Tangerine

“The scenery was not what I had expected at all, and I stared out the window, fascinated by it. We passed mile after mile of green fields overflowing with tomatoes and onions and watermelons.”

Paul’s very first experience of Florida reveals his affinity for the natural world and for organic growth. He is “fascinated” by the fields of crops, which will later transfer to his affinity for the Cruz family tangerine groves. It is no wonder that he views the suburban developments with skepticism, with their fake lakes (“Lake” Windsor is merely a pond) and pretentious nomenclature (in addition to Lake Windsor, there are the Manors of Coventry and the Villas at Versailles).

“Then I started thinking about a zombie, a pissed-off zombie. Dragging one foot behind him. Keeping to the right. Taking his time. Slowly, surely, stalking his way down Interstate 10.”

Again, the image of the zombie, shambling inextricably toward Paul and his family evokes an enduring yet unrecovered memory that will eventually overtake them: The horrific truth about Paul’s loss of vision. Paul is stalked by an uneasy feeling that, even though the Fisher family has left Houston behind, unfinished business haunts them.

“There will be no football glory in Mike Costello’s future. But does Mike, or his father, really care? They certainly don’t care the way Dad and Erik do.”

The “Erik Fisher Football Dream” haunts the family, just as the zombie does, and spares nobody the consequences. Paul observes that this all-consuming, obsessive behavior is not the norm, even among football families. He intuits what is different—and damaged—about his own family dynamic. Dad (and Mom, to a lesser degree) will overlook Erik’s unacceptable attitude and behavior in the service of this unrequited dream.

“It occurred to me, as we unpacked the things that are Florida, that Mom might actually hate moving here. But of course she will never tell me about it. […] Mom would never waste time complaining. Just like she would never waste her time worrying about the past.”

Just as Dad literally looks the other way when Erik strikes Tino in the backyard, Mom is also implicated in Erik’s deplorable behavior. Indeed, the reader ultimately discovers that both parents knew of Erik’s cruelty toward Paul—with immense and lasting consequences—but chose not to speak about it. This contributes to a family dynamic that is rooted in deception and willful blindness; Paul, with his impaired vision, sees this more clearly than the rest of the family.

“It occurred to me that I have never lived in a development that was finished. I have always lived with overflowing construction Dumpsters and portable toilets sitting on boards.”

As a civic engineer, Dad travels to different towns to plan and execute their development; thus, the family moves often, usually to places that are in need of completion. The unfinished nature of Paul’s existence also reflects his own coming-of-age journey. He is in the process of constructing his own identity, and in Tangerine, he will come into his own, overcoming his fears, uncovering the truth, and finding a sense of belonging.

“I’m in my room now, at the computer, listening to the sound of Erik kicking a football into a net in the backyard. It’s a short, violent sound, like some big guys holding up some little guy and punching him over and over in the stomach.”

Erik’s propensity for violence looms large over Paul. Paul lives in a constant state of fear of his brother, along with the various henchmen who do his bidding. The “Erik Fisher Football Dream” is suffused with violence, both psychological and physical. While it takes Paul time to understand why he fears his brother so deeply, he lives always on alert as to what Erik might be capable of doing. He also suffers the psychological impact of a father who ignores him—and ignores his elder brother’s misdeeds—in favor of his other son. It is fitting that Erik plays football, an inherently violent sport, while Paul plays soccer.

“I turned to look for Mom. She was still in the garage, on the phone with Dad. She saw none of this. She heard none of this.”

While Erik and Arthur celebrate Mike Costello’s death, Paul is appalled. Again, he notices that both of his parents are occupied when Erik demonstrates his true character; once more, Paul is the only witness to Erik’s inhumane disregard for others.

“I faced down danger today, maybe even death. When disaster struck, we all had to do something. In a way, we all had to become someone. I’m not saying I was a hero. All I did was slide around in the mud and try to pull people up. But I didn’t panic and run, either.”

