Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?

I had to reread parts of this story and then truly reflect on the storyline after reading it.  I initially took this as a crime story with a simple girl playing with fire that she had no idea how to handle and getting herself into trouble.  But it didn't make sense that this man could "see" things that nobody else would be able to see.  The women cleaning the corn and the description of June sitting in her dress and high heels were known to Arnold Friendly.  This made me think that Friendly must have been a figment of some sort of evil, a change, or a challenge.  The girl is young, it's the nineteen sixties, and Arnold is old and broken, but persuasive and unrelenting.  Is this girl fighting something within herself?  Did Oates write this as her view into the fight that all women faced in the sixties trying to gain their place in the world, but then succumbing to outside forces?  "Connie" was a pretty girl and she was happier for it, where "June" was a plain and chunky girl and spent her time with her parents, working a bland job, and having virtually no fun from Connie's perspective.  This could be a view of the feminist perspective on what women were fighting against in this era, either be beautiful and, eventually troubled, or bland, ugly and have no life.

Shiloh

This story has good description and background.  It seems as though they narrator is a guest in his own reality.  His world used to be about his rig and his life on the road.  Now he lives a new life with a woman he's been married to for nearly half his life, but has no idea who she is.  Norma changed when her husband came home for good.  She may have stayed the same woman he never knew if he had stayed on the road and they would have remained married and uninvolved with each other.  The sudden change of living arrangements brought other changes in Norma and at some point in time she decided that she was better off without her husband.  The story could have been told from Norma's point of view, or even from Mabel's point of view, but it's told from Leroy's which allows the reader to see how the absent husband feels after being gone for so many years.  There is no question in writing the story this way that Leroy loves his wife, but told from a different point of view the question would remain on whether or not he actually did.  I think this makes the reader sympathetic to Leroy's situation and his feelings. 

Chapter Two of Untitled Story

Note: This is unassigned, but I wanted to share it with the class for feedback.

Chapter Two

     The courtroom doors stretched out above us as if already passing judgment on my family.  I was too short to see through the windows that held the California State symbol at the top of the door.  It had only been a few weeks since we had seen Aunt Ann, but David and I were no longer riddled with bruises.  Now I stood there in front of those judging doors in a hideous pastel blue and yellow plaid dress and old white Mary Jane knock offs.  Christi was dressed similarly and I could tell she was as uncomfortable as I was.  David was forcing himself to stand still but I could tell it was killing him.  He was almost red with anxiety. 

     “Now you kids keep your mouths shut in here and you don’t move or else,” mother threatened just before entering the courtroom. 

     The doors opened and the musty smell of the courtroom hit us like a brick wall.  The sunlight peaked through the eastern windows which cast a glare through the room and illuminated the dust particles in the air.  We were guided by the bailiff to the middle row of the courtroom on the opposite side of the windows where the glare wouldn’t bother us, but it did.  The sun blinded Christi and me.  David was on the opposite side of mother so he was out of the sun’s reach.  I looked up and saw an old man in a black robe at the front of the courtroom staring back at everyone.  I followed his gaze down to the man sitting between us and the judge.  Daddy!  It seemed like forever since I last saw him.  Maybe a million years.  It had been since before the awful trip to visit my aunt.  Daddy!  I thought to myself again.  Now it was hard for me to sit still.  David had found some lint on the bench to keep him occupied.  Christi seemed bored and inattentive.  Her arm was propped up on the side of the bench which held her head as she stared off into space.  There was inaudible speaking throughout the room, but then the judge’s voice boomed, “Do you understand the charges brought against you?”

     My father stood, “Yes, Your Honor.”

     “And how do you plead?”

     “Not guilty, Your Honor.”

     “Because of the seriousness of this crime, bail is denied.  The trial will be set for two months from today.”

     In an awkward series of movements, mother shoved us out of the bench toward the front of the courtroom.  She was dragging David behind her.  She pushed us all the way to where my father was still standing.  He reached down and hugged me.  Christi stayed back from the short wall that separated us from my father. 

     “Don’t worry about your daddy, baby, everything is going to be fine,” he said in my ear.  Then he reached up to mother and hugged her; then hugged David.

     “What are we going to do?” mother asked him.  I could see the worry and torment on her face.

     “Don’t worry about it.  I got everything handled.  You just get these kids somewhere and stay there until this is all over with.  I’ll get out of this.  Everything’s gonna to be fine.”  He said all this with confidence and assured mother that it was really going to be fine. 

     After the hearing we were separated.  Christi didn’t want to have anything to do with daddy because she was still mad at him for beating her the last time she saw him, and several times before that.  Mother sent Christi down to Riverside where she stayed with Grandmother Debbie until the end of the trial.  She didn’t say she ever minded but I knew that uncle’s treatment towards children was just as unfavorable as Aunt Ann’s and he was living with Grandmother at the time to help her.  In the end, she really didn’t have a choice so she kept any complaints to herself.

     David was oblivious to anything that was going on and just wanted to bounce around pretending he was “Tigger” all the time.  “T-I-double guh-er,” he would say just like Tigger did on Winnie-the-Poo.  He stayed with mother because she still feared he would stop breathing in his sleep like he did when he was a baby.

