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Whale Talk
Whale Talk
Whale Talk
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Whale Talk

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

4/5

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“A truly exceptional book.”—Washington Post

There's bad news and good news about the Cutter High School swim team. The bad news is that they don't have a pool. The good news is that only one of them can swim anyway. Bestselling author Chris Crutcher’s controversial and acclaimed novel follows a group of outcasts as they take on inequality and injustice in their high school.

"Crutcher's superior gifts as a storyteller and his background as a working therapist combine to make magic in Whale Talk. The thread of truth in his fiction reminds us that heroes can come in any shape, color, ability or size, and friendship can bridge nearly any divide.”—Washington Post

T.J. Jones hates the blatant preferential treatment jocks receive at his high school, and the reverence paid to the varsity lettermen. When he sees a member of the wrestling team threatening an underclassman, T.J. decides he’s had enough. He recruits some of the biggest misfits at Cutter High to form a swim team. They may not have very much talent, but the All-Night Mermen prove to be way more than T.J. anticipated. As the unlikely athletes move closer to their goal, these new friends might learn that the journey is worth more than the reward. For fans of Andrew Smith and Marieke Nijkamp.

"Crutcher offers an unusual yet resonant mixture of black comedy and tragedy that lays bare the superficiality of the high-school scene. The book's shocking climax will force readers to re-examine their own values and may cause them to alter their perception of individuals pegged as 'losers.'"—Publishers Weekly

An American Library Association Best Book for Young Adults
New York Public Library Books for the Teen Age

Features a new afterword by Chris Crutcher

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHarperCollins
Release dateSep 22, 2009
ISBN9780061968532
Whale Talk
Author

Chris Crutcher

Chris Crutcher has written nine critically acclaimed novels, an autobiography, and two collections of short stories. Drawing on his experience as a family therapist and child protection specialist, Crutcher writes honestly about real issues facing teenagers today: making it through school, competing in sports, handling rejection and failure, and dealing with parents. He has won three lifetime achievement awards for the body of his work: the Margaret A. Edwards Award, the ALAN Award, and the NCTE National Intellectual Freedom Award. Chris Crutcher lives in Spokane, Washington.

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Reviews for Whale Talk

Rating: 3.993036272980502 out of 5 stars
4/5

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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    TJ, an adopted multiracial teen, is athletic and smart. He avoids organized sports until he decides to form a swimming team made up of the school misfits.
  • Rating: 1 out of 5 stars
    1/5
    Apart from this book being a drawn-out macho after-school special, it wasn't the worst. It just wasn't for me.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Young adult novel about a senior who starts a high school swim team of "misfits." An excellent read that explores racism, prejudice, coming of age, and high school sports. A little darker in places than I was expecting, but very good. Recommended.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Ostensibly about a kid challenging the ruling power of sports at his high school, this story also shows the power of being a part of something. This was a beautiful and difficult read. Difficult because the author shows you all the ways that people are cruel and abusive to other people. Beautiful because most of the characters learn and grow. Crutcher is also very good at writing smart (and smart-ass) teenagers that are entertaining and funny. But seriously, have some tissues handy as you're reading this heart-wrenching and yet hopeful book.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Love this book about bullying, where the underdogs make headway-at a cost.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This was a Christmas gift from my eighth-grade son. This fall, he read a book by [[Chris Crutcher]] in his English class called [Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes]. He liked it so much that he talked me into reading it, and I liked it too. So when we opened up our Christmas presents, we had each gotten each other a Chris Crutcher book - luckily, two different ones. I wasn't sure that [Whale Talk] was going to be quite as good as [Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes]. It started off a little slower. Crutcher introduces us to the main character, T. J. Jones, quickly. T. J. is adopted and of mixed heritage. That alone makes him different in the small town where he lives. Although he's a good athlete, he has avoided organized sports, until his English teacher tells him that he's starting a swimming team. T. J. sees this as an opportunity not just to excel at a sport he's good at, but also to build a team of kids who don't fit in anywhere else. In providing the backstories of the swim team members, of T. J.'s family, and of his nemeses from the football team, the story slows a bit. But as the swim team starts competing and becoming a cohesive team, the story picks up. By the end, I was rooting for these kids and was ready to accept what seemed like it might be a storybook ending. . . until Crutcher caught me unaware. I was willing to roll with a few plot twists. In the end, I appreciated an ending that might be called both uplifting and heartbreaking at the same time. Crutcher works as a child and family therapist, and it is clear that he understands the challenges that no child should have to face, but many do. This adds a level of realism to the story that makes this book stand out from other YA books of its type. Some of the characters are a bit unidimensional, but having good guys to root for and bad guys to root against was one of the elements that drives this book forward. My son finished his Crutcher book ([Period 8]) about the same time that I finished this one, so we both have another Crutcher book to look forward to soon.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Read this in my undergrad YA lit course. Liked a lot, very moving boy centered story. Good for topics of bullying and standing up to adversity. But... I remember our class having a discussion about the MC's girlfriend how much of a flat 2D character she was and how it bugged us. Reading some of Crutcher's other work I've felt the same reaction at times.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    While I could get behind the main character here, I just found this book a little hard to take. While I do think teen novels should deal with tough issues and not shy away from unpleasantness, this one seemed a bit extreme. The disturbing nature of the work was heightened by the fact that the author, Chris Crutcher, works as a child psychologist and doubtless based much of the book's shocking violence on situations he has actually encountered. What was harder to swallow for me was the sheer concentration of cruelty and depravity. Can one small town harbor such an overwhelming cross-section of violence and irresponsible adults? Why is this one teenager seemingly the only one responsible for trying to right wrongs here? Also, considering the book's subject matter, the packaging of both of the popular editions seems off. The back cover of the Harper Teen edition makes the book sound like something appropriate for middle schoolers--a fun sports story about a goofy swim team of misfits. The novel, of course, is something else entirely. Informed readers is what we're going for here, everyone. This novel does spark some great serious conversation, but be aware that the contents are not what they appear from the outset!
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This book was as funny as it was devastating. I've never read a book by Chris Crutcher and this was so very poignant and articulate in its message that I will be looking for more by Crutcher to read.

