You’ll find—

  Who likes Sophie?

  Jesus, it’s like you’re not even listening to me! Bruce Kobza murdered me! (sighing) Okay … fine, I’ll try to use the damn board. B …

  B!

  R …

  R! Hey, he’s spelling out Brian Pasternak! Brian Pasternak likes Sophie!

  No!

  Spirit? Are we pretty? Or … do we need to lose a little bit of weight?

  You don’t need to lose any weight. … You should all be thankful you’re alive and healthy.

  L-O-S-E W-E-I-G-H-T. Guess we’ll have to keep dieting, huh?

  What? That’s not what I said at all! (Sighs.) It doesn’t matter.

  ————————

  my mom’s all-time

  top five greatest boyfriends

  By Milo Farber, age 11

  5. JARED MILLER

  This guy was awesome! He’s by far the strongest, biggest dude I’ve ever met. But that’s not all—he also plays for the Fort Wayne Warriors, my favorite minor-league hockey team! My mom dated Jared for a few days last summer, and every time he came to the house he gave me a regulation Fort Wayne Warriors hockey puck. By the end I had five pucks! Once I ran into him in the kitchenette in the middle of the night. He was making a sandwich. I couldn’t believe there was a real hockey player in my house. I wanted to say something, but I was too nervous so I just stood there. Then after a while he looked at me and said, “Hey, little buddy. How’s your skating?” And I said, “Fine!”

  4. OLAF SEIDENBERG

  Olaf wasn’t as strong as Jared, but he was just as cool because he also played hockey for the Fort Wayne Warriors! He only dated my mom once, so I only had one chance to talk to him. Still, it was pretty awesome. It was in the middle of the night. I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the kitchenette and there he was, Olaf Seidenberg, in my house! I asked him to sign my regulation pucks and he said he would. He couldn’t believe I had so many pucks! “Wow, kid,” he said, “you’re a real fan.” He autographed all five of
them and wrote “16” next to his name, which is his number!

  3. MARTIN PAVLOVSKY

  This guy also played hockey for the Fort Wayne Warriors! He had four goals and two assists in 2006-2007, which isn’t great but it was only his first year. When I asked him to sign my regulation Fort Wayne Warriors pucks next to Olaf’s signature, he made a weird scrunched-up face and stared at my mother for a while, like he was confused. I guess he doesn’t understand a lot of English because he’s from the Czech Republic.

  2. BILL PASSMAN

  This guy played for the Fort Wayne Warriors. He was an okay goalie, but he had some bad luck so his save percentage was only .899. I liked him because his name has the word “Pass” in it, which is a hockey word—and he plays hockey. I only saw Bill once, in the kitchenette. I couldn’t believe there was a real hockey player in my house! So I ran into my bedroom and grabbed the old cigar box I use to hold my pucks. When I came back with the box, my mother kept saying that I should go to bed. “Not now, Milo,” she started shouting. “Please!” She can be really strict. Anyway, I could tell Bill wanted to see what was in the box so I opened it. “Wow,” he said, “you must be my number one fan!” I gave him a puck and told him to sign it next to Olaf’s and Nicolas’s signatures. (Nicolas was another one of my mom’s boyfriends, but he didn’t make the top five.) At first he looked a little confused. He said something under his breath, and I was scared he wasn’t going to sign my pucks at all. But then he took out a pen and signed all of them! It was weird, because he didn’t look at the pucks when he signed them. Instead, the whole time he was staring at my mother. His signature was pretty cool—better than Nicolas’s but not as good as Olaf’s.