“Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Sure.”
“What are you in the mood for?”
“You pick one.”
“Happy or sad?”
“Happy. No, sad. No, happy. I dunno. You pick.”
I fell asleep on the couch while Parker was still browsing through my movie collection. When I woke up, the curtains had been drawn, and someone had covered me with a blanket. I found Chinese take-out on the dining table, still warm in its white cardboard boxes, with extra plum sauce and soy sauce in little plastic packets, along with a handful of cellophane-wrapped fortune cookies. Parker had set out my Collector’s Edition copy of The Wizard of Oz on the DVD player. The towels and dirty clothes had all been picked up in the washroom, and my bed had been made. There was a single text on my phone: GONE SHOPPING. ENJOY JUDY. KEEP GOING. AUDREY.
Marcus and I broke up on Valentine’s Day. Marcus wanted to keep our relationship open and experiment with a threesome with Fang. After New Year’s Eve, I sure as hell wasn’t about to call the kettle black. For a while, I tried my best, but I couldn’t get on board. Pat had introduced the word polyamory to me, but it always remained just a word. You don’t pick and choose the people you love. Fang was friendly enough, but I think deep down he found me boring. Then I started to wonder if Marcus did too. The last straw came when we were having Valentine’s dinner at the 360 Restaurant in the CN Tower. During appetizers, Marcus remarked that he’d invited Fang to join us for drinks afterwards. He’d made arrangements for the three of us to sample ice wines in the restaurant’s Cellar in the Sky which, at 351 metres above sea level, was apparently the highest in the world.
To my own surprise, we got into a fight over it and I walked away before the main course was served. The restaurant revolved slowly, offering a panoramic view of the city in the wintry dark 351 metres below. Sex with Marcus and Fang had been exciting, at first. Maybe, in the end, I was the jealous type. I took off my tie and flung it aside. I walked along the LookOut level, unfastening the top buttons of my shirt. My hands were trembling.
Marcus caught up to me standing on the Glass Floor. At night, it was difficult to gauge the distance to the ground. But I could sense the vast, windy emptiness falling away beneath our feet. He stood next to me, arms clasped behind his back, gazing down below.
“I’m sorry, Daniel,” he finally said. “I should’ve asked you first. I thought you’d be pleased.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“I can see that.”
“It’s Valentine’s Day, for chrissake.”
“Like I said, I thought you’d be pleased.”
If the glass broke now we’d both plummet to our deaths. “I guess I’m just old-fashioned that way.”
“Yes, you are. It’s what I love about you the most. It’s been unfair of me to have imposed Fang on us the way I have.”
“Well, I opened that door, didn’t I?”
“No. That door was open long ago. You just walked us through it.”
“Are you still in love with him? Is that what it is?”
“I never stop loving my lovers, no matter what difficulties end my relationships. I always remember what I loved about them the most.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“It’s the best answer I have.”
“Marwa says you stay friends with all of them.”
“I do. I try. My friends are my family. They’re all that I have. You’ve met my parents.”
“Sure.”
“Do you remember the first time you asked me out?”
“Yes.”
“No one’s ever asked me out on a date. Ever. When you asked me, Daniel, it was momentous.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean just that. I know what effect I have on people. I awe people. I intimidate people. I sometimes do it on purpose. But most times, it just happens. People think I’m out of their league. If they only knew how starved I am for attention of any kind. I’d have coffee with a street person if they asked me to.”
“That’s why you accepted my invitation?”
“Also because you’re handsome and shy, and you seemed interested in my work. And because you quoted the Globe & Mail article about me when we were at The Beaver. And because you have the most beautiful, genuine smile in the world, when you do smile. And because you’re simple.”
“Simple?”
“Simple, Daniel. Like a glass of water. Or a pane of glass.”
I pondered this for a moment. “Marcus, look, I can’t keep seeing you when Fang’s in the picture. I regret what I did New Year’s Eve. I regret it a lot. I knew exactly what I was doing, and I did it anyway.”
