Traplines

by Eden Robinson

  “Why?” Tom said.

  “When we were kids you thought I was your brother.” Jeremy wiped his hands on the table and the finger puppets smeared across the surface.

  “Right,” Tom said, snorting.

  “It’s true.”

  Jeremy looked down at his fingers. “Your mom wrote me all the time. She was always bragging what a good kid you were. Did you know that? I can show you the letters.”

  For once, Jeremy looked completely serious. “No. It’s okay.”

  Jeremy didn’t smile. “Is it?”

  “Yeah,” Tom said. “It is.”

  Jeremy dropped him off at Mike’s. Tom didn’t feel like spending the day with his cousin. He told Jeremy he was going over to Mike’s to study. Mike was in the backyard shooting hoops. He stopped and stared at the car. He whistled.

  Jeremy said, “I’ll pick you up later.”

  “I know how to get home,” Tom said. “Hey, Mike. This is my cousin Jeremy. Jeremy, this is Mike McConnell.”

  Mike didn’t move.

  Jeremy saluted, then got in the car and drove away.

  “Jaguar XJS coupe, 1992,” Mike said. “Only three silver cars that year. You never said your family was rich.”

  “He is,” Tom said. “I’m not. Is it safe to go in?”

  Mike mugged exasperation. “About as safe as a nuclear plant. Man, they are so fucked. Do you know how much it’s worth?”

  “What?”

  “The car.”

  Tom shook his head.

  “He buy you those clothes?”

  Tom looked at Mike, who was suddenly thoughtful. “The haircut too.”

  “What a fucking weirdo,” Mike said.

  “You don’t even know him.”

  Mike shook his head. “I know a fucking weirdo when I see one and he is a fucking weirdo.”

  Patricia had not thawed yet, so they stayed outside farting around. Mike couldn’t leave the yard because he was grounded for two weeks. It made him edgy and hard to be with.

  Mike went in to get them Pepsis. Tom waited at the picnic table. He saw the kitchen curtain move and felt uncomfortable, the way he had in the beginning when he’d first started hanging around with Mike and Patricia had thought he was a bad influence.

  Mike came back and handed him a can. Mike popped his and chugged it in one gulp, then burped, loud and long.

  “You could be a fucking foghorn,” Tom said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “You know my mom,” Mike said, ignoring him. “She was real nice. But every night she put me in the tub and poured Lysol over me.” Mike crushed the can on his knee. He burped again. “Want to stay for dinner?”

  “Can’t.”

  “Watch yourself,” Mike said, with his usual zigzag logic.

  Tom was glad when Jeremy showed up and honked. Mike watched him leave with such a solemn expression Tom almost laughed. As they drove away, Mike held up two fingers in a victory sign, then pointed them at his eyes. Tom grinned. He’d completely forgotten that, their secret language. Abort Mission, it meant. They’re on to you.

  “Jail by twenty,” Jeremy said, looking in his rearview mirror.

  “What?”

  “Thug material if I ever saw it,” Jeremy said.

  “He’s okay,” Tom said.

  Jeremy shook his head. “You won’t trust me, but you’ll trust that?”

  He didn’t want to make a big thing out of this. “Mike’s a good guy.”

  Jeremy turned the radio on.

  Tom insisted, “He’s just had some bad breaks.”

  “Who hasn’t?” Jeremy said.

  Screw you too, he wanted to say. Jeremy left him off in front of the building. Tom didn’t know what to think of either of them. Tired and disgusted, he went up to make himself dinner.

  Jeremy dragged him out of bed sometime after midnight, high and happy. Woozy, Tom tried to get out of his grip, but Jeremy dragged him into the kitchen.

  “Coffee?” Jeremy said.

  “What time is it?” Tom said. “Do you even know what time it is? I’ve got an eight—”

  “Whine, whine, whine,” Jeremy said. “Nope. Don’t you dare leave this room. You’ve got to stay here and keep me company.”

  Tom put his head in his hands and yawned. God, the only thing worse than a drunk is a druggie.

  “You’ve got to tell me what it feels like,” Jeremy said.

  “What?”

  “You know.”

