Milosz (30 page)

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Authors: Cordelia Strube

BOOK: Milosz
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There is, however, a message from his agent regarding a commercial for cellphones. And Sammy Sanjari is asking how Milo and his dad are ‘getting along' and if they can arrange a time to ‘wrap things up.' Milo doesn't reply. He phones Tanis even though he knows she won't pick up. He phones Christopher even though he knows the hospital blocks incoming calls after nine.

The casting director, whose hair looks as though it has been licked by a large cow, greets him effusively at the door. Milo would like to ask him why he has called him in when he behaved so
unprofessionally
in the audition for the beer ad, but the casting director immediately pulls him aside. ‘Go wild with this one,' he urges. ‘He wants crazy. You'd be perfect. Just don't hold back.' He pushes him into the audition room where a paunchy man in a leather jacket sits behind a table.

‘How's it wagging?' the man asks. ‘You're surprised to see me, right?' He has a puff of youthful hair that contradicts the many lines on his face. ‘You're thinking, “no decent director auditions solo,” am I right?'

‘It is unusual.'

‘Well, you know what? I'm an
actor's
director. I like to know what I think before the bean counters tell me what
they
think. Make sense?'

‘Sure.'

‘You play guitar?'

‘A little,' Milo lies. ‘It's been a while.'

‘Have you ever been in love?'

‘Sure,' Milo says, although he isn't sure. Unless his chronic longing for Tanis's approval qualifies, or his desire to lick her legs. Or his pining for Zosia, and his need to fondle her silk scarf. He keeps imagining he sees her on the street, keeps hoping for that chance encounter in which he'll be able to explain his feelings.

‘Okay, soldier, here's the thing. You are so in love with this woman you get hard just thinking about her. 24/7 you're thinking about her.'

‘I'm hard 24/7?'

The director touches his youthful hair as though to make sure it's still intact. ‘That's funny. I like it. I've heard about you. You come from theatre, is that right? Do something for me.'

‘Excuse me?'

‘Hamlet or something. Can you do Hamlet? The slings and arrows bit. That's a good one.'

A trained classical actor, always prepared, Milo begins the
to be or not to be
soliloquy but the director stops him at
a sea of troubles
. ‘Okay, now do it like it's a comedy.'

‘You're insane,' Milo says and starts to walk out.

‘Okay, okay, sorry, see that cell?' A cellphone is propped against an Evian bottle on the table. ‘The woman you love is on the phone, gazing at you from that little screen and you want to fuck her in half. But instead you grab your guitar.' The director points to an electric guitar. ‘And you play your lust out to her. Can you do that?'

‘It's not plugged in.'

‘Whatever, act it. Think
bitch in heat
.'

Milo, feeling the inevitability of gradual decline pressing upon him, grabs the guitar and starts wailing, ‘Baby, baby, I want you … ' He hops around, jabbing the neck of the guitar at the phone. He howls and yowls, repeatedly thrusting his pelvis, and yanks his shirt open. All of this excites the director who also hops around howling and yowling and thrusting his pelvis. ‘Baby, baby, I need you. Baby, baby, love me too … '

Milo grabs the phone and starts licking it. The director, sweating below his puff of youthful hair, stands back. ‘They warned me you were wild.'

Milo starts to shove the phone down his pants.

‘Okay, okay now, cool it,' the director says, holding up his hands. ‘I get it. You win.'

Milo doesn't know what he has won. The casting director, probably alerted by the howling and yowling, squeaks open the door and says, ‘How's everything going?'

‘We're done here,' Milo says and walks out into the exhaust-scented morning.

•••

Travis, the sports fan, is asleep but still his
TV
drones. Christopher doesn't seem surprised to see Milo. ‘Look who it isn't,' he remarks.

‘I'm sorry I couldn't bring Robertson.'

‘Did you even try?'

‘I told Tanis we'd been to see you. Did she call you?'

‘She did indeed.'

‘Is she going to bring him?'