    At certain parts, I found T.J. a little arrogant for my liking, but he's a popular kid in high school, so I get it. There also were a lot of threads to follow, but it was handled so well by Crutcher that I didn't get too overly confused (some of the names did run together for me though)

    My favorite part of this book: a healthy teenage relationship shown as a background to the story. It would have been easy to make it a focus and bring it into the storyline better - but it would have lessened the quality of the book.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    When TJ's teacher askes him to join a newly forming swim team, TJ's pretty sure it's not for him. Although a natural athlete, TJ's avoided organized sports for good reasons. But when he sees one of the high school jocks bullying a special needs student, he devises gets an idea. Crutcher writes realistic fiction, which is not my genre of first choice, but his characters & plots really grab you.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    I'll admit, the only reasons I wanted to read this is because some parents want to ban this from a high school class. After reading this book and seeing some of their comments I can guarantee that not one of them read this book.

    Some of their gripes have to do with the profanity used. I'll admit, some of the profanity could have been held back. But most were essential to the telling of the story and more importantly to the telling of the characters.

    I think I read this through different eyes because of all of this. I tried to read this as an educator in order to see if I felt if there was any educational value to this. This book touched upon so many important and relevant topics. Bullying, racial tension, and mental and physical abuse to name some of the big ones. This is absolutely a book I would have any high school student read.P
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    I read this for Book Club. My rating is actually 3.5, but the stars don't let me do that half star thing. I started this book not liking it for about the first third of the book. The reason is that the protagonist is sooooo angry and really wants revenge against all kinds of people and society in general. I'm not real comfortable with anger and violent thoughts. However, I stuck with it because I knew I had to read the whole thing in order to be able to discuss it. Let's face it, if your name is The Tao you have every write to be angry for that alone. I'm really glad I did read the whole thing, because it's one of the books I think you can talk about for a long time.

    After the first third I started to empathize with The Tao and it helped that he was using his anger not in a violent way but in a somewhat productive get-back-at-the-establishment-by-outsmarting-them way. I really loved the themes regarding bullying, people who are different, the outsized relationship of sports in our society, and particularly high school. I liked that the protagonist found a way to stand up for himself and for the other "different" people at his high school. The intelligent twists The Tao uses to get back at the powers that be in high school were brilliantly manipulative.

    The father was wonderfully written and I'm so glad he wasn't perfect, though in many ways he was the best Dad possible. Also the English Teacher, Mr. Simet, who sponsored the swim team was a great example of the ways faculty find to help while still staying out of trouble with the administration.

