‘Four shots of vodka!’ she shouts to the bartender through a crowd of people.
‘Four?’ I ask because I can see I’m going to pull her.
‘It’s on me!’
Oh, the wonders of alcohol, I tell you.
Behind Fia, the one and only option of all options appears. My heart begins to beat hard. I can feel the booze and my pulse is rising. Oh, ask and I shall receive!
‘Fia! Did I tell you I was crazy about a woman? Do you remember that?’
She nods.
‘Don’t look now! There’s a woman with short hair right behind you. It’s her!’
I’m grateful that Fia isn’t into women. I don’t want Fia to take her away from me.
‘Wouldn’t it just be the same as being with a man?’ she asks.
‘Oh fuck, but she’s so sweet! I’d marry her if she didn’t have a girlfriend.’
I can get her even if she has a girlfriend. I can. I’m invincible.
‘Has she got a girlfriend?’ Fia asks.
‘Ugh, yes. She here. She’s coming over,’ I say, disappointed.
Frustration rises and I feel the urge to knock her fucking girlfriend on the head and then throw her on the floor. When the bitch could no longer move, I’d take Ivik, holy fuck, Ivinnguaq, home with me!
Her girlfriend, what’s-her-name, stops in front of us. I’m surprised. Does she know I’ve been texting Ivik? I bet she’s coming to confront me. But she turns towards Fia. I watch them. Hold on … Fia? Fia? WHAT? Their movements make me suspicious. I look closely at them and the way their eyes meet and my suspicion is confirmed. Oh my God.
‘Fia, did you hook up with Sara?’ I ask, surprised, covering my mouth with my hand.
If Sara is interested in Fia, I can steal her girlfriend while she looks the other way. I can have Ivik. But Ivik and Sara have walked away, and I have a tremendous urge to get drunk. I’m going crazy because I can’t have her right now. Perhaps I’ll have to make do with plan B.
‘No, we haven’t been together …’
‘Since when have you been attracted to women? Wh–what’s going on?’ I ask. Straight until not, I tell you.
‘How about we get out of here?’ she asks.
I was beginning to feel worthless but Fia rescues me. Oh, fuck me. I’d fuck me, too.
I’m irresistible. So fucking irresistible. I go along with it after playing hard to get for a while. I’ll give you a night to remember, I think to myself.
Annoyed with myself, I switch off my mobile banking and open my texts. Bring it on.
A sound from the living room surprises me and I put down my mobile. For a second I think I’m being haunted, then I remember that Fia is staying here. F. Fia. Fuck. I remember. Oh. Oh, no. Regret no. 2. Fortunately, I’m getting good at this and put it behind me immediately. It’s okay. I’ve done worse. Compared to some of my past misdemeanours, hopping into bed with Fia is nothing. I walk into the living room half naked. Oh, I’m an expert at entrances.
‘Arnaq …’
‘Hi.’ I wink at her.
‘Arnaq, let’s never mention this again,’ she says.
Hot until cold, I get it.
‘Is this the first time you’ve been with a woman?’ I ask with some pride in my voice.
‘This doesn’t mean anything. Nothing happened,’ she replies without looking at me.
Being snubbed is new to me. I can see that her thoughts are elsewhere so I grab some food and walk silently back to my room. I don’t give a fuck. She’s crap in bed anyway. Why should I care? I check my mobile again …
*
Oh, Fia! If I’m really being honest, she’s so damn good in bed that I begin to wonder if that really was her first time with a woman. Oh, the night’s going so well that I’ve already had a naked body next to me and it’s only quarter past four. I am that good! But I can’t go to bed this early. It would be like throwing the weekend out of the window. I’ll sleep when I die! Inuk asks me to come out with him so I freshen up a bit and leave. The weekend has only just begun.
‘Inuk, my boy!’ I shout as I walk in.
He walks over to me and gives me a hug; I see the table full of booze bottles and I feel revived.
‘Where’s Fia?’ he asks.
‘She went to bed as soon as we got back. I just couldn’t drop off to sleep,’ I say.
I’m keeping quiet.
‘I’m not surprised, the little angel,’ he says.
I feel victorious. A fantastic feeling. Not even angels can resist me.
The place isn’t crowded yet, but there’s a good atmosphere. I grab a bottle of beer and follow Inuk, who has left the room to smoke in the kitchen. I have a lot to tell him.
‘Inuk, it’s ages since we’ve been together like this! It’s so good to see you!’
‘Yes, isn’t it? I hardly ever see you now that you’ve left work. I miss you so much.’
‘I’ll never set foot in that place again.’
I feel my anger mounting and I take a drag of my cig.
‘Are you looking for something new?’ he says.
‘Fuck having a boss. I want to set up my own newspaper,’ I say in a proud tone of voice.
‘How will you manage in the meantime?’ he asks.
I don’t like it when people question me but Inuk’s concern soothes me and makes me feel happy. ‘I always manage. You know that,’ I say with a reassuring smile.
‘Make sure you take care of yourself,’ he says and smooths my hair.
‘What about you?’ I ask under my breath. ‘Are you still seeing Miki?’