When Paul and his friend, Joey, spring into action as the portable classrooms slide into the sinkhole, he realizes that contrary to how he feels in his own family, he is quite capable of bravery. In addition, to discover one’s bravery, it is implied, is to discover one’s humanity, one’s identity (“we all had to become someone”). This is Paul’s first step toward becoming his own unique and fully realized self.

“The first floor also has the cafetorium which, obviously doubles as the cafeteria and the auditorium. It’s pretty gross. The cafetorium has a kitchen at the near end and a stage at the far end. In between are rows of wooden tables with wooden folding chairs. It’s loud in there, like in some old prison movie.”

Paul’s assessment of Tangerine Middle reveals the gulf between his suburban privilege and the urban poverty in which the students of Tangerine exist. His reactionary and disturbing connection to prison exposes Paul’s shortsightedness, despite his usual incisive insight.

“I can’t describe how great it is to have another chance. Nothing, nothing at all, is going to bother me.”

Coming on the heels of his discovery about his courage in the face of danger, Paul starts at Tangerine Middle—without the IEP to jeopardize his soccer career. Thus, when he is subjected to some teasing and minor hazing, he simply endures it, and when the coach suggests he might only be a supporting, backup player, he accepts it. Paul shows himself to be flexible and determined at the same time.

“They turned to us and started jeering as we began our lap around the field. I swear some of them spit at us before we made it to the turn and headed toward the far side, the visitors’ side. We could still hear them yelling nasty stuff behind us.”

The way the War Eagles are treated by the spectators from the suburban teams is telling. In part, this harsh response is the result of the talent on the team—the spectators are sore losers—but it is also the likely disparity between the mostly white and wealthy suburban spectators and the diverse, working-class players. The author demonstrates this tension without explicating the reasons behind it.

“I started to get up, but before I could, the fullback stretched out my goggles from my face, scooped up a handful of mud, and smeared it in my eyes. In my eyes! I went berserk!”

Again, this quote demonstrates the tension between the War Eagles and the other teams in the league, their desperation—and discrimination—leading to dirty play. However, the reader is also aware that Paul’s impaired vision is a sore spot for him, emotionally and physically. The subsequent discovery of Erik’s violent actions—forcibly opening Paul’s eyes while paint is sprayed into them—explains Paul’s strong reaction.

“I stared out my window at the back wall. Forget it, Dad. Forget it, Mom. Erik can’t laugh this off. Erik can’t leave this humiliation behind him. Someone has to pay for this. I’m not sure why I’m sure. But I am. Someone has to pay for this.” 

Paul is fully aware of Erik’s penchant for violence and his low threshold for embarrassment. While Paul has not yet uncovered the memory of what Erik did to his eyes, he nevertheless senses Erik’s capacity for cruelty. This ominous warning plays out in the attack on Luis; though it is Antoine Thomas who humiliates Erik, he lashes out at the first vulnerable target. Just as Erik falsely accused Paul of telling on him and his friend, he still must enact his misdirected revenge.

“But Mom could never understand that. For Joey, our house may as well be covered with canvas and bound by ropes, because it’s filled with poison.”

Joey overhears Erik and Arthur making fun of his dead brother, Mike, and he is overwhelmed with anger, sadness, and disgust. Mom wonders why Joey never comes over anymore, but Paul knows how Erik has hurt Joey. He references the other houses in the neighborhood undergoing fumigation for pest control, as his own house is filled with the psychological poison of fear, intimidation, and deception—not to mention the toxicity of an undisciplined and arrogant young man who is never held accountable for his actions.

“This tangerine is seedless, very juicy, and very resistant to cold weather, which makes it perfect for this area. Luis thinks it could even return this area to its former prominence as the tangerine capital of the world.”

The Golden Dawn tangerine is not only symbolic of new beginnings, but it also represents a return to past glory: the revival of an organic legacy that challenges the supremacy of suburbia. The tangerine, unlike Lake Windsor, belongs to the area.

