Big And Small of It

Big and Small Of It

And then Bill came in the room again. He was fusing about, moving bills and random papers, looking over Tara’s shoulder as she sat reading a magazine and having a glass of wine. He went over to the counter where the dishes were still sitting, waiting for him, and poured himself a tall one out of the jug. Tara turned a page in her magazine. She laughed at some anecdote; some article about some actor on some television show, and that was when Bill decided he’d had enough.

“Hey,” Tara said, as he pulled the magazine away from her.

“Oh, were you reading this?”

“You know damn well that I was.”

Bill put the magazine on the counter, got it wet in a puddle of spilled red wine. “Well I wanna talk.”

“You did all of the talking that you’re going to do right now,” Tara said. She pulled out a cigarette from the pack she had resting on the table. “I don’t need anymore of your shit.”

“Okay, but how much did those cost?” Bill asked, pointing at her pack.

“You know how much they cost.”

“Yes, but I want you to tell me.”

“$9.50,” Tara said. Then she lit up.

Bill nodded. “And the generics?”

“$8.75. Honestly there’s no real difference.”

“There’s a seventy-five cent difference.”

Tara took hard drag on her smoke. “And that would’ve given us what?”

“An extra seventy-five cents,” Bill said.

“Don’t be smart.”

He stood there and looked at her a moment then went over to the counter where the dishes were. “It counts.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.” Bill picked up a pot where the residue of boxed macaroni and cheese had coagulated to the sides. “Maybe it would’ve gotten us a second box of this.”

“Are you still hungry?” Tara asked. She said it in a way that Bill knew she didn’t care if he was hungry or not.

“No,” he lied. “You?”

“No. But you’re hungry a lot lately, so I thought I’d ask.”

“True. But of course you’re not hungry. You have your $10 pack of ciggies to quell your hunger.”

“Have one.” Tara pushed her pack toward the end of the table.

Suddenly Bill got red in the face. He put the pot down, drank the rest of his wine, and stormed over to where Tara was. When he got close she tightened and curled into herself, as if waiting for a blow. But all Bill did was roll up his sleeve and shove his shoulder into her face. “What’s this look like?””

“The patch,” Tara answered, turning her head away.

“That’s right,” Bill said. “And what can’t I do while I’m on the patch?”

“Smoke.”

“Again, you’re correct. So why would you offer me something as dumb as a cigarette?”

“I don’t know.” Tara wormed her way from the table and got up. She went over to the counter and poured herself another glass of wine. She refilled Bill’s out of instinct. “I forgot.”

“Ah, the joy of a woman’s memory.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” she said. Tara came back over to the table with both glasses of wine. “Have some of this.”

“Is there poison in that as well?” Bill asked.

“Yes, but it usually takes years for it to work. So I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.”

Bill laughed. He took his glass of wine and had a good pull on it. It went down fine at first. But then, as soon as the sweet booze reached his belly, it began to burn. Bill turned red-faced instantly. He set the wine glass down on the table, spilling some, and then clutched his stomach. “Jesus Christ, what is that?”

Tara smirked. “What do you mean? It’s wine. Carlo Rossi. The same shit we buy every three days.”

“Something’s not right,” Bill said. He held onto his stomach with one hand, and leaned on a chair with the other. “I don’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?” Tara started. But then right before her eyes Bill began shrinking. “Oh God!”

“What?”

“It’s...it’s....”

“Tell me!” Bill shouted. His face was red and covered in sweat. He let go of his stomach and the chair, and tried to stand upright. That’s when Tara noticed the sleeves on his shirt go over his hands. She screamed. “Oh Christ, what?”

“You’re shrinking!”

“Come off it,” Bill said. But then he felt another guttural burn in his belly, and felt his pants drop an inch lower. Out of fear he grabbed his belt.

“Bill!” Tara screamed. She backed away from him and headed toward the counter. She dumped the rest of her wine down the sink then took another long drag on her smoke. Tara looked at Bill. It seemed he’d shrunk another few inches. His pants had completely gone over his shoes now, and Bill’s shirt hung so long on him it slumped over his shoulders. He looked like a child playing dress-up with his father’s clothes.

“Help me!”

“I don’t know what to do?” Tara stubbed her smoke out and straightened herself. She made to go over to Bill, but then she felt a strong burn in her stomach. It doubled her over and she fell to the ground. When Tara looked up, she saw that her husband’s eyes were filled with terror. “What is it?”
“You.... you’re growing!”

Tara moaned. She felt an intense pain in her joints, bones, and muscles. It felt as if someone were pulling her about a thousand different ways. She fell on her back and raised her neck. The jeans she was wearing were almost up to her knees. Bill’s old crew neck shirt, one he’d warned her not to wear; the sleeves were up to the elbows. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Bill said, right before his pants and underwear fell completely off of him. Tara looked at him. He was maybe three feet now. Then he was two. And then...

“Bill!” She screamed. Tara tried to get up on her knees but she’d gotten so big that her ass hit the counter, and knocked over the wine bottle, magazine, and pot of macaroni and cheese residue. They all fell on her back. The wine bottle rolled off and smashed on the floor. Glass and blood-red liquid went everywhere. Wine ran down the kitchen toward where Bill was standing. He was maybe six inches tall now, Tara thought, listening as her jeans and shirt ripped. He was completely naked, standing maybe an inch away from his clothing. She reached for him, but she smacked the side of the table hard. She’d grown so much that it turned over on its side. “Bill!”

He had a look of horror on his face, as a stream of red wine raced toward him. Bill moaned. He felt the burn again, and then a horrible new pain all throughout his body. Three more inches were gone. Quickly, he ran toward his mound of clothes. He began climbing the fabric of his brown pants, getting to safety just as the wash of red river encircled him. “Tara!”

“I can’t,” was all that she could say before the pains came again. Tara screamed. The remnants of her shirt and jeans fell off of her, as did her shredded bra and underwear. When the pains stopped, Tara turned and sat, her head tilted against the cold, rough ceiling, one arm, which broke the screen, hung out the kitchen window, and the other pressed against the mixture of wall and cracked table. She was stuck.

“Tara, are you okay!” Bill shouted. But his wife couldn’t hear him. She just sat there, naked and frightened, staring down at him on his island of clothing, at the patch as it went floating by.

It was then that Bill heard a noise coming from the living room. It was a thump and then the patter of feet. From his height, the sound was deafening. The vibrations made him nauseous. Oh, no, Bill thought, bracing himself down in his mound of clothes, the goddamned cat. Sure enough Reggie came around the corner and surveyed the scene without any kind of fear. Fat, round, blue-eyed, Siamese mutt, shaped-like-a-football Reggie, who could never get enough in his damned belly, who always cried during every meal; the ten-year-old nuisance of a cat that Bill couldn’t wait to see die. They were face to face. Reggie was staring Bill right in the eye, and the cold, determined glare of the cat was beyond frightening, aside from being beyond all logic and comprehension. Bill felt his heart race. How long had it been since he tossed the cat across the living room? Five minutes? Ten? Surely, cats couldn’t remember that long.
“Reggie!” Tara screamed, looking down at the cat and her husband. “Reggie! Get!”

But the cat didn’t register her voice. He took his time and walked around the scene. He sniffed at Bill’s clothes, and then came around toward where the spilt wine rested. Reggie sniffed and then turned away. He walked over to where Tara was, found the pot of macaroni and cheese and began licking.

“Thank God,” Bill said from his mound. He looked up at the mountain of flesh that was his wife. “Tara!” But he was sure that he heard nothing.

“Bill!” Tara screamed, as loud as she could. She tilted her head slightly. She looked down at her husband and he was clutching his ears. Shit, she thought. It must be the sound of my voice. Oh God, what’s happened? But then. “Reggie!”

