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Chuck Klosterman - Raised in Captivity: Fictional Nonfiction

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Chuck Klosterman Raised in Captivity: Fictional Nonfiction
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Microdoses of the straight dope, stories so true they had to be wrapped in fiction for our own protection, from the best-selling author ofBut What if Were Wrong?
A man flying first class discovers a puma in the lavatory. A new coach of a small-town Oklahoma high school football team installs an offense comprised of only one, very special, play. A man explains to the police why he told the employee of his local bodega that his colleague looked like the lead singer of Depeche Mode, a statement that may or may not have led in some way to a violent crime. A college professor discusses with his friend his difficulties with the new generation of students. An obscure power pop band wrestles with its new-found fame when its song Blizzard of Summer becomes an anthem for white supremacists. A couple considers getting a medical procedure that will transfer the pain of childbirth from the woman to her husband. A woman interviews a hit man about killing her husband but is shocked by the method he proposes. A man is recruited to join a secret government research team investigating why coin flips are no longer exactly 50/50. A man sees a whale struck by lightning, and knows that everything about his life has to change. A lawyer grapples with the unintended side effects of a veterinarians rabies vaccination.
Fair warning:Raised in Captivitydoes not slot into a smooth preexisting groove. If Saul Steinberg and Italo Calvino had adopted a child from a Romanian orphanage and raised him on Gary Larsen and Thomas Bernhard, he would still be nothing like Chuck Klosterman. They might be good company, though. Funny, wise and weird in equal measure,Raised in Captivitybids fair to be one of the most original and exciting story collections in recent memory, a fever graph of our deepest unvoiced hopes, fears and preoccupations. Ceaselessly inventive, hostile to corniness in all its forms, and mean only to the things that really deserve it, it marks a cosmic leap forward for one of our most consistently interesting writers.

Chuck Klosterman: author's other books


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Also by CHUCK KLOSTERMAN Fiction Downtown Owl The Visible Man Nonfiction - photo 1
Also by CHUCK KLOSTERMAN

Fiction

Downtown Owl

The Visible Man

Nonfiction

Fargo Rock City: A Heavy Metal Odyssey in Rural North Dakota

Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto

Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story

Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas

Eating the Dinosaur

I Wear the Black Hat: Grappling with Villains (Real and Imagined)

But What If Were Wrong? Thinking About the Present As If It Were the Past

Chuck Klosterman X: A Highly Specific, Defiantly Incomplete History of the Early 21st Century

PENGUIN PRESS An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC penguinrandomhousecom - photo 2

PENGUIN PRESS

An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

penguinrandomhouse.com

Copyright 2019 by Charles Klosterman

Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Klosterman, Chuck, 1972- author.

Title: Raised in captivity : fictional nonfiction / Chuck Klosterman.

Description: New York : Penguin Press, 2019.

Identifiers: LCCN 2018038237 (print) | LCCN 2018047295 (ebook) | ISBN 9780735217942 (ebook) | ISBN 9780735217928 (hardcover)

Classification: LCC PS3611.L67 (ebook) | LCC PS3611.L67 A6 2019 (print) | DDC 813/.6--dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018038237

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents
Raised in Captivity

It was better than anticipated, at least for the first twenty minutes. Not $1,200 better, because thats impossible. But still: Hot towels for the jowls. Enough territory to extend your entire left leg into the aisle without fear of sanction or reprisal. A glass of orange juice while still at the gate, served in a glass made of glass. He thought to himself, I could get used to this. But that thought was a lie. He would never get used to this, even if it became the only way he traveled anywhere. The experience would never seem unremarkable. It would always feel gratuitous in the best possible way.

Would he read a novel or watch a movie? Maybe neither. The chair was so supple, perhaps hed just sit there and stare robotically ahead, fixated on the degree to which he wasnt uncomfortable. There was Wi-Fi in the cabin. Maybe hed send a group email to all his old high school chums, playfully bragging about the altitude from which the message had been sent. His friends didnt understand his job, but they would understand that. He couldnt tell them what his salary was, but he could show them how his company treated its employees. That might scan as pompous, of course. It might make him seem like a bit of a douche, and he didnt aspire to become the kind of person hed always been conditioned to hate. But he was proud of himself, maybe for the first time. His life had changed, and this was proof.

He asked the attendant about the flights duration. She estimated just over three hours. He got up to use the lavatory, delighted by the absence of a line. He wondered if it would be different from the restrooms in coachlarger, perhaps, or cleaner. And it was. It was slightly larger and slightly cleaner. But he barely noticed those details, because it also included a puma.

He immediately closed the door and returned to his seat.

For a solid seventy seconds, he considered doing nothing at all. Dont panic. Dont choke. Theres no way what you think you saw could possibly be the thing that it is. He reached down into his leather satchel and felt around for his book. His father had once told him that the key to life was an ability to ignore other peoples imaginary problems. But he wasnt sure to whom this particular problem belonged, or if it was real or imaginary, or if his father had ever considered what that advice actually implied.

He again got up from his seat and walked to the lavatory. He cracked the door two inches ajar, enough for the automatic light to illuminate. He peered into the tiny room. There it was, sitting on the lid of the toilet, looking back with an empty intensity that matched his own.

He closed the door and returned to his seat.

Seeing the puma a second time did not prompt the internal reaction hed anticipated. He was, for whatever reason, a bit ambivalent. On the one hand, he was trapped in a contained space with a two-hundred-pound cat. On the other hand, at least the puma was truly there. If the lavatory had been empty, it would have meant he was hallucinating. Better to be a noncrazy person in peril than a crazy person who was safe. He turned to the passenger sitting to his immediate right, an older man in a pinstriped suit who was drinking his second martini.

Excuse me, he said to the gentleman in 2D. This is going to sound bizarre, but... have you used the restroom on this flight?

No, said the man. Why do you ask?

I dont know how to explain this, he began, almost murmuring. I dont even know how this happened, or what this means, or what youre supposed to do with the information Im about to give you. Part of me thinks I shouldnt even tell you this, although I dont know why I would think that, since Im sure this is something youll want to know. None of this makes sense. None of it. But I just got up and went to the lavatory, twice. And both times, when I opened the door, there was a puma in the bathroom.

A puma?

Yes. I realize how insane that must sound. Im sorry.

A puma? In the bathroom?

Yes.

A cougar.

Yes.

A mountain lion.

Yes. Sure. A mountain lion.

A catamount.

What? I dont know. Maybe. Yes?

The older man in the pinstriped suit leaned across 2C, dipping his head into the aisle. His hair smelled like rubbing alcohol and coconut water. He studied the closed restroom door. It looked like a door. He resituated himself back in his chair, straightened his jacket by the lapels, and took a quick sip of his translucent beverage. His hands and feet were massive, too big for his frame.

Let me ask you something, the older man said. And dont take this the wrong way. Im not being judgmental. Im drinking gin in the middle of the morning. Im no priest. And you dont seem like a kid on drugs. But tell me if youre on drugs. We just left California. I get it.

Im not on drugs, he replied.

Not even the prescription variety? Lexapro? Valium?

No. Nothing.

Any history of mental illness? Again, no offense intended.

No, and Im not offended.

The two men looked into each others eyes, hunching their shoulders and leaning closer. The interaction adopted a conspiratorial tone. They spoke in stage whispers. The other passengers barely noticed and didnt care.

Tell me this, said the older man. What are your theories?

My theories?

In terms of how this could have happened.

I have no idea, the younger man said. I have no theories.

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