     I was thrilled to hear that I would be with my grandma and grandpa.  They lived in Fremont, close to where we used to live on the walnut ranch before daddy was gone.  They weren’t actually my grandparents, but I called them that because they were the closest thing that I had.  Grandma was actually my babysitter from the time I was three weeks old.  I was there more often than I was at home and I was lucky for it.  Grandpa was a truck driver and that’s how we met them.  Grandpa even worked for daddy for a little while, but nobody would be working for daddy now.  They had several children that were mostly grown so they enjoyed having me around to keep them busy.  Auntie Sarah, their second youngest daughter, would take me out with her everywhere she went and tell people that I was hers.  She once even talked about adopting me, but she knew daddy would never allow it.  She was in her early twenties and unmarried.  She would take me out on dates with her boyfriend to dinner and drive in movies.  I always fell asleep before we would return home and her date would have to carry me out of her white Trans-Am into the house and on to the couch to sleep.  Frank was always my favorite because he was the nicest and he was the one Auntie Sarah eventually married.

     I lost track of time of how long I had been living with them.  I knew that daddy’s trial had already started because sometimes mother would call and I could hear grandma talking to her about it.  Grandma would listen to mother and respond with concern and then tell her that she needed to get me in school somewhere.  I didn’t even know which grade I was supposed to be in anymore.  It hadn’t been a whole year yet because Christmas hadn’t come around yet.  Then one day grandma was putting me into the hideous plaid dress again.

     “Your mother will be here any minute, Stephie” she rushed me around the steam-filled bathroom.  My hair wasn’t long anymore because I wouldn’t keep it brushed so that eliminated some of my dressing time.  Ugh.  Not that ugly dress, I thought.  It went over my head and grandma fastened the pearl-like buttons up the front.  I hated the dress even more now because I knew it meant that mother was coming to pick me up and take me to that courthouse again.  I was happy that I would get to see daddy but if it was going to be like last time then I would rather stay here.

     I walked into the living room just in time to hear the Mustang growl into the driveway.  A few seconds later the front door flung open.  “Let’s go!” mother said.

     “She’s almost ready, Dawn, give me a second to get her shoes on,” grandma replied to her hastiness.

     “Effie, we don’t have time for that right now.  Stephanie, get your shoes and get in the car.  You can put them on inside.”  I kissed grandma good-bye and did as I was told.

     Christi and David were already in the car.  I was usually the last one to get picked up because I was the closest to everything in town.  The courthouse must have been close because the car ride was always short from grandma’s house.  I slid my shoes on and sat quietly with David in the backseat. 
     “Now that you are all in the car, I will tell you want is going on so I don’t have to repeat myself,” mother said.  “Your father was found guilty yesterday, which means he is going away on a vacation,” she continued. 

     “A vacation?” Christi questioned.  She was too smart for that lame explanation.

     “He’s going to prison,” mother snapped back at her.  “I didn’t want to say it like that in front of your brother and sister.”

     “Oh,” she replied. 

      She didn’t care.  David didn’t seem to care either.  His expression didn’t even change.  He just sat there, emotionless.  I knew about prison because grandma and grandpa talked to me about it while I was with them so I would be prepared for what might happen and understand if daddy didn’t come back.  I doubt David even knew what mother was talking about so I could forgive him for not caring.  

     The Mustang pulled into the parking lot on the south side of the courthouse.  Mother rushed the three of us out of the car and down the sidewalk.  We were always rushing because mother was always running late.  Before I knew it we were standing in front of those judging doors again.  They seemed to be mocking me now because they already knew my father wasn’t coming back. 

     “Mrs. Salvitori, you are running late again,” the bailiff said.  Apparently, he knew her pretty well by now.  He walked us to our seats again in the same bench, on the same side of the courtroom.  The sun’s glare had shifted to a different part of the room now.  The sun was shining up closer to daddy and illuminating the men dressed in suits sitting at a table across from his.  At least it wasn’t blinding me and Christi this time.  The courtroom still smelled the same and it was that smell that distracted me when I heard the judge’s familiar voice.

     “Mr. Salvitori, when examining all the evidence that has been presented before me I find that the act you committed was done intentionally and completely without remorse or consideration of the repercussions.  Counterfeiting is a serious crime and it will not be tolerated by the Federal Government or the State of California, and I must say that the extent of your crime is severe enough that I am compelled to impose a higher sentence upon you to ensure this act is not committed with such disregard again.  Please stand for sentencing.”

     My father stood.

     “Mr. Salvitori, I am hereby sentencing you to ten years confinement to be carried out in a Federal Corrections Institution and fines of two hundred fifty thousand dollars.  You have the right to consult with your attorney about your charges and sentencing.  Do you understand your rights?”

     “Yes, Your Honor,” my father replied.

      Then it was over.  I got to say a quick good-bye again, as I dreaded when I left grandma’s house and away he went.  He looked back at us and smiled a sad smile.  I noticed that among the black curly locks on his head, there were some grey strands popping up randomly.  He even seemed shorter than usual.  Mother was always taller than her Italian husband, but he seemed almost miniature now.  We were escorted out of the courtroom and the judging doors were closed behind us.  I looked up at them one last time and the tears welled up in my eyes and spilled out all over the marble courthouse floor.    
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