“That hill’s made of dead trees—dead tangerine trees. Termites live in all that wood under the ground, but they got to come up to the surface to get water. That’s where your problems start. If the wood in your house is in their way, they start eating that.”

Not only is the presence of suburbia an artificial imposition on farmland, but it is also endangered by its very dislocation. Wayne, Henry D.’s brother and local pest control proprietor, explains that the foundations of the homes are subject to the invasion of termites. The trees upon which the suburbs are built will also be the potential instrument of their slow demise. Natural processes will trump unnatural incursions.

“It was strange. Very strange. I was driving past the sights that made up my ride to and from school every day. But today I looked at them through the hostile eyes of a War Eagle.”

Paul begins to recognize the privilege of his suburban existence. While he is quick to observe the falseness of these teeming sub-developments, it takes him longer to understand that disparities in wealth—and misguided intentions coupled with unearned entitlement—are what create the very different communities that are Lake Windsor and Tangerine proper. Socioeconomic status determines destiny, at least in part.

“Why couldn’t I tell my own parents about Erik? What was wrong with me? What was wrong with all of us?”

Paul remains ensnared in fear, acting like the prey to Erik’s predator; he is too afraid to speak the truth. Mom and Dad enable the dysfunction in the family to flourish, ignoring Erik’s troubling behavior and keeping the truth of the past hidden. All of the family members are implicated in this wrongdoing; it is a self-perpetuating cycle of deceit and feigned obliviousness.

“The new grove was glistening like an angel on a Christmas tree, lit from within by the light of a diesel generator. Every tree dripped frozen icicles, from the top down to the ground. And the glow of them all together was more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen.”

Paul’s perception of the groves grows ever fonder as he spends more time and expends more energy there. He feels drawn to them from the beginning, with their allure of belonging—they are native to the land, contrary to his Lake Windsor surroundings—and honest labor. Once he works at the grove, first to help with grafting then to save the trees during a freeze, he becomes even more invested in the trees’ survival and their beauty. The reference to angels signifies the purity and sacredness of the groves in Paul’s eyes.

“They drove away leaving that name, Castor, hanging in the air like some horrible apparition, like the key to a lock, like the solution to an unsolved crime.”

Suddenly, Paul is unburdened of the most important memory he has been repressing. Erik’s henchmen, Castor, sprayed white paint into Paul’s eyes as Erik forcibly held open his eyelids; this is how Paul became visually impaired. Remembering becomes the key to unlocking the cage of fear that Paul has been caught in. The truth of what happened to him forces everyone in the family to see everything—Erik’s brutality most of all—clearly for the first time.

“Everybody knows what’s happening. Nobody asks any questions…But now Antoine is the one standing up saying it’s all a lie, so people have to listen.”

The article in the local Tangerine newspaper indicts the community in their collective collusion regarding Antoine Thomas’s spectacular Lake Windsor football career. Because he helps them to win games, the residents of Lake Windsor look the other way regarding his residency and eligibility. Antoine Thomas—like Paul—is one of the few to embrace honesty, no matter the personal cost.

“They agreed, reluctantly, to give Erik and Arthur that second chance. The second chance you get when your parents can guarantee full restitution. The second chance you get when you can kick a fifty-yard field goal.”

When Erik and Arthur are caught burglarizing neighbors’ houses, Dad (and, to a lesser extent, Mom) cajoles the victims into leaving the authorities out of the punishment, ostensibly to save the “Erik Fisher Football Dream.” Paul rightly points out that socioeconomic advantage plays a part in this light punishment, not to mention the privilege extended to talented athletes, regardless of their integrity.

“Dad, on the other hand, seemed more like those friends who had abandoned Erik, who now regretted ever getting involved with him in the first place.”

Paul calls Dad’s character into question. His investment in Erik has not been to raise an upstanding citizen, but rather to nurture a far-fetched dream of football stardom as he lives vicariously through his eldest son. Once Erik has dashed that potential, Dad becomes disinterested and detached.