  Tom glared impatiently. “What? I’m not a mind reader.”

  Jeremy winked. “You know.” He fell off his chair and started jerking around.

  “Fuck,” Tom said, starting to leave. “Fuck you.”

  Jeremy leaped up and blocked his way. “So? Tell me.”

  “Why don’t you jump out that window, land on your head, and you can find out for yourself.”

  Jeremy whooped and ran around the kitchen.

  “Fuck,” Tom said, spooked. “Fuck, you’re gone.”

  Jeremy hopped up on the counter. Suddenly he turned serious. “I dropped you on your head, you know.”

  Tom said, “I’m going back to bed.”

  “I was babysitting and I pushed you and you fell down the stairs.” Jeremy toppled over, landed with a thunk on the kitchen floor and didn’t move.

  “Jeremy?” Tom said. “Jeremy, quit screwing around.”

  Jeremy stayed sprawled where he was. Tom went over to him and nudged him with his foot.

  “It’s not funny, Jeremy.”

  Jeremy pretended to convulse. Tom left him there, thrashing on the kitchen floor, and went back to his room.

  He was dozing when Jeremy hopped on him. “Say you forgive me?”

  Tom tried to push him off, exasperated. “Oh, for—Jeremy, it wasn’t your fault. I was epileptic way before you started babysitting me, for Christ’s sake. Get off!”

  “Really?” Jeremy said.

  “Really,” Tom said. “Now can I get back to sleep?”

  Jeremy looked weepy. “You’re a good kid, Tommy boy. You’re a super kid.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m great. Now get off. Please. Pretty please.”

  “I’m going to watch out for you. Yes, I am.”

  “Jeremy, what the hell are you on?”

  “I’m high on life!” Jeremy shouted.

  “Life, huh?” Tom said.

  “And you’d better listen to me,” Jeremy said, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t know what kind of freaks are out there. You know what they can do to you? Do you?” He put his hands around Tom’s throat and squeezed just enough to make him lose his breath. “Are you going to listen to me?”

  Tom nodded, trying to pry Jeremy’s fingers off.

  Jeremy let go. “Good. Good. No more tricks. No more lying. Don’t you go lying about me to your mother. You hear me?”

  Tom rubbed his throat. “Yes.”

  “You be good.” That said, Jeremy stumbled out of the room.

  When he woke up, Jeremy was gone. Tom borrowed some tools from a neighbor. He talked the guy at the hardware store into giving him a cheap deadbolt. When his mom came she could damn well pound on the door to wake him up. He wasn’t putting up with Jeremy a minute longer.

  That night he woke when he heard a key in the door.

  “Tom!” Jeremy shouted. “Tommy! Wake up! The door’s locked. Tommy!”

  He pounded on the door until one of the neighbors yelled down the hall that he was calling the police. The pounding stopped. Tom closed his eyes and exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

  And that is that.

  Paulina.

  Tom stopped at the open gym doors, hesitating.

  “What’s the matter?” Mike said, jogging in place.

  “It’s her,” Tom said, stepping back inside, out of Paulina’s sight.

  “Man,” Mike said. “She is way too old for you.”

  “Do we have a problem, ladies?” Greigerson bellowed across the gym.

  “No problem,” Mike
said cheerfully. “Just taking a breather.”

  “Drop and give me twenty-five. Maybe that’ll improve your lung power.”

  Mike muttered, “What a fucking—”

  “Do you have a problem with that, McConnell?”

  Mike put his hands up. “No problem here, sir. You got a problem with that, Tom?”

  “Nope.”

  “I could just as easily make it fifty, smart-ass.”

  Tom dropped and had done ten push-ups by the time Mike was ready to do one.

  “Shit,” Mike said, wiping the floor. “My new shorts too. Slow down, man, you’re making me look bad.”

  “He’s watching,” Tom said, not looking at Mike.

  “So? Let him. What can he do?”

  “Mr. McConnell!” Greigerson bellowed. “I said give me twenty-five!”

  Mike did army push-ups while Greigerson was watching and girl push-ups when he wasn’t. Tom counted off his last five, then stood and shook his arms out.

