And Benji said, “Riotscoot.”
And I said, Hyperscoot.
“Hyperscoot already means something else,” said Benji. “A couple or three spazzes groan their chairs at the same time by accident — that’s hyperscoot.”
I said, Any time two or more people groan their chairs at once, it’s hyperscoot. It doesn’t matter if they do it by accident or on purpose. Intention’s invisible.
“Lots of things are invisible,” Benji said, “but they still count. They still get their own names. Spare a cheesepuff?”
I pushed my baggie into the lunchless space before him.
“This point of Benji’s is not a weak one,” said Eliyahu. “I ask you: What is the meaning of this face?”
He let all the muscles in his face rest.
It’s a blank face, I said.
“A scared face,” said Benji.
“It’s a fucken bored face,” said Vincie.
“A sad face,” announced Cody von Braker, from the circle. “It’s a doubtful face,” said Miles Minton to Cody. “A face like it’s very hard to push the poop out the ane,” Jesse Ritter said to everyone. “We’re eating here,” said Exar Tea. “We’re not eating chocolate brownies or brown gravy or anything,” retorted Jesse. “It’s a face like your brother’s dog died but she bit you once and you were always scared of her,” said Jerry Throop. “It’s not always brown,” claimed Exar. “Exar shits snot-colored.” “You feel sorry for your brother because he’s your brother, but also happy the scary dog’s dead, and maybe even a little sick of your brother because of how he keeps whining to your mom. You want to punch him a little.” “Not snot-colored. Maybe sometimes beige like peanut butter.” “Half the room’s eating peanut butter, Exar. That’s banced of you.” “Jesse started it.” “I’m not the one who said beige.” “It used to be that whenever you wanted to punch him a little, you didn’t do it, except for that first time, when the dog bit you. Which is why you didn’t do it after that. But now the dog can’t bite you because that dog is dead, you’re thinking.” “I think it’s a face of Protestant determination,” said Forrest Kenilworth. “That fucken dog is fucken dead, you’re thinking. And now? Now you’re gonna punch your brother a lot, even though you only want to punch him a little. You’re gonna punch him for all those other times you wanted to punch him a little and couldn’t because of the dog. And when he says, ‘What are you doing, Jerry? What’re you doing?’ You’ll be like: ‘It adds up.’ Just that. ‘It adds up.’ All cold and minimal and shit. Maybe you even drop the ‘It.’ You just say, ‘Adds up.’ All dirty and real.”
It’s a blank face, I said again.
“Or a pensive face,” said Eliyahu.
So which one is it? I said.
“You see?” said Eliyahu. “It matters. The feeling behind the face is invisible, but it matters. Even to you.”
“Exactly!” said Benji. “It matters. Even to you.”
I’m not saying the feeling doesn’t matter, I said. All I’m saying, I said, is that the feeling is invisible. The face is visible, though; it is visibly blank. If I say, ‘Eliyahu wore a blank face,’ people can try to figure out why it’s blank, and maybe some of them’ll even be right about why it’s blank, but none of them will imagine that it isn’t blank. If I say, ‘Eliyahu wore a pensive face,’ though, then even though some people might picture a blank face, others might picture a face with a crinkled forehead or jutted-out lip or squinted eyes. That’s why if you were pensive when you made that blank face, Eliyahu, it’s better I say, ‘Eliyahu was pensive. He wore a blank face,’ than if I just say, ‘Eliyahu wore a pensive face.’ My way’s more accurate.
“So you’re right,” said Eliyahu.
“Traitor,” said Benji.
“I’m loyal to the truth,” said Eliyahu.
“I was kidding around,” Benji said. “I don’t think you’re a traitor. You think I’d call you a traitor over that?”
“There’s no need to make it federal,” said Eliyahu.
“Federal?” said Vincie.
“Like a federal case,” Jelly said. “Like there’s no need to make a federal case out of it, he’s saying. ”
“It’s hard for me tell when you’re kidding,” Eliyahu said to Benji.
Invisible intentions, I said.
“No way!” said Benji. “That doesn’t prove your point at all. That’s the opposite of proving your point. The reason he didn’t know I was kidding was because he didn’t pay attention to my intentions. He only heard the word ‘traitor.’ He didn’t hear how I said it. I said it real deadpan.”
“Nakamook is scary,” the circle around the cluster was saying. “Gurion’s scarier.” “Not scarier, but better at fighting.” “Not better at fighting, but faster at fighting.” “Maybe a little faster at fighting, but also a little slower to fight.” “And Nakamook’s stronger.” “Thai boxing.” “Short fuse.” “Those crazy arms.” “It’s weird he’s not a basketballer.” “He’s not like a basketballer, so don’t say that.” “Looks like someone who bites people might have a crush on a rumored pyro everyone’s scared of.” “She can hear you. They can all hear us, you know. They’re sitting right there. We’re right next to the inner circle, which is shaped like a rectangle.” “A square.” “They can hear us, but only if they’re listening.” “A square’s a kind of rectangle.” “Even if they listen, it doesn’t mean they can hear us.” “Wrong. A rectangle’s a kind of square.” “You got it backward: The girls listen to the lyrics, the women hear the voice. The voice is more important than the words, so hearing’s deeper than listening.”
I said to Benji, Deadpan’s funny when it’s funny because it’s hard to tell when the person who’s deadpanning is making a joke. It’s hard to tell his intention. And that’s his intention — to make it hard.
“What are we even talking about, here? I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore,” Benji said. “I’m trying to tell you that if we call that action we did ‘hyperscoot,’ then it sounds much more pussy than it actually is because it sounds like it’s by accident. ‘Hyper’ means out of control. The things you do when you’re out of control are necessarily accidental.”
I said, What about riots? If we have a riot, it means we get all out of control, but if we have a riot it’s because we decide to have a riot, and if we decide to have a riot then it’s on purpose.
“A riot’s not out of the control of the rioters! A riot’s only out of the control of the people the rioters are rioting against!”
“It’s okay, Benji. It’s okay,” Jelly said.
“You’re getting a little outta control there yourself,” Vincie told him.
Benji reached across the cluster, sweeping Vincie’s daily lunch-apple sideways.
Ansul Entsry caught the apple in his lap and smiled.
Vincie leaned over the cluster, holding a fresh-opened pudding cup. He tried to turn it over onto Nakamook’s head, but Benji grabbed his wrist and thumbed deep to disable Vincie’s finger control. When the pudding dropped, Nakamook caught it face-up in the palm of his free hand, and Vincie backhanded the pudding with his free hand, and the pudding landed sideways on the cluster in front of Jelly, who righted it just as the surface tension broke. Only a dime-sized puddle of pudding spilled.
“Now the pudding’s Jelly’s, Vincie,” said Benji. “That’s what happens.”
“Hyperscoot,” Vincie said. “Hyperscoot, hyperscoot.”