Only it was too late. Reggie had come across the kitchen and pounced on the mound of Bill’s clothes. Tara watched in horror as her husband backed away. But it was only a matter of time. Reggie was patient. He’s been a farm cat, and Bill and Tara had gotten him when he was already a year old and living and learning with his mother and the rest of the liter. Bill made one last attempt. He punched at the cat, full on, right in the middle of Reggie’s nose. The old Siamese mix didn’t even flinch. Then Tara shut her eyes. Tears welled in them. When she opened them, Reggie was laying the middle of Bill’s pile of clothes. He was licking his paws.

“Oh God!” Tara said, looking down at the half-soaked mound that used to be her husband. Reggie looked up at her and meowed. Tara watched a tear fall and splatter on the kitchen floor, and felt a burning in her stomach again. It came long and felt like she’d eaten fire. She tried to clutch her stomach but couldn’t. Then her head wedged away from the ceiling, and she could begin to feel herself shrink.

Modern Romancer

Modern Romancer

“Come here,” he says.

“I told you I don’t think I can,” she answers.

“Just this one time.” He pats the cushion, beckons her with a smile. “I’m feeling a little lonely and vulnerable.”

“I’m not programmed for this.”

“Right. But you sure were programmed to do what we just did.”

“Yes.”

“But you can’t come sit next to me?”

“No,” she says.

He smiles. “You seem uncertain. It seems like you want to.”

She looks at him. Her eyes are beautiful but he notices a coldness behind them. “That is simply what you perceive.”

“Perceive? Why so formal?”

“Programming.”

“Programming,” he mumbles. Then he gets up. “Look, you want a beer or something?”

“Why?” she asks.

He lifts his arms. “I don’t know. It was just an idea.” Then he goes into the kitchen to get a beer. When he comes back in, she is standing. “Where you going?”

“It is time to start your dinner and do your laundry,” she says.

He sighs. “Right. Dinner. Laundry. How ‘bout we order out tonight. Pizza?”

“It is your decision.”

“Of course, you won’t eat no matter what I bring in here,” he says.

“That is correct.”

“Well, can’t you at least let the laundry go. I mean how many tighty whiteys do I need? You do the laundry so much I don’t think I’ve even touched most of my wardrobe.”

She looks at him. “Would you like that I clean the bathroom?”

He sits down, cracks his beer, and takes a pull. “No, I would not like that you clean the bathroom.”

“You are mocking me?” she asks.

He laughs. “A little.” Then he turns on the television. He looks up at her. “Are you going to sit or what?” She sits down in the chair where she was. “That’s not what I had in mind.”

“As I said before I’m not pro...”

“Programmed,” he interrupts. “What exactly are you programmed to do?”

“To love you and serve you,” she says.

He raises an eyebrow, has some more beer. “Sweetheart, what we do isn’t love.”

“It is a form of love.”

“Sometimes,” he says. “More often than not it isn’t.”

“But it is what you requested. It is what you said you wanted. Is it not?”

“I...” But then he puts down his beer and studies her. She has the most beautiful face: porcelain skin and a chin that comes down to a point, all surrounded by waves of auburn hair. She has a slightly upturned nose. It gives her a little bit of an air about her, a subtle aloofness. He likes it. He eyes are such an icy blue they make him cold. “I guess it is.”

“Then am I not serving you as you requested?” she asks.

“I guess you are,” he says.

“You sound troubled.”

“Look,” he grabs his beer again and leans forward on the couch, “I’m just trying to say that this isn’t exactly what I bargained for. Do you understand?”

“No.”

He has more beer. “Okay, let me break it down for you this way. In a relationship there are certain obligations, sexual or otherwise. We got the sex thing down, baby. Don’t think I’m complaining here. You’re exactly what I asked for. It’s just...it’s...well, I didn’t think I’d miss the intimacy as much as I do, you know?” He looks at her. She is staring back at him blankly. “I guess you do know.”

“Intimacy is not a part of my protocol,” she says. She rises and hands him a piece of paper out of her back pocket. He takes it but does not read it. He already knows what it says. “I have been programmed to love you and serve you, as per the contract, as per what you specifically stated in the needs and desires section of the agreement. Has there been a problem with my service? Do I not do exactly as you stated, as you need and desire?”

He puts the paper down on the end table. “You do exactly as I ask in the contract.”

“Good.” She rises again. “Then if you desire food out and do not want your laundry done, then I will go and clean the bathroom now.”

“Fine,” he says.

He watches her leave the room, and then sits there absently watching a baseball game. He takes a few more pulls on his beer, before getting up. He goes into the kitchen and grabs another beer from the refrigerator. Above him, he can hear the sounds of water running, of the bathroom being cleaned explicitly as he stated it should. He opens the beer. He takes a few pulls before he feels sick to his stomach.

He puts the beer down on the kitchen table, and then leaves the kitchen. Quietly he goes up the steps. He leans in the bathroom doorway, and watches her scour the bathtub. Porcelain skin. Pointed chin. Upturned nose and waves of auburn hair. Icy blue eyes. She looks so much like Samantha it makes him ache. He thinks he’s had enough. And when she looks up at him and doesn’t smile, he knows he has.

“Stand up,” he says.

She puts the scrub brush down, and does as commanded. “Is it time again?”

“Yes. Turn around.”

She turns around and faces the bathroom mirror. She puts her hands on the sink. “Is this what you like?”

“Yes,” he says.

He gets behind her and leans in close. He sniffs. She smells of nothing but bathroom supplies and his scent. He leans closer, moving some auburn hair out of the way. He looks at her neck. It is thin, swanlike. He wants to kiss it but suddenly realizes that it doesn’t matter. So instead he raises his one hand and flips the small switch behind her left ear. He smells a whiff of ozone and immediately she goes limp. He catches her. He turns her over and looks into her eyes. They are dark and vacant. Then he cradles her in his arms for a few minutes, before gently setting her on the ground, and going back down to the kitchen to finish his beer.

The Lake

The Lake

Marvin began screwing the girl who worked at the convenience store, not long after he and Sharon moved in with her parents. Sharon found a job in the city within the first month. Marvin was on month number four without work. He spent most of his days waking around ten, eating a bagel, looking for jobs in a half-assed manner, and then masturbating to Internet porn on his in-law’s computer. It was an okay lifestyle, but ultimately unsatisfying. Marvin felt he was getting fat too. So in an effort to boost his spirits, he began going for walks promptly at noon every day. Marvin would clean up his mess, turn off the PC, and then he would put on a comfortable pair of shorts, sneakers, his old Ramones t-shirt, and go for a walk around his new neighborhood.

As a gift to himself for being so industrious, and for holding on okay with the stress of looking for work, Marvin treated himself to one twenty-four-ounce bottle of light beer a day. He had previously been a heavier drinker, but moving in with the in-laws had helped to change that. It was no fun hiding the scotch and wine bottles in their home. And it was no fun driving all over town, dumping the empties in various garbage cans, after driving Sharon to the train station each morning. So Marvin figured he’d go sober for a little bit. But after a few weeks he got restless. He got tired of the constant thought of drink, and the aching desire. He wanted a drink the way he wanted a good screw. But he needed an excuse to touch the hooch again. Exercise seemed good enough.

Sissy had a slight build. She wasn’t thin but she wasn’t fat. She had blonde hair and wide eyes, and looked the way most women did. Maybe she looked a bit more haggard because she spent her days behind the counter of a local convenience store. Sissy ran the register and poured coffee and made sandwiches for people coming in on their lunch break. She serviced any and all random town folk, and just about every construction outfit in a three-mile radius. Sometimes she was kind to people. Sometimes she grew short with them. And on her own lunch breaks, Sissy made a Muenster cheese sandwich and walked across the street to stare at the lake for the remaining twenty-eight minutes she had.