    The reason my rating isn't higher than 3.5 is that there were too many times I had to suspend disbelief during the story. I know why the author inserted these incidents or situations, but I thought they could have been better or made a little more realistic. In spite of that, I still recommend the book to anyone who has been bullied or is raising sons who don't fit the high school jock mold and feel left out.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Though Chris Crutcher is the master of extremes, this book is a must-read. I have read this book multiple times, and I am always enthralled by the characters, backstories and all. As a high school reading teacher, I latch onto any book that my struggling readers are willing to delve into and Whale Talk is one of them.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    T J, whose full name is The Toa Jones (there’s a joke there if you pronounce it correctly), relates the story of his eighteenth year, the year he graduates. He has been asked by his English teacher to form a college swimming team, but there is no pool, and it seems T J is the only swimmer.T J gives a frank account of events of that year, not omitting his own short-comings. Raised by adoptive parents, he being the biological son of a European mother and Japanese/black American father, in a predominantly white small town outside Washington, he struggles to keep his temper in check in the face of the many injustices resulting from the racism and bigotry of small-minded jocks.Accepting the challenge of forming a swim team he assembles a curios bunch of misfits and the downtrodden and champions their cause as he strives to attain a coveted varsity Letter-Jacket, normally the preserve of high achievers in the accepted sports, for each member of his team. It is a heart-warming tale as the team unite in their cause despite the fact they seemed doomed to failure from the start. At the same time likeable T J has his own problems to deal with, but here his stable family upbringing helps him to maintain balance despite himself.At times funny, at times moving, with a tense and gripping finale, it makes for an involving story. It does get a little preachy at times, but it is a good cause, showing up racisms and family abuse for what it is; written by someone who clearly has some experience in such matters.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    There were plenty of places where I had to wipe away a tear after reading sections of this book, particularly in the strength and kindness characters' showed each other after facing cruelty at the hands of other characters and life. The story centers around TJ, a gifted athlete who doesn't buy into the school caste system which places varsity athletes at the center of the universe regardless of the content of their characters. TJ puts together a swim team of those who don't quite fit. Although he does it initially as a way to stick it to the jocks, it turns out that this group forms meaningful bonds. TJ's own family is pretty amazing, his adopted parents open their home to an abused girl just as they did for TJ when he was a toddler. TJ's parents, coaches, and counselor, are pretty amazing role models. Over and over again the adults remind TJ that when people behave badly, even evilly, it points to a cycle of abuse. Crutcher's work as a child and family therapist is a clear influence throughout the book. It's a layered narrative that woven together makes a complex, emotional story.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Overall this is a good book. It starts off fairly slow but eventually picks up. I loved the character TJ and how he did his best to help everyone. His parents sound like great parents too. Not a big fan of the ending but understand why it ended the way it did.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Although Chris Crutcher does not speak in the current idiom of boys, he still speaks to boys in this story about a multicultural kid living in a small town in rural Washington state. T.J., a multicultural kid who's blessed with intelligence and athletic ability is nevertheless a victim of racism. He decides to start a swim team for kids who are misfits in one way or another, after seeing a disabled kid bullied out of wearing his dead brother's varsity letter jacket because the boy is not himself an athlete. T.J.'s main conflict is between him and the small-town, white-supremacist types who rule the sports' world in town. There are both triumphs and tragedies in this story. Strangely, when the tragedy finally occurs, T.J.'s response to it is understated, after he has spent the whole book in barely restrained anger against the bullies.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Good book dealing with racism, outcasts and swimming.T.J (The Tao) Jones is part black, Japanese and white, which makes him stand out in his suburban Washington town. Naturally athletic, the coaches at his high school constantly try to get T.J. to try out for sports, to no avail. That is, until, T.J.'s favorite English teacher convinces him to start a swim team to save his job.T.J. recruits a motley group of fellow students including one without a leg and one who is very overweight. Their stories intertwine and make for an interesting read.My one complaint about the story was how stereotypical the bullies were. I felt they were one-note and not as fully developed as the other characters. However, it doesn't take away from the story as may be expected.Highly recommended to those who like to fight for the underdog.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    A very powerful book about racism, stereotyping, and aggression. The book's metaphor about whales was perfect and how we should be helping one another and looking out for our own kind--humans--all humans--despite their backgrounds, color, age, etc.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    whale talk was an awesomely funny book, and yet it contained some serious thought-provoking issues that made me sick to my stomach to think that there are still people out there that judge by skin color, mental abilities, gender, age, etc. and use it as fuel to harass others. I loved T.J.'s personality - he was just so full of life that I couldn't help but smile most of the time. Plus his swimmates were also very funny. Sometimes it was hard to keep them straight, but their personalities were so very different but very hilarious. And I have to give total kudos to his parents, especially his father, because they were awesome individuals and totally had his back when T.J. decided to take a stand for what he believed in.The ending - oh, the ending! It totally made me cry! I wish I could say more, but I can't. Just that you should have a tissue handy when you get there, if you're the sort of person who cries during books and movies.whale talk would be perfect if you are feeling down and need a good laugh. But don't expect all laughs - there are some serious issues going on that will get your heart all twisted.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This book is an interesting story with ever changing moods that keep you going. One minute reading this book you'll be laughing at something that's happened, the next you'll be on the verge of tears. It truly is a touching story and I strongly recommend anyone to experience it.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    When I first saw the cover of the book I knew right then and there that I wasn’t going to be very interested in this book. I know that they say never judge a book by its cover, but that saying does not included me in it. Every time that I am handed a book or looking at a book I always judge it; you may say because I had already had a set opinion in mind that I was going to let it affect me through out the book, but I didn’t. To me the setting and mood of the whole novel wasn’t very interesting and there wasn’t a lot of conflict in this story either and I like alot of conflict in my stories to be really interested in it. Yes, their may have been problem within the story, but to me some of those problems could have been solved a long time ago. Overall the novel wasn’t all so bad so don’t let my opinion effect your decision on reading this novel; remember everyone has a different opinion in every type of situation.
  • Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
    2/5
    I found that this book left little to be desired. It was well written, and very witty, but little stale if that makes sence. It didn't really go anywhere and was a slow read. The characters were interesting and the idea different but it's plot was for the most part is open. The main character or protagonist would be T.J Jones. He is a senior year and he wants to help out these kids who are constantly being harassed. His teacher wants him to be on the swim team he is coatching so T.J tells him that he wants these cetain people on the team and he will be on it as well. The book goes on about this teams differences and similaritys. overall i thought the book was okay.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    i've read this book twice now and i'm still not bored of it. The book had me going untill the last page. It revolves around the captain of cutter highschool's swim team, T.J jones. At his highschool the letterman jacket is the ultimate symbol for athletics, and anyone who wears it, therefore it's almost unattainable. When mike bourbor, one of the antagonists of the story, sees chris coughlin wearing his dead brothers letter jacket he starts to bully and threaten him. Thats when T.J. jones plots for a way chris, and others like him, can get a letter of their own. Then his journalism teacher, simet, proposes the idea of cutters first swim team. Along the way they make a team, bond with eachother, and battle racism and football players. I'd recommend this to anyone.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Whale Talk by Chris Crutcher was a good all around book. It deals with many big problems in society that most people dont want to talk about, he directly addresses it. This book might not interest every reader though. I believe this is more of guy's book because it has a lot to do with sports and male testosterone. One of the most appealing parts of this story was the part where the main character stands up and trys to help all those that have been bullied and is trying to help them take revenge on the jocks who have terrorized there lives. It is a strong book in the sence that it deals with so many big problems in just one book such as raceism and abuse and those are only a select few. it was a good book.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    All T.J. Jones wanted was revenge from the jocks who thought they were so superior to everyone else. He wanted to show the jocks, the coach, and the entire school that even an outsider or someone that wasn't in major sports can earn the honor of wearing a letter jacket. However, T.J. could care less about the "pride" a letter jacket gives to a someone in Cutter High. He wants people like Chris Coughlin to have the opportunity to be a part of something. Pretty soon the swim team is born with a bright future and possibilities which include more than just trophies. Friendships are formed that will last longer than the season.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This a pretty good book. I mean, it’s not my favorite, but I think the different development in the characters and theme of it is extremely interesting. It’s about a multiracial senior in high school, TJ, who is extremely athletically capable, but because he doesn’t like the way his school conducts sports he chooses not to join them. Well, he feels that way until he decides he’s going to stay a swim team for the school to help the outcasts of the school to wear the blue and gold jackets, that are so prestigious at Cutter high school. It deals with problems such as child abuse, spousal abuse, racism, and the effect of bullying. I definitely recommend this book. I even tried to get my mom to read it, but she was too busy at work; oh well, her loss.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I don't know what it is about Crutcher's writing that draws me in so. A lot of the stories are very similar, the adults tend to have no sense of humor, they are also very one dimensional in that they are either good or stupid, very little gray area. The heroes tend to be great at everything, even recovering from traumatic head injuries, knifings, or traumatic childhoods. And I know that I disagree with a lot of his politics. I wince reading some stuff and think of it as propaganda for his political point of view directed toward impressionable youth, which enrages me somewhat. And yet. And yet, I keep reading his stuff. I like his characters. I like the way he writes. He tells a good story. And this one was no exception. TJ is a mixed race kid adopted by a biker dad and lawyer mom, atheletic to the nth degree but won't participate in school sports, which drives his sports-centric school authorities to insanity. His favorite teacher, in an effort to avoid having to coach another team, starts a swim team. TJ gathers together the school's disenfranchised, the ones who aren't allowed to wear the coveted letter jacket, and creates an amazing team. They don't win, but they try and they keep trying and that is really their success. There are also topics of prejudice and racial stuff, but that took a back seat for me to the team. I loved how these disseparate boys came together as loners and made themselves into a team. And I loved the sportmanship of the other schools portrayed in this book. Although the "Cutter All Night Wolverines" are the slowest swimmers, the other schools' atheletes finish long before them, however they don't get out of the water until the slowest guy finishes. I wish high school boys could really behave this way.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    TJ, an adopted multiracial teen, is athletic and smart. He avoids organized sports until he decides to form a swimming team made up of the school misfits.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    Ok, first things first. All the editions of this book I've seen feature a white guy, running. WHY?! The book is about a swim team, and narrated by a black/Japanese/white guy.I did not love this one nearly as much as I was told I would. I mean, it was good, but I just didn't click with it. Mainly, I wasn't a huge fan of TJ, and the story is entirely in his voice. He's just... too good. His main problem is that he doesn't like jerks in authority positions (which makes him even better to a teen audience!) and his anger issues (but he only gets mad at the bad guys, and only lashes out at people we see are bad people and deserve it, so it's totally ok!) His self-righteousness annoyed me.

