Shelf Monkey (27 page)

“Brotherman, how goes the fight?”

“My friends treat me like I’ve got Ebola, but hey, who’s complaining?”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Fuck you. I don’t have any books tonight, Aubrey, or oh gosh I’m sorry, Don Quixote. I don’t know who I’m talking to here. Tell you what, I’ll stay home and broil a copy of
The National Review
in my oven.”

“Hey, I’m trying to apologize here,” Aubrey said. He sounded truly contrite. “I’m extending an olive branch. Least you could do is hear me out.”

“So talk,” I said, punching play on my dvd remote. Men in monkey suits began stroking a large rectangle on the screen. “Talk away, you have my undivided attention.”

“I sense disbelief.”

“No, no, I’m really interested in what you have to say.” I fast-forwarded to a polished femur soaring into the sky, jump-cutting itself into a space station.

Aubrey sighed. “I guess I got a little intense there.”

“No, Joe McCarthy was a little intense, Aubrey. You were in allout Chucky Manson territory.”

“I’d like to make it up to you.”

“To what do I owe the honour?”

“We miss you.” I paused the film, stopping a space shuttle’s docking with two rotating rings in mid-penetration. “Danae is miserable without you.”

Hah! I knew it!
“She could tell me that herself,” I said coldly. I should make this easy?

“Look, Thomas, the plan, Munroe, it’s all over, all right? We were hyped up that night, but it didn’t last. We met a few more times, and we all agreed you were right, it was a pointless exercise in futility.”

“Really?”

“Really and truly. No plans, no revenge, nada. We’ll just stay home.”

“I think that’s best.” For the first time in forever, I relaxed and allowed myself a weak smile.

“Me too.”

“So, we’re good again?”

“We’re good, brother,” Aubrey said. I could hear the contentment in his voice. “I’ve done some soul-searching, rereading old favourites and such. There’s nothing like a little Aldous Huxley to put things back into perspective. I’m going back to work next week. I’m asking you for another chance.”

“Sounds good.”

“But, Munroe is coming, and I can’t pretend I’m not depressed by that. Warren and Danae are coming over tomorrow night to visit and ride out the media storm. We’ll play some games or something. Would you like to come?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“Did I mention how much Danae misses you?”

“Yeah. Did Warren mention how my mere presence drives him into psychotic rage?”

“Yeah, he did. But he promises to behave, and I’ve got a trank gun if he goes ballistic on you.”

“Well —”

“Danae
really
misses you.”

“Well, I guess that’s that,” I said. The glowing numerals of my watch said the time was almost midnight. We had passed a pleasant evening drinking beer, eating Chinese take-out, getting mildly stoned, resolutely
not
mentioning Munroe Purvis or how the taping of his show might have gone, and playing Risk, Warren and Aubrey teaming up again and again to wipe my pieces off the map while
Sketches of Spain
played in the background. I griped and moaned about fair play and UN regulations, but I didn’t really mind. I was never very good at the game, somewhat lacking in the
military acumen necessary to both defend one’s terrain and mount a successful world conquest, invariably finding my pieces had dwindled to two or three armies of red on a continent of green or yellow. But maybe I had it coming from these two. They were taking pains to mend our relationship, but who could blame them for relishing a little dice-decided payback? The board was now an entire planet tragically devoid of all but three faltering armies of red, smoking their last cigarettes before facing the firing squads of the rebel insurgents of the greens and blues. Ah, well, such is life. At least in a world where Canada is divided into four provinces.

“What’s that?” Warren asked, looking up as he shook the dice in his hands. “You giving up, Thomas?” He released the dice, howled in triumph, and finger-flicked the second-last of my troops from the board.

“I’d advise against quitting just now, brother,” Aubrey said, peering over the bloody massacre. “I’d say you’ve got us just where you want us.”

“Lured us into a false sense of security,” Warren said, studying the pieces. “Very clever.”

“No, I think you’ve now both got an indisputable sense of security, thank you very much,” I said, stretching the kinks from my back. “I’ve done what I came to do, made you two feel better about yourselves.”

“Hey, worked for me,” said Warren. “Aubrey, you?”

“Why, I’ve never felt better.”

“Then my work here is done,” I said, plucking my last armies mercifully from the battlefields. “My men and I can suffer the humiliation of defeat no longer. I surrender. Just promise me you’ll send flowers to the widows of all the brave soldiers you’ve slain in combat.”