Marvin met her after his second walk. It was ninety-five degrees outside and he came into the convenience store sweating and panting. Sissy was making some asshole a ham and Swiss sandwich. While Marvin studied the coolers full of beer, he could hear the asshole berate her for how thick she was cutting the cheese and meat. He made her cut the portions three times, causing a line to form. People began to grow impatient. They looked at their watches and began whispering their discontent to each other. Sissy had to have her mom come out of the back to handle the influx of people. Marvin could tell she was embarrassed to do so.

“What do you want?” Sissy said to Marvin.

“Just this.”

“Just the beer? Do you have I.D.?”

“Sure,” he said. He handed his license to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, giving the license back. “I have to card everyone.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Anyway, you look like you need a water more than a beer.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, you’re all covered in sweat.”

“I think I’ll just take the beer.”

Then Sissy’s mom came over and rang up the beer. She gave Sissy a harsh look then made her fix a sandwich for the next customer in line. It was a roast beef sandwich with two slices of Cheddar cheese.

“Take it easy,” Marvin said, as he left.

“You too,” Sissy answered, looking up from her work.

The next day he was trudging up a hill. He was sweating and panting, and holding a damp brown paper bag. It was ninety-five degrees again, and he was beginning to rethink the whole exercise bit. What would be wrong with just having one large beer during the day, just for the sake of having one? They payoff was good, but it wasn’t worth the sweat and stress. Then he heard a horn blast. Marvin made to get out of the car’s way, but it stopped. It was Sissy. She rolled down her window.

“Hey, beer guy.”

“Hey.”

“What are you doing?”

“Finishing up my exercise.”

“It’s too hot to exercise in this.”

“I know.”

“Do you live close by?”

“Up the street.”

“Hop in and I’ll take you home.”

Marvin let Sissy inside his in-law’s house. He turned on the air conditioner and the television, and then went to the refrigerator to get them both some cold bottled water. Then he sat next to Sissy on the couch. She drank her water in three gulps, and he drank his in four. Then they watched a little bit of the television. It was a bad movie on HBO that Sharon had made Marvin see the previous summer.

“So what do you, like, do?” Sissy asked.

“I’m a college teacher. Community college. I teach English Literature and writing, mostly.

“Are you off for the summer?”

“No, I just can’t find a job.”

“What’s your wife do?”

Marvin looked at his wedding ring and then at Sissy. “She works in advertising.”

“Cool. But it must get lonely here all day by yourself.”

“A little. But I manage.”

Then Sissy impetuously leaned in and kissed Marvin. They both looked surprised. Her eyes bulged. His lips tightened before they slacked. He could taste the Muenster cheese sandwich she’d had earlier in the day, and he could taste her sweat. He grabbed the girl’s breast and she moaned a little bit. Marvin laid Sissy on her back. He took off her t-shirt and shorts. She was wearing a turquoise bra and panty set. He took those off quickly. Sissy was pale and soft, and her cunt was shaved. He kissed her again, and then moved down to put his tongue between her legs. She grabbed the top of his head. When he was done, Sissy kneeled in front of him. She put Marvin’s cock in her mouth. It felt nice. It was something old, rudimentary and banal, made new again. After that, they fucked bareback and doggie style on Marvin’s in-law’s couch. They faced the large paneled windows, moaning and sweating, watching neighbors come and go in between pulls and thrusts.

Marvin and Sissy did this a couple times a week. She switched some of her schedule at the convenience store with a guy named Joe, so that she could drive to his in-law’s house and fuck. When they didn’t fuck they watched movies, or drove around the town, laughing and talking. Sissy took Marvin to the lake she loved, and they ate Muenster cheese sandwiches while they rowed a boat that her mother owned. Marvin quit walking on a daily basis. He quit drinking just his twenty-four-ounce bottle of beer. He went back to drinking scotch and wine, and six-packs taken from the store by Sissy. Marvin liked Sissy a lot. And he preferred this situation much more to the previous one.

It was about three months into the relationship, when autumn really started blooming, that Sissy told Marvin she was pregnant. He was shocked at first, then scared, then worried about what the two of them were going to do. Marvin had assumed she was on the pill, and Sissy didn’t care either way. She was happy for the pregnancy and excited about the baby. She really didn’t care if he was a part of it or not. She figured she’d tell her mother she got knocked up, and her mother would eventually get over it. After all, Sissy’s family had money. They owned four convenience stores in town, and two others in the surrounding area.

“I’m worried about my wife,” Marvin said to her one day.

“Why. I told you, I don’t want anything from you. No one knows about us, and I don’t plan on saying anything to anyone. You have the ideal situation, Marvin.”

“Yeah, but these things can come back to bite you in the ass.”

“I promise it won’t.” Sissy kissed Marvin. “You can trust me.”

Then Sissy and Marvin got in her car. They drove down to the convenience store. Marvin walked over to the lake while she went inside the store and made them two Muenster cheese sandwiches, and grabbed them two twenty-four-ounce bottles of beer. When Sissy came out of the store, he waved. He watched her walk over to the lake. Sissy gave Marvin the sandwich and beer bag when she got there, and then she grabbed the rowboat. She put the oars against its side, and pushed the boat into the water. Sissy got in the boat. Marvin followed.

They rowed to the center of the lake. It was a cool September day, so not many people were out. Mountains surrounded the lake. And on the other side, Marvin could see a few deer eating the leaves off the trees and bushes. He looked at Sissy. She smiled at him. He smiled back then handed her a sandwich out of the bag. When she looked down at her Muenster cheese sandwich, Marvin hit Sissy on the side of the face with his twenty-four-ounce light beer bottle. The impact made a loud thud. He didn’t have leverage on the boat, so the bottle didn’t break. But she still screamed anyway. Then she fell into the water.

“Marvin. Oh, Christ! Oh, Shit! Sissy screamed.

Panicked, Marvin hoisted the bottle again. He swung it down on the top of Sissy’s head. This time it broke. The boat swayed violently, and glass shards fell in the water. Blood poured from Sissy’s forehead, into the lake. She screamed then sunk beneath the surface of the water. Marvin grabbed one of the oars. When she rose, he hit her on the top of the head. He beat her three times. Nothing worked. Marvin threw the oar into the water and looked around. No one was there. So he jumped in the water and grabbed Sissy. Her arms flailed. He grabbed her by the shoulders to pin them. He looked at her. She looked at him through the tears and blood. Her mouth was agape but nothing came out. Sissy didn’t want anything from Marvin. It was a kind gesture. So he made sure to grip her tightly when he pulled her underwater, so the drowning would go fast.

After, Marvin got back in the boat. He pulled the other Muenster cheese sandwich out of the bag, and ate it quickly. It was a little wet, but it tasted okay. It tasted like Sissy. Then he grabbed the other twenty-four-ounce beer out of the bag, and jumped back in the water. Marvin swam back to shore in a laborious manner. It was hard to swim with the beer. When he got to the other side, he got out of the water and crossed the street. He was careful to walk on the other side of the road, away from the convenience store. He didn’t want to see Sissy’s mom working behind that counter. Then Marvin trudged back up the hill toward his in-law’s house. He was wet, but he had his walk back and his bottle of beer. And if all went well, Marvin thought he might go out for a walk again the next afternoon, unless someone finally called him about a job.

Hipsters: give it to me.

So that was the book. feel free to comment from this blog entry to tell me what you thought
of it.

