Authors: Pete; McCormack
Shelby (33 page)
“What's that?”
“That's the knife I used to use. I want you to have it.” Before I could respond he'd disappeared downstairs. I sat, flabbergasted, when to my shock my boxer shorts shot up my anus.
“I want answers!” Derek yelled, hoisting me in the air. “
Where is she
?” The jackknife clanged on the kitchen table.
“Who?”
“The mystery woman.”
“Let go and I'll tell you.”
Upon release I yelled “Ignoramus” and attempted to bolt away. My socked feet, however, offered insufficient friction to keep me in pivot and I crashed into the kitchen table, pole axed to the floor like a collapsing giraffe. Derek landed on me and twisted me into a quick half nelson and then spun me into a headlock.
“This is going to hurt me a lot more than it hurts you,” he said, throwing me face down, spanking me and laughing without constraint.
“Knave!” I cried.
He swung me over and sat on my chest, crushing his knees into my biceps.
“No!” I yelled.
“'Fraid so, Shel,” he said, “for your own goodâand you're still my little brother.”
“I'm twenty years old!”
“Well, cowpoke, Happy dang birthday!” He laughed and precariously dangled spittle inches from my face, slurping it up at the last moment. “It's really an art form,” he said.
I flexed every muscle in an attempt to break free. “I'd kill you at
chess
!” I screamed.
“Checkmate,” he replied, slapping my forehead.
Getting in touch with Lucy was a grand relief. As it happened, she'd been out walking all day as she had on Christmas, too. I asked her to pick me up when I got back into Vancouver. She was obliging.
“How's your family?” she asked.
“All events considered, quite well. It's strange without Gran around but the baby news was thrillingâeven a second time. How's your hand?”
“Uh ⦠still a little swollen.”
“I miss you.”
“I stalled six times on the bridge driving home,” she said.
“Lucy, I had a wonderful Christmas Eve.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
“What does it mean? How can such joy and confusion come from the interactions of lovers?”
“Buddhist Noble Truth Number One: Life is hell.”
“Really?”
“Noâhey, guess what?”
“What?”
“I quit my job.”
“For good?”
“Yesâwell, I haven't sent in my resignation or anything, but I've worked out all the plans.”
“You're really going to do it?”
“Well, I'm a little anxious about it. It's the toss-up between a lack o' skills and a lack of excuses. But it's like take a shit or wipe and get outta there, you know? I mean why the hell should I be afraid? Screw fear.”
“I've had some revelations, too. I can't wait to share them with you.”
“Like what?”
“They're just ⦠right now â¦
ideas
. Life. Death. Love. How such an awarenesses effects the look of other issues. Oh, and my Dad, too ⦠I ⦠I'll try to make some verbal sense of them before I return.”
She laughed. “You're
so
corny.”
That night I had a dream. Lucy was singing in her kitchen. A crash of glass and a scream sent me sprinting in there to find her sitting on the floor, naked save for her bra, her face buried in her hands, blood dripping through her fingers. Scattered across the floor was glass and assorted vegetables, much as it was the evening I found her in the bathroom with her cut hand. But in the dream, she lifted her head from her hands and gazed at me with eyes and haircut identical to that of the little girl in the photograph I gave her for Christmas. It was truly haunting.
Not being able to sleep, I watched out my bedroom window the sun's gentle ascent, and as the grays and pinks dappled above the mountainous skyline it occurred to me that, metaphorically, life runs on an identical revolution. In other words, just as the sun
appears
to live and die every twelve hours or so, it could be that Gran (being at the same time an example of life and death) never really died, either, but rather travels on the outskirts of some eternal ride that will eventually spin her back into my life.
Derek and Kristine left for home later that morning. It had been a wonderful visit, the rebirth evident, Derek and I perhaps closer than ever despite the thrashing he gave me on the kitchen floor. As they drove away the phone rang. It turned out to be Eric wanting to wish me a Merry Christmas.
