3
" Cal: "I'm really sorry, Professor, but how do you explain these ? Swiss Cake Rolls. That doesn't rhyme; it's not cute; it's not childlike. And this is one of our most-respected snack foods, is it not? How is that, Professor? Hmmm?"
Eliot: "Well, isn't it obvious? We trust the Swiss for their ability to engineer things, to build with precision."
Cal: "We do?"
Eliot: "Do I even have to mention Swiss watches? Swiss Army knives? Swiss cheese? If anyone can build a non-threatening, non-lethal snack cake, it's the Swiss. They're neutral, we can trust them not to attack us with trans-fatty acids and sugar. I think you would feel differently if they were German Cake Rolls. North Korean Cake Rolls. I bet you wouldn't eat them."
Cal: "I bet I would. "
― Brad Barkley , Scrambled Eggs at Midnight
5
" Eliot, huh?" she says. The thin fabric of her long T-shirt brushes my arm. "Is everyone in your family named for a famous symbolist poet?"
No, I'm named for someone who was supposed to be in the Bible but isn't."
No? What happened to him?"
I glance over at her, the way the corner of her mouth turns up, half-smirk, half-smile. Her hair moves as she walks.
He was called to be a disciple, but he had, you know, stuff to do."
Stuff, like...polishing his sandals? Making lunch?"
We keep walking, over the bridge across the lake, past the swings and the playground equipment, just walking.
Exactly. And what about you, Calliope...is everyone in your family named after a...what is it? A keyboard? An organ?"
It's a steam-powered piano. It's also the name of the Greek goddess of poetry. You should read stuff other than chemistry; you'd know these things." Her smirky smile again, her sleeve touching my arm.
I feel like my skin has been removed, every nerve exposed. I open my mouth, and this comes out: "I think you are more goddess than piano." Stupid, stupid.
But she laughs. "You know, that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me today."
You don't see too many calliopes," I tell her.
I'm Cal, actually. I mean, that's what I prefer."
I meant the steam pianos...you don't see too many." She stops and looks at me, full-on, and right away I put it on the list of the best moments in my life.
Until you said that, Eliot, I wasn't fully aware of the demise of the steam piano, so thank you. Really."
I smirk at her and we both fight not to smile. "Okay, smart-ass," I say. "
― Brad Barkley , Scrambled Eggs at Midnight
7
" She looked like she believed in something, or wanted to, and I hoped to hell it wasn’t God, not in the way The Dad believes, because all that does is make him forced and desperate. No, it was something else, not just that I saw a pretty girl and just got all excited. I mean, yeah, that part is true, and she really was gorgeous, and the freckles covering her, the freckles on top of freckles all spread out and folding into one another made her skin look like it had grain and texture, like polished wood, like it would feel smooth to the touch, and so soft. I knew that. But it wasn’t how she looked. "
― Brad Barkley , Scrambled Eggs at Midnight
8
" I know the mall is just a lot of fake plants and fake food and people buying crap for too much money, and at Christmas people pay for their kids to talk to Santa, learning greed the way some kids learn piano. I know all that. I can hear the Muzak, smell the waffle fries. Like everybody else, I walk around stuck inside a cliche, like we're stars of some TV show we plan to watch later, if nothing else is on. But still, there's something hopeful about this place, too, and maybe it takes having a crazy mother to get that. People buy stuff, because they think they are going to need it, because they think their lives are going to keep skipping down the same old path, and I want so much for that to be true for them that it nearly makes me cry. The mall says, Nothing is terrible. The mall says, Life is small and adequate. "
― Brad Barkley , Jars of Glass
9
" You can tell all of us are morphing into full-blown adults, wingtip adults, because all the time now the Big Question is, What are you going to do? After the summer, about your scholarship, about choosing a college, after graduation, with the rest of your life. When you are thirteen, the question is, Smooth or crunchy? That's it. Later, at the onset of full-blown adulthood, the Big Question changes a little bit - instead of, What are you going to do? it turns into, What do you do? I hear it all the time when my parents have parties, all the men standing around. After they talk sports, they always ask, What do you do? It's just part of the code that they mean "for a living" because no one ever answers it by saying, I go for walks and listen to music full-blast and don't care about my hearing thirty years from now, and I drink milk out of the carton, and I cough when someone lights up a cigarette, and I dig rainy days because they make me sad in a way I like, and I read books until I fall asleep holding them, and I put on sock-shoe, sock-shoe instead of sock-sock, shoe-shoe because I think it's better luck. Never that. People are always in something. I'm in advertising. I'm in real estate. I'm in sales and marketing. "
― Brad Barkley , Jars of Glass
12
" I pu my finger to her lips. "You have to hush a minute so that I can tell you something."
"What?" she says, bites my finger.
I look at her. "I love you."
She gets quiet, the kind of quiet that sinks into her, softens her. "Well that works out," she finally says, her voice deeper and breathless, her eyes moist, "because I love you too." She turns, leans against my arm, and settles into me. "
― Brad Barkley , Scrambled Eggs at Midnight