OK, so that's the beginning.
And--
[CLAPPING]
And what happens by the end of the chapter,
he persuades Bonnie to take him back
to Meyer Maslow, the head of the organization's office.
And there's-- and the chapter ends with a kind of creepy
little scene in which Meyer rolls up his sleeve and shows
him his camp numbers, and makes Nolan roll up his sleeve
and show him his Waffen bolts and they have a sort of silent
game of dueling tattoos, really.
At the end of which Maslow agrees to let
Nolan work for them.
And what Nolan says is I want to help you guys save guys like me
from becoming guys like me.
So in other words, he's volunteering
to be a sort of outreach worker to help
convert other neo-Nazis.
So and also by the end of the chapter,
Nolan has, Maslow has talked Bonnie
into essentially adopting Nolan and taking
him home to her house in the suburbs
where she lives with her two teenage children.
And the next section, the next and last section
I'm going to read is written from the point
of view of Danny, Bonnie's older son who's 16.
And I think there's nothing else you
need to know except for the dueling tattoos moment which
is referred to.
"What's strange is that Danny isn't
more surprised to come home and find some geek cleaning
his nasty tattooed arms all over the kitchen table.
It's as if he's been expecting it.
In fact, it hasn't been that long
since he and Max saw that Chandler
show about the former skinhead working
with the famous Nazi hunter in California.
Danny remembers telling Max--" Oh, Max is the younger brother,
sorry, he's 13.
"Danny remembers telling Max, "trust me
it won't be long until mom and Meyer get a Nazi of their own."
Now, Danny gives his brother a look, did I call this or what?
But Max has already left his body,
vacated as he tends to do in tricky family situations.
"Boys, this is Vincent Nolan.
He's come to work with Brotherhood Watch.
He'll be staying with us for a few days
until he gets his own place."
Danny says, "mom can I talk to you?"
Six words practically guaranteed to make her start
hyperventilating.
"In a minute, honey.
Vincent, this is Max.
That's Danny.
Danny, Vincent.
Max, Vincent."
Mom comes up for air.
Max rolls his eyes at Danny.
Does Max know what those tattoos mean?
Danny is often shocked by the gaps in his brother's
basic knowledge.
"Mom," says Max, "take a deep breath, chill.
Say it again."
It's one of those annoying things
that Max says to mom when she's wound tight and ready to snap.
And mom listens.
She obeys.
She gets all girly and smiles and repeats herself
more slowly.
Normally, Danny resents the inside jokes Max shares
with their mother.
What makes it even more annoying tonight
is that Max is too young to know to skip the chintzy family
humor in front of the guy with the death's head and Waffen SS
bolts on his arm.
Obediently, mom pauses, exhales, "boys, Vincent Nolan, he's
come to work--" "Hi," says Danny, cutting it short.
"This is Danny," says mom, "did I say that?"
Vincent Nolan acknowledges him with a nod
that's more like a spasm.
Has mom not noticed that her new friend
is Timothy McVeigh's clone?"
Oh, the book takes place in the month
before the McVeigh execution.
"What the hell is mom thinking, inventing some demented tweaker
to stay here until one night high on crystal meth
he figures out that they're Satanists
and God needs him to hack them up and stash them
in the freezer.
How ridiculous that mom's not concerned
about bringing this maniac home when she worries
about every little thing.
Danny fears that obsessive worry is an inherited trait.
Danny and Max keep sneaking glances at the tattoos
until mom catches them looking.
"You guys should have been there.
The most amazing thing happened.
Meyer rolled up his sleeves and put his tattoo,
you know the numbers from the concentration camp near
Vincent's.
And it was so moving seeing them together like that."
"It was something," the skinhead agrees.
The thought makes Danny want to puke.
Meyer and Vincent's tattoos, tattoos
in generals gross him out.
Though, his friend Chloe has an eyeball on her shoulder blade
that winks when she twitches her back.
Just this morning in homeroom, Danny
longed to reach out and touch it.
Danny doesn't like Meyer.
He's one of those guys who don't have kids
and thinks kids are a waste of time.
He can never remember which one is Danny and which one is Max
but he fakes it as long as mama's around.
"What grade are you in?"
"How do you like school?"
Mainly, Danny doesn't like how mom does whatever Meyer tells
her, how she's always quoting the guy,
"Meyer says this" "Meyer says that."
Meyer could be David Koresh, the Jewish Charlie Manson.
Danny blames it on the divorce.
Mom needs to be deprogrammed.
Naturally, some part of him admires what Meyer does.
Even Danny has to admit that Meyer
is trying to do good in the world
and make a positive difference.
But whenever Danny tries to tell his friends what
the foundation is about, sending aid to global trouble spots,
keeping tabs on hate groups at home, getting guys sprung
from jail, it sounds like such a downer,
he's sorry he brought it up.
Mom says what Danny knew she'd say, "where were you guys just
now?"
"Does it matter?", asked Danny.
"Danny, sweetheart, I've told you don't answer
a question with a question."
"All right, we were out."
Danny wants to answer to make this easy on her
but it's as if he's possessed by a demon insisting
that his independence and self-respect depend
on giving her maximum attitude and minimum information.
"Out where?", mom's determined to drag out the big
interrogation.
"Mom, we were playing basketball in the grade schoolyard."
"Thank you, Max," says mom, "was that so hard?"
"Whatever," Danny says.
"Anybody hungry?", says mom.
"I could eat," says the Nazi.
"Sure I guess," Danny says, "no Chinese."
"I was thinking Chinese," mom says.
"We had it last night," Danny points out.
The most irritating thing is she's so nervous she forgot.
You'd think the guy was a visiting rock star.
It's how she acts around Meyer.
Even though his mom and dad fought a lot
before the divorce, at least they
were comfortable with each other like normal screwed up
grown ups. "Then maybe we should go out."
Mom's voice has that wispy tremble
it gets when she can't cope and makes Danny and Max decide.
They're certainly not going out.
Danny would rather starve to death than run into someone
he knows.
By second period tomorrow, it'll be all over school
that Danny was having lunch with a skinhead.
By lunch, they'll be saying the guy's
Danny's mom's new boyfriend.
"Pizza," says Max, "call."
"Sure," says Danny, "why not?"
"Will pizza be enough?"
"Fine with me," the Nazi says.
Simple.
Mom picks up the phone.
"What about toppings?
Anything you don't eat?"
"Nuts," says Vincent, "any kind of nuts.
I'm fatally allergic.
I wind up in the hospital.
I nearly died several times."
"God," says mom, "how scary!"
Danny says, "I guess that kind of rules
out the peanut butter pizza."