‘She hasn't decided. She's seeking professional guidance. As I have no time for professionals our conversation was brief.' How can a man trapped in a bed have no time?

‘You're in the care of professionals here.'

‘Yes, and look how well I'm doing. A man with multiple fractures fell off a gurney last night outside this very room. We heard his anguished cries. Apparently he was left unattended because the professionals were otherwise engaged. And yet I am expected to make it to rehab where professionals will roll me around on an exerball. That's what they do, I'm told. Sit you on a big rubber ball and watch you crash to the mat Humpty Dumpty-style over and over again until you figure out how to balance. It takes weeks apparently. I couldn't be more excited.'

‘Well, it's good they're talking about rehab,' Milo says.

‘It's all good. That's what my roommate here says frequently.
It's all good
. My wife has informed me that our marriage is over, and that she may or may not let me see my son. My body is broken in many places and the only person who visits me is you, Milo. It's all good.'

Frantic garbling over the intercom suggests another patient may have tumbled from a gurney.

‘I might have killed Billy,' Milo says. ‘It was an aneurysm. I might have caused it.'

‘You can't cause an aneurysm. It's already there. It's like a ticking bomb.'

‘Yeah, but me roughing him up might have caused stress that made it rupture. That's what Tanis thinks. She thinks I killed him.'

‘Oh, well, in that case, bring on the executioner.'

‘I think she wants me to turn myself in.'

‘Yes, well, her world is black and white.'

‘You don't think I should?'

‘To what purpose?'

‘A clear conscience.'

‘We don't live there. Is my associate asleep?'

‘I think so.'

‘Turn the
TV
off before I go postal.'

Milo sneaks around the curtain and presses the power button. Travis, on his back with his mouth open, snores. Strewn about his bed are sports sections and empty pudding cups.

‘A few months ago,' Christopher says, ‘Robertson developed an interest in a girl at school. He swore me to secrecy but couldn't have been hiding his crush very well because Billy broadcast it in cyberspace detailing the sick and perverted things “the retard” planned to do to the girl. Then Billy took her to a movie and shoved his fingers up her vagina. I know this because the father of the girl was one of my clients. Like me, he didn't want to put his child through the humiliation, stress and futility of seeking justice. And so the Billies of this world go on damaging lives until nature takes its course, or someone accidentally kills them. No matter how hard my left-of-centre mind works at it, I can't perceive his demise as a tragedy and nor should you, unless, of course, you enjoy wearing a hair shirt.' He sucks on a straw sticking out of a large Styrofoam cup. ‘But there's no denying I'm not the best person to judge, given that I am the father, and up close and personal with nature's course myself. All the lines that used to be clear to me have become blurred. Like any good atheist I've always considered the Earth, the intractable world of matter, to be the basis of consciousness. Our births are real, but after that, all bets are off, randomness rules. Of course now I'm hoping for wings and pearly gates. Very predictable and disappointing.'

He sucks on the straw again. ‘So the field is open, Milo, if you want to fuck my wife.'

‘I wish you'd stop saying that.'

‘You know what I find extraordinary? I didn't think it was about us anymore. Didn't think our relationship was that important. When you have a kid, you just don't matter that much anymore, to you anyway. I found this liberating, not being bound by my ego and needs and aspirations. I lived for Robby, did everything for Robby. Meanwhile my marriage was ending without me knowing it.'

‘But you left.'

‘At her insistence. And because I was afraid I might hit him again. Now I know I could never hit him again. My understanding was that the arrangement was temporary.' Christopher starts his laughing/crying combo again. ‘But whaddayaknow? The wife says it's over. Finito. Kaput.'

‘Who turned off my
TV
?' Travis demands.

‘I did, asshole,' Milo says, suddenly incensed at the injustice of it all. He strides around the curtain. ‘Wear fucking headphones. You're driving him nuts. Me nuts. You don't want me nuts.'

‘I'm calling a nurse.'