“Hey, brother, you can’t leave yet,” Aubrey said, commencing another dice war with Warren over the fate of Ontario. “You’ll miss my coronation as undisputed master of the known world.”

“Hah! You wish!” Warren chortled. “Your defences are weak in Africa and Europe. You lack the will of the warrior, my young friend. The world is mine!”

“But I control Australia, Warren. The stronghold of the southern hemisphere. I’ll sic the wallabies on you. Armies of platypuses are at
my disposal. The koalas are readying arms as we speak.”

“Ooh.”

“Hey, in a minute I will control all of North America. It’ll be only a matter of time now until I get the antiballistic missile defence system up and running.”

“I really don’t think the Parker Brothers have prepared for that eventuality in their rules.”

“Besides, Thomas,” Aubrey said in a teasing voice, “leaving would be a bad idea. Danae is coming, if you’ll remember.”

I stopped in mid-rise. I had honestly forgotten. Danae’s absence that evening had gone unmentioned by the three of us, her presence at Munroe’s program a sore spot for Aubrey, I believed. When I had asked where she was after I arrived, trying unsuccessfully to control my shameful hope of reconciliation, Aubrey fluttered a hand dismissively. “She’s with
Munroe
tonight.” The name came out in a long, sarcastic drawl.

“Danae decided to go to the taping with Page,” Warren added, “as a show of solidarity or something. She didn’t want to go, really, but Page insisted. She’ll drop by afterward, she said, maybe.”

“Maybe,” Aubrey repeated.
“Maybe
she’ll pop by. If it’s not too late.” I braced myself for another tirade, sighing inwardly. Aubrey held it together, however, taking a deep breath, holding it, then clapping his hands and saying, “Who’s up for a game or two?”

“Twister?” I asked.

“I said, Danae’s not here,” Warren joked, prodding my ribs in jest.

No more was mentioned of Danae that evening, and I put her grudgingly out of mind, happy just to be with friends who seemed to have forgiven and forgotten my trespasses.

Now, I rechecked my watch. “The taping’s been over for hours now, Aubrey. I don’t think she’s —”

“Wow, Risk,” a lovely voice said from behind me. “You guys really know how to set the night on fire.” Danae traipsed happily into the room, snowflakes melting in her hair. My heart jumped at the sight of her, but I decided to play it cool and merely pant silently to myself. “Next thing you know, you might get crazy, break out the Pictionary.” She dropped her coat to the floor, revealing a stunning red dress that expertly highlighted every body
part I yearned for (hello, sisters Brontë, how’ve you been?), and flopped herself lengthwise on the couch in feigned exhaustion, cuddling her head into Margarita’s living canine cushion.

“Long night, sister?” Aubrey asked with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, honey, you have no idea.” She fixed her beautiful orbs on me. “Hello, Thomas, glad you stayed. You okay with all this?”

“Oh, can’t complain,” I replied, heroically averting my eyes from the ample décolletage her dress had on display. “Wingus and Dingus here have repeatedly committed non-UN-sanctioned genocide on my people, but otherwise, I’m cool.”

“Harsh, dude,” Warren protested. “It’s just a game.”

“So,” I said, “at the risk of starting a conversation I’m sure I don’t want to be a part of, how was the show?”

“Well.” Danae made herself more comfortable on Margarita’s back, getting an irritated
Ubf
for her troubles. “Munroe, in person, is even more repulsive than you can imagine.”

“Do tell,” said Aubrey.

“I do tell. It’s not just the rampant fawning, which comes off him in waves. He has this sweatiness that must be covered with lighting or something. You can smell it on him.” She shuddered. “He leaned in toward me for a quick look-see when Page introduced us. Didn’t even try to disguise it. You’d need a crowbar to pry him out, he was that far into my cleavage.”

“Classy,” I said.
Why are you wearing such a revealing dress, anyway?
is what I wanted to ask.

“How was Page?” Warren asked.

“Oh, wow, you’ve never seen the like. She was like a schoolgirl being asked to a dance for the first time, all giggling and blushing. I knew she was a fan of his show, I didn’t realize she was such a fan of
him
.”

“She just smelled the money,” said Aubrey. “It’s an aphrodisiac for Page. She was the same way when we talked to the bankers about loan options to get the store off the ground.”

“Whatever it was, she was all over him. It was like a car accident, you couldn’t help but watch. The fact that he had no interest in her, that made it just that much sadder. She just couldn’t see it.”

