A Boy at the Edge of the World
Page 21
“No. I just like cake.”
“I see.”
“Yep.”
“It’s just that every time you come in here, it seems you’re admiring the ceiling.” She glanced at the textbooks in my arms. “How are you finding med school?”
“Expensive.”
She extended her hand. “I’m Nadia, by the way.”
“Daniel.”
She tilted her head to one side. “You really don’t remember me at all, do you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“We’ve met before, two summers ago, at Sneaky Dee’s. I was with my girlfriend Sam. We played a game of pool? Your brother bought us drinks. We all took a cab together to that gay bar.”
“Fly.”
“That’s right. You left without saying good-bye.”
“Shit. I remember. Nadia, of course. Nadia. I am so sorry. That was rude of me. I was really drunk. That was not a good time for me.”
“I know. You’d just broken up with your boyfriend.”
“Who told you that?”
“Your brother.”
“Well, it’d been a few months.”
“Bad break-up?”
“Yes. No. I mean, just weird. The thing is, my best friend had also just moved away, and I was living on my own in this really sketchy neighbourhood, and, well, you know how it is.”
Nadia raised her eyebrows. “You tell me.”
“Well, it was a very distracted time of my life.”
“Distracted?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Nadia nodded.
I cleared my throat. I was not enjoying this conversation. “So do you work here?”
“Mm-hm.” She put her glasses back on and started shelving books again.
“You’ve seen me before?”
“Well, I’m usually working the register up front. I see a lot of people come and go. I’ve noticed you come in a few times.”
“But you are a student.”
“English major.”
“My grandma was a high school English teacher.”
“That’s nice.”
“She passed away a couple weeks ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“On Christmas Eve.”
Nadia put down her books. “Oh.”
I shrugged. “She was pretty old.”
“What was her name?”
“Her name?”
“She had a name.”
“Well, we just called her Grandma or Mémère. But her name was Josette.”
“And is your grandfather alive?”
“Yeah. His name’s Tom. Thomas Garneau.”
“Thomas and Josette. That sounds really nice. Were they a nice couple?”
“More than nice. They were amazing. They were extraordinary. They were so in love. They were married fifty-nine years.”
“That is amazing. Please pass my condolences on to your grandfather.”
“Thank you.” I drew a breath. “She was cremated.” I had no idea why I was still talking. It was like I was inside my body watching myself talking.
“Okay.”
“He plans to scatter her ashes up by the family cottage. We used to go there a lot, the whole family, when we were kids. It’s pretty run down now. We don’t use it too often anymore.”
“A lot of good memories there.”
“Yeah. A lot. The truth is, I haven’t been up there since I was a kid. Liam, that’s our other brother, he keeps talking about how he’s going to fix it up one day and maybe move up there permanently to live. He calls it the Good Medicine Cabin.”
Nadia rested one hand on a shelf. “‘I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.’”
“That’s beautiful,” I said after a moment. “What is that?”
“It’s a famous quote by Thoreau, from Walden. Henry David Thoreau was someone in search of a state of grace.”
“A state of grace?”
“That’s right. You might say it’s what we’re all looking for.”
“Living deliberately.”
“Mm-hm.”
“The title of that book, can you write it down for me? Maybe I’ll get it for my brother.”
“Here, I’ll show you.” Nadia walked past me and I followed. She led me to the literary nonfiction section where it took her less than a minute to pull out a slim, green volume. “Here you go. For the price of a coffee and a slice of cake.”
“I’m shocked.”
“You can also buy it used if you like. Save yourself a dollar or two.”
“No. I can afford this. Walden; Or Life in the Woods. Thanks, I’ll take it.”
“So, can I buy you a slice of cake?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m on my lunch break in ten minutes.” She studied me calmly, resting one hand on her hip.
I wanted to let her know I was gay, but I realized she knew that already. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized this girl knew more about me than most people did. She was beautiful, confident and smart. “Um, sure. Okay,” I said. “Sure.”
Later that evening, over dinner at home, David asked me what was on my mind. “Why do you think anything’s on my mind?” I replied.
“Well, for starters, I just told you I’d jacked off in the cacciatore, and you thought that was nice.”
I stared at him with my mouth full of bread. “I did.” I chewed and swallowed. “Sorry. This really is delicious, by the way. Sorry.”
“That’s okay.” David reached over and wiped some sauce from my chin with his thumb. “So what is on your mind?”
“I met this girl.”
“Alright.”
“I mean, we’d met before. But today we went out for coffee. She bought me cake.”
“You love cake.”
“I know.”
“Okay.”
“Well, we had an good time.”
“Okay.”
“I felt like I was cheating on Karen.”
“Interesting.”
“Do you think I was cheating on Karen?”
“What sort of dumbass question is that?” David laughed. “Dude! C’mon. What do you think?”
“Well, it felt like I was.”
