A Tapless Shoulder

by Mark McCann

  I texted him back, Ok thanks.

  Chapter 24 … Fresh Air

  I was lying on the couch while the boys played with empty cardboard boxes. My eyes were closed, my mouth was open, my mind was somewhere in between. “Do you guys want me to put a movie on for you while daddy lays here and rests?” They were silent or I was deaf. A box fell from the table, and then hands and knees pummelled on my back. Just as I thought, what is taking Knuckle Butt so long, his hands and his knees came clambering onto my head and he had brought a toy.

  I sat up, carefully unraveling them so as to not send anyone falling to the floor. I smiled and touched each of them on the cheek. They were getting so big so fast, I thought. I wanted to hold onto them so we’d stay there the way we were: safe, happy… and tired, but safe and happy nonetheless. I smiled; Ding Ding looked at me and smiled back. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and then kissed Knuckle Butt’s forehead as he was moving too fast for anything more.

  I got up and collected their cups, one beneath the coffee table and one at the bottom of the stairs, both empty. I brought them into the kitchen, took their lids off and rinsed them out. I left them on the counter. I went back to the couch and sat down. I felt like I had cords running through me that were being pulled downwards. I didn’t like it.

  “Should we go outside,” I ventured, hoping fresh air might pull me the other way some, even if only for a moment. Live in the now, and that entire moment will mean everything for that entire moment – or so I hoped.

  I put jackets and shoes on the boys and then myself and we all went out the front door. I opened the garage to allow them access to their bikes and toys. Ding Ding ran to the sidewalk with the bicycle tire pump in his hands. He aimed it down the road and pretended to shoot something, then took aim at a passing car. Knuckle Butt, meanwhile, was upset because he had tried unsuccessfully to drag his peddle-car away from the entanglement with a bicycle trailer, bike and the wagon. I lifted it straight up and out and over his head, as he always had to watch these tasks closely. I set it down and pushed it to the end of driveway while he followed.

  Ding Ding was slowly returning from down the sidewalk on his tricycle. I was alarmed by my not noticing that he had even gotten his tricycle from the garage but everyone was good, so I simply let it pass and promised to notice the rest of their movements. The fresh start in the fresh air begins now, I told myself… every few minutes.

  Knuckle Butt nearly pushed his car into me, quickly circled back and went up the driveway onto the front lawn and straight into the tree. He fell to his knees and laughed. I turned from him to see Ding Ding was still on the sidewalk, almost at our driveway. He was ever so slowly walking his tricycle, but was now leaning over and looked very close to completely falling.

  “Ding Ding, are you trying to fall on your face?” I asked and walked closer. “What are you doing?” He kept moving, slowly, and then I saw it: a small ant making its way along the sidewalk in a line that was anything but straight. “Uh, are you making sure you don’t run over that ant?” I asked with a smile. Without looking up he nodded. When the ant was safely behind his back tire, he started pedaling again.

  “You’re really cute,” I called after him.

  They abandoned their bikes to run around on the lawn. There they were colliding like they’d both been allotted the same square foot of space to play in, a space they could only enter at top speed. It was very frustrating to watch; it wasn’t like they were careening down a narrow hallway. They were on open ground, and still they kept running into one another.

  “Watch out for each other, guys,” I pleaded, “maybe spread out a little, away from each other, not towards.”

  When they weren’t running into one another it seemed they would just fall on their own. It was like gravity never stopped inviting them to a party on the ground and its persistence was paying off because every now and then they just dropped.

  I was glad to be there with them, watching them run around enjoying their happy little selves. I exhaled slowly and stretched toward the sky with my eyes shut like they might see something they didn’t need to.

  Chapter 25 … ;)

  Katie was washing something in the sink while I leaned against the oven.

  “Do you remember,” I started innocently, “the party we had for, like, the first year we were together?” I paused and watched her look my way expectantly. “You might have thought, we were just drunk all the time, but I actually thought we were celebrating.” She laughed and I joined her, but stopped quickly and tried to regain a tone of seriousness. “That is actually the only reason I still go drinking with the guys now,” I said, “yeah, it’s for conditioning. It’s true; I’m keeping myself prepped for when we renew our vows.”

