"I'm a sweating fat kid standing on the edge of the subway platform staring at the tracks. I'm seventeen years old, weigh 296 pounds, and I'm six foot one. I have a crew cut, yes a crew cut, sallow skin, and the kind of mouth that puckers when I breathe. I'm wearing a shirt that reads MIAMI BEACH--SPRING BREAK 1997, and huge, bland tan pants--the only kind of pants I own. Eight pairs, all tan."
As this head-bashing-yet-really-sweet-tale hits its first screeching chord progression, seventeen year-old Troy Billings contemplates jumping in front of an approaching subway train. A once average-sized child, he has eaten his way through years of depression after the death of his mother. Raised by his father, who is a retired military officer, and having experienced unrelenting contempt from a younger brother, who is a popular jock, Troy is certain that everyone is constantly eyeing him and laughing.
"First, the train is coming, its single headlight illuminating the dark tracks. I hear its deep rumble and take the fateful step forward. I want to picture myself flying dramatically through the air but realize I wouldn't have the muscle power to launch my body. Instead, I would plummet straight down. Maybe I wouldn't even get my other leg off the platform--my weight would pull me down like an anchor. That's how I see it."
But Troy does not jump. Or plummet. His plans are rudely interrupted by the "disembodied voice" of a skinny teenager--Curt MacCrae--who is sitting in the dark behind him.
"He looks like a blond ferret. Stringy unwashed hair and huge eyes, jeans that are barely recognizable, stained white T-shirt, huge red overshirt, ratty old sweater...The sneakers, one Converse and one Nike, are both untied and the layers are all partially buttoned even though it's got to be one hundred degrees in the subway. The guy is so filthy I can hardly look at him. I mean, he's caked--looks like an old war victim from some black and white film."
Curt, this majorly poor example of good hygiene, is a homeless, locally legendary punk guitarist who disappeared from the high school Troy attends. He is also a walking pharmacy. (He believes in self-inflicted health care.) Curt demands lunch from Troy for saving his life, and then informs the enormous young man that he, Troy, is to be the drummer in Curt's new band--a duo named Rage/Tectonic. That Troy has not played the drums since junior high is irrelevant--at least to Curt.
As Troy tries to conceive of a different self-image for himself and tries to overcome his paralyzing fears of what he believes everyone else is thinking of him, Curt's dicey health and his dicey relationship with Troy's dad and brother Dayle kept me alternately holding my breath and laughing so hard that I could barely catch it. Though much of Curt's on-the-fringe lifestyle remains an enigma to both Troy and to us, we do get vivid glimpses of the grunge and the glamor associated with being a teenage punk musician.
" 'You are punk rock, T. You just don't know it yet, and I don't know how to convince you.' "
FAT KID RULES THE WORLD is totally phat! While the joyfulness and quirkiness of the story and the body image issue may allow for grouping this book with some others you've read before, K. L. Going is truly a new voice on the YA scene.
Richie Partington ...
