Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

my mom.” “And?” “Isn't that enough?” “It is. It's more than enough. And now let me ask you, how do you think you're going to accomplish those things you mentioned?” “I'm gonna bury my feelings deep inside me.” “What do you mean, bury your feelings?” “No matter how much I feel, I'm not going to let it out. If I have to cry, I'm gonna cry on the inside. If I have to bleed, I'll bruise. If my heart starts going crazy, I'm not gonna tell everyone in the world about it. It doesn't help anything. It just makes everyone's life worse.” “But if you're burying your feelings deep inside you, you won't really be you, will you?” “So?” “Can I ask you one last question?” “Was that it?” “Do you think any good can come from your father's death?” “Do I think any good can come from my father's death?” “Yes. Do you think any good can come from your father's death?” I kicked over my chair, threw his papers across the floor, and hollered, “No! Of course not, you fucking asshole!”
    That was what I wanted to do. Instead I just shrugged my shoulders.
    I went out to tell Mom it was her turn. She asked me how it went. I said, “OK.” She said, “Your magazines are in my bag. And a juice box.” I said, “Thanks.” She bent down and kissed me.
    When she went in, I very quietly took the stethoscope from my field kit, got on my knees, and pressed the whatever-the-end-is-called against the door. The bulb? Dad would have known. I couldn't hear a lot, and sometimes I wasn't sure if no one was talking or if I just wasn't hearing what they were saying.
    expect too much too quickly
    I know you?
    What me?
    you doing?
    I'm not the point.
    Until you're feeling to be impossible for Oskar to
    But until he's feeling it's to feel OK. don't know. a problem. you?
    I don't don't know? hours and hours to explain. you try to start?
    Start easy do you happy?
    What's funny? used to be someone me a question, and I could say yes, or but believe in short answers anymore.
    Maybe the wrong questions. Maybe to remind there are simple things.
    What's simple?
    How many fingers holding up?
    It's not that simple
    I want to talk that's not going to be easy. you ever considered
    What? what it sounds like. even a hospital, in the way we usually think safe environment. home is a safe environment.
    Who the hell do you think you are?
    I'm sorry. to be sorry for. You're angry. it's not you that angry
    Who are you angry at? good for children to be around going through the same process.
    Oskar isn't other children. even like being around kids his own age. a good thing?
    Oskar is Oskar, and no one that's a wonderful thing.
    I'm worried that to himself.
    I can't believe we're talking about this. talk about everything, realize there was no reason to talk
    danger to himself?
    I'm concerned about. indications of a child absolutely no way hospitalize my son.
    We were quiet on the car ride home. I turned on the radio and found a station playing “Hey Jude.” It was true, I didn't want to make it bad. I wanted to take the sad song and make it better. It's just that I didn't know how.
    After dinner, I went up to my room. I took the box out of the closet, and the box out of the box, and the bag, and the unfinished scarf, and the phone.
    Message four. 9:46 A.M. It's Dad. Thomas Schell. It's Thomas Schell. Hello? Can you hear me? Are you there? Pick up. Please! Pick up. I'm underneath a table. Hello? Sorry. I have a wet napkin wrapped around my face. Hello? No. Try the other. Hello? Sorry. People are getting crazy. There's a helicopter circling around, and. I think we're going to go up onto the roof. They say there's going to be some. Sort of evacuation—I don't know, try that one—they say there's going to be some sort of evacuation from up there, which makes sense if. The helicopters can get close enough. It makes sense. Please pick up. I don't know. Yeah, that one. Are you there? Try that one.
    Why didn't he say goodbye?
    I gave myself a bruise.
    Why didn't he say “I love you”?
    Wednesday was boring.
    Thursday was boring.
    Friday was also boring, except that it was Friday, which meant it was almost Saturday, which meant I was that much closer to the lock, which was happiness.

WHY I'M NOT WHERE YOU ARE 4/12/78
    THE SIXTH BOROUGH
    “Once upon a time, New York City had a sixth borough.” “What's a borough?” “That's what I call an interruption.” “I know, but the story won't make any sense to me if I don't know what