  Katie again laughed, “Oh, yeah, is that it?” She sounded dangerously close to not believing me.

  I looked at her as though surprised. If sounding honest didn’t bring about her blind faith, I didn’t know what would. “Yeah,” I continued in a deeper voice like I was a huge, beastly guy, completely capable of overlooking sarcasm, “I’m pretty sure I’ve even improved. I’ve totally cut like eleven percent off of my beer chugging time.” I thought if we’d been outside I might have punctuated this statement with a good spit or punt of a squirrel… had one been erratic enough to cross over the toe of my shoe at that moment. While, yes, I was fairly confident Katie was like most: not a fan of non-flying animals being launched into the air, but one had to stay in character for the sake of their art, and apparently mine was idiocy. We had fun together, Katie and I, and I liked that she liked… my art.

  “I have; totally true,” I insisted, and then marched to the fridge to drink a beer as fast as I could. After only a few swallows I found myself slowly thinking, I am getting old. I tried, and tried some more, before I finally sat at the table, swallowing and holding the bottle up to see how much I had left. Katie stood before the table now laughing heartily at me as I struggled with the stupid endeavour I had claimed was easy. I probably hadn’t really downed an entire beer all at once since before we had even met.

  “I’m not the man I once was,” I exhaled, diluting the air of defeat that surrounded me with my beer breath before taking another big gulp. “I’m frigging drowning here, and I think my mouth has gotten smaller,” I said, feigning a bit of worry, as beer spilled down my chin.

  She looked at me, “Um, I’m pretty sure it just keeps getting bigger.”

  “THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID,” I yelled as though I’d emailed her and forgotten to turn the caps lock off. The opportunity had been far too perfect: the smile, the conversation, the invitation to come in; Why, yes, thank you opportunity, I would love to.

  “Be quiet,” she whispered sharply to remind me the boys were sleeping.

  “Sorry,” I whispered back, “I get a little rowdy when I drink.”

  Chapter 26 … Left Foot Brown

  “Knuckle Butt… Aw… Man… Holy heck… and hell.”

  I forced myself to simply stop moving and talking, like I was about to walk into an argument I could not win because the situation was what it was, and there was no changing that. I took a deep breath; my face twisted. I looked at Knuckle Butt. I sighed. “Two questions: where is your diaper? And why aren’t you wearing it?”

  I picked him up carefully and carried him to the bathtub to rinse him off. After which I dried him and set him down. “Come here, please,” I said as I went into his bedroom. I suited him with a diaper, pants and a shirt, “That oughta slow you down some.” I said and then went back to the “scene”. There was his diaper beside the bookshelf, messy side up. If one was dealing with an open diaper on the floor; that was just how you wanted it. It was, however, made horrible by his having stepped in it. Maybe he wanted to wear it as a shoe, maybe he forgot it was there. That invariably worked against the cleanliness the carpet had going for it, that and that he sat down, apparently a lot, and in several different places. All of this happened in such a short amount of time; that was the metaphori
cal knee in the groin.

  I sent Katie a text: FUCKING FUCK. We now have a bunch of shit stains on the carpet because crapbag removed his bag from his crap and threw a crazy party inside a party just outside of another party.

  Ding Ding came up beside me and said, “I am not a little giraffe.”

  “Oh… that’s good,” I said and stared at him, my mind distant from both of us, “though… I’ve always kind of wanted a giraffe.” He laughed, said I was crazy and ran off, then came right back.

  “What is that? Is that yucky gross, blah?” he asked and hunched over, imitating what I would do often while changing a diaper.

  “Sadly, yes, yes it is,” I confirmed. “It’s a whole lot of yucky gross, blahhh.” I nodded while surveying the room, wondering why Knuckle Butt couldn’t have obsessed over one thing for one moment, and not have wandered the town. “What happened?” I looked at Ding Ding, who was studying the mess as well.