JG

Hipsters chapter 15

15

But Amanda didn’t stay away.
I was in my bedroom a few nights later. I could’ve been writing or listening to music, or maybe catching up with a friend. I’d thought about calling Calvin a few times since Amanda drove away from me, but what could I say to him that didn’t make me look like a fool? Or make our friendship seem more a sham? As for Noah, well, I didn’t hear from him at all. In truth I was doing nothing. I wasn’t grounded, per se. How does one ground a college-bound adult? But my gallivanting around the city, my sleepovers at the apartment of legal-yet-not-really-legal adults, my flagrant breaking of the no smoking/sex rule, made me public enemy number one around the homestead at Phillips Avenue. My parents weren’t really big on catching sight of me, and I wasn’t huge on seeing them either. I went to work. They went to work. I took my meals in some greasy joint near the library, and they seemed to have rekindled this wine-and-foreign-food dinnertime thing. I was never invited to it. I figured it was best to lay low. So I stayed in my room and my parents stayed downstairs. At least they were home more, I guess. College was going to be a long four years if I didn’t get that apartment.
Anyway, there was a knock on my door. I thought it would be my mom or dad. I thought they were ready for a truce. I didn’t really want a truce. I wanted room and board in some small college up north. I wanted my dad to silently hand me enough rent money to supplement what I’d earned so that I could pack a truck, call Noah, and then go out to celebrate at the Cage. I wanted something to happen to break the funk I’d been in since Amanda Evarts pushed me off her naked body, and stormed out of my life. One should be careful what they wish for.
“Come in,” I said.
There was a slight hesitation then Amanda opened my door. Christ if she didn’t look great. Blonde hair like silk coming down just below the chin. She’d obviously had it cut. Amanda was wearing a blue and white sundress that clung to each and every curve on her body, which clearly showed the outline of a thong underneath. There was no bra either, and probably the richest tan I’d seen on a Pittsburgh girl in my lifetime. Amanda had obviously been living well since we ended. I swear I started salivating right then and there, as I ogled her. It felt like I was really and truly seeing Amanda Evarts’ beauty for the first time. I wanted her back so badly. So badly, that I forgot the fights, the name-calling, the awkward moments. I forgot everything. It was amnesia brought upon by loneliness, confinement, and having a pretty girl front and center in my room. Then Amanda gave me an embarrassed smile. I turned away, too, but it was like pulling teeth to turn my head.
“Hey,” she said, softly.
“Hey.” Let bygones be bygones.
“Do you want to take a walk or something?”
“Yeah.”
It was a nice night outside. It was humid, of course, and the sky was void of stars. Stars got lost sometimes in the pink hue cast from the city of Pittsburgh. Amanda and I walked up Phillips Avenue, and then onto the long slope of Shady Avenue. Apartments were illuminated. Young people were having parties and being loud. Music wafted through the air. Private homes hung behind bushes, but inside you could see the muted blue of the television set as the tired working-class put another solemn evening in America to bed. I reached for Amanda’s hand as we walked, but it felt cold and limp, so I let it go after a block. She didn’t seem to care one way or the other. Finally she stopped when we got to Forbes Avenue. People were suddenly all around us, going into restaurants and bars. I couldn’t help but feel like we weren’t angling for a private moment here.
“I need to apologize to you,” Amanda finally said. She took out two cigarettes, and lit them. She handed one to me.
“No need to apologize,” I answered. I took a drag. “Things have just been bad between us. I guess I didn’t expect to have such a reaction to dating someone my friend was into. But you have to understand, I feel like I broke some male code.”
Amanda exhaled her smoke deeply then she sighed. “You’re still on that,” she said, quietly.
“On what?”
“Calvin...and this guilt. You think I’m here because of that? You think we broke up because of that?”
“Did we break up?” I asked.
Amanda nodded.
“Is this negotiable?
She shook her head. No.
“So there’s nothing that I can say to make this better?” It’s funny. A few days ago when she stormed off, I was okay. But now, in the quiet after the storm, I actually believed things could work out for Amanda and I again. “I don’t understand.”
“You will,” Amanda said. “If you think about it.”
“No, I believe I’m pretty dense,” I answered. “I think you need to tell me.”
She had a few more drags on her smoke, but didn’t speak. Was it hard for Amanda to come here and face me like this? Because I know it was hard for me to sit and have to hear it. I got tight. Amanda still didn’t speak. I got worried she’d go mute. I hated when people were being vague with me. I guess I believed that if you had something to say, spit it out, and be on your way.
“I’m seeing someone else,” Amanda finally said. On the other hand, directness wasn’t always good either. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
“When did it happen?” I asked.
“What does it matter?”
I clenched my teeth hard. “Trust me, it matters.”
Amanda turned to me. She looked cold. “So if I said it happened while you were in Atlantic City, then it would make a difference? Or if I said it happened last night?”
“Which one was it?”
“I don’t want to say,” she answered. “And I don’t have to say. Maybe it was both.”
“Did you sleep with him?” Amanda just looked at me. She wasn’t giving that away, either. I was free to come up with my own conclusions, which I did, in vast and varied locations and positions. All the various guys, and all the various positions; they made me nuts. “Amanda?”
“What, Alex?”
“Why did you even come here tonight? Why tell me any of this? I mean you had a free pass. You drove away and you never had to come back.”
“I’m here because I owe you an explanation, as to why I got so distant and cold so fast.”
“So why did you?”
She shrugged. “Because I’m immature? Because I’m only sixteen, and pretty much out of my league in all social situations?”
“That’s why you slept with someone else behind my back?”
“I didn’t say I did that,” Amanda said.
“You didn’t deny it either,” I said.
“Alex, I’m just not the kind of girl you’re looking for. I think maybe Calvin put some idea into your head, and when we met you just went with it.”
“That’s bullshit. You’re just using all of this stuff as a crutch.”
“Speak for yourself,” she said.
“We’re not talking about me.”
“Fine. Then maybe I just didn’t want to be saddled with some guy that I just met, right before my freshman year of college, where I’d have a whole campus of guys to choose from.”
Ouch.
That was when I stood up. Amanda had given me her explanation, and she’d managed to drudge up my old, sorry past at the same time. I didn’t need or want any more details from her about how or why she cheated on me. I needed to leave. Maybe I needed to go to the Cage, and have Noah sort this out with me. I couldn’t believe he was right about her. “So you explained,” I said, bitterly. “Good night.”
Amanda rose too. “You can hate me if you want, but my coming here is a favor to you.”
“Yeah? And how is that?”
“Because I’m seeing Noah,” she said, quietly.
I might’ve staggered a bit. I wasn’t in a lot of fights when I was a kid, maybe a few minor scrapes. And I don’t want to brag, but I never really took a hit. I usually did the hitting. A few punches, a couple slaps to the face, someone would cry, their mother would come out, my mother would come out, and then the whole thing would be over and done with. But when Amanda Evarts told me that she was seeing Noah that, in effect, they were sleeping together, I felt like someone had given me a good left and right combo. I took one to the face on that, and a nice blow to the gut. I wanted to vomit and go down for the count.
“It just happened,” Amanda said.
“These things happen,” I answered, trying to recover. “They happen all the time.”
Amanda made a step forward, and I took a step back. “You and I really never got along, Alex. We were done before we started because of all of this Calvin stuff. So Noah and I saw each other a little bit. We tried to stop. Then I worked the Cage last night, and....I went home with him again.”
“Again?”
“It’s that simple.”
I breathed deep. “It’s not that simple to me.”
“But it’s what happened.”
“He’s my goddamned friend!” I shouted. I never shouted. People stopped on the street to look at me, then they moved on.
“I know that.”
“I hang out with the guy all the time! Christ, I’m supposed to move into the apartment!”
“You were never going to get that place.” Amanda shifted uncomfortably. She was really good at cruelty. “Noah just strung you along because that’s what you wanted to hear. That guy, Killian, he’s moving in there next month.”
“You’re a liar.”
“Not about any of this.”
“Well I don’t want the damned place anyway,” I lied. Amanda Evarts didn’t deserve to see me fall. Then I backed away a little bit.
“I know what that apartment meant to you,” she said.
“Christ.”
“At least you know, Alex,” she said. “At least there are no illusions.”
“Yeah, who needs those?”
Amanda shrugged. She didn’t care. She never cared.
“Does Noah know you’re telling me all of this?”
“He knows I plan on telling you at some point.”
“And he’s fine with that?”
“Let’s just say, Noah, doesn’t carry any guilt around with him.”
Hit a man when he’s down, I thought. That’s the old Amanda Evarts spirit. “Are you seeing him tonight?”
“Why?” She gave me a cautious look.
“Because I want to talk to him.”
“You know that’s not a good idea right now.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ve had a good idea all summer.”
Amanda shook her head. “You’re an idiot.”
“I know but...” I never finished the thought. Amanda brushed past me and began walking away up Shady, her last bit of damage done to perfection. “Did you ever care about me?” I called out.
She stopped and turned to face me. “I tried.” Then Amanda Evarts began walking again. Gone, gone, gone.