“Daniel, what happened happened. If it didn’t happen that way, it still would’ve happened.”
“Marwa says she caters all your parties. She’s a drug dealer. Were you expecting it to turn out the way it did?”
“My friends, they’re artists, they’re free spirits.”
“Marcus, cut the bullshit, please. Just tell me, were you expecting things to end up as a sex party?”
“Yes,” he said. “I was.”
“You could’ve warned me.”
“I didn’t think something like that needed warning. I treat my friends as adults.”
“It’d be nice to be treated as a boyfriend too.”
“That,” Marcus said, his brow creasing, “is such a quaint and old-fashioned label.”
“You didn’t tell me you’d invited all your old boyfriends to the party.”
“They’re my friends, alright? You took off your pants first, Daniel. Not me.”
My hands felt numb. Beneath us, I felt the glass crack. “So are you going to keep seeing him?”
“He’s special, like you. I’d really like the three of us to work.”
“Well, that’s not happening.”
“Fang and I go back a long way.”
“Okay.” My throat felt constricted. I struggled to breathe. “Then we’re done here, aren’t we?”
“That’s one option.”
“There are no options here!”
“This kind of black-and-white thinking saddens me.”
I wanted to say, “Fuck you, Marcus,” but I didn’t. He hadn’t done anything wrong. I just wanted him to fight more for me. I wanted him to sacrifice more for me. I was shocked and unnerved how easy this appeared to be for him. I was freefalling again, and it was familiar, and it was cold and it was awful. When he handed me my tie, looking like an angel, like a martyr, I wanted to choke him with it. But I didn’t. Instead, I just thanked him and folded it carefully and placed it in the pocket of my blazer. I even let him take my hand as he walked me to the elevator. He embraced me until the elevator doors opened. He waved goodbye. It was a long, long way down. He was still waving when the elevator doors closed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Brother Down
“Marcus Wittenbrink Jr.,” said Karen, “is a narcissistic prick. You really need to forget about him, Daniel.” We watched as a butcher expertly dismembered a side of beef, his white smock stained with blood. It was a bright Saturday afternoon in April and we were browsing through St. Lawrence Market in Old Town Toronto. Even though we were indoors, I kept my sunglasses on. Final exams were a week away, but I’d barely even started studying. “Have you had sex with anyone,” Karen asked, “since the two of you broke up?”
“No.”
“Well, you should at least go on a date. It’ll help take your mind off things.”
“Who says I want to take my mind off things?”
“You want to get back together with him, is that it?”
“No. He treated me badly.”
“Then what is it, Daniel? You’ve been moping around for months. This isn’t like you.”
The butcher worked confidently and methodically. He was young and stocky, with chest hair poking up over the collar of his shirt. Briefly, he glanced up at Karen and me, nodded and smiled. Karen waved back. I imagined myself lying
on his block, naked and pale, neatly eviscerated, my internal organs in a bloody pile set to one side.
“Whatever happened to the Horned God, paragon of male virility?”
“What?”
Karen made an exasperated sound and grabbed my elbow. “C’mon.” We made our way through the cavernous South Market crowded with fruit and vegetable stalls, fish and meats, racks of marinades, preserves and cheeses. We stopped in front of a glass display lined with pies and cakes where Karen bought half a dozen Portuguese tarts. She also bought an extra-large tea and coffee before leading the way outside. We crossed the busy avenue and sat by a fountain facing the sunshine. Distant skyscrapers dwarfed the red wedge of Toronto’s Flatiron building down Front Street. “You’re subletting the apartment to Pat this summer?” Karen handed me the coffee.
“Yeah, Pat and his girlfriend Blonde Dawn. They might take over the lease in the fall if things work out.”
“I’m going to miss that place.”
“Me too.”
Karen passed me a tart. “We had a lot of good times in that apartment.”
“We did.”
