by Gary Martin
“I wouldn’t walk out for that, John. Don’t worry, so far I’m enjoying myself. I’m especially enjoying making you feel more awkward than you already do.”
The waiter arrives with the food and places it in front of us. It smells divine. Ez looks at my naan bread.
“Do you want to go halves on the naan bread and the rice?” she asks.
“Of course, no problem,” I lie.
Once we’ve shared the bread and rice, I pick up my spoon and have a mouthful. For about three seconds, it seems quite pleasant, and I can actually taste some of the delicate flavours. For about three seconds. After that, it simply feels like someone is stabbing my tongue with tiny razor blades. I quickly grab my beer and finish it in one; it temporarily takes away the pain, but it quickly comes back. I ask the waiter for two more, and take a bite out of my half-naan which soothes my tongue slightly more. I’m already sweating. Ez looks at me and tries to stifle a laugh.
“Good, is it?” She can barely compose herself. I’ve got two options here: admit defeat, or eat it as fast as possible and hope that two litres of beer will kill it. Like an idiot, I choose the latter.
“Bloody lovely,” I say, and start shovelling it into my mouth. The beers arrive by the time I’ve finished it, and I drink half of one straight down. The heat of the curry has left me really light-headed. In a haze that almost feels drug induced, I hear Ez ask if I’m okay. I nod my head, and stand up quickly. Too quickly as it turns out. It feels like all the blood has drained from my head and I lose balance, falling onto the edge of the table, which flips over and throws everything that was on it across the room.
Everything goes silent. I look up at Ez from the floor, she’s looking around the room with her mouth agape. She finally looks down at me with a blank look on her face. I’m on my back, half covered in table cloth, beer, and some of her food. I give her a childish grin, and accept now would be a perfectly good time for her to walk out and never speak to me again. But instead, Ez starts laughing. Almost hysterically. When she’s almost stopped, she gives me her hand and tries to help me up. I grab it but she can’t keep hold because my palm is slightly sweaty, and I drop back down and she starts again, which sets me off. We’re still giggling as we’re escorted out of the premises and out into the night.
“Well then, Ezmerelda Kowalski, would you like me to walk you home?” I ask, and she smiles at me.
“Only if you don’t mind walking for about ten kilometres. I live with my parents a little way out of the city.”
“I’m not sure I’m quite willing to do that. I’ll call you a cab.”
“And like that, the evening’s over,” she says.
“You still want to spend time with me?” I ask, a little confused.
“I know a little spot down by the river, it’s not too far from here. Come with me.” Ez holds out her hand and I take it. She leads me through parts of the city I have never seen before: loud, vibrant and very rich. The city finally quietens down and we walk down some steep steps just before an old bridge, and down onto a tow path. We find a bench and sit down. The reflections of the city on the water are breath-taking.
“You want to know why I still want to spend time with you? It’s because I’ve never met anyone quite like you, John. I could even tell that last night. You clearly didn’t fit in, but you’re refreshing, a change in my world. Everyone I’ve dated in the past has had too much money. That comes with the territory, I’m afraid. My dad owns the New White Star, one of the larger of the space cruise line companies. These men claim they could give me anything I could possibly want, but they’re ultimately bland and vain and want me as a prize. You have treated me like a person, and I haven’t laughed that much in years. Now, you probably think that I’m a spoiled brat who’s just slumming it, but I assure you that apart from living with my parents, I earn my own money and take nothing from them.”
“I don’t think that.” I’m not sure what to think, but now seems to be a good time to move in for a kiss. I’m pretty bad at reading signs from women, and often in the past when I thought the time was right to move in, they’d just pull back and ask me what the hell I thought I was doing. Ez doesn’t pull back. After about a minute or two of passionate kissing, I pull back with the biggest grin on my face.
“Shall we go back to yours?” she asks. After what she’s just said, the last thing I want to do is take her back to my place.
“That sounds great, but … my flat is in a red slum area, and I’d be slightly embarrassed to take you there on a first date. And besides, it’s a terrible mess,” I say.
“That doesn’t bother me. After what I just said, why would you think it would?”
“I don’t think it would. It does bother me, though. I can’t let you see it just yet. I know that’s odd, and probably a bit suspicious now I think about it, but it’s not in a state to be seen by anyone who doesn’t already know what it’s like.”
“You mean like your friends at the ball?”
“I’ve known them for years. A lot of the mess is probably down to them.”
She stares into my eyes.
“You’re full of surprises, John. You’ve pretty much just turned down a night of wild passion.”
“I have, yes. It’s probably because I’m a fucking idiot, and seem to do everything I can to sabotage myself.”
“Maybe, but like it or not, you’ve just won me over.”
We slowly walk back to the bright, buzzing centre of the city hand in hand, and head towards a taxi rank. We pick the taxi at the front of the queue, and the door raises open.
“Call me tomorrow,” she says and gets in.
“Definitely,” I reply and smile.