“Take it up with Karen. But no, for the record, you weren’t cheating on Karen. Did this girl give you a ring?”
“No.”
“Well, there you go.”
I stared at my plate. “I don’t have it anymore.”
“What?”
“Karen’s ring.”
“You lost it?”
“No.”
“I remember you used to wear it all the time.”
“I did.”
“So where is it?”
I poked at my cacciatore. “I gave it away?”
“You what?”
“I gave it to this guy.”
“A guy?”
“It’s not what it sounds like. It was this homeless person. He was this native guy, Cree. He really liked my ring.”
“The ring Karen gave you as a graduation present? The one she got custom-made for you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well. You must have had a good reason.”
“I did.”
“Alright. Did you tell Karen?”
“No. Not yet. I don’t think she’s noticed yet.”
“But she will.”
“Probably.”
“You better tell her before she notices.”
“I guess so.”
David got up and brought back two fresh beers from the fridge. “So you had a good time with this girl.”
“Her name’s Nadia. She invited me out on her lunch break. She’s slept with Pat.”
“What?”
“She’s had sex with Pat. It was just a thing.”
“Small world.”
“Well, I was with Pat the first time we all met. I think Nadia might’ve slept with him more than once. She didn’t go into details. But she did tell me she and her best friend got into a really bad fight over it. It almost ruined their friendship. Apparently Pat was sleeping with both of them at the same time.”
“Did he know they were best friends?”
“Yeah.”
David drank from his bottle. “Hmm.”
“Well, they made up, Nadia and her best friend. Now they both think Pat’s an asshole. Nadia says it’s people like Pat who give guys a bad name.”
“Okay. Can’t blame them.”
“It was an asshole thing to do.”
“Not cool.”
“She didn’t hold it over me though.”
“Glad to hear that.”
“I mean, he’s my brother, right? But Pat, he’s like, he’s got this image of himself. He’s always been this golden boy. He always thinks he’s right. But sometimes I don’t think he realizes how he makes other people feel. I want to think that, because the alternative is, he does know how he makes people feel and he actually doesn’t care. And then that really makes him an asshole.”
“You’re brother’s a good guy. He’s just, well. He’s like a straight version of me.”
“Did you sleep around a lot?”
“I did.” David sat back. “I did. Until I met this one guy. A friend set us up. We met at a concert downtown. It was his birthday. He’d just turned twenty-one. He was tall, dark and handsome. He had this amazing smile. He had great teeth. He flosses every day, you know. He was sexy as hell. It was love at first sight, for me anyway. He’s going to be a doctor. I let him practice on me all the time. I’m going to marry him one day. He’s going to wear my ring. One day. Definitely. I’m going to make it happen.”
“David, you’re twenty-three years old. And you want to get married?”
“Not tomorrow. But one day.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He grabbed his crotch. “Because I can feel it here.” He rested a hand on his stomach, and on his chest. “And here, and here.” He touched his brow. “Then you can’t help but start thinking it here. You know what I mean? I also want us to be dads.”
“You and me, you know we’re just, we’re just kids playing at being adults, don’t you?”
After a moment, David put down his fork. “Is that how you feel abut this?”
“What?”
“This, Daniel.” He opened his arms. “Us.”
“I don’t know what to feel.”
“Why the fuck is it so hard for you to feel?”
“Because,” I exclaimed. “Because my life is fucked up.”
“Well I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but everyone’s life is fucked up. Everyone’s. You’re not that special. You don’t have some monopoly on fucked-upness. We’re all fucked up and we’re all doing the best we can. Your grandparents did it, Nadia and her friend are doing it, and you and I are doing it.”
“They were drinking, you know.”
“What?”
“My parents. My mom and dad, they’d been drinking. It was Saturday night, and they were coming back from a party. They rolled their car because they were drunk and they were driving. Then their car caught on fire. Thank god they didn’t hurt anyone.”
“How do you know that?”
“Grandma told me. I was twelve years old. I was just a kid. Why would she say that to me unless it was true? She told me and then she forgot she even told me. I think Grandpa must’ve told her. That’s how they died. And that’s the reason why Grandpa had to put Grandma in the nursing home. He couldn’t take care of her and us at the same time, not by himself. So he had to make a choice. So he put her in a fucking nursing home.”
“Do your brothers know?”
“No! I’ve never told them that. I’m never going to tell them that. You’re the only person I’ve told in my entire life. I haven’t even told Karen that. You can’t tell anyone, David. I am so, so angry at my parents, David, you have no idea.”
“Okay. Okay. Come here.” When I stood, he walked around the table and held me. He stroked my head, and he pressed his nose against my ear. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay.” I was shaking and I was crying and I was so ashamed, but he kept saying it was okay, over and over again. After a while, I started to actually believe him. And the moment I did, I stopped crying, not all at once, but gradually. He kissed my neck, and my jaw, and the tears streaming down my cheeks. Then he stood back and held me by the shoulders. His eyes were locked to mine, but I didn’t want to look at him because I knew I was all red-faced and puffy. “It’s okay,” he whispered.