“Mike and Melissa and baby Benjamin are moving into their condo next month.”
“Well, they’ve got a family to raise now.” I observed the pigeons milling underfoot, the sidewalk vendors, the green buds speckling the branches of the trees. “So I’ve lined up a few bachelor apartments.”
“I thought you and Parker were going to find a place together.”
“That was his idea. We still might this fall.”
“Why don’t you just stay with Pat and his girlfriend for the summer? It’s only four months.”
“I think I’m just needing my own space for a while.”
“Daniel, am I going to have to worry about you?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“When does med school get back to you?”
“Next month.”
“Well, I’m sure you’re going to get in.”
“Thanks.”
“You’ll let me know when you hear from them?”
“Okay.”
“Here. I got you something.”
“Karen.”
She brushed the crumbs from her hands and rummaged out a small box from her back pack. “To commemorate our three years in Toronto, and the future.” She sat back. “Open it.”
I opened the lid. It was a man’s ring, silver and gold, etched with a quartered circle inlaid with four different coloured stones. I took off my sunglasses. “Oh wow, Karen.”
“That’s onyx, opal, coral and jasper. It’s a medicine wheel. Each colour has a different meaning: resilience and calm, courage and clarity.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Put it on.” Karen sipped from her tea. “I got it custom-made. How does it feel?”
“It feels good. It’s perfect. Thank you.” It did fit perfectly. “This really means a lot to me. Thank you. I love it.” I gave her a hug. “I got you something too.”
“Fuck off. What is it?”
“A graduation present. Close your eyes.”
“What for?”
“Close your eyes.”
“What it is?”
“Will you just close your eyes?”
Karen squeezed shut her eyes. I took out her gift, opened it and sat close next to her. Today, Karen had pulled her hair up into an unruly bun, so it wasn’t hard to reach around and clasp the thin chain around her neck. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”
She looked down and held the pendant in her hands. When she didn’t say anything, I cleared my throat. “I have matching earrings too. Here.” I held out the thin box. Karen brushed back a wisp of hair from her face. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered.
“You deserve it.”
When she looked up, her eyes were bright. “These are really expensive, Daniel.”
“Well, like I said, you’re amazing. You deserve it.”
Karen wiped away a tear. “Thanks.”
“You okay?”
“I’ve just never owned a real pearl necklace before.”
It was a single teardrop freshwater pearl mounted in sterling silver. I’d gotten the set at The Bay months ago. New green tulip leaves were pushing up through the thawed earth. The breeze blowing in from the lake raised goosebumps on my arms, but the sunshine was warm. “Well, now you do. We’ve come a long way, Karen Fobister, you and me. I’m going to miss you.”
“Daniel Garneau, I’m going to miss you too.”
That summer, Karen moved back to Manitoulin where she’d been offered a full-time job at the Ojibwe Cultural Foundation. I found myself a bachelor apartment in the basement of a townhouse by Dundas and Sherbourne. It was close to downtown and the best I could afford. The apartment itself was spacious enough, with two deadbolts on the front door, and bars on all the windows. I was blocks from a strip club / hotel called Filmores, as well as Toronto’s largest homeless shelter. Fights and drug deals in the streets were common. I made sure to carry my bike inside every day, and took to wearing my headphones just so no one would bother me. Pat and his girlfriend Blonde Dawn helped me move, and had me over for dinner that first weekend. Blonde Dawn made matzah balls and a chicken casserole. I brought flowers in a vase, and a magnum of Chardonnay. After three years, it was strange to think the apartment wasn’t mine anymore. Blonde Dawn wasn’t what I expected. She was smart, no-nonsense and more than direct.