The cab raises from the road and attaches itself to the mag-lane high above, and with a loud whoosh it’s gone. I’m now feeling at a bit of a loss. Did that go well? I’m not so sure now. It felt like it did, but I’ve been wrong before. Doubts start shooting through my mind, and I feel like I need to talk to someone about it. We have an open invitation from Jacob’s mother to come and talk anything over and have a drink with her, anytime any of us need to, so I decide to do that.
11
To my genuine surprise, Ez was still talking to me and within about two weeks we were an official item. The first few months together we pretty much did what all new couples do constantly. It was fantastic, and I’ve never been so happy. We didn’t rush into anything, we just had fun.
When we'd been together for a year or so, we decided to move in together. I'd insisted that we move into my flat, which I'd had now for around fifteen years at this point and I could never see myself moving out of. I honestly didn’t think she’d go for it because of the area it was in. It's also full of all my old junk, and I had sort of got everything where I wanted it. From my point of view at least, I thought sharing it was a massive step. The view outside of both the dining room and living room windows was of both levels of the M4, and there were talks of building a third level. If that happened, it would pretty much block out all the sunlight coming in. I didn't have a problem with this, as the curtains were mainly always closed anyway.
After a while of living together, we started having discussions/arguments about moving into a bigger place, and me getting a better job. Working forklifts on the loading docks at Sunspots Waste Disposal Inc. was pretty shitty, but it was pretty cool knowing everything I was loading into the square metal containers was headed for the Moon, and then on to be burned up in the Sun’s atmosphere. But apparently that lacked ambition. I was kind of comfortable with it, and enjoyed my life outside of work a lot. I didn't really want a career, and enjoyed spending a lot of my free time with Jacob and Terrell. Ez had worked really hard to get where she was, and had every right to try and push me into bettering myself. I just didn't really want to be pushed.
One day, during my lunch break, I get called into the manager’s office. I have a slight hangover and I'm annoyed that this has happened during my free time. I'm quite happy to tell Simon this,
even though I've probably been called in for some sort of reprimand. All Simon seems to care about is letting you know he’s more important than you, and that he has the power to sack you. He’s a slimy fucker and he looks like a stick insect. I knock on the door, hear the latch beep, and walk in. I'm ready to say my piece when I notice a large bald man in a cream-coloured suit sitting to Simon’s left. I vaguely recognise him, but can't quite place him. He stands up and offers his hand. I automatically take it, and shake it with a firm grip, like I'd been taught to do from a young age. “No one likes a limp handshake,” my dad would always tell me. I didn't like handshakes at all, firm or limp. His hand is sweaty and all I want to do is wipe it on my trousers, but I manage to stop myself.
“I'm Martin Hooper; you must be John Farrow?”
The owner of the company. Fuck. I must have screwed up pretty badly this time for him to be here.
“I’m … pleased to meet you,” I say very quietly.
“Good, good,” he booms. “Now let's get straight down to business. Sunspot 2 is down a shift manager since Perry went missing a week ago. She's due to go out in four days, and I want you to take over.”
I stare at him with my mouth slightly agape, I really don't know what to say. I don't know much about the business except for my job. I know that we have two ships and what they're called, and know that they dump rubbish on the Sun, but that is pretty much all.
“It's double the money you're on now, and you'll basically be the Captain of a spaceship.”
“I'll have to speak to my girlfriend,” I manage.
“There's nothing to talk about, man. Just say yes! I'll sort all the paperwork out, and arrange you passage on a shuttle to the Moon depot tomorrow. From there you can start some basic training.”
“Why me? I'm sure there are loads of more qualified …”
He looks at Simon with a big grin on his face and bangs him on the shoulder a few times.
“Simon's told me nothing but good things about you, boy, good things. I'm taking it as a yes, and will send the transport info to your house later today.”
“Okay … thank you?”
With that he stands up again, walks past me, bangs me on the shoulder and leaves the office. Simon smiles at me, in a way that looks more sinister than happy.
“What's going on, how did this happen? I wasn't looking for this, any of this,” I say, protesting, but knowing I'm going to end up doing it.
“Simply put, he can't find anyone else. He's tried, but no one wants the job.”
“I don't want it either. Well, I don't not want it, but it's not something I've ever really thought about doing. Being a spaceship Captain does have a certain appeal though.”
“You won't be the Captain. You'll be a shift manager. Simple as that. No one will ever call you Captain. Look at it this way, the boss thinks you've said yes. If you let him down, you won't have a job.” He pauses. “Look, from your position, you're getting a promotion because of a problem. From my position, I'm getting rid of a problem by a promotion.” He leans back on his chair, puts his hands behind his head and looks really pleased with himself for what he's just said. I bet the fucker's been working on it all day. I do feel a bit gutted though. But still, it's a promotion. Whether or not I've earned it, or been forced into it, I'd imagine Ez will be pleased. Probably.
“So, you didn't heap praise on me to Mr. Hooper then?”
“Oh I did. Lots and lots.” He smiles an evil little smile. What a cock.
“I think you should go home and tell your girlfriend the good news, and start packing.”
I stand up and head to the door. He stops me.
“Oh and John, here's the best bit: you're going be out there for three months.”