  “I don’t know,” he said, “maybe something,” and held out his hand to literally show he really didn’t know or have the answer. I nodded.

  “Yeah, it might just have been maybe something. Why is it all over – did you chase him?” I pulled him toward me and hugged him with one arm, “Okay, be careful please, Ding Ding, do not step in any of the poo or… you know what? How about you go downstairs to play for a little bit? I’m going to clean this up right now. Okay? Thank you.”

  I set to work doing just that. I got all the cleaners out of the hallway closet that didn’t say do not use on carpet. I found a sponge, and declared a dark blue towel without any examination to be old and rag-like, and, therefore, of very limited use, and decided it would be perfect for the task at hand.

  I had just finished with the stains, thrown the towel into a bag and put the bag in the garbage in the garage, when Katie and her mother came in. Oh, shopping, yes, good, good, smell? Probably that vicinity over there, and the rest of the carpet opposite that, plus that area right up there, yes, that does kind of include the entire house doesn’t it, yes, you’re quite right. Oh my GOD, I know, poop and cleaner does hang a little heavy in the air, doesn’t it? Yucky gross, blah, I know, that’s exactly right, thank you boys for helping your grandmother to better understand what has transpired here as of late.

  Katie’s mother made her way to the couch, careful not to step on any of the dark, wet areas that were still damp from the cleaners and water and being stained with crap. I stood and looked at the doorway that went downstairs and thought that may have been the better route. It was too late; she had already parked her… self on the couch.

  We sat while the boys ran and jumped about everywhere. They showed us their ‘I know you’re watching me’ routine for a while, and then began to slow down. Katie and her mother were talking about someone that had lived near them but moved away or something. I nodded. I was polite. I was annoyed. I was angry. I went into the kitchen to put coffee on. Katie came in to get the boys something to drink.

  She looked at me, silent for a moment, and finally asked, “Okay, what’s up?”

  “If your mom glances at the carpet once more in disgust, I think I might just punch her in the face. I know she’s your mom, I love her, and I will tell her that, I will say ‘I love you’ to her as I punch her in the face. And yes, we both know, I would never punch her in the face, so if we’re down there and I suddenly punch my face; you’ll know what I mean,” I almost stopped, “Okay, holy F, I get it, I’m right there, I can see it, I lessened it, diminished it from piles and smears into what you see now and, yeah, it’s ugly. They’re shit stains, ugly is what they are. What should we do? Carve them out? Cover them up? Use our bodies to hide them? We’ll get the family to sprawl out; pretend we’re playing Twister. ‘Hi Gramma, just laying around, awkwardly, it’s a new game, who can look the most broken while smelling like soap and poo, not as easy as it sounds.’ Maybe we could just shit on the rest of it? I mean, it’s a shit stain, I’d like to know if anyone living or dead has ever went, ‘Hey, that shit stain doesn’t look so bad.’”

  “Okay, love, if you need to go have a nap, you really need to say so, and just go do that.”

  “I don’t mean to have a breakdown over this; I think I already did that. It’s just… everything. It’s like everything lately has been doing that thing where someone points at your shirt and says, ‘What is that,’ and then they flick you in the face. I hate that. I want to break those hands off and say to them casually, ‘I hope it was worth it,’ as I throw their hand in the air and try to kick it.” I shook my head. “But what’s there to break off here? Nothing, it’s our stuff that’s doing it and it’s all breaking right in the middle of flicking our faces.” I began to rub my temples. I got myself some Advil out of the cupboard. Katie came up behind me and rubbed my back. “Sorry, Kate, it just frigging builds up sometimes and I overreact or react eventually, which just means the reaction’s a lot bigger.” I smiled at her and swallowed the pills with some water. I offered her some, but she shook her head.

  “No, thank you.”

  “How about some different pills, you want some other pills?”

  “Mm, I think I’m good.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Chapter 27 … Work And The Five D’s

  “So today I was given a letter or some review thing about my attendance.”

  Katie looked at me as if to say, I thought your attendance was good, and then said, “I thought your attendance was good.”