  “Wait for me,” Mike said.

  “And get another twenty-five?”

  “Twenty-four, and five, and done!”

  “You bullshitter,” Tom said, laughing. “He’s not going to believe that.”

  Mike grinned. When they started laps again, Greigerson said nothing.

  “I can’t believe you got away with it,” Tom said.

  “It’s all in the mind,” Mike said, tapping his temple.

  “It’s all in the bullshit, you mean.”

  “If you can talk, ladies, you’re not going fast enough,” Greigerson said as they ran by him.

  “I bet he’s got a swastika over his bed,” Mike muttered.

  When Tom passed the open gym doors, he could see Paulina looking at him. He almost dropped dead but managed just to stumble a bit and bump into Mike.

  “What the hell?” Mike said.

  “Look.”

  “What?”

  “Wait till we go by again.”

  Tom slowed as they went past the doors. Paulina waved. She’s looking for Jeremy, he thought. Come on. Breathe.

  “Mazenkowski. Bizarre chick,” Mike said.

  Greigerson yelled at them to pick up the pace. A stitch was starting in Tom’s side. He slipped outside, carefully closing the doors.

  Paulina was smoking on the steps. He pushed his hair back, stopped, and was about to turn around and go inside when she looked up.

  “Hi,” she said.

  He desperately needed to sit down. “Hi.”

  She held out her cigarette, offering him a drag. He shook his head. “We’ve probably got to run for another six hours. It’d kill me.”

  “If you were a girl,” she said, “all you’d have to do is lean over and say, ‘My cramps are totally bad today. I am, like, gushing.’ Seriously, Greigerson can’t take that shit.” She laughed. “One month I had my period six times and he never even asked for a note.”

  Tom was shocked, horrified, and delighted. He was sitting there beside her and she was talking to him. She was close enough that he could see the delicate fuzz on her face. The sun made her hair glow like silk. She power sucked the cigarette down to its butt and flicked it onto the ground.

  “Jeremy said you did some pot,” Paulina said. “You know where I can get some?”

  Tom blinked. “Pot?”

  “Yeah. Just a baggie. I don’t get paid this week. Just to unwind, you know.”

  “Sure,” Tom said.

  “Sure you got some or sure you like to unwind?”

  “Both,” Tom said.

  “Can I take some off your hands?” She smiled at him and if he’d had any on him, all of it would have been hers.

  “Sure,” he said, amazed his voice wasn’t cracking. “It’s in my locker.”

  “Your locker?” she said incredulously. “Are you nuts? What, you want to get caught?”

  Tom opened his mouth and nothing came out. He couldn’t speak.

  “You’ll learn,” she said, smiling again. “What’s your last class?”

  “Bio.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you on the drive.”

  Tom bit his lip. “What about Jeremy?”

  “What about him?”

  “Are you, um.” He cleared his throat. “You know, seeing him?”

  Her smile became forced. “With a little therapy he’ll be capable of acting like a fucking human being.”

  Tom said quietly, “What did he do?”

  She opened her mouth, then hesitated. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” She stood up and brushed herself off. “I’ll wait for you at the bus stop. Don’t forget the stuff.” She pecked him on the lips. Her mouth was soft. He floated inside.

  “Greigerson wants to see you,” Mike said.

  Tom touched his lips. “She likes me!” He whooped and spun around.

  “Whacked,” Mike said, and shook his head.

  Things were better at Mike’s house. Evan let him in even though Patricia’s expression was ominous. He played Street Fighter II with Mike until dinnertime but decided not to test Patricia’s patience and went home.

  Paulina had met him at the bus stop. Tom couldn’t remember what they’d talked about but she’d laughed at something he said. And then, after he gave her the pot, she’d kissed him again, in front of people. She’d said if he had any more, he could bring it to a party some friends of hers were throwing.

  It was a great day. The sky was pale blue. He hadn’t seen Jeremy for three days. Jeremy had paid the phone bill before he left. All they had to worry about now was Mastercard and Visa. And next month’s rent. Still, they were better off than they had been. He’d had a good interview at Red Robin’s for a prep cook. The guy there had known Angie, his old boss. They had talked about Chuckie’s, about school, just chatted. He rolled his bike into the elevator. Someone must have mopped it, because the piss smell was gone.