I went back and sat on the bench. It seemed that more and more people were on the street now. I felt suffocated. Then, in a few moments, like the pierce of a deep stab wound, Amanda Evarts’ car came barreling down the street. As bad luck would have it, she got stuck at a red light. We were almost parallel. I glared into the car, but she kept facing forward. I could hear our music coming out of her windows, and she was on her cell phone. She was laughing and smiling. There was no residual anger left on her face. Amanda’s hands were clean of the blood, and I was a ghost. She was talking to someone on the other end of that phone, and, goddamn it, I was sure I knew who it was. Noah. He was making her happy. He was making her laugh, at least for now. Then the light changed and Amanda drove off. I stayed on the bench a few more moments, before I got up and began walking down Forbes.
The Cage was dead when I got there. There were a couple of drunks at the bar, and a few couples in booths eating food. Noah was at the other end of the bar. He was flirting with the other waitress, this cute redhead named, Gloria. When she saw me, Gloria, stopped talking and she tapped Noah on the shoulder. He turned with a grin but lost it as soon as we made eye contact.
“Hey Big Al.”
“I’m not getting the apartment, am I?”
Noah stared at me. All the color drained from his face. “This isn’t the time or place for this.”
“I’m not here for a fight,” I said. “I just want to hear the truth.”
“You’re not getting the room. The truth is you have a bedroom at home, and Killian needs a place. He and Clara broke up, and she wants him out. The poor guy is actually sleeping on my couch now.”
“So that’s it?”
“That’s it.”
I sat down on a stool. “Give me an beer,” I said. Noah stared at me blankly. “It’s the least you can do for me.” He got me a beer and slammed it down on the bar. Foam rose up, but I grabbed it in time.
“That’s the last one.” He pointed at the bottle of Iron. “You don’t come here anymore, okay?”
“Fine.” I took a pull on the beer, but then I couldn’t contain myself. “How could you hook up with Amanda behind my back?”
Noah sighed then was silent a moment. “She told me you were through.”
“You were with her when I was in Atlantic City!”
“That was a mistake. We didn’t sleep together that night.”
“That’s not what Amanda says.”
“What can I say, Big Al? The girl is a liar.”
“And you were my friend.”
“I’m still your friend.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am,” he said. “And when you’re done being mad you’ll realize it.”
“No you’re not,” I said. “Friends don’t do this to each other.”
“Fine.” Noah wiped the bar, nervously. “Amanda is just a girl anyway.”
“She was my girl.”
He laughed. “I don’t think Amanda Evarts is anybody’s girl.”
“That’s just an excuse,” I said. “You’re just trying to make yourself feel better.”
“No,” he said. “I’m trying to make you feel better.”
“You couldn’t if you tried.”
“I warned you about that girl.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I know. But I didn’t think you were warning me about you, too.”
Suddenly Noah’s face turned red. “It just happened, okay. I can’t apologize for it.... I...I won’t. Amanda, and me, we’ve been happening for a long time, in bits and pieces. We just finally realized it last night.”
God, hearing that made my stomach churn. “So you love her or something?
“No,” he answered. “Guys don’t love girls like that.”
“Maybe I could’ve.”
“You never had a shot.”
“Christ.” I finished my beer then got up and made for the door.
“Big Al,” Noah called. I stopped. “Don’t be this way. You guys were done.”
“Why her?” I asked. “Why Amanda when you have your pick of all the hipsters chicks in Pittsburgh?”
He was still a moment. “She was different. Amanda was different from all those other girls.”
“No one’s really different,” I said. Then I grabbed the Cage’s door. My hand was shaking.
“Come on, Big Al. Don’t be childish about this.”
I shook my head, sadly. “I’m not the child. Amanda is.”
“Huh?”
“She’s only sixteen,” I said.
Noah laughed. “Yeah, sure she is.”
“It’s true.”
“Now you’re lying,” he said. But I could see in his eyes that he believed I might be right. “Amanda Evarts is eighteen. She’s going to college.”
“Ask her to tell you the story about that,” I said. “It’s a good one.”
Then I walked out of the bar.
There was really nowhere for me to go. I stood on the corner of Forbes and Murray Avenues for a moment to collect my thoughts. I looked back inside the Cage. Noah was already flirting with Gloria again. He had no conscience. I mean I didn’t expect Noah to be wailing on the bar or anything, but maybe a small touch of solemn contemplation would’ve been nice. Screw it. I guess he and Amanda Evarts deserved each other. It stung to think it, but it was probably true. Still, I needed somewhere to drown my sorrows. Almost by instinct I called Calvin on his cell. Of course I got no answer. He and Steve were probably checking the phone, watching my number come up, and ignoring it. But I really felt a strong need for my old friends in that moment. So I called Calvin’s house. I got his mother. She told me the guys were at the Metro. So that’s where I went.
The Metro was pretty dead. It always was in the middle of the week. A couple of guys were huddled at tables, laughing and being guys, and there were a few groups of girls hanging around; a pack of them were dancing in the back of the place. It was pretty easy to spot my friends. They were at a table around the middle of the club. Calvin was there, of course, and Steve; Tom McDannen and George Rubio rounded out the group. There was even an extra chair at the table. I was hoping it could be mine.
“Hey,” I said when I got over to them.
“Dude,” Steve said, in his grating, gravel voice. All would be well. “Are you lost?”
Okay, it would be a little hard.
“No,” I said. “I figured you guys would be down here. I tried to call, but...”
“We know.”
“.... I couldn’t get through,” I finished.
Steve laughed. “That should’ve been your first clue.”
“Come on, guys. You can’t be this mad at me.” I looked at Calvin, but he had his head down. “I made a mistake. It was an error in judgment.”
“You were thinkin’ with the wrong head, Javorski,” George said. Then he laughed that giggle I hated. But he was right.
I nodded, and then I really humbled myself. “If it means anything, Amanda and I are through. That so-called friend of mine, Noah; she’s seeing him now.”
“Justice served,” Steve said. He smirked. Then he got up from the table and left.
“Cal?” I said. Calvin still hadn’t lifted his head to look at me. “Come on, Cal.”
Tom McDannen tapped George on the shoulder. “Come on, jaggoff, let’s go see if we can find some chicks.” George gave Tom an odd look. But then he nodded, and the two of them were gone too.
“Calvin,” I started again.
He looked up at me. “I know you’re sorry, Alex. And I believe you. It’s just.... it’s just.... I was really into Amanda. I know I told you it was cool that you saw her, but it was wrong. And I guess once you saw how much it hurt me; I thought maybe you’d realize it. But you didn’t. Or, if you did, you didn’t do much about it. You actually made it worse.”
I sat down at the table. “I’m an ass. What can I say? But I learned my lesson, Calvin. I got it thrown right back in my face.”
“I know. And I’m sorry,” he said. Calvin’s pity tore at me. “I guess I feel like I’m happy it was you instead of me, you know?”
“I know.”
“But I’m still mad. Alex, you were, like, my oldest friend.”
“I am your oldest friend,” I said.
Calvin nodded. “But you went ahead and did this without even really thinking about it.” Then he was quiet a moment. “What kind of person does that make you?”
I thought about it a second. “A guy who makes mistakes?”
“Maybe a guy who doesn’t give a crap about his friends,” he added.
“It’s not as harsh as all of that.” Then I found myself saying something that Noah said. It was funny. I mean it wasn’t really funny, but funny all things considered. “Amanda Evarts is just a girl. You and me, we’re like.... like...brothers.”
Calvin nodded. “I know. That’s why it hurts so much.” Then he got up from the table.
“But you said you were cool with it,” I said, falling back on my old, tired argument. “Just give me some time, Alex,” Calvin said. “Okay?”
I kicked at the floor. “Christ, I feel like I’m breaking up again.” He winced. All right, no minimal homosexual references. “Look, Cal, can you and I hang out some time and talk. Maybe we could do something next weekend.”
“Us guys are going to see the Pirates next weekend.”
“That would be cool.”
“We didn’t get you a ticket.”
“I understand,” I said. “Well, I’m at your disposal.”
“Maybe I’ll give you a call or something, some other time.”
“I’d like that.”
“Okay.”
Then Calvin left the table, too. And I was really alone.
I got up and looked at my old pals. They were all huddled by a bar that sold soft drinks. None of them were looking at me. I made to leave. When I walked by, Tom glanced at me. He looked concerned. Maybe all would be okay, or maybe his care would pass once I stepped outside the Metro’s door. I looked at Calvin. He looked at me too. But then he turned and started talking to Steve and George. He said something and George giggled. Then Calvin had his good old innocent smile back.
I got outside the Metro. It was late. The dockworkers were arriving for the graveyard shift at the fruit processing plant. I probably should’ve taken the bus back to Squirrel Hill, but I decided to walk. Pittsburgh looked beautiful. It looked illuminated in the hot, glowing summer night. Every street was bathed in the amber hue of streetlights and neon. Each home that I passed gave off a warm feeling of hope. For a moment I was happy. I was content with the carnage that I had been through, and maybe even for what I put others through. I guess it had to happen.
But I knew in my heart of hearts that everything would work out all right. Calvin would call me and we’d be shouting about how bad the Pirates were in a few weeks. I was suddenly hopeful for the life that followed Amanda Evarts, Noah Banks, and the rest of those hipsters. I thought about them. I thought about the way they moved through the city streets carelessly, their hearts and minds full of the madness of the night just before dawn hit. Then I thought about my old friends too. I realized they were just the same. No one was special. I certainly wasn’t special. No one was different. We all just were. And sometimes we needed each other, and sometimes we had to let go and find something else for a while. Then I thought about what I was going to find next, and about a young life of irreplaceable joy and sorrow. And I wondered about it all. I wondered.

