Fall (14 page)

I’m not though. Seriously. She’s nice. She thinks I’m a riot.

I don’t know why we come here she says. I’m sorry J.

I like it here. Right. I don’t see your mom like you do.

I’m sorry.

Sometimes her mom’s in the fur coat with the hairy bush I’m thinking.

What do you want to do she says.

You know I’m saying.

I
DESCRIBE MYSELF
variously as a lawyer, a policy adviser, a researcher. If someone presses me further I will say I work at the Canadian Radio and Television Commission. I watch the light diminish in their eyes. I have played various roles there over the years. Assessing content, determining suitability, granting and revoking licences. I have some rising to do. I expect I will never be made a commissioner.

I could properly say that it’s an affliction of approaching middle age to know that I am so much more than what I appear to be. My colleagues come to me with legal questions, policy questions. We nestle in a web of minutiae and unstick ourselves in the evening.

Even though I spend most of my life, now, with this identity, it is never what I see in the mirror. I won’t pretend that I have not spent a great deal of time restraining myself.

I nonetheless believe that my job is important. Determining what should be heard and seen. My life has taught me that the promise of others is illusory and it is sometimes necessary to define oneself against them. I believe in demarcation, in the refinement, articulation and protection of different cultures.

I want to believe in predictability and patterns—perhaps the subtler the better. I don’t believe that there is a straight line to any human behaviour, but there is a line, and I believe in tracing it.

And if my life has been a process of concealment, I am not surprised by how quickly revelations come. It is as though the myth were true that water always melts more quickly than it freezes.

I assume that my colleagues hide themselves in one way or another, that perhaps their secrets are less grave but nonetheless define them. I sometimes think of Julius in those terms. There were injuries on his body which I was never able to see. I don’t know how he was affected by them. I don’t know where or how his life has progressed. A paradox occurs to me that he hid himself like he hid that damage, and was consequently himself, and happy. But we were different.

His father, a public figure, was easier to follow. I know they moved back to Vermont. He made some disparaging comments about the “unpreparedness” of Canada. I know there was a later move to Boston. I have pictured Julius on a generic university campus for an almost laughable number of years. Some days he is smiling and the campus is rich with green. He is always young. Some days I am in his body and looking at the campus and no one and nothing is living.

O
CTOBER
13

Party tonight at Brown’s

October 20

Party tonight at Brown’s

October 27

Party tonight at Brown’s

Noel has a calendar that says Literary Figures of England and I ask him what the red letters are and he says Saints Days and I say what’s wrong with a calendar with tits and oil and tires and neither of us finds it funny.

Hum.

Dad said call so I call and it’s Harry, Residence Secretary, and I’m waiting for his United States blah blah get through your sentence I want to talk to dad.

It’s Julius Harry is dad around.

One moment Julius I’ll put you through.

And that’s the loudest fuckin piano.

Hey pal.

Hey dad. Why’s the piano music so fuckin loud.

I’ve got the night off, pal. How about a run.

Sure.

Will you walk over.

I’ll run.

Dad rubs Vaseline on his balls and armpits and pulls his shorts up high and puts track pants on over them now and says I gained eight pounds last month and all I ever eat is hors d’oeuvres.

He has a bit of a gut and that’s not gonna happen to me it’s impossible. His back’s big when we walk out of the bedroom and we’re going down the stairs a pair of joggers.

Harry says Do you want security and dad says I’ve got it, pat pat on my back, we’re the same height but I always feel shorter.

I’m not taking a bullet for you I say.

Let’s do three miles around the neighbourhood he says. All around the world he calls it.

It’s dark already and it’s only five o’clock and dad straps his headlight around his head and I’ve pretended for a couple of years not to be embarrassed by it.

The marines salute.

It’s funny.

RCMP follow in the car.

It’s funny and fuckin dumb.

We jog.

Let’s go slow for my knees he says.

I used to feel grown-up when I ran with him and now we’re buddies and I want him to understand everything in my heart.

I had drinks with the Mexicans last night and I told them I go running with my son. Let’s run by the residence and wave ok.

His light’s jogging ahead of us and swiping at trees and houses.

I’m telling you. Sometimes I can remember to limit my calories. But sometimes all these cocktail parties.

He’s smiling like he’s being watched.

When I ran for governor the president gave me one piece of advice. Put lots of soda in your whisky.

A pebble jumped into my shoe.

And this ambassador thing is even more unhealthy. The drinking. The hors d’oeuvres.

He looks at me and his light’s in my eyes and The hors d’oeuvres he says again.

Now there’s a green circle in my eyes from his light and a green circle of nothing in the middle of everything and I’m trying to blink it away.

I’ve been to over four hundred cocktail parties this year and the year’s not over. How’s your math.

I figure that’s more than one a day I say and I’m looking at him from the side and his smile’s not so phony.

There’s Benicio’s place he says and his light jiggles on the stone of the Mexican ambassador’s place and we wave and smile in the dark.

I was at the Swedish ambassador’s place two nights ago.

He nods his light across the street and it check-marks the Swedish place and I’m thinking of a blonde in the window in her bed and a light shines in and she’s thinking Cat Burglar but it’s the U.S. ambassador and I want to be with Fall she’s prettier than Swedish blondes but I haven’t met many.

Harvard man he says. So’s Benicio. I’m telling you. Being American has kick-started a lot of good relations with these guys.

. . .

. . .

We’re jogging.

. . .

. . .

Sarbjit over there. MIT man. Sikh too. We’re inking a wonderful software agreement between India, Canada, and the U.S. Don’t get Sarbjit started on software it’s like talking to someone from Liechtenstein about false teeth.

What.

He knows everything.

It’s getting cold I say.

