"As we know,
there are known knowns. There are things we know we know. There are also known
unknowns, that is to say, we know there are some things we do not know."
he’s taking, I want some of that; make my drink the same way as his. The first time I heard it, that’s what I thought. “Known knowns" and "unknowns”. Damn. We’re in
trouble. That’s the next thing I thought.
the longer I thought about "knowns" and "unknowns", the more sense it made. John
Lennon, by way of example. I cried and I cried when John Lennon died; John Lennon’s death came out of the blue.
and I cried when Kurt Cobain died too. But that was a “known” that I knew. The way that he lived was the way that he went. I was sad, but I wasn’t surprised.
to live next door to the Thompsons. William and Lydia. An elderly couple. She wore silver glasses and had silver hair. He was a big guy and had silver hair too, and they
were both quiet, and kind.
would bake cookies and bring them next door. Sometimes I went over there. Their porch had an awning, it was cool in the summer. He and I used to sit and drink Pepsi.
had a grandson and his name was Darren. Every so often, Darren would stay at
his grandparents’ house. I hated Darren. We all hated Darren. Me and the rest
of the kids on my street. I had these two fish in a clear glass bowl. Lucy and Schroder. Siamese fighting fish I won at the fair.
brought them outside to show to my friends. Darren walked up, took the bowl
from my hands. He dropped it. It smashed. Lucy and Schroder sputtered and
flopped. There was glass everywhere, he laughed and said, sorry. Then Darren
stomped on poor Lucy’s head.
Darren. We all hated Darren. Me and the rest of the kids on my street. But we
loved the Thompsons. She made us cookies. He gave us Pepsi. We tried to be nice
for their sake.
afternoon when I came home from school, the buses were gone, there were cop cars instead. Darren sat, stone-faced, in the backseat of one; in the house
next to mine, the Thompsons were dead.
It’s unknown to me where Darren is now. I only know he was caught. "Known
knowns” and “unknowns”. Damn. We’re in trouble. I know that’s the first thing I
cried and I cried when John Lennon died. I cried when Kurt Cobain died too. I
cried for the Thompsons and sometimes I wonder, did they really know what they