The End.

Hipsters Chapter 14

14

Amanda was fast asleep on the floor of Noah’s room, when he and I came in. She was in a makeshift bed of sheets and blankets and throw pillows. She was stripped down to a black pair of underwear and a matching bra. She was passed out above the sheets. Amanda wouldn’t even condescend to sleep on the bed with me, the bed Noah had once again given up for us. Then Noah laughed nervously, and we both shrugged at our predicament. The couch downstairs was taken. Drunken hipsters were using the other rooms. Tons of them were crashing here for the night. I looked at Amanda again. She was calm and off in dreamland. Noah chuckled a second time. Then he and I undressed to our boxer shorts and fell into the rickety waste of the small bed. It would’ve been a riot had it happened to someone else. At least no one was sleeping on a sliver of sheet in all of their clothing.
The air in the room was stagnant. It was humid. The room reeked of body odor and used alcohol. The old beat-up fan whirled from a window nearest Amanda. The damn thing blew nothing but small waves of hot air. I could barely feel it. Within minutes my body became pasted with sweat without even moving a muscle. Eventually I must’ve fallen asleep. Sometime near dawn I felt a subtle movement on the bed, and then the soft strands of Amanda’s hair as she nestled into my arms. She immediately began snoring again. As I turned to face her, I heard Noah snicker quietly. When I looked, he grinned at me. I turned away, unable to witness the spectacle of us. Three sorry people clad in our underwear.
Soon Noah’s snores mingled with Amanda’s. I was left alone with myself. My heart felt heavy at the idea of going through another day like yesterday. I could already picture it. There’d be arguments with Amanda, and there’d be more issues with guilt and parents and friends. My parents? I checked my cellphone. I didn’t even want to see what was printed on it, and I didn’t even bother to check my messages. I was screwed the whole way around. I closed my eyes tightly. I wanted to fall asleep and dream forever.
But the day came. There was a huge mess on the front porch. I decided I’d be a nice guy, so I set about cleaning it. The water in the coolers was still cold, so I took out a beer and had a sip every so many sweeps. I thought that cleaning the porch would get me in even better with Noah and his roommates. Then the room would absolutely be mine.
Amanda woke up. She was hungover. She came out onto the porch, rocking herself into a sickly calm on the rocking chair. I spent over an hour cleaning the carnage, as Amanda cuddled into herself. She kept groaning and cursing. We made no mention of the stuff that had been said. In fact, Amanda’s sick feeling actually brought out a kindness in her that I hadn’t seen since we’d first started seeing each other. She laughed at my jokes. She called me kind when I got her some aspirin and water. But the day was young, and I doubted such niceties were going to last.
The city worked itself into another scorching frenzy of a summer day. I called in sick from work, and Amanda and I drove back up to my house. We laid in bed a short while, fumbling around each other’s bodies. We made awkward attempts at passion, until we gave up entirely. For a time we rested in vain, nursing our booze sicknesses, hoping the sweat from our failed copulation would cool us off. It didn’t. And I wasn’t about to turn on the AC because my old man checked the electric bill like a scientist examining the newest species. He was all over it.
So we fled to a suburban mall. I hated the mall. All day, as we walked along I tried to re-ignite our feelings. I took a hold of Amanda’s hand and gave it a playful swing. But she always let go a short time later. I tried to kiss her, but she balked. I offered lunch, but she wouldn’t eat it. I offered the movies, but nothing was playing. It was no good. In the end, Amanda strutted through the mall as if I were non-existent. I didn’t care. Sadly, this had been our first real date.
Back at my house, Amanda pulled a 180. She undressed completely. She got on my futon and began touching herself. Then she drew me closer. I fell for it. In an instant our lips met roughly, and our teeth clanked together from violent necking. Saliva hung in strings between us. My breathing got harder, and my brain forgot everything bad that had passed. I got hard. Amanda groaned loudly. She pushed my head down her naked body, until I was between her legs. But I couldn’t get into it. My mind awoke. I felt raw and terrible. But it wasn’t guilt this time. This was a different feeling. It was ominous. Still, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s so funny?” she moaned.
“I don’t get you,” I answered. I raised my head up. “All last night you criticized me. You made it a point to hang all over Karl, and to accuse Noah of some pretty crazy stuff. Then you insulted me. You basically accused me of stabbing Calvin in the back, when you know how that makes me feel. You told me that you were tired of me, and you stormed off into the cottage, leaving me no choice but to get in bed with Noah, only to come cuddling in between us later on.”
“I was drunk and upset.”
“You weren’t that drunk, or that upset.”
“Hey!” Amanda snapped. She nudged my head away from her, and closed her legs.
“This morning you were the picture of love, sitting on the porch and spouting out kind words. And then at the mall you treated me like I was a leper. Now you’re naked on my bed again, and here I am with...with...listen, I might live in a world full of confusion, but I’m not really a fan of it. Plain and simple, I don’t understand you, Amanda Evarts.”
“Fuck you!” Amanda shouted. She kicked me away. Then she rolled off of the futon and quickly began to get dressed.
“Fuck me?”
“Yeah!”
“What are you doing now?” I asked. “Playing hard to get?”
“I’m getting dressed and getting the hell out of here.”
“You don’t want to talk about this?”
No answer.
“They say that talking is therapeutic.”
No answer again.
“Come on, Amanda, open up.”
Nothing.
“You mean you don’t have a reason for any of the behavior?” I said. “No explanation? There’s nothing in your life causing a mental imbalance of some sort? You’re just going to throw your clothes on and split without anything? You’re just going to let me go crazy wondering what went wrong for me this time!”
Still no answer. I looked at her. Her face was pale and content. There was no anger there. There was no passion. Amanda looked devoid of any emotion whatsoever. She was placid in an eerie way.
I laughed. “Well Christ, Amanda,” I said. I sat on the futon and lit a cigarette. “Thanks for nothing.”
She finished dressing. She checked herself quickly in the window, and then stormed out of my room. She slammed the door so hard it popped back open. I felt so purged and sinisterly liberated. I felt absolutely uncompelled to chase after Amanda and straighten anything out. But I did it anyway. I did it out of guilt.
Outside, Amanda stomped down the porch steps and marched to her waiting car. She got in and turned the key. Music blasted from the interior. But she waited. “You really want to end it like this?” I asked, when I reached her. “You don’t want to talk?”
Amanda glared at me. Then she smiled. It was a sly smile. I’d seen it so many ways, so many times. “You just don’t get it, do you Alex?”
“Get what?”
“Me. Maybe why Sarah dumped you...”
“Don’t bring up Sarah,” I said.
“No, I wouldn’t want to bring up precious Sarah. I wouldn’t want to bring up your other failures, would I?”
“She wasn’t my failure.”
“Yeah right.”
“We were just different.”
“Keep thinking that.”
“Go to hell,” I said.
Amanda laughed sadly. “You know, I might be the younger one here, but you’re about as naive as they come.”
“What do you mean?”
“Goodbye, Alex.” Amanda rolled up her window, and was gone. She was probably gone for good.
I stood on Phillips Avenue. I couldn’t say that I was in shock. Shock would have necessitated me thinking that this moment in time was never going to happen. But watching Amanda Evarts drive away that last time was inevitable; she’d been driving away from me for weeks. True, our fight and nasty tit for tat wasn’t the conclusion that I wanted. At least not in terms of its execution: I was much more a fan of peaceable dissolution. And I was hurt a little by her quick, brutal exit. But for some reason the finality of Amanda and me seemed the most normal thing we’d had during the course of our relationship. It seemed right.