“Here, Dan,” she said over dinner, “I’m giving this to you, just in case.” She rummaged in her gym bag and handed me a small black canister. “It’s pepper spray. Keep it on you. Dundas and Sherbourne is not a pretty part of town.” She wasn’t drinking that night as she had to work that same evening. It was her first shift as a Toronto EMS ambulance worker. At the door, she grabbed Pat by the jaw, kissed him on the mouth, slapped him on the ass and pointed at the sink. “Dishes.” Then she rapped his belt buckle with her keys. “And don’t jack off. Bye, Dan. And thanks again for the vase.”
“Wow,” I said, after she was gone. “Is she always like that?”
Pat refilled both our glasses, emptying the bottle. “Her mom and dad divorced years ago. She’s the oldest of five kids. Yeah, she’s always like that.”
“What’s with the tattoos?”
“She loves her ink, what can I say? Here, check it out.” Pat lifted his shirt. Over his heart in bold black script were the words: BLONDE DAWN.
“Oh man. Pat, that’s pretty serious.”
“I got it done for Valentine’s Day. We are serious, man. We’re in love.”
“Okay. Okay, good for you guys. I’m happy for you guys.”
“I know what you’re thinking. But if we ever break up, she’ll still always be my first.” Pat sprawled in the love seat. “And if I ever do end up with someone else, well, then they’re just going to have to be open-minded enough to understand and appreciate that.”
“Did you tell her about the Three Amigas?”
“Look, last summer we agreed we’d see other people, so I wasn’t cheating on her, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was her idea. She was heading up north to go tree planting. How many girls do you think go tree planting up north?”
“Very few, I take it.”
“Well as it turns out, there was this other chick but she like breaks a nail and drops out the first day, so Blonde Dawn ends up the only girl on a crew with eleven guys out in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. Ten weeks, man, ten weeks out in the bush. You have to be realistic about these kinds of things.”
“So did you tell her or not?”
“We have a kind of don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy.”
“So you didn’t tell her.”
“We’re not always super strict about it.”
“Super strict about what?”
“Don’t-ask-don’t-tell. I mean sometimes we do talk about it, you know? Sometimes it’s hot.”
“Really?”
“Sure, really. We’re open that way. It ca
n be a turn-on to hear how other guys find your girlfriend hot. Or your boyfriend or whatever. You just have to both be down with it. It’s all about trust, man. Blonde Dawn and I, we trust each other.”
I thought of the times Marcus and I got together with Trevor Fang since the New Year. Marcus had wanted the three of us to fuck without condoms, but I hadn’t been down with that. I hadn’t been down with a lot of things.
“To answer your question, Dan, no I haven’t told her about the Three Amigas. But one day maybe I will.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Alright, whatever. It’s cool. Carolina says hola, by the way.”
I realized I’d started washing the dishes piled in the sink. I put down the casserole pot, dried my hands, and walked away from the kitchen. I’d washed enough of Pat’s dirty dishes during my lifetime. I wasn’t about to start up again. “Who?”
“Carolina. I’m on Facebook with her, sometimes we Skype. She’s back in Colombia.”
“And what about the others?”
“Yuka and Sindija? I’m on Facebook with them too, they’re all good. But I message with Carolina the most. You never replied to their Friend Requests.”
“I’m not really into the Facebook thing anymore these days.”
“Alright, Dan, what’s going on? You’ve been acting like a zombie all week.”
“Well, Karen’s gone. I dunno. I didn’t get into med school.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean my application was rejected.”
“What. Aw, shit. I’m sorry to hear that. That sucks big time. So, like, are you kicked out?”
“What? No, Pat. No. It just means I didn’t get in. I’ll be going into my fourth year undergrad. I can apply again next year.”
“Definitely. You do that. Don’t give up.” Pat jabbed a finger at me. “Don’t ever give up.”
“Did I mention I broke up with my boyfriend?”
“When did that happen?”
“A couple months ago.”
“A couple months ago?” Pat rolled his eyes. “Okay, well, sorry to hear that. You were dating that actor guy, right?”
“Marcus.”
“How long were you seeing each other?”
“Five months.”
A Boy at the Edge of the World Page 12