“By the way, I'm going home tomorrow,” he said. “You need a lift?”
“No thanks, I'm going home on the bus tonight. How was your Christmas?”
“The bus?” he said. “Why would you do that when you could come back with me tomorrow?”
“I just need to get back.”
“Work?”
“No, I just need to get back.”
“Say no more, man, I getcha,” he said. “Are you going to bring her to the New Year's party?”
“Who?”
“Fuck you
who
.”
“Lucy?”
“D-uh.”
“Um ⦠I doubt she'll come.”
“
Snob
. Why not?”
“I ⦠We've got several things to discuss.”
“Oooh. Sounds like el cruncho time.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nina and I had that exact yap before I left.”
“What yap?”
“The Love Yap. Listen, man, I gotta ask you a favour?”
“What love yap?”
“It doesn't matter. Remember Terry Anderson?”
“The guitar player.”
“Yeah. I gave him a call this mornin' and his girlfriend said he'd gone on the road with a Top-Forty bandâThunder Frenzyâwhat a stupid fuckin' name. Anyway, man, he's left me dry for the Pig gig on Thursday night. Can you sub in?”
“I don't know any of the songs.”
“Sure you do! We'll do some SMEGMA BOMB! material and maybe a couple tunes from the Void. Just the cream, though. I've got a rehearsal booked for Wednesday night. What do you say, man? You and me, old times? Be your best friend.”
“Eric, I haven't practiced in weeks. All the callouses on my fingers are soft.”
“Come on, man. I'll give you woman advice.”
“I don't need any advice.”
“One piddly night. Two at the outside.”
“Okay.”
“Atta boy!”
“Hey, Eric, what was that pungent odour in the apartment?”
“What ⦔ Eric barked out a laugh. “Oooh, sorry about that. I bought a couple o' big cohos to give to the polar bears.”
“
What
?”
“Coho salmon-”
“I heard you! You're talking about the polar bears at Stanley Park, aren't you?”
“You know any others?”
“You were
arrested
last time, Eric.”
“Yeah, by hypocrite assholes. Screw
them
.”
“But we're talking about your
free
dom, Eric.”
“Shel, I can't believe your attitude,” he said, sounding disillusioned with me, “it was fuckin' Christmas ⦔
After ten o'clock and less than an hour and a half before the bus to Vancouver was scheduled for departure, Lucy was finally home to receive my call.
“If you're never home, how am I supposed to let you know what time to pick me up?”
“Hey, Shel?”
“I hate taking things personally.”
“I quit work.”
“I know, you told me that yesterday.”
“No,” she said. “I
did
it. Twenty minutes ago. From a pay phone on second beach. I just picked 'er up, phoned my agent and said, âSo long, no can do. Sayonara. I'm outta here!' My agent says, âLucy, what are you talkin' about?' Listen to this psycho-babble. I say, âI can't do it anymore. I'm going off to find myself. I quit.' She thinks I'm
nuts
.”
“Well she's wrong.”
“But I ain't nuts, Shelâbut I'm
free
and I am
done
. Officially and unconditionally unemployed ⦠with no skills. Ta-da!”
“I'm delighted for you.”
“I thought it'd kill me.”
“No way.”
“It didn't kill me.”
“I'm very happy for you, Lucy,” I said.
“I can't believe I did it. I can't believe I
fucking did it
!”
“I never doubted you.”
“I know itâand you know how scared I was about havin' no skills?”
“Yeah.”
“I don't even know what that was. Tell you the truth, I don't
give
two shits!”
“I knew you'd do what was best for you.”
“I know you did.”
“So ⦠uh ⦠I'll see you in the morning?”
“Yeah,” she said, her excitement reaching through the phone and tugging at my innards.
“About seven-thirty ⦔
“Great.” I could feel her smiling. It made me happy.