  “I’m home!” he called out.

  “Tom!” his mother said, excited. “I’ve got a surprise for you!”

  He left the bike where it was. “What?”

  Aunt Faith and his mother were sitting together on the couch. Tom stood frozen in the entranceway.

  “Thomas,” Aunt Faith said. “Look how handsome you are!”

  “Come kiss your aunt,” his mother said.

  “Aunt Faith,” Tom said.

  She held her arms out and he went to hug her. She was thinner than he remembered. Her hair was gray and her face had deep lines he hadn’t seen before. Her head shook slightly, wobbled on her neck like it was loose.

  “You look like your grandfather,” Aunt Faith said.

  “Jeremy flew her in,” his mother said. “We’re going out for dinner. All of us.”

  The look she gave him was hopeful.

  “I’ve got homework,” he said faintly.

  “Oh, pooh,” his mother said, waving her hand. “This is family!”

  “You work too hard,” Aunt Faith said.

  Jeremy wasn’t at the restaurant when they got there. Aunt Faith and his mom walked in, arms linked. Jeremy wasn’t mentioned. Tom knew it was just a matter of time.

  Before dessert arrived Aunt Faith went to the bathroom. His mom held his hand and said, “Faith says it really was an inheritance.”

  Tom stared at their hands. “Is he moving back?”

  “No,” she said. “No, Tommy. Faith says he’s just with a bad crowd right now. I saw him today. He said he was sorry. That’s a good sign, don’t you think?”

  He couldn’t meet her eyes. She let go of his hand. “Faith says Jeremy hasn’t spoken to his father in two years. They used to be so close. Your cousin’s just lost and hurt right now.”

  “So why doesn’t he call him up or something?”

  “Tommy—”

  “No, no, I’m serious. Why does he have to hang around here?”

  His mother looked hurt. “He’s family.”

  “He’s got four brothers! Why can’t he stay with one of them?”

  “They were always very
competitive. If you had a brother you’d know what it’s like.”

  “What’s to know? It’s not like he just forgot to send you a birthday card. He’s a drug dealer, Mom.”

  From her disappointed expression, he knew he’d pushed it too far. She was probably still thinking about a happy Hallmark Christmas back east. And now she was the heroine who’d brought Jeremy into the fold again. “I don’t think he’s a bad person,” Tom said. I think he’s a fucking lunatic, he thought.

  She smiled a lopsided smile. “He is a bit of a handful, isn’t he?”

  “Is Aunt Faith staying with us?” Tom said.

  His mother hesitated. “Yes.”

  “That’s great.” Jeremy wouldn’t do anything with his own mother in their apartment. “She can have my room. I’ll take the couch. How long is she staying?”

  “A week,” his mother said happily.

  “Tell her to stay as long as she wants.”

  His mom looked surprised. “Things are turning our way,” she said. It was more like a question.

  “Yes,” Tom assured her. “They are.”

  When he came back from school the next day the entertainment center was once again set up in the living room.

  Tom couldn’t sleep that night and he couldn’t concentrate enough to do homework. He couldn’t stay in the apartment either. He considered taking his bike but thought that it might make too much noise and wake Aunt Faith.

  He slipped out the front door and took the stairs. The halls had been repainted the halls and for a few days they’d be clean. Then Wayne or Willy would start again.

  The clouds hung low. The weatherman had been promising rain for the last week but there had been only drizzle. When he was near the park, a woman yelled, “Hey, Tom!”

  He didn’t recognize her at first because she was blond now and wearing a tight black micro mini and a bikini top instead of her usual schoolgirl-gone-bad outfit. She waved him over to her corner. He crossed the street to say hi, happy to see her. She peeked behind him.

  “Did you know you’re being followed?” she said.

  He whirled around. Jeremy’s car was at the curb. Jeremy honked.

  “Goddamn it,” Tom said. He marched up to Jeremy’s car and hit the hood. Jeremy backed up. Tom stooped for a rock and threw it at the windshield. “Fuck off! Just fuck off!”