“Sorry I missed it,” I said. “Sounds like quite the party.” I stood up and brushed the wrinkles from my pants. “Well, time to mosey on home. Page’ll want me to help tear down the chairs in the morning. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Honey, you’re leaving?” Danae asked. “But the party’s just starting.”

Honey?
I bit down on my tongue, holding back a bitter rejoinder. “Well, you know, we all need our beauty sleep.”

“He doesn’t know?” she asked Aubrey. “You haven’t told him?”

“I was waiting for the best time, but it never came up.” Aubrey looked me up and down. The crunch of tires on the new snow in the driveway filtered into the room. Aubrey perked up. “Warren, is that a car I hear outside?”

“Oh fuck!” Warren jumped to his feet, knocking the game pieces off the board. “Get ready, guys!” He ran through the kitchen toward the back of the house, tearing through the rear entrance and running outside. The screen door banged itself shut behind him.

“Tell me what?” I asked. Faintly from outside, I heard the slam of a car door being shut. “What’s going on?” I looked at Danae for help. She had sat up, tensing herself into readiness. Muffled footsteps sounded from the porch. The doorbell rang.

“What’s going on?” I asked again. “Where’d Warren go, Aubrey?” Aubrey remained sprawled on the floor.

“Why don’t you answer the door, Thomas?” he asked, looking bored.

“It’s your house, you do it,” I snapped. The doorbell sounded again.

“You never told him,” Danae said tersely. “Oh, Aubrey, you should have told him, I begged you. Oh, God.” She brought her hands to her face.

“Thomas is a big boy, Danae,” said Aubrey. “He can make up his own mind, can’t you, Thomas?”

“Make up my mind about what?” Panic tickled at my spine. “Danae, please, what’s happening?”

“I think you should answer the door, brother,” Aubrey said, still so maddeningly composed.

“Well, it’s your house,
brother
.” I stood still, blood hammering
my eardrums.

“Answer the door, Thomas.”

“Answer your own fucking door.”

“Answer the door.”

“Fuck you!”

“Thomas, please,” Danae said. “Just answer the door. Please.” I ground my teeth. “If you ever cared for me —”

“Christ, cared?” I spat. “Cared? You haven’t talked to me in weeks, Danae!” I loomed over her on the couch. “You ignore me, now you talk like everything’s okay?” Doorbell again, a longer tone this time, its ringer holding down the button impatiently. “Who’s outside, Danae? What’s going on here? I thought we were past all this secret bullshit.” Everything blurred as tears rimmed my eyelids.

“Please answer the door,” she said. She hadn’t moved when I approached, still sat rigid, staring me down. “I’m begging you, Thomas. If I ever meant anything to you, answer the door. Now.”

Aubrey flapped his lips with irritation. “Get the door, Thomas.”

“It’s important, Thomas,” Danae said. She put a hand on my leg. “Please.”

I shoved her hand away. “Oh, it’s important?” I yelled, taking a step away toward Aubrey. She groaned dejectedly. “It’s important to Danae, Aubrey, did you hear that?” He nodded. “Is it important to you as well?”

“You have no idea how much,” he said. So fucking cool.

“Shall I get the door then?” I kicked the game board away.

“Please.”

“Well, sure, then.” I stomped furiously to the front door. “Why not? Danae wants me to answer the door, Aubrey wants me to answer the door, well then, I’ll just answer the door then! I mean, as long as it’s so goddamned important to you two!” I put my hand on the doorknob and yanked the door open, screaming “what?” at the top of my voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have the wrong house,” the ringer said, taken aback. He looked to the house numbers on the outside wall in confusion.

“Uh,” I gulped. “Uh . . . er . . . what . . .”

“
BANZAI!
” Warren hollered, tackling him low from behind, driving the two of them into me, sending the three of us hurtling
inside. I lost my balance, tripped and fell, suddenly finding myself the base of a weighty, ungainly, sweaty pile of thrashing limbs. Warren spun himself off, pulling the screaming man along in a barrel roll until Warren was atop him, pressing his knees into the man’s chest. A fist went up, came down. Knuckles collided with skin, a head bounced off the hardwood floor, and all went silent.

“Fucking awesome!” Warren yelled. Somewhere far away, Danae was laughing. Underneath Warren’s knees, Munroe Purvis lay unconscious and bleeding.