“Oh, shit,” I said breathlessly. I blew my nose in a napkin.
“You wanna sit down?”
I sat down on the couch. David sat next to me, one hand on my knee. I put my hand on top of his. I felt empty and hollow. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this way. Eventually, I drew a big breath and straightened. “Well, that was weird.”
“Don’t,” David said.
“What?”
“It’s okay.”
Then when he said that, I started crying again, the way rain might start again, after a thunderstorm lets up briefly. I cried this way for a while, curled up on the couch next to him. Then, feeling exhausted and completely spent, I lay down in his lap and fell asleep.
In March, I met Charles at Mick E. Fynn’s, a sports bar just outside the Village, across from Maple Leaf Gardens. It was one of our old haunts and we sat at our favourite table close to the big screen TV. Sporting paraphernalia and neon beer signs decorated the walls. Charles had been something of a recluse lately, having started his dissertation. We hadn’t seen each other since dim sum back in October, and I was surprised at how fit he looked. Charles explained to me how, since the New Year, he and Megan had both been on a strict diet and exercise regimen. “You two seem to be getting pretty serious,” I said.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, for one thing, you’ve been together how long?”
“Three years this month.”
“That’s a long time.”
Charles blinked owlishly. “Can I confide in you, Daniel?”
“Sure. Of course you can.”
“It hasn’t always been easy.”
“It never is.”
“For a period of time, I was starting to question whether or not Megan and I were even sexually compatible.”
“Oh?”
“She’s very fastidious.”
“Okay.”
“And controlling.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Oh, no, don’t be. We’ve worked it out. Things are better than ever. We’ve both been opening up, getting in touch with our needs.”
“Your needs?”
“Back in November, Daniel, we got ourselves a strap-on. After that, for Christmas, we went out shopping together for all sorts of toys.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“We’ve also been taking a tantric yoga class for lovers.”
“Seriously?”
“It has been quite the adventure, if I do say so myself. I’m wearing a butt plug right now.”
“What?”
“I’m wearing—”
“No, I heard you the first time.” I sat back. “Charles.” The waitress brought us another round and cleared our glasses. “Like, right now?”
Charles sipped from his Guinness and nodded, knuckling the foam from his lip.
“How does it feel?”
“Stimulating.”
“Like, how stimulating?”
Charles folded his large hands on the table. “Well, there is a pleasurable sensation of fullness. I can also place additional pressure on my prostate at any time, just by doing so.” Surreptitiously, he picked up the drinks menu, and shifted in his chair.
“Wow.”
Charles shifted again, setting down the menu, and regarded me expectantly.
“Wow. I mean, you’d never know.”
“That is the idea. Megan also likes the idea of me going about my whole day plugged.”
“When do you take it out?”
“When she tells me to take it out. I’ve grown accustomed to it now. Over time, it starts to become part of your lifestyle, something you just do, like putting shoes on before leaving the house.”
“Really?”
“It’s more discreet than, say, a collar, and more intimate. Sometimes she also has me wear her underwear.”
“Sometimes?”
Charles nodded.
“Right now?”
“I am. Megan’s a petite woman and I’m a large man, so it is somewhat uncomfortable. But between the plug and the woman’s lingerie, I’m aroused almost all the time. These last five months have been transformative for us.”
“Gee, Charles. I don’t know what to say. I’m happy for you guys. This sounds great.”
“It is great, Daniel. I’ve proposed to her.”
“What?”
“I asked Megan yesterday to marry me.”
Pool players in plaid shirts and torn jeans slapped each other on the back, and raised a toast. The Major League season was about to start, and the networks were showcasing home-run highlights from past games. “Charles,” I said, “holy shit, that’s fantastic. Congratulations.”
“She didn’t say yes.”
“What?”
Charles drew a shaky breath. “She didn’t say no, either. She said she needed time to think about it.”
“Okay. Okay, that happens. It’s a big decision. People need time to think about these kinds of things.”
“I was so sure she was going to say yes. She was giving every indication we were compatible partners.” Charles broad brow glistened. “Do you think I was premature in asking her?”
“Well, it has been three years.”
“I used to think,” Charles said, “the basis of sexual and romantic attraction could be adequately explained by evolutionary psychology and cognitive neuroscience.” He got up and started pacing. “What are human emotions but the measurable operations of brain chemicals: dopamine, oxytocin, adrenaline, vasopressin? Except now, I’m not so sure.” He made a pained expression and shook his head. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I’m starting to think there is something more.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Um, I should hope so. Charles, sit down.”
“Even talking about it,” Charles observed, “raises my heart rate.” He sat down, pulled out a pad of paper and started scribbling notes.