XXII
The world is ruled by letting things take their course
â
Lao Tsu
With my parents waiting in the truck, I slipped on the ice outside the bus depot door, bruising my hip and biting my lip. But the serious injury happened inside: thirty-two buffoons from Golden were travelling to the city to see a Vancouver Canucks ice hockey game and, consequently, there were no seats left for the midnight bus. I was enraged. Didn't they understand? Couldn't they have chartered a plane? I
had
to get back to Vancouver. I immediately called Eric from a pay phone and told him I'd need a lift after all.
“Vell, Herr Lewis,” he said, “it vood appeuh zee situation hass changed. Now who needs who, hmm?”
“I have no time for jokes, Eric. Just remember I was there for you without a moment's hesitation last night.”
“True enough. Pick you up at nine.”
“
Nine
? Come on, seven. I've got to get home.”
“Ten.”
“Eight?”
“Eleven.”
“Okay, nine ⦔
I went out to the truck and explained the situation to my parents. Arriving back home furious, I telephoned Lucy immediately.
“I loathe ice hockey!” I cried.
“Shel?”
“The bus is booked! I can't get home until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay.”
“Assuming Vancouver doesn't have a soccer team!”
“Shel, it's no biggie.”
“Thirty morons from Golden! I've nearly bit my lip in two. My hip? It's a miracle it's not fractured. I have to drag it behind me like a club.”
“It's okay. Settle down.”
“I want to get
home
!”
“You'll be home in the afternoon.”
“God willing.”
“I just remembered, I can't meet you in the afternoon.”
“What?”
“I've got some business stuff I've got to take care of.”
“What kind of
bus
iness?”
“Just stuffâand I'm working tomorrow night. The last waltz!”
“Well when will I see you?”
“Did you hear what I said, Shel? My
last
dance.”
“Terrific, splendidâ
damn
I wish I was on that bus!”
“Jesus, Shel, relax. Look, I'll leave the key for your car under your seat. Can you take a cab from the bus depot?”
“I'm driving back home with Eric.”
“Oh, perfect. That'll be way better than the bus.”
“Lucy, can we get together for dinner tomorrow night?”
“I
can't
. I've got stuff I have to do.”
“Like
what
?”
“Like working, for starters.”
There was a pause as I considered my options. “Okay ⦠I'll call you tomorrow night, then.”
“I'm
working
tomorrow night.”
“Afterwards?”
“What the hell is your problem?”
“I want to see you! Both of us
free
. We should be together.”
“Look, Shel, go to bed. You're acting like an idiot. I'll see you when I can ⦔
Eric was late arriving the next morning, and to make matters worse, on Mom's insistence he came in for coffee. I was livid. It was gone ten before we left Revelstoke. The roads were atrocious from the outset. Just outside of Salmon Arm, Eric's convertible roof top blew off backwards and crashed against the back end of the carâa problem remedied on the highway shoulder with duct tape and a couple of guitar strings as eighteen-wheelers squealed by, compounding an already mortifying wind chill factor.
“I can't feel my fingers,” I cried, clutching my wrist and stepping back into the car.
“I could fix anything, man. MacGyver don't know shit.”
“My lip. My hip. Frostbite. Lucy's going to think I've just returned from war.”
“Christmas with the family,” Eric said, “same thing.”
We laughed. There was a pause. “Between you and me, Eric, I feel an incredible urge to nest.”
Eric glanced at me queerly. “What?”
“To nest.”
“What do you mean
nest
?”
“Nest. Build a common dwelling. Create progeny. Surely you and Nina have discussed it?”
“The word
nest
has never come up.”
“You two don't get along well enough?”
“We get along greatâwell ⦠the pill.”
“What pill?”
“Birth control. They were making her sprout the ol' third eye. So she stopped poppin' 'em and started using a cervical cap instead.”
“So she's better now?”
“Depends on how you look at it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ever seen a cervical cap?”
“No.”
“Let me tell you, man. It looks like a rubber flower pot only it's the size of a contact lens and it's all that floats between havin' sex and havin' Junior.”
“That wouldn't bother me,” I said.