‘Shush!’ He checks to see if anyone’s heard.
‘Oh, come on, nobody’s listening.’
He looks at me without saying anything and nods.
‘Ooh! What’s he like?’ I ask, my voice getting loud with excitement.
‘Shush!’ he says seriously.
‘Oops. Sorry. What’s he like?’ I whisper.
‘He’s okay. But please cut it out! Not here.’
I really don’t understand why he wants it to be a secret. But I respect him and keep quiet. He only opens up to me and I value the fact that he values me.
‘How are you doing? Are you still in therapy? Have you had a session lately?’ he asks.
‘Not recently,’ I reply. ‘Not sure if I want to go down this road tonight …’
‘Why not? It helped a lot, didn’t it?’ he says. He’s concerned, which is nice.
Then suddenly it’s like a flood, and I tell Inuk about the things that I can’t open up about to other people. This takes away all the pressure that’s been building up. It’s not the first time that Inuk and I have opened up our hearts to one another. And I mean really opened up.
‘I feel stronger than I used to. I still can’t forgive my dad, but I can talk to my mum. Maybe you don’t get this because you haven’t experienced it, but imagine being a kid and being completely alone. There’s no one you can turn to, and showing any kind of emotion is a risk. Everything has to be kept in. There are secrets, taboos, and you can’t tell anybody. You have to keep the secrets. You’re trapped. You just can’t escape. Can you imagine what that’s like? It’s something that I can’t get over …’
Tears begin to stream down my cheeks, making it hard to continue.
‘I can’t forget the way he would come in at night, walk over to my bed and touch me …’
Recalling this in my conversation with Inuk really hits me hard. I try to escape from my anxiety but I’m trapped in my own body. I find it harder to breathe. Shame grips me. Why do I do this? I hide my face with my sleeve. Why the hell do I start talking about this fucking shit when I’m drunk? I hold my breath until I can’t any more. Why, for fuck’s sake, why the hell do I keep on drinking? I sit up and go to the bathroom to rinse my face. I rinse myself in ice-cold water till my face is numb. I force myself to look in the mirror. There. I need to stop drinking! There! I’ve made up my mind. I can. THERE. It’s done. I’ve had enough. I think of Inuk.<
br />
Inuk always listens, the sweetheart. I need to get a few things off my mind, and he understands. I’m so glad that I survived. Most people would have given up if they’d been through what I have, but I’m still standing. That’s how strong I am! ‘You haven’t been let down and abused and you’ve received a lot of love. You’ll never be able to understand. My mind … My mind has become stronger! My soul has developed so much because I’ve been exposed to such horrific things! My soul …’
I try to explain my feelings but stop when someone walks in through the door. I feel immense joy, get up and run towards her without stopping to think.
‘Ivik!’ I say and give her a hug.
She greets me with a nod. Oh, life’s beautiful!
‘What’s going on? Come in,’ I say, taking her arm and leading her towards the sofa. She’s going to sit next to me.
‘I was invited so I decided to drop by for a bit,’ she says.
‘I’m so glad you came! Did you get my text?’ I ask her.
‘What was it about?’
‘Perhaps you can guess?’ I say, touching her back. I want her.
‘What?’ she asks without looking.
I turn her face towards me and whisper to her.
‘I’ve wanted you ever since the first time I saw you.’
She just smiles and I realise I’ll have to make more of an effort. I’ll do anything, ANYTHING to succeed.
‘Inuk, come here,’ I shout. ‘Come and sit next to us!’
I introduce them to each other as he comes over.
‘Inuk: this is the Ivinnguaq I’ve spoken to you about. Dear Ivinnguaq: this is my best friend, Inuk.’
They say hello, but then go quiet. I put my arm around Inuk’s neck and move closer to Ivik.
‘Inuk’s into men. You’re into women. I like both! Isn’t that cool?’
I start laughing but soon realise that I’m the only one in the group who is.
‘Arnaq!’ Inuk says, pushing me aside. What’s his problem? I ignore him and turn towards Ivik. Because I’m about to hook up with her. It’s now or never.
‘Miki Løvstrøm. You know him, right?’ I say.
Ivik just stares at me.
‘He’s trying to get with Inuk. Isn’t that wild?’
‘What? Did you say Miki Løvstrøm?’ an unknown face, sitting next to us, asks.
‘ARNAQ!’ Inuk shouts.
‘What’s going on?’ another face asks.
‘She says that Miki Løvstrøm’s gay!’ the first unknown face says loudly.
‘Honestly! He has a wife and children!’ someone else says.
‘I’m serious! He’s trying to get it on with Inuk! Isn’t that true, Inuk?’
When Inuk doesn’t answer, I turn towards him, just in time to see the back of him as he sprints out of the door. But my legs are too heavy. I can’t go after him. Everything will be all right. Tomorrow, he probably won’t be pissed at me.
My vision is blurred. My thoughts are all over the place. What’s happening to my body? Someone is inside me. I’m naked. It’s Ivik and I let it happen. I’m relieved it’s a woman. When she stops, I’m not sure. Did I come?