Book preview

Whale Talk - Chris Crutcher

Dedication

For Ben Dodge

(1982–1997)

Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Whale Talk

More Whale Talk

An Interview with Chris Crutcher

Excerpt from Losers Bracket

Excerpt from Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes

Back Ad

About the Author

Books by Chris Crutcher

Praise for Whale Talk

Credits

Copyright

About the Publisher

CHAPTER 1

In the end, write it down. Back up and find the story. Mr. Simet, my English and journalism teacher, says the best way to write a story, be it fact or fiction, is to believe aliens will find it someday and make a movie, and you don’t want them making Ishtar. The trick is to dig out the people and events that connect, and connect them. No need to worry about who’s wearing Nike and who’s wearing Reebok, or anybody’s hat size or percentage of body fat. Like Jack Webb on the Dragnet series on Nick at Nite says, Just the facts, ma’am. Just the facts.

The facts. I’m black. And Japanese. And white. Politically correct would be African-American, Japanese-American and what? Northern European-American? God, by the time I wrote all that on a job application the position would be filled. Besides, I’ve never been to Africa, never been to Japan, and don’t even know which countries make up Northern Europe. Plus, I know next to nothing about the individuals who contributed all that exotic DNA, so it’s hard to carve out a cultural identity in my mind. So: Mixed. Blended. Pureed. Potpourri.

Adopted.

Big deal; so was Superman.

And like Superman, I was adopted by great people. The woman I call Mom—who is Mom—Abby Jones, was in the hospital following her fourth miscarriage (and final attempt at the miracle of birth) where she met my biological mother, Glenda, right after my presumed bio-dad, Stephan, had assisted in my natural childbirth only to come eyeball-to-eyeball with the aforementioned UNICEF poster boy. A second-generation German-American married to a woman of Swiss-Norwegian descent, he was a goner before my toes cleared the wet stuff. Any way he matched up the fruit flies, he couldn’t come up with me. Because my mom is one of those magic people with the natural capacity to make folks in shitty circumstances feel less shitty, she consoled Glenda and even brought her home until she could get her feet on the ground. Evidently Glenda was as surprised as Stephan; she’d had a one-night stand with my sperm donor to get even for a good thumping and had no idea the tall black-Japanese poet’s squiggly swimmer was the one in a billion to crash through to the promised land.

Things sped rapidly downhill for Glenda as a single mother, and two years later, when she brought Child Protection Services crashing down on herself, getting heavily into crack and crank and heavily out of taking care of me, she remembered Mom’s kindness, tracked her down and begged her to take me. Mom and Dad didn’t blink—almost as if they were expecting me, to hear them tell it—and all of a sudden I was the rainbow-coalition kid of two white, upwardly mobile ex-children of the sixties.

Actually, only Mom was upwardly mobile. She’s a lawyer, working for the assistant attorney general’s office, mostly on child-abuse cases. Dad likes motorcycles; he’s just mobile.

We never did hear from Glenda again, Mom says probably because the separation was too painful, and shameful. Sometimes I find myself longing for her, just to see or talk with her, discover more about the unsettledness within me; but most of the time that ache sits in a shaded corner of my mind, a vague reminder of what it is not to be wanted. At the same time all that seems out of place, because I remember nothing about her, not what she looked like or the sound of her voice or even the touch of her hand. I do admit to having a few laughs imagining how history rewrote itself inside Stephan’s head when my shiny brown head popped out.

