The Lesser Blessed (14 page)

“Wow.”

We got up, and I brushed my pants off. We walked up the trail together, talking and laughing.

“Oh yeah, Larry,” Jed said, “about your friend ... John?”

“Yeah?”

“You know when you got into that scrap, and afterwards I asked him if he had seen you in the scrap?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, Larry,” he said, stopping and putting his hand on my shoulder, “that boy was lying to us when he said no.”

“How do you know?” I asked defensively.

“My spider senses were tingling the second I met him.”

We walked home together, crunching snow beneath our heels. Something suddenly hit me.

“Jed? ’Member the Dogrib story you told me? The one about how we came to be?”

“Yeah.”

“ ’Member those kids that made it back to the bag?”

“The ones that turned back to pups?”

“Yeah. What did the mother do with them?”

“I didn’t tell you?”

“I don’t think so. I can’t remember.”

“She killed them, Larry.”

As I waited for Juliet to pick up her phone, I said her name out loud to myself. I rolled it around in my mouth, savouring each syllable as if it were a sweet and delicate Christmas.

“Juu-leee-et,” I whispered, “Juu-leee-et.”

I had rewound the Outfield’s song “Baby, When You Talk to Me” and got it ready so that when she answered, I would press “play” and she’d hear it. Man, she just had to know how I felt. I also had Judas Priest on standby: “Turbo Lover” was set to go, and if the conversation followed along, I had backup, too. Van Haien was locked, cocked and ready to rock.

The phone line rang again and a woman picked up. “Hello?”

It was Missus Hope. I took my finger off “play.”

“Good evening,” I said, “is Juliet in this evening?”

“Why?”

“... Urn, I’d like to talk to her,” I answered.

“She’s grounded.” CLICK!!

Grounded? I held the receiver. What the hell had just happened? Maybe Juliet was getting heck for something. Or maybe her mom had recognized my voice as one of the losers from the night I smoked up. Yeah, that had to be it.

“Man oh man,” I whispered, “the shit I take.”

I went downstairs and lit the wood stove. Mom and Jed were out partying it up because Mom had done really well on one of her exams and it was a full moon. They always celebrated the full moon, every month. In summer, we’d have a back-yard party and Jed would cook—that is, if he was in town. I sat down in the dark. Why was Juliet grounded?

Just then, I heard the neppp-neppp-neppp of a three-wheeler pulling up in my driveway. I could hear the gravel roar as someone skidded to a halt, and the clunk-clunk-clunk of boots as someone flew up my stairs. There was the ding-dong of the doorbell. I turned on the outside light and holy shit—it was Darcy McMannus! Maybe he was here to kick my ass and give me another concussion. I opened the door, just a little bit.

“Hey, Darce,” I said, “how’s it going?” I kept my distance and got ready to duck.

“Hello, Larry.” He had his helmet and gloves in his hands and he was looking down the street, not making eye contact. I took a look at his nose and got ready in case I had to deck him one.

The circle, I thought, the circle. I was scared shitless.

“Your old lady’s out, huh?” he asked shyly. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah,” I said. He looked pretty sad, so I took a chance. “Come on in. Put your helmet over there.”

“It’s getting colder,” he said. “Ski-Doos will be out soon.”

“Yeah. You still got that Phazer?”

“Naw, rolled it. Sent her out to Hay River to get fixed but I can’t pay for it.”

“That’s the shits.”

I could tell he had something to say, so I motioned for him to come sit down.

“Heard about you and Jazz busting each other up.”

“It was stupid,” I said.

“We got trouble.”

“How?”

“Ahh, shit,” he said. I thought he wanted to fight. “Juliet’s gonna have a kid.”

“What!?”

“She called me up crying. She’s fuckin’ preggo.”

“No way!”

“Yeah.”

“Are you fuckin’ serious?”

“Do I look fuckin’ serious?” He glared, and I realized he was scared. “Shit, man, the whole town knows.”

“How?”

“Nurses, doctors, fuckin’ everyone in this fuckin’ town!”

“Oh man, oh shit,” I said. There was panic in my voice. I sat down. I stood up. I looked in the mirror. I ran my fingers through my hair.

“She’s going to Edmonton tomorrow, gonna stay with her aunt,” Darcy said.