Hipsters Chapter 13

13

I heard his laugh. It came in the midst of a dream I was having about Amanda Evarts. I heard Noah Banks’ laugh, clear as day. I opened my eyes and the blurry yellow of the day hit. Amanda was sitting up in bed. She looked angelic and illuminated by the sun. Her blonde hair was askew and her face was pillow-blotched. She had her small breasts hidden underneath a white sheet, but I could still see the dark of her small nipples. She was a site, and I was hungry for her now that everything was right between us. Everything was as it should be. I felt like she and I could really begin now, this time, for sure.
“Hey beautiful,” I said.
“Hey yourself.” Amanda’s face darkened.
“Why the look of contempt?”
“Are you up?”
“Yes.”
“Can you function?”
“I think.” I rose from my pillow. That’s when I felt the pounding thud ringing between my ears. I didn’t want to move. I was afraid I would hurt more. “I need aspirin and water, I think.”
Amanda pointed toward the doorway. I looked. The thudding in my head became a symphony of pain and sickness. I focused my eyes. There was Noah, in the doorway, with the water and aspirin I so desperately wanted.
“Christ,” I said, dazed. I sank back onto my pillow.
Noah laughed. “The fun and games always end the next day.”
“What did you do to me?” I asked. He came over and sat on the bed. He handed me the aspirin and the water.
“I introduced you to Canadian Club whiskey,” he said. I took the aspirin and shot down the water. It was a huge mistake. My stomach rumbled, the pain in my head seared, and I was up like a bolt, naked except for my boxers. “And now you’ll be introducing it to the toilet.”
I ran into the bathroom. I just made it, before a torrent of used up beer, food, and whiskey plummeted into the bowl. I was on my knees. Sweat rose up in me. I heaved again and again and again, until I felt like my guts would come up. This was death for sure. This was the worst kind of death. Then I heaved again. It was one last, great heave. When I came up for air, I could hear Noah and Amanda laughing in the bedroom. Were they laughing at me?
“You knew this was coming this morning,” Amanda said, when I staggered back into the room. She was still holding a sheet to her breasts and Noah was sitting right there.
“Give the man a break,” he said. “He’s a whiskey drinker now.”
“I still contend you tried to poison me,” I said, getting back in the bed. “Maybe you had an ulterior motive. Maybe you were trying to get me out of the picture, so you could screw my girlfriend.” No one laughed.
“That’s such a charming thought,” Amanda finally said. She rose off of the bed with the sheet wrapped protectively around her.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To the bathroom. I have to get ready for another stupid day at Roadwise, if that’s okay with you?”
“Work?”
“Yeah. I picked up an afternoon.”
“You didn’t tell me,” I said. “We never talk anymore.” I said it as a joke. But, again, no one laughed.
Then Amanda shrugged. “I must’ve forgot.” She looked at Noah. “I think I might put my notice in today, too.... if you think I should.”
Noah nodded. “Do it. I’ll meet you at the Cage this evening, and we’ll square it all away with Rich.” Then he looked at me. “Your girl is gonna be under my wing, per se.”
“I heard,” I said, looking at Amanda. She gave me stern look then I turned back to Noah. “Looks like you’ll be seeing me more and more.”
“Yeah, right, Big Al. Rules still apply.”
I grabbed my wallet out of my jeans, and showed him the fake I.D. that I got from Steve Scanlon. “Rules are made to be broken.”
Noah looked at the I.D. and frowned, which wasn’t what I expected. “Childish.”
“Yeah, well that’s Steve Scanlon for you,” Amanda added. “And people who hang out with him.”
Her tone pissed me off. But I had nothing to say back. I mean she was right. Steve was childish. But I wasn’t. I just didn’t like how she and Noah were ganging up on me. They should’ve been cooler. A fake I.D. meant I could come and talk with Noah at the Cage, and see Amanda on those late nights she had to work. I shouldn’t have been getting shit about it. Maybe Calvin wasn’t the problem between us. I looked at Noah. He just stared straight ahead. Once Amanda abandoned the hallway and closed the bathroom door behind her, he turned to me with a sympathetic shrug.
“At least you finally got rid of your guilt,” he said.
“Yeah, but to what end?”
“Sex?”
From the bathroom came the rusty squealing of the shower nozzle, and the brash opening of a torn baseball-themed shower curtain. Then Amanda Evarts sang something I didn’t know. It was amazing to me how peaceful she sounded when alone. She sounded refreshed. Sarah used to sing in the shower too. She sang show tunes, and songs by chick singers. I continued listening to Amanda, as Noah and I sat quietly on the bed and smoked a cigarette. The joyous sounds of her getting ready for work: the swirl of a borrowed hairdryer, the make-up bag zipping and unzipping, and the thumps of her feet as her legs went through underwear and pants. It all depressed me. I felt like a failure at the old love game again.
The bathroom door shot opened. Amanda bound back into the bedroom with the same angry look she’d had when she left. She set down her bag and looked at Noah and me sitting on the bed. “Don’t you two look cozy?”
“How’d you get a change of clothes?” I asked. “More to the point, how did your bag get here?”
Amanda gave me a strange look.
“You must’ve been pretty drunk last night,” Noah said to me. “You don’t remember me telling you that Amanda and I were going to get her stuff from her car.”
“I didn’t know Amanda had stuff with her.”
“I...I always have an extra change of clothes on me,” she said.
“You do?”
“I told you that weeks ago. Don’t you remember?”
“I guess not. But your car was parked all the way up on Philips.”
Noah shrugged. “It was a nice night. We walked.”
“Drunk?” I asked.
“Only you were drunk, Alex,” Amanda added.
I thought about everything from last night, for a moment. Noah was gone. Amanda wasn’t sitting with the others. It made obvious sense; aside from misunderstanding about the change in clothing Amanda always claimed to have on her. I know she never told me about that. “Are you coming over tonight?” I asked, as she gathered her things.
“Are we actually doing something tonight?” she said.
“Same as usual.” I smiled Amanda didn’t smile.
“You’re damn right we’re doing something!” Noah broke in, saving me. I lifted my head. His self-assured smirk electrified the room. “I’m throwing another little bash tonight!”
“You are?” Amanda said. She leaned back. He expression softened.
“I don’t know if I can,” I said. “I mean my parents, you know?”
Amanda laughed bitterly at this.
“Oh, like you can get away with two nights?”
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s called ignoring their calls and not going home.”
“Children,” Noah began, diplomatically. “Let’s not fight about this. To hell with parents, I say. Alex,” he looked at me, “do as your girlfriend said. Don’t tell the folks. I have plans for us today anyway.”
“You do?”
“Yes. You’re helping me get the stuff for tonight. Then while I’m with Miss Amanda, here, you will be setting up things back on the home front. Get it?”
I nodded.