It’s interesting being of color in a part of the country where Mark Fuhrman has his own radio talk show. My parents have always encouraged me to be loud when I run into racism, but I can’t count on racism being loud when it runs into me. Very few people come out and say they don’t like you because you aren’t white; when you’re younger it comes at a birthday party you learn about after the fact, or later, having a girl say yes to a date only to come back after discussing it with her parents, having suddenly remembered she has another engagement that night. Not much to do about that but let it register and don’t forget it. I learned in grade school that the color of a person’s skin has to do only with where their way-long-ago ancestors originated, so my mind tells me all racists are either ignorant or so down on themselves they need somebody to be better than. Most of the time telling myself that works. Once in a while my gut pulls rank on my mind, and I’m compelled to get ugly.

I called All News All Talk Radio a couple of days after the first time I heard the spectacularly racially sensitive ex-L.A. detective giving Spokane and the rest of the Inland Empire the hot poop on big-time crime fighting. The talk show I called had featured the mayors of an eastern Washington and a north Idaho town declaring that the racist label put on this region is undeserved, blown out of proportion due to the presence of the Aryan Nations fort over in Hayden Lake, Idaho, and the existence of several small militias spread out between central Washington and eastern Montana.

The mayors had departed when the talk-jock finally said, We’re talking with T. J. from Cutter, about fifty miles outside our great city.

I said, So this racist label, it’s undeserved?

I believe it is, he said. An entire region can’t be held responsible for the ignorant actions of a few. Certainly you can’t argue with that.

You’re right, I said. "I can’t. But if the racist label is about perceptions, and in this case, undeserved perceptions, why would you guys have the Mark Fuhrman show?"

Have you tuned in to Mark’s show?

Not purposely, I said, but I was scanning the stations and landed right on him.

How long did you listen?

Long enough to convince myself it was really him, that you guys weren’t just pulling my chain.

Then you heard a man who knows a lot about crime prevention and an accomplished professional radio man.

I said, His voice was okay.

The jock said, What’s your point, T. J.?

"That if you guys are running the most powerful AM station in the region and you’re worried about people’s perceptions of that region as racist, you might think twice before you give one of the true icons of racism in this country two hours of drive-time radio every week."

We didn’t hire Mark to talk about race relations. We hired him to talk about criminals and the criminal mind, and about the intricacies of police work. He’s written books on the subject, you know.

You didn’t hire him because of his famous name?

No, sir, we did not.

So when you decided your listeners needed to learn about Spokane, Washington, police work, you figured you’d get better expertise from a dishonored ex-L.A. cop rather than some retired veteran Spokane cop who might have covered Spokane’s streets for twenty-five or thirty years?

He said, How old are you?

What does that matter?

You sound like a kid.

You tell me why that matters, and I’ll tell you how old I am.

It matters because if you’re too young, you might lack the experience to carry on this conversation intelligently.

I’m a fifty-six-year-old retired Spokane policeman, I said, and paused a moment. Guess I don’t have the voice for it. I hung up.

I’m really not bothered by the race thing most of the time; at least I can say I don’t bring it up first. And I’ve never wanted to be anyone else, and I don’t want to be any other color. My bio-daddy must have had a pretty good brain because I have a big-time I.Q. and, Simet says, monster talent in articulation, plus I’m almost six-two and just a little under two hundred pounds. I can stuff a basketball from a standstill, and I’ve been clocked in a little more than ten-point-four seconds for a hundred meters. When I was thirteen, I qualified for the Junior Olympics in two swimming events, and I’m even a pretty fair cowboy, having spent parts of three summers at Little Britches Rodeo Camp. That’s a pretty fair résumé for a guy who, until this year, never participated in one second of organized high school sports.

And I’m not hard to look at. Mr. Simet says I look like Tiger Woods on steroids, so I get plenty of chances to socialize. For every girl whose parents are terrified of a muddied gene pool, there’s a girl who would use me as a threat to do just that. And there are plenty of girls who don’t care one way or the other.

The truly unique thing about me isn’t my racial heritage, or my brain or my size or my athletic abilities. Momma Glenda didn’t leave me with much to remember her by, but she certainly left me with the all-time moniker. A lot of kids whose parents grew up in the hippie generation have names like Autumn or Somber or Twilight or Destiny. Who knows what their parents were smoking to name them after seasons or moods or times of day, but good old Glenda went them one better, naming me in her spiritual period. She may have been a little too spiritual on mood-altering funstuff to imagine my first day in kindergarten.