“Is she going to have it?”

“She says she wants a fuckin’ kid,” he said. “I don’t know. Fuck. She wants to see you before she goes.”

“Me? What?” My mind was racing. What the fuck was going on?

“Yeah, why you?” he asked suspiciously.

“Where is she?”

“You gonna speak to Johnny fuckhead too?” he asked.

“What does she wanna do?”

“You wanna double-bank Johnny?”

“What?”

“We could go over there and roll him.”

“No. Does Johnny know?”

“Hell yes! And he hung up on her, the cock. He won’t speak to her.”

I put on my shoes and jacket and Darcy ran outside and started his machine. I got on the back and we motored down the back streets of town. It was snowing out, and I started to get jittery on the back of the bike. I realized this might be the last night Juliet would ever be
in town. I couldn’t believe it. We wove past the church, past the drugstore, through the baseball field, past the Pair-a-Dice motel, under the water tower, past the graveyard and into the park behind her house.

In the park, we scared two ptarmigans that were sleeping in the snow. Their white wings flicked to their sides and they flickered ahead of us, like calm white hands. One flanked right, but the other smashed into our windshield.

Darcy jumped off his trike, ran over to it and knelt down.

“Shit,” he said. “Fuck!”

I walked over and stood looking at the destroyed bird. It was as big as a baby pup. It was pure white except for its beak and eyes, which were jet black. It was suffering, trying to move. Blood came from its mouth, and it tried to talk to us, moving its beak.

“Look at that,” Darcy said.

I picked up the warm bird and held it to my chest. With my left hand I held its back and with my right hand I twisted its neck, snapping it.

“You’re fuckin’ mental?” Darcy asked and stepped back.

I handed him the twitching bird. “Her room, which one is it?”

He looked down for a bit. “See the blue light in the basement?”

“I could be a while.”

He was quiet. I didn’t want him hanging around.

I laughed. “I’m serious, I could be a while.”

“Don’t matter,” he said, petting the ptarmigan. “I’ll wait.”

I hopped the fence and crouched low. I peeked into the room through the curtains.

Juliet peeked back, wiped her eyes and waved me in. I motioned “How?” and she opened the window.

“Climb in,” she whispered. “Quietly.”

I did. I scraped my back and belly, but I did it. She guided me through, saying, “Shhhh, shhhhh.”

When I landed on her bed I lay there, and she looked at me with
those eyes. The room was completely blue from the light thrown off the TV. It was tuned to the blue channel, the one with the local community announcements about birthdays and bingos.

“Is it true ... about...?”

“Yes,” she said. “I leave tomorrow.”

“What about Johnny?”

“He’s moving to Yellowknife.”

“Isn’t he going to—”

“Shut up about Johnny.”

Her room was simple, just a bed, a TV, books, a hope chest and Japanese fans all over the walls and ceilings. There were hundreds of them, small and large. They looked like moths in various states of flight.

“Juliet—” I said.

She kissed me.

“But what about your—?”

“I want this baby, Larry. Babies are perfect.”

She pulled my shirt over my head and let it fall to the floor. I stood there, cold, and I started to shiver.

She said two words: “One night.” She looked at me and I felt it. I felt alive, like I had fallen from the sky with the grace of God, with the petals of God, and I had finally spread my wings.

“Don’t you want to crawl into this shirt with me?” she asked. I was hypnotized.

She stood there, and I swallowed her image. It burned my eyes and mind, scorching them pink, and I became a disarray of limbs as I tore the rest of my clothes off. I grabbed her and kissed she kissed back and I blew shhhhh grabbing her ass and she pushed me away and threw me down pulled the covers up and over us pulled her pants and panties off pulled me close. I became gentle beneath her. I stuck my tongue in her ear and we began. We got so loud and I got so hard I thought I’d pop. I understood now the quick gush of Darcy. I was on fire with a silk black fox tasting my fingers.

“I don’t want your hand inside me,” she said and moved closer. “Come on, Larry.”