‘Oh, I'm sure she'll rush to your side, after she lets some poor fuck fall off a gurney. Wear headphones, dickwad.' He points to his ears. ‘The hospital provides them.'

‘All right already. Just back off.'

Milo realizes he is leaning over Travis's bed rail. ‘Call your mother,' he quips before ducking around the curtain where Christopher gives him two thumbs up. Milo slouches in the chair.

‘You've got no place to go?' Christopher asks.

‘Not really. Do you mind?'

‘Turn the chair so you're not staring at me. Face the window. I spend days watching the sun move across the sky. I'd like to say it's comforting but really it just reminds me of my infinite insignificance.'

Milo settles in, resting his feet against the windowsill. A small plane cuts across the sky dragging a banner that says,
Melissa, will you marry me?
Air whistles through Christopher's busted nose.

‘What happened to that Russian girl you were dating?' he asks.

‘Latvian. She dumped me.'

‘Why?'

‘I coast.'

‘Really? How interesting. You know what she told me about you?'

‘She talked to you about me?'

‘We had a brief chinwag when you locked yourself out and had to borrow a ladder to climb in a window. She said, “Milo is disappointed in his oyster.”'

‘What's that supposed to mean?'

‘That you're disappointed in life. But look at it this way, at least you have one.' He winces and clicks the button on his morphine pump. ‘I think everybody's a little disappointed in their oysters, Milo. It's an unavoidable flaw in the human psyche. She was a nice girl, smart. Too smart for you, probably.'

‘I don't know where she is. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't see her. I'm quite worried about her. Her mother's sick back in Latvia. She actually loves her mother.'

‘Some people do.'

Milo is about to ask Christopher if he loves
his
mother but then remembers that she's dead and that Christopher's father married his twenty-something personal assistant who spawned two neuro-typical children younger than Robertson.

‘Hello, Mother,' Travis says. ‘Yes, it's me … I said I'd call, didn't I? … Not to worry, the doc says I'm doing just fine … No, really, it's all good.'

ilo walks stealthily up the walk, hoping to arrive undetected but, of course, Sammy Sanjari is on the couch in deep conversation with Tawny. Doubtless he is considering the potential of a reality show set on the res. Maybe her dead abusive father could show up and blow kisses.

‘Milo,' Sammy says, jumping up and extending his arms. Milo heads for the kitchen. ‘Why don't you return my calls, my friend?'

‘I'm not your friend.'

‘You should always return calls as a courtesy.'

‘Fuck that noise.'

‘Tawny tells me your father has settled in bootifully.'

‘He's nuts, okay,
nuts
, all he does is fix things.'

‘And cook,' Tawny adds. ‘You should try his cabbage rolls.'

Milo smears Vera's cream cheese on crackers. ‘Has Vera come down?' Tawny shakes her head. ‘Did you take some food up to her?'

‘Gus took up some goh-ron-tseh mleh-koh.'

‘Some
what
?'

Gus appears from the basement. ‘
Gorące mleko
,' he clarifies, nodding and smiling. ‘Hunny vit meelk.'

‘He means milk and honey,' Tawny interprets.

‘Varm dreenk,' Gus explains.

‘Gus, my friend,' Sammy says. ‘How well you are doing with your English.'

Gus nods. ‘Eengleesh. Noh prrroblem.'

‘Bootiful. Well, Milo, I would say you are ready to wrap things up.'

‘I'm not wrapping up anything.'

Sammy's cell rings ‘Where Is the Love?' He pulls it out of his jacket. ‘Yes, I'm with Milo now. No worries. It's looking very good, very promising. Although he is a little reluctant … A little, yes … I understand, but are you sure you don't want to leave it with me? … I understand.' He hands the phone to Milo. ‘Birgit for you.'

Milo takes the phone only because he can't think of what else to do. ‘Milo?' Birgit says. ‘Milo, are you there? What's this about reluctant?'

‘I want out.'

‘There is the matter of a contract.'

