Throughout the story, Evan (my narrator) fluctuates between the ages of nineteen (although very late nineteen) and twenty-six. He is five foot ten with fairly broad shoulders. His eyes are deeply dark brown, his hair is light brown, and his complexion is rather ruddy. That is, compared to Caleb, his complexion is rather ruddy. He is a bit of a cynic and an adept quipster. He can feign no tolerance for apathy. He reads, both prose and poetry, constantly; his favorite authors vacillate between Ernest Hemingway and Robert Louis Stevenson, while his favorite poet is decidedly Ezra Pound. He is quite the poet himself, although his verses usually wind up crumpled on the arm of the couch until Caleb discovers and rescues them. His wordiness leaks into his speech; he uses what my public address teacher calls ‘SAT words’ regularly, for which Caleb loves to tease him.
“I’m wretched,” [Caleb] said. “Utterly abhorrent, odious, repulsive, ghastly -- I’m also a Lit. major, and do use such words in everyday conversation -- hateful, boorish...” He settled the instrument beneath his chin. “And, now, I’m performing.”
And, my personal favorite:
“What about me, though?” [Caleb said.]
“That you were ridiculously tall.”
“I was sitting down.”
“Yes, but when a person’s legs stretch eight feet across the floor one makes assumptions.”
He relaxed now, rolling the scarf about his hand.
“What did you notice first about me?” I asked.
A smirk lit across his mouth. “When a person’s robe reaches only to one’s knees--”
I pushed him into the wall and we were happy.
Evan has never been close to his family: i.e, he doesn't know that he frequently talks in his sleep until Caleb tells him. At one point he visits his parents over the Thanksgiving holiday, but his parents annoy him even more than they used to. This is primarily because he has Caleb with him and can be quite protective. Not weirdly protective.
“Don’t ask him about that scar. If you unearth his life story, leave that scar out.”
“You know how he got it?” [my mother asked.]
“No.”
“Then how do you know it was bad? You have a scar on your knee, and that’s just from falling on broken concrete.”
“I know it’s bad because he never speaks of it. He never motions toward it, he never touches it, he never lets anything else touch it.”
“That means nothing.”
“When he puts on a sweatshirt he holds his head sideways, works one arm in, eases the collar over his head and pulls it down until the other arm is in and able to arrange an air pocket around his neck.” I clenched my teeth a moment. “For mercy’s sake, just don’t ask about it!”
Protective like that. When he says this he is actually running water over his hand at the kitchen sink, because his mother did ask about the scar and he promptly burned himself, securing her immediate attention.
Hi Mom and Nana! Yes, laugh away. I know Evan and I had the same mishap with broken concrete. It was more interesting than falling of his uncle's bed, and less interesting than climbing over a low rock-and-barbed-wire fence to escape angry Sardinian sheep dogs.
Also, Mom and Nana! Evan does talk in his sleep because Matty talks in his sleep and it's the CUTEST THING EVER.
Sorry, I'm back now. Evan, from the moment they meet, easily knows what would pain his friend, and can't at all understand how other people do not. Sorry for that sentence: it refuses to be clear. I trust you see what I'm trying to say.
Evan enjoys teasing Caleb as much as Caleb enjoys teasing him. Although most of his teasing is entirely serious and only barely disguised as teasing. He says stupid things while doing caring things.
I pulled a metal rod from his hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”
My friend assumed an admirable look of utter confusion.
“This is my bed. Go mess with your own stuff.” I pushed him to his violin case.
“We have to put the house together.”
“In silence? Do you really expect me to work without music, Caleb?”
You know what I'm finding difficult? Writing just about Evan. He is one of those people who is brought out by others; in this case, by pulling someone else out. He becomes himself through his friendship.
“No.”
“Then how do you know it was bad? You have a scar on your knee, and that’s just from falling on broken concrete.”
“I know it’s bad because he never speaks of it. He never motions toward it, he never touches it, he never lets anything else touch it.”
“That means nothing.”
“When he puts on a sweatshirt he holds his head sideways, works one arm in, eases the collar over his head and pulls it down until the other arm is in and able to arrange an air pocket around his neck.” I clenched my teeth a moment. “For mercy’s sake, just don’t ask about it!”
Protective like that. When he says this he is actually running water over his hand at the kitchen sink, because his mother did ask about the scar and he promptly burned himself, securing her immediate attention.
Hi Mom and Nana! Yes, laugh away. I know Evan and I had the same mishap with broken concrete. It was more interesting than falling of his uncle's bed, and less interesting than climbing over a low rock-and-barbed-wire fence to escape angry Sardinian sheep dogs.
Also, Mom and Nana! Evan does talk in his sleep because Matty talks in his sleep and it's the CUTEST THING EVER.
Sorry, I'm back now. Evan, from the moment they meet, easily knows what would pain his friend, and can't at all understand how other people do not. Sorry for that sentence: it refuses to be clear. I trust you see what I'm trying to say.
Evan enjoys teasing Caleb as much as Caleb enjoys teasing him. Although most of his teasing is entirely serious and only barely disguised as teasing. He says stupid things while doing caring things.
I pulled a metal rod from his hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”
My friend assumed an admirable look of utter confusion.
“This is my bed. Go mess with your own stuff.” I pushed him to his violin case.
“We have to put the house together.”
“In silence? Do you really expect me to work without music, Caleb?”
You know what I'm finding difficult? Writing just about Evan. He is one of those people who is brought out by others; in this case, by pulling someone else out. He becomes himself through his friendship.
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