My face drops.
Three fucking months. How am I going to explain that to Ez? And on such short notice?
I clear out my locker of everything that's of value to me and I walk out onto the yard. I watch everyone I work with doing their jobs for a few minutes from a distance, and I decide to disappear without saying anything. Mainly because I don't have any idea what to say to them. I quickly get into Bruce, my electro scoot, and head back home. Even in the awkward situation I've been put in, and the potential falling-out I'm going to have with Ez, when I get in and close the door, just for a moment, I can forget everything. I love Bruce. I've never been so happy with a purchase. He's a one-person car, and looks something like a large bobsleigh, but with a roof. The best thing about this particular model is that if you want to go somewhere with someone else (assuming they have one as well) you can sit two of them side by side, hit the connect button on the key fob, and the two electro scoots do their thing and join together, syncing all systems. And you have yourself a two seater. You can do this with up to four of them, but I couldn't convince either Jacob or Terrell to get one. It's embarrassing enough that I own one, apparently. Luckily, Ez does quite like them, and has called hers Brucette.
I head to my local pub, The Fire and Water, to have a sit down and a long think, aided by as much alcohol I think is necessary to sort this situation out. Ez meets me there when she's finished work, which is around three hours after I got there. By this point it's fair to say I've had a few. She sits down next to me and kisses me on the cheek.
“Hello, you here by yourself?” she says and looks around, I guess she’s expecting to see Terrell or Jacob around somewhere.
“Afraid so.” I look at her and smile. “They've given me, no, they've forced a promotion on me at work. I'm not sure I'm happy about it,” I slightly slur.
She looks at me quizzically.
“Not sure you're happy about it? Why not?”
“Look, I know you want me to progress, and get a better job, and earn more money and all that, but it's not what I want to do. I like my job as it is.”
“No you don't.”
“No, I don't. But they've forced me into it,” I say the last bit slightly higher pitched than the rest, and I realise that everything I've just said is complete nonsense.
“I assume by that you've accepted it then, this promotion that was forced on you.”
“Yes, they said if I didn't take it I wouldn't have a job. So I had to. And now I'm on double the money, and…”
“Double the money? That's fantastic,” she says and gives me a hug, and kisses me on the lips.
“Drinks are on you then,” she smiles, then pulls back a bit when she notices I'm not entirely smiling back at her.
“Oh, I thought you were playing with me. You're really not happy about this? What is it they're forcing you into doing then? I assume some sort of management position at the yard?” she asks.
“Yes and no. Management, yes. At the yard, hell no.”
“Tell me then, don't just string me along,” she says, sounding annoyed.
“They've made me shift manager on one of their two waste disposal ships, Sunspot 2. And they want me to go out tomorrow for some basic training.”
“What's wrong with that? It sounds pretty good. My boyfriend the Space Captain. How long will the training last?”
This is the part I was dreading, the part I needed three litres of beer for, and still I feel unprepared.
“The training will only be for a few days, but when it's over I'll already be on the Moon depot and we'll be setting out straight away.”
“So how long will you be out there for?”
I wait.
“How long?” she says impatiently.
“Three months.”
She stares at me, and then looks at the table. She doesn't move for a while, so I put my hand on her shoulder. She shrugs it off, and then just stands up, and walks out.
I don't see or hear from her again until I get back from my first three-month stint. I tried and tried to call her from Sunspot 2 until the signal craps out near Venus, and then again when we get back in range on our way home, but she doesn't answer.
After an uneventful first three months, I finally get back to my flat. I unlock my fr
ont door and walk in. I'm surprised to see my flat in such tidy state. I hadn't emptied the bins before I left, so I was at least expecting the rancid smell of that to hit me when I opened the door. But no, it smells fresh, like it's only just been cleaned.
I drop my bags in the hall and walk past the kitchen into the living room. Ez is sitting on the sofa watching the holobox. She looks at me and stands up. She takes me in her arms and squeezes me tight.
“I'm so sorry for walking out like that,” she says, and with that presses her head into my chest and cries. I hold her, and play with her hair.
“It's okay, it's okay, we'll figure this out.”
And to a degree, we did. Everything seemed new again. After a lot of discussion, I reluctantly agreed to sell my flat and we bought a house, a modest three-bedroom in a relatively nice area. Somewhere Ez could at least bring her parents. As a bonus, there was no three-level motorway in sight, from any window.
Then came the first of many talks about children. In our early days, we were both resolute in not wanting them. She was building a career, and I simply didn't want any. Something had changed, and I couldn't put my finger on what. All I knew was now, for some reason, she wanted them, and I still didn't. That was that as far as I was concerned. Apparently, that wasn't that, and the debates got more heated.
Every time I was leaving for Sunspot 2, we seemed to have an argument about it, and I was left to stew for three months. I guess we both stewed. It was always when Sunspot 2 was closing in on the point of communication blackout that we seemed ready to talk about things again like adults, but then Venus happens and that's it for pretty much a month. When I got back, things always cleared up and we seemed happy again, but the arguments always started again around about two weeks leading up to me leaving.