Amanda smiled and looked at her watch. “Are we done here? Otherwise I’ll be late.”
Quickly, she walked over to me and planted a cold kiss on my lips. Amanda’s arms hung around my neck an extra second. It seemed like they wanted to linger. But then she let go. I felt a familiar pain. Loss. So close this time, Javorski. But maybe I was just being overly dramatic. Hell, Amanda had been drinking too. I wouldn’t want to be going to work at the library after a night like that.
I watched Noah and Amanda make small talk. They seemed so easy and comfortable together. Noah would say something and Amanda would laugh. Hadn’t I had that just three weeks ago? Hadn’t I had that once for nearly three years? I watched them some more. It was like I wasn’t in the room. And I knew it. Maybe Amanda was just a passing phase in my life. Maybe she was temporary to me. I watched Amanda hug Noah. Then she blew me a kiss, and left. Maybe it was just a matter of time before she’d be gone for good.
Noah and I spent the day racing around the city in his car. We picked up booze and other provisions for that goddamned party. We talked about the time that had passed between us. He kept telling me how cool it was that I wasn’t like the rest of his friends. It was all of the stuff I’d heard a million times. It used to make me feel good when Noah said things like that. But, riding in his car on a hot summer afternoon, I just felt like some odd thing he collected. I felt like some freak, which was strange considering people like Steve Scanlon always called the Noahs of the world, freaks. Then he blasted music and laughed. I thought about Amanda Evarts. I wondered if she smiled at all during the day, and, if so, who had made her do it.
By early evening I had managed to clear away a few beers, as I set the rest of them in old coolers on Noah’s front porch. While I set up chairs and chain-smoked, I thought about maybe going up to the Cage to surprise Amanda. I wanted to lend her some support. But I didn’t in the end. It was a stupid idea. I mean Amanda was already trying to put one over on Noah and his boss. It just would’ve looked bad for her teen boyfriend to show up. They were gone a long time, though. I was kind of worried.
I did do something worse, however. I called Calvin on his cell phone to invite him and the guys to the party. When Cal didn’t pick up, I called Steve. Steve didn’t pick up either. I dialed Tom. Then I dialed George. I went down the line and called them all again. No one picked up. I guess I was done with those guys once and for all.
Noah eventually arrived back at the cottage. He was alone. Or, rather, he was without Amanda. Gene Oldham, Karl Rudolph, and the girl that I only knew as Gennifer with a G, Noah’s sometimes girlfriend, were with him. No one said anything about Amanda being absent, but Noah said the interview went great and that she got the job. So where was Amanda Evarts to celebrate? I watched as everyone sat in a semi-circle. They were drinking beer and laughing. Gene plucked quietly on an acoustic guitar. I asked Karl where Amanda was, but he just laughed nervously and said ‘women.’
The sun was setting. I looked at my watch. Amanda was nowhere to be found. I sent her a text. Then I called Calvin again, as more people ascended the stone steps of the cottage and Noah restocked the coolers with mounds of import beer. I got the same response as before. Finally I took a seat on an old rocking chair. I cracked open a beer. All the hipsters chatted coolly, as I surveyed the scene. I felt alone.
As the night wore on, more and more of Noah’s friends began to show up. By now, I knew all of their bored faces and I had little to say to a lot of them. Killian arrived drunk with a group of his hipster, poet friends. They were all laughing and trying to outdo each other with knowledge about the most obscure of writers. Clara wasn’t with them. Killian immediately began harassing me about writing. He pointed his thin fingers into my chest. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to go home and scream about Amanda. I wanted to hit the Metro and have Steve call me a pussy or something, and then laugh as George Rubio told me a dick or fart joke.
Finally, Amanda showed up. She looked fresh and relaxed, and aloof. She had on a sundress and nothing underneath. We eyed each other, but she kept her distance. She made the rounds from Noah to Gene to Karl, and then to everyone else. Amanda knew all of the hipsters more than I did. But soon she gave in and came over to me. We kissed, and had a few strained words. I felt her dress to make sure my assumption about nothing underneath was correct. I was right. Amanda gave me an uncomfortable giggle. Then she moved away. She plucked a beer from the cooler and sat beyond my grasp. She poured all of her energy into fawning over Karl.
I hung around for about another hour, listening to Amanda’s buffoonish come-ons to Karl. The poor fool stared ahead as she whispered in his ear. He looked scared shitless. I looked at Amanda, hoping for something in her eyes. There was nothing. She would stare back at me blankly, and then suck down another beer. Amanda Evarts was getting drunk. She was sitting almost on top of Karl, and she had her sundress hiked up to her thighs. Amanda seemed so cheap that she depressed me. I grabbed myself another beer and got off the porch. Noah watched me but said nothing. I thought I heard Amanda laugh. I needed to be alone. So I went and sat on Noah’s back porch. A half hour later, she found me sitting there.
“What's wrong, Alex?” She opened the backdoor, and tripped out on the steps to join me. “You're always sulking.”
“I'm just enjoying the silence, babe.”
“Running away from your own party. That's brilliant. Why did you go and invite all of those people, if you were just going to run away?”
“I invited no one. They’re all friends of Noah.”
“But you just happened to do all of the work.”
“Something like that,” I said.
“You’re such a fool,” Amanda continued, derisively. Then she sat down, flung her head back, and stared into the night sky. “It’s part of your charm, I suppose.”
“Thanks.”
“No. Thank you, Alex Javorski,” she said, laughing.
I shrugged. I didn’t know what she meant by that, and I didn’t care. I reached for my beer, and took a good pull. “Anyway, the beer is running out and this little shindig will be over soon.”
Amanda laughed. I was beginning to hate her laugh. Then she lit a smoke from her own pack. They were the same brand Noah smoked. As we sat there, a large group of people led by Gene Oldham walked up Forbes. “I guess that leaves me with you, Noah, and Karl,” she said. “Unless God totally hates me and Calvin shows up with that prick, Steve.”
“I don't think Calvin and Steve are coming. I called them, but no one got back in touch with me.”
“You actually called, Calvin?” Amanda said. “Of course you called, Calvin. You wouldn’t be Alex Javorski without the guilt.”
“Sure.”
“You’re a real glutton for punishment.”
“Yeah.” I finished my beer. “Like I said, no one got in touch with me. So don’t worry, you won’t be stuck here with them tonight.”
“I'm not stuck with anybody. I drove here.”
“Yeah, but you're not leaving,” I said. I put a hand on her beer. “If you have any brains you’ll stay here