‘Did you call Inuk?’ I hear her say but I don’t quite get it.
‘What?’
‘Did you call Inuk?’ she asks again but I still don’t understand.
‘WHAT?’
‘DID YOU CALL INUK?’
Now my head is a little clearer.
‘No, why?’
‘Call him and apologise,’ I hear her say.
‘Why?’
I don’t understand. She gives me a glass of water and leaves. Everything’s fury … fl … flur … blurry … Blurry. I’m drunk and dying of thirst. What’s going on? Where am I? What time is it? I walk out of this strange room. I wade through a crowd of sleeping people sprawled on the floor. It’s morning. The fucking evil sun shines right at me. I’ve partied till dawn. I need to go home.
Now, it’s all coming back to me. I take a deep breath and hit the call button. Inuk doesn’t answer and I try again. Maybe he’s still sleeping. He doesn’t answer and I try again. Everything will be all right. He’s sure to answer this time. He doesn’t answer and I try again. Come on. Please. He doesn’t answer and I try again. No. He doesn’t answer and I try again. Shit. He doesn’t answer and I try again. I’m dying.
Shit! Crap! Fuck! Drinking is destroying me! My life’s ruined! Fuck this life! My fucking hangover won’t go away. My fucked-up life never goes away. Fuck life! The fucked thing will never go away! Fuck my dad! My fucking dad will never die!
It’s not my fault. It’s my upbringing. I didn’t do anything bad. I didn’t do anything evil. My dad is the evil one. I don’t abuse. I’m the victim here. And what about my mother? She never protected me. She didn’t care. I was neglected and abused: that’s what’s wrong with everything.
I don’t want to drink any more. I’ve made up my mind. I’ll manage it somehow. I’ll make it out. Stop worrying. My thoughts are a torment. Sorrow overwhelms me. I regret so much that everything in me aches. I’m tortured by a terrifying loneliness.
I have to conquer my fear. I have to beat it. There’s nothing else I can do so I make the call and instantly feel nauseous.
‘Honey?’ the bitch says. She’s drunk.
‘Mum, I’m short of cash. Can you put some into my account?’
‘My daughter! You can’t even say hello?’ Trying to parent me now, that’s a laugh.
‘Come on, help me out. I’ve got nothing to eat!’ You’re too late, bitch.
‘Arnaq! Stop it with that tone of voice! Say hello to your dad.’
Oh, God no. Please, no.
‘Sweetheart? My sweet daughter, my darling, my love!’
That motherfucker. His voice makes me want to throw up.
‘I’m out of money. Can you send me some?’
‘My sweet daughter, my darling. I miss you. Do you miss me?’
His voice changes. I recognise this voice. It’s terrifying.
It’s a trick, you know. I give. He gives. I give, he gives. I give, he gives. A trick.
Always has been, always will be. I give, he gives. I give, he gives.
‘Yeah,’ I say, almost inaudibly.
‘Yeah what? Answer me properly.’
Just you wait. When I get my hooks into you one day …
‘Yeah. I miss you.’
Just you wait. I’ll stab you both.
‘Do you miss me a lot?’
‘Yeah, I miss you.’
Just you wait, I’ll murder you.
‘A lot?’
‘Yeah.’
Just you wait.
‘I’ll put some money in your account.’ That’s the trick. I give, he gives. The trick.
I’m starving and go to the baker’s first thing. Not enough money. Card declined. I pull up the hood on my coat and catch the bus. I can hardly stand up. The sun is dazzling. The motion of the bus makes me feel sick but it’s still a long way to go before I’m home. Trying to stay awake. Trying to stay alive. This familiar feeling. People stare. They think: what is she doing? They think: poor thing! I think: I don’t give a fuck. I decide that I just want to go home now. My body makes a sudden decision of its own accord. I get off the bus and almost run into a gaggle of schoolchildren. I need to take the quickest way home. I need to keep moving. A child is afraid of me, asking: ‘Mum, what’s wrong with her?’ The mother says: ‘Don’t look! She’s sick,’ and gives me a dirty look. Shame. Autopilot. A teenager I run past stares at me and asks, ‘What’s she doing, is she right in the head?’ Another mocks me, and says, ‘She’s a slut; just been fucked.’ Embarrassment. My thoughts fall to the ground, blown away by the wind. Disappear. Nothing left. Autopilot. My brain has switched off. Autopilot is switched on. The shame stops. Autopilot takes over. All feeling dies. My body walks on.
The autopilot apparently got my body home because I’m not dead. I regret that I didn’t die. You know, I give, he gives. A
utopilot when I give. Autopilot when it’s over. Autopilot when I’ve sinned. Autopilot when I’m sober. Autopilot forever.
I give, he gives.
I take another bath. Oh, holy weekend. I put on some makeup. Oh, unpredictable weekend. I fix my hair. Oh, erratic weekend. I put on some perfume. Oh, troublemaker weekend. I’m ready. Oh, delightful weekend. I’m partying again. Oh, eternal weekend. Repetitive weekend. Walking in partying circles. Ready to go again.
Last Night in Nuuk Page 6