I rolled on top of her and her hand placed me there. She was soft giving flesh that I took with my tusk and she was hotter than the centre of the sun, like a long never-ending swallow. I couldn’t go deep enough. She shivered inside and bucked under me and I was buried in her hair. She was in my mouth in my throat and she raised her ass under me and (call her snowbird) our meat baby-blush pink (call her raven) the monkeys slept and I swam under her shirt and grabbed her breasts, one of which had slid from under her bra and I filled my mouth with her a warm dove I filled my throat with her and she was in my lungs and my tongue little lightning strikes against her nipples she threw me over and I fell out of her. We gathered it together and I was not alone; I was not forgotten; she established territory by riding position and teeth, hot little teeth against my throat. She scratched my back and I almost felt it. One hand was up her shirt, the other squeezed her ass her mouth was open her eyes were closed I watched what I did to her and I loved it. We went for spice and my tusk pulsed inside her my heart was inside her and it was sweet violation and she pulled me tight and this was the place of Jesus this was the place of Jesus this was the place of Jesus. I was touching her soul and I began to drown. There was no shame in being loud and crying out as Juliet pumped harder and moved like flames like blades of wicked fire, her tiny toes sliced my legs, her razor nails scratched my back and she felt the scales.

“Look at me,” I said. “Look into me, just look at me.”

She did

and I wasn’t alone

I wasn’t forgotten

I wasn’t dead

There was no small town

There was no killing

I wasn’t bad I was clean

I arched so hard I thought I’d touch the back of my skull with my feet. It was like a bullet passed through me. I sank deep within myself where I was untouchable, where I was awake but sleeping. I fell so deep I was in my fingers, the filaments of my hair, and Juliet was far away pumping me, far away melting me, and I panted and lay there spent like winter coming, like fall dying.

As I sank back, she was hugging me, panting, “Holy shit, holy shit.” And I was selfish. I lay there and breathed

breathed

breathed.

She hugged me as we lay on our sides. I felt so good. So clean. She ran her fingers against me. She blew herself into my ear.

“Your back,” she kept saying. “Larry, what happened to your back ?”

“Shh,” I said, “come on now.”

“Were you burned?”

“You’ll never believe me.”

“Come on. It’s like running your hands over a jigsaw puzzle.”

I was quiet. I looked at her neck. I felt her breasts against my chest. They were warm, skinned doves.

“Do you think,” I said, “that when a Russian man is inside a Russian woman, they both feel like we just did?”

“What?” she said.

“Well, it felt so good to be inside you,” I said, “so hot and spicy. It must feel like that for every man who’s ever been inside a woman. I bet it feels the same.”

“Thanks a lot,” she said and tried rolling away.

“No, Juliet. Please. I just feel so happy. This was a dream come true for me.”

“Yeah, well, tell me what happened to your back and we’ll call it even.”

I thought about it for a long time. I wanted to get it perfect. “I was sewn into the belly of an animal.

She was quiet and I waited for something. She started to giggle.

“God, you are so weird,” she said. I ran her hair through my fingers and thought of the fireweed in the ditches in spring, how good it smelled, how the colour ran off like blood on your fingers.

“I love you, Juliet,” I said and I fell asleep.

When I awoke, she was crying. I sat up.

“I’m scared,” she said, and hugged me.

“Juliet, what are you going to do?”

“Go to Edmonton.”

“What about us?”

“Larry, I wanted to do this.”

“With me? You never even look at me.”

“Larry,” she sniffed, “just because I’m not looking at you doesn’t mean I’m not watching you.”

I was quiet. I held her. I looked at her. I kissed her face. She looked down. I kissed her eyelids closed.

She put her hand between us and over her tummy.

“I have to tell you something,” I said. “I’m not going to lie. I have to tell you. I have this God-shaped hole in my heart, and I think you do too.”

She started to cry hard, and I could feel her hot tears fall down my chest.

“Juliet,” I whispered, “I have to ask you. Why did you use crutches in grade eight?”

She was quiet for a bit, thinking. “Did you believe what they said—that I had the dose?”

“I didn’t.” It had just hit me we hadn’t used a condom. (Shit!) “But I heard what they said.”

“Larry, don’t you get it? Every high school needs a whore: Yellow-knife, Hay River, Fort Smith. I’m Simmer’s.”

“I don’t think you’re a whore,” I said. “I think you’re beautiful.”

I kissed her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. I kissed everything I could reach. My hands held her ass and I squeezed.

“I’ll tell you what really happened,” she said, “but you can’t tell anyone. Promise?”