  “Uh, yeah, me too, I was a little surprised, but then that wore off, and I was just baffled. And the statement that kicked this thing off said it was to discuss their concerns regarding absences of mine that were beyond my control.”

  Katie looked at me confused and shook her head twice, “That doesn’t make sense,” she said, adding, “Like at all.”

  I laughed, “Yeah, I know. Trust me I know. No, no, it’s all stupid, and when I say that I mean, STUPID; the abbreviation. Yeah, but at work we say it long form, and spell it out on top of that. Seriously, which coincidentally is the first word, um, so it’s like seriously, tremendously, unadulteratedly, is … is that a word? What am I at? Er, not, I mean, I don’t think that’s… I think they had it as a word, I’m sure that’s probably where I got that from, but then everyone realized it wasn’t a word so they changed it, yeah, to uninterruptedly. So, okay, it goes: seriously, tremendously, uninterruptedly, pathetically, idiotically, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb. I forgot to mention that it’s ‘stupid’ with five d’s. Yeah, we sometimes say dumb five times or we say stupidedededed or whatever it is to cover the ‘dumbs.’ I’m sure you get the point.” I laughed lightly and nodded. “Yeah, then there were a few paragraphs chastising me for missing time; the time that isn’t being held against me. The letter even went on to tell me that I need to be there because when I’m not, someone else has to do my work. That part really surprised me; all this time I thought they leaned a bag of chips against my job when I wasn’t there, maybe two, depending on, you know, on the demands of the job at the time. The letter also designates itself as not being a form of discipline, so that’s good, right? I mean, I didn’t do anything wrong, so why punish me, right? They’ve way too much respect for their employees to do something like that, I would imagine. That would be STUPID. Oh shit – wait a second… So, yeah, and this is level one of this pleasant we’re-fucking-watching-you-motherfucker program. I’m excited for level two, that’s all I know. I just, I don’t know, I guess I love contradictions, especially when they are coupled with blatant, in your face, lies; you know, all that shit gets me revved up in a wonderful way. It’s like being patted on the back with a stabbing motion followed by a strange painful sensation in the same spot. So weird and, really, things like this are to be marvelled at. It’s like a motto for the ages that says, ‘We’re smart, but not that smart.’ It’s just exciting to be a part of their version, I mean, vision, the vision. You’d think we had long since discovered how and to what people reacted best to, and yet, dot dot dot, literally
. Oh well, whatever. I don’t know; I actually thought at the end of this retarded spiel my boss was going to stand up and flip me off as a big finale. Oh, and something else: BING! Then maybe shoot me in the face with fireworks because, hey, not my fault. Yeah, and maybe then the plant manager comes in and goes, ‘Hey fucker, is this your file? Let me poop in it for you.’ Yeah, but, you know… that didn’t happen. I can’t honestly really say I was all that disappointed. But, still, I felt lucky, lucky to be a part of the magic, and that’s what matters most. I’m just there trying to make the plant a better place, even it is just by one giant overflowing bag of garbage at a time.” I shook my head. Katie was giggling hard. She got a kick out of my rants. It was therapeutic for me, and entertainment for her. Even if it meant I was pained by an ulcer giving birth to a litter of starving baby ulcers. She especially liked when I worked in the word ‘poop.’ She hugged me, still laughing, and gave me a kiss.

  “I love you, I love you so much,” she said with a glowing smile, “don’t let them get to you. You’re going to be a famous writer and you are going to do what you love: write, and when you do you can tell them whatever you like.”

  “Yeah, famous to your butt,” I said practically spitting out the words. Katie looked at me like I’d startled her.

  “Um, did you just say, famous to my butt?”

  “Yes, sorry. I think I might have failed to say the first half of that, which can kind of really wreck the joke.” I made a face I hoped said, ‘Oops, didn’t mean to.’

  “You are a whack-a-doo,” she said, maybe even insultingly.

  “Is that an insult or…?” I asked, “And, while that may very well be true, I have never used the word ‘whack-a-doo,’ I would think that’s got to earn me some credit towards the cost of admission to your butt.”