Vonnegut's Lost Short Story: "God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater"

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater

I remember it like a man remembers both his very first fight and blow job. It was sixth grade, recess. Come to think about it, what exactly is recess? I never really understood the why it wasn’t called “get the hyper out” or “everything you ever needed to know about sex: monkey bars.”

It was spring. Very hot. Rosewater County had some of the hottest springs north of Tijuana or Guatemala or, really, any country that’s hot and ends with an “A.” Just weeks prior to the most memorable find of the year was the previous champion of findings: used napkins and a used condom. We found them over by the back baseball field, a field rarely used except during recess.

Near what would have been the bullpen on any other field, there was this unusual breast-shaped lump of earth that was adorned with tall weeds. It served as a make-believe fort during many recesses, yet, at that particular moment, it was as if we were witness to a crime scene with the level of investigation that was occurring.

Our fort had been destroyed; the teenagers had defiled our sacred space with carnal lust. What was so innocent to us had been permanently changed. However traumatic the event, we checked that spot ever single day, sometimes twice, just in case the mysterious couple snuck onto campus and screwed during English or math.

It had been so long since the “napkins and condom incident” that we could nearly go five minutes without mentioning it. It was Thursday. We were complaining about running the mile in gym class when Todd stumbled upon what would be the holy grail of finds for the year: field porn. We figured it blew in from the yard of the Rosewater mansion. The Rosewaters had donated the land in order to, as my mother said, “Buy a piece of history and plague this county even more.” That day, Mr. Rosewater donated far more than land and money, he donated porn.

Jason was there too. It took all three of us to figure out that the girl was naked under the banana split that was between her legs. Right dead center between them. There was even a cherry on top. We really didn’t look at the banana split too long due to her distracting breasts. Distracting in a good way. Perfectly distracting really, the kinds that make you want to masturbate for hours upon hours upon hours.

We fought over who got to take it home. Todd won. After all, he found it. It’s a good thing he did win; he got caught with it before the end of the day and he had to call his mother and spill his guts. Fortunately, for me and Jason, he didn’t include us in his confession. That’s what real men do; they lie, covet porn, and masturbate.