‘I'll give you back the money,' he says, knowing he has already spent the initial grand on utility bills.

‘There are two kinds of people in the world,' Birgit says. ‘The finishers and the quitters. Which one are you?'

A man who can build a debris hut is no quitter. ‘I'm just not comfortable with this,' he says.

‘Sammy will
make
you comfortable. That's his job. Let him do his job or I'll sue your ass. Give me back to him.' Milo hands the cell back to Sammy who listens to Birgit, periodically saying, ‘I understand' and ‘no worries' and, finally, ‘bootiful.'

All the while Gus has been making tea and slicing lemon. ‘
Herbata
,' he says, lifting the teapot.

‘It's called tea, asshole,' Milo says.

‘Milo, is that any way to talk to your father? Come and sit with me.'

‘I don't want to sit with you.'

Sammy grips his arm. ‘Come, we can fix this.' He guides Milo to the couch and sits beside him with his arm firmly around his shoulder. ‘I know this has been hard for you, but you know, sometimes we run away from the very thing we need most in the world. Sometimes our heart's desire is within our grasp but we don't see it because we have been blinded by our past. The past is over, my friend. Bury the past or it will bury you. You have a brand-new future with your father who is so good at fixing things and making cabbage rolls. Do you know how much I would give to be able to sit down to dinner with my father? I would be so happy to just be with him, healing old wounds and accepting that the past is past.'

Cotton balls plug Milo's lungs again, pushing up his throat into his mouth and nostrils. Why fight it? Resistance is futile. ‘What do you want me to do?'

‘Tomorrow night you'll have dinner together. A nice Polish dinner. Gus will do the cooking and we'll pretty up the house. No worries.'

‘Have you spoken to Gus about this?'

‘Get Pablo to ask him,' Tawny says. ‘He speaks Polish.'

‘No he doesn't.'

‘Whatever, he communicates with him.'

Gus walks in with a tray and sets it on the table. He arranges Annie's ‘special occasion' teacups and saucers that have been ignored for years and begins to pour. He has never done this in his life. Milo can't stand it.

‘Vera?' He knocks. ‘Vera, can I come in?' When she doesn't answer he nudges the door open. Pablo's sandwiches are untouched, although the teacup is half empty. He replaces it with a fresh cup and the crackers and cream cheese. He pats her hand. ‘Vera? Vera, have some tea.'

‘Goodness gracious, what time is it?'

‘Late. Have a cracker.' He offers her one that she takes but doesn't bite.

‘Did Wally come home? He was here, wasn't he? And didn't pop in to see me. He doesn't care one bit.'

‘Oh, I think he does. He's just been incredibly busy at the office. We told him you weren't feeling well. He didn't want to bother you.'

‘What codswallop. Why do you lie like that, Milo?'

This stalls him. He flops onto the marshmallow bed. ‘It's not just me who lies, is it? Doesn't everybody make stuff up to make everybody else happy?' That word again.

‘It doesn't make us happy if it's a lie.'

‘You're not supposed to know it's a lie. A good lie can keep the masses happy for ages.'

‘It all comes out in the end. Might as well sort it at the beginning, save yourself the trouble.'

‘Okay,' he says, ‘if that's how you want it. But don't tell me I didn't warn you.' He stares at a crack in the ceiling so he won't have to see her face as her world implodes. ‘Wallace is sexually disoriented, has erectile dysfunction and hasn't had sex with a woman in years. I don't know if this means he's a pansy but I do know he's afraid of passing on the Parkinson's gene, and that he doesn't see the point of having children on a planet with seven billion people on it.'

‘He said all that?'

‘He did.'

‘There's a certain sense in that.'

‘I agree.'

‘Why doesn't he just come out and tell me then?'

‘He's afraid he'll worry and disappoint you.'

‘What tosh.'

He still can't face her but hears her sipping tea. This is a good sign.

‘They advertise pills for that on the telly.'

‘I don't know if he's tried medication.'