Ottawa’s the snowiest capital in the world he says.

We’re jogging.

I’m thinking all the cocktail parties make dad a bag of facts. I’m thinking of rooms of guys smiling and nodding and facting.

I’m thinking girls get bored by facts and facts are holding Sweden and Mexico and everyone together in these places with hors d’oeuvres and I wish I could get the thoughts out in time and talk about something true.

Fall asked When did you lose your virginity, and it was an exciting talk, and I said I think about it a lot I was honest and said When I was fourteen this girl Sue she was older and I was inside her for two seconds and Sue asks What does it feel like and I was so fuckin turned on by her asking that so I lost it in two seconds. And I couldn’t describe that feeling to Sue. I couldn’t get my feeling across, not in time, and I called Sue the next day and said it feels like a glove of tongues.

Dad I say.

Yeah.

I feel happy.

You’re happy.

Yeah.

Good, Julius.

I’m thinking I feel happier than I’ve ever felt so I said that and now I feel embarrassed and I always feel younger around him.

This is a great time of life for you he says. I was thinking about it last Thursday. I was invited by the chancellor of Ottawa University to watch a hockey game. Those young guys. I thought about you . . . I’ve got to slow down a bit here . . . These young guys were incredible. A couple of them could have played professionally. Probably will. I said so to Norman and he appreciated it. He invited me there to show me the potential of these young Canadian men, with their French names, their engineering degrees, their tremendous sporting ability . . . You have to absorb as much as you can, Julius. And the thing that . . . blew me away . . . You can be smart enough . . . old enough . . . to know so much . . . and you still aren’t afraid. Fear isn’t defining your life like it does . . . when you’re older . . . because
these young guys don’t know yet what it is they should be afraid of. All the things that can happen.

They’re hitting each other.

Absolutely. They’re taking big hits and I bet it hurts like hell. But I’m telling you . . . There’s a kind of pain you’re just not aware of . . . at your age. A bodily pain
and
a mental pain . . . And not being aware of it allows you to do anything. I need to walk he says. My knees.

He’s out of breath from talking.

I’m not totally into hockey I say.

His hands are on his hips.

I’m not tired.

There’s a woman and a dog and we smile and dad says Good evening and his light catches the eyes of the dog. I’m thinking about devils and animals and the dog’s really friendly.

Hey buddy.

Dad starts running again maybe to show off to the woman.

Most of the houses are stone and grey and hiding.

She looked familiar he says.

We jog.

It’s a very small community he says.

Are your knees ok.

Sure. I meet so many of the same people at so many different places. National Gallery. Places. We get to know each other.

He waves at someone I can’t see.

It’s an important part of the job. Diplomacy is about many things . . . Trade . . . Security . . . Hoo . . . But it’s about getting to know each other . . . I know so much more about Canada than I ever could have imagined. Going to a diamond mine up north . . . That landscape . . . Meeting the workers . . . And Switzerland over there.

He jiggles his light with his hand and it scratches the stone and the flag.

It’s more than watches and chocolates and banks. Not a lot more, but these are people, Julius. And it’s wonderful . . . to get to know them.

. . .

. . .

Damn he shouts.

He stops.

My goddamn knees.

I clear my throat.

It’s all this goddamn extra weight.

It’s ok let’s walk.

When I’m thinner my knees don’t hurt. Goddamn it.

We stop.

. . .

. . .

Sorry J it makes me mad.

It’s ok.

I had a dream he says after the last time we were running that I was eating something with shaved parmesan and the parmesan shavings were actually slices of bone from my knees. It’s a sharp pain he says.

That’s fucked I say.

I’m feeling happier now like now we’re getting to the heart and he’s himself.

My roommate talks in his sleep I say.

Does he.

And laughs sometimes.

He’s shining his light right on me.

You’re shining your light right on me.

Sorry.

I think I’m dreaming sometimes but I realize I’m awake listening to him dreaming I say.

You get to know people in a different way he’s saying when you’re sleeping in the same room with them. I remember that from college.

You get to know everything I say.

Maybe. I can’t remember his name.

Noel.

I should meet Noel he says.

His dad’s a diplomat.

It’s a very small community.

Dad’s quieter now and softer and we’re walking and his light’s nodding calmly on the road and trees and signs.

They say avocadoes are good for the knees but the last thing I want to do is eat more.

Yeah.

You eating ok at school.

No.

You know you can come home whenever you want.

I do.

I have to fly to Toronto on Thursday to speak to the Empire Club and I’m staying till Saturday. That means Friday I won’t be here. Will you stay at school.

Maybe.

. . .

I’m excited and I’m trying not to be. Control it. I’m trying not to think of sneaking Fall in that night and lying there in the solarium in the dark there’s a view of the river and lights blinking across the city in worlds I want to see, she’ll love it. And every step I’m taking is touching some new space, there’s so much space outside of school.

All these embassies I say. People work in some of them right.

In the residences. Some of them. Most of them don’t have the separate chancery like we do.

K.

They have offices he says. The Most Reverend Papal Nuncio there. That’s the largest residence in Sutton. He has lots of officials and apartments there.

I’m quiet.

I’m thinking I don’t know much.

It’s colder now that we’re walking.

A lot of interesting people he says. And we’re all protecting our interests. That’s what you have to remember, Julius. We’re learning
about each other and getting along but it’s all about looking out for ourselves. And for the United States it’s even more important because if we don’t look out for ourselves then nobody is free.

I figure we’re not connecting. I want him to tell a joke or maybe I could make him proud somehow. I want him to ask about Fall.

It’s cold he says. Come on.

We’re jogging.

You can be curious about other people, and you should be. But you should know yourself he says.

His light makes circles and questions.

I want to spit.

I spit.