Tell everyone your first name when your turn comes, Mrs. Herrick said, nodding to the pencil-necked, tow-headed kid next to me. The kid said, Roger.

I said, The.

Excuse me?

The. She should have said, Tell everyone what people call you.

The other kids giggled. My fists clenched, blood rushing into my head.

Mrs. Herrick said, Uh, do you have a middle name?

Tao, I said, pronouncing it correctly as Dow.

Your name is The Tao? What kind of name is that?

I shrugged. Mine.

To her credit, Mrs. Herrick glanced at her class roster to see if I was telling the truth and moved on, but as you might guess, that wasn’t the end of it.

It’s a book, I told Sue Eldridge and Ronnie Blackburn later, my back against the jackets hanging on hooks at the rear of the room. I was as yet unaware it is also an entire philosophy.

Why did your mother give you the same name as a book? Sue asked.

Just did. I wanted to explain that my real mother, Abby, didn’t do that; that it was my buy-O mother, but I hadn’t been real successful articulating that in the past.

Ronnie laughed and turned to the rest of the class, who were pulling on their coats for recess. His mom gave him the same name as a book! he yelled to them. Then a light clicked above his head. Hey, he said, me, too. My mom gave me the same name as a book, too. I’m Curious George! He squealed in delight, falling to the floor between giggles, scratching under his arms like an ape.

Suddenly he was struggling to push my knee off his chest.

Stop! Mrs. Herrick yelled, but I punched Ronnie Blackburn in the nose anyway. It was the beginning of a series of unplanned three-day vacations that would dot my educational career like chicken pox.

But there’s worse news about my handle, and if you’ve been paying attention, you know what it is: My health dictates the health of the nation’s economy.

How’s your son doing, Mr. Jones!

The Tao’s up today, sir.

That’s good news. Try to keep him happy.

Think I don’t get carried away with those? To avoid confusion, and raucous laughter whenever my name is mentioned, I’m called T. J.

It’s over now. I’m at the end of the summer following my senior year in high school; I have my diploma in a lockbox and the advantage of hindsight. But I want to tell it without that advantage—tell it as it unfolded—Mr. Simet says any story is only true in the moment.

My father always said there are no coincidences; that when two seemingly related events occur, they are related and should be treated that way. My father had very good reasons to try to understand how the universe works, which I’m sure I’ll get into later.

The seemingly related things that I believe kick this story off happen on the second day of school. Coaches have tried to get me to turn out for sports since junior high. Sometimes they’re insistent and sometimes downright nasty, accusing me of lacking the high school equivalent of patriotism, even to the point of calling me a traitor. But I’ve always eluded them. I’ll play basketball three or four hours nonstop on open gym night, and I’ve always taken a couple of guys to Hoopfest in Spokane, which is the largest three-on-three street-basketball tournament in the country, and my team has won its division every time. I think I could have been a pretty fair football player; I’m sure not afraid to take a hit or to put a good lick on a guy, but something inside me recoils at being told what to do, and that doesn’t sit well with most coaches, who are paid to do exactly that. I don’t blame them; I know it’s me. But the better you know yourself, the better chance you have of staying clear of trouble, and I’m pretty sure I’d never have lasted a full season of football with Coach Benson or basketball with Coach Roundtree. At one point or another in the heat of a game, Benson and Roundtree retreat to the time-tested and highly grating tool of public humiliation as a motivator, and that particular tool brings me back in your face faster than a yo-yo on a bungee cord, at which time I immediately suspend the notion of giving a shit.

So why was I considering joining a swim team that didn’t exist before this year when I haven’t been competitive in the water since fourteen, except for trying to beat Dad into the shower every morning? It’s Simet. He catches me after third-period English and says, Jones, didn’t you used to be a pretty good swimmer?

I’m still a pretty good swimmer, I say. Wanna try me? Simet and I enjoy a longstanding rivalry wherein one of us challenges the other to some athletic contest. We handicap it based on our abilities (he lies like a student with a term paper due to get an advantage) and then make a friendly wager, say my English grade against some unsavory task he needs done, like stirring his compost heap when the temperature rises above eighty, or washing and waxing his Humvee, which looks better dirty.

He says, I want to try you, but not against me.

Who?

Someone different every week.

Visions of age-group swimming pop up: permanently chlorinated hair and eyes, clogged sinuses, ear infections. This has a familiar ring.

What do you think?

That you generally give me less information than I need to make an informed decision.

He gathers his books and nods toward the parking lot. Hop into my babe-mobile and I’ll buy you a milk shake. Maybe a pizza. We’ll talk.

I follow him down the hall. Make it a steak. Something is sick and wrong here.

Let’s hope it takes you a while to figure out what it is.

At Solomon’s Pizza, Simet tells me that Mr. Morgan, the principal, asked him to replace Mr. Packenbush as assistant wrestling coach, who’s resigning due to reasons of health. In a burst of panic, Simet told Morgan he’s been trying to get a swimming team going, since Cutter is one of only three high schools in the conference without one.

I say, Morgan, of course, pointed out that we don’t have a pool.

Way ahead of him, he says back. I told him I could get free workout time at All Night Fitness, which I’m praying will actually be true.

The pool at All Night is twenty yards, I remind him, with an underwater ledge at the shallow end that will give you a subdural hematoma if you flip your turn. A subdural hematoma is what happens to your brain if you get whacked on the head hard enough to bounce it off the inside of your skull. I hear that term a lot when my mom is trying a child-abuse case.

Simet says I’m mucking things up with details—

With only four lanes—

—making it more difficult than it had to be.

—and a ladder smack in the middle of one of them.

I should think of it as a challenge.

Every meet would be away, I tell him. No teams would come here to swim. In a twenty-yard pool, records don’t count.

All part of what makes an insurmountable obstacle interesting, he says. A perennial road team. Mermen without a pond.

You’re forgetting something else. Nobody I swam with in age-group swimming lives here. There can’t be three real swimmers in this entire school.

He considers that a minute, takes a bite of pizza and a long swallow on his beer. I’m going off the record here, he says. Educators are supposed to stick together and not bad-mouth one another, so we can collectively stay ahead of the educatees. But do you know Coach Murphy?

Murphy is sixty-eight years old, having received divine dispensation to teach till two days after he dies, and I have judiciously avoided taking PE or health classes from him for four years. He tolerates zero bullshit or less. Yeah, I know Coach Murphy.

Then you know what my life would be like as his assistant. He leans forward. I have my ways, Jones. If I go down, you go with me, which is to say if I coach wrestling, you wrestle. You have completed six semesters of English. You need eight. Think how easy it would be for me to misplace your records a week before graduation or remove a leg from one of your A’s. You’d be caught at Cutter High School like a rat in a Twilight Zone cage.

They’re really willing to let you have this team? No facility, no swimmers?

One swimmer, he says.

One used-to-be swimmer, I say back.

T. J., I’ve looked at some of your old times. You were phenomenal. And I’ve coached some big-time swimmers, guys headed for the trials. Tell you what, I can whip you into good-enough shape to get us points at State, which would elevate Cutter in the overall all-sport state championship.

Spock, are you out of your Vulcan mind? I ask in my best William Shatner, which isn’t all that bad.

Simet fixes his gaze on the table. Actually, that’s why they agreed. I told them you were a lock. If I don’t come through, they’ll sue for malpractice.

"You mean if I don’t come through, they’ll sue for malpractice."

Same thing.

If it’s the same thing, you swim.

He nods at the remaining slice of pizza and says, Go ahead and eat that, which means he is desperate. He glances at his watch as I snap it up. You don’t have to answer tonight. I’ll give you twelve hours.

It could be worse. Simet is a guy who always teaches you something, and it’s not always about English or journalism. He was a hell of a swimmer himself in his younger years, when dinosaurs roamed the planet, and he seldom lets his classes forget what a spiritual experience it is to test yourself against that particular element. And though I burned out on it back then, I remember what amazing solace I felt working out. Up until I started swimming in grade school, half my teachers wanted me medicated and the other half wanted me in reform school. It helped me focus, beveled the edges on my boundless, uncontrolled energy, dulled my rage. All things considered, it is enough to make me consider Simet’s proposal.

And here comes the kicker, the thing my father would say couldn’t be a coincidence. I’m walking out of Simet’s room the next day, thinking if I go along with him, I’ll be breaking a career-long rule banning myself from organized sports while playing as many disorganized sports as time in my life allows. I mean, I love athletics. When I’m gliding to the hoop in a pickup game, or gunning some guy down at home plate from center field in a summer vacant-lot game, or falling into a perfect pace five miles out on a run, I feel downright godlike. But those things I do on my own. Cutter is such a jock school; they pray before games and cajole you to play out of obligation, and fans scream obscenities at one another from the stands, actually creating rivalries between towns, which has always seemed crazy to me. I remember my freshman year when the entire town was actually happy because the stud running back from Jackson

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