She sips more.

‘And there's something else,' he says.

‘Yes?'

‘He's not an accountant. He's a junk remover.'

‘A what?'

‘He removes people's junk.'

‘That's his lorry, then, with
Friendly Junk Removal
on it?'

‘It is.'

‘He doesn't have a motor in the shop?'

‘He does not. Just the truck.'

‘Is that a good living then, junk removal?'

‘Definitely. Seven billion humans produce a lot of junk.'

‘Why would he lie about it then?'

‘I think he thought accounting was more dignified. He didn't want to worry or disappoint you.'

‘What tosh.'

Downstairs the misfits munch on black bread with cold cuts. ‘
Musztarda
,' Gus says, passing around a jar of mustard.

‘Moosh-tar-dah,' Pablo repeats. ‘Hey, Milo, look what we bought.' He holds up another jar. ‘Genuine Polish horseradish.'

‘
Chrzan
,' Gus explains.

‘Hshan,' Pablo repeats.

‘And pickles,' Tawny adds. ‘Real Polish ones.'

‘
Ogóorki kiszone
,' Gus explains.

‘Oh-goor-kee kee-shoh-neh,' Pablo repeats. ‘Is that right, Gussy? Oh-goor-kee kee-shoh-neh?'

‘Ya,' Gus says, laughing his hahaha yoga laugh.

Milo escapes to the living room and searches for the remote.

‘Tanis wants you to go over,' Pablo calls after him.

‘What? How do you know?'

‘I was over there doing some caulking.'

‘Caulking?'

‘Yeah, she's worried about the mildew around the tub. She thinks it might be bad for Robertson.'

‘Is he home?'

‘He's still at the centre.'

This is madness. The boy should be home by now. He raps on the glass doors. She pulls them open as though she has been waiting for him. She is newly showered, her Medusa hair soaking the shoulders of her bathrobe. She takes his hand and slides it inside the robe and onto her breast.

‘My husband says you want to fuck me. I haven't been fucked for a long time, so let's get at it.'

‘Are you crazy?' He feels her nipple hardening and all he wants in the whole world is to put his mouth around it.

‘Pick me up,' she says. ‘I can't walk.'

With his rib straining he carries her to the futon couch. He lays her down awkwardly, afraid that he will injure her ankle. ‘Does it hurt?' he asks but she is unzipping his jeans, massaging his groin.

‘I'm so ugly now,' she says.

‘No you're not.'

‘I've turned into a witch.' Her mouth feels foreign, so accustomed is he to the memory of Zosia. He slides his lips down her neck to her breasts, which have been hidden for years behind a good marriage and an abnormal child. She spreads her legs and puts his hand between them.

‘I can still get wet,' she mumbles, exhaling relief or despair, he's not sure which. She guides his penis into her vagina, puts her hands on his ass and pulls him into her, forcing him to adjust to her slow, rhythmic movements. He tries to kiss her again but she turns her face away. He sucks and caresses her breasts while she manipulates his pelvis until his response is beyond her or his control and he comes fast, as though it is the first clumsy time, and he knows that whatever relief or distraction she was seeking in him has been spent, that he is just another premature ejaculator, failed actor, lover, friend.
Longing for fulfillment means you are not living in the moment
. Who said that? Sarah fucking Moon Dancer? Wait a minute, didn't he long to lick Tanis's legs? And now here she is, open before him. His tongue slides down her thighs in search of her clitoris. While she moans, exposed, he adds more pressure and speed to his oral gymnastics until her pelvic movements become more urgent, beyond the limits of her black-and-white world of right and wrong. Her cry of release he has heard before, through the wall when she has been with Christopher. Within what feels like seconds she pushes him away and rolls onto her side. He pulls up his jeans and sits on the edge of the futon, baffled. Does she want him to hold her? How can he on such a small couch? He tries stroking her back but she is unresponsive. ‘Are you okay?' he asks.

‘I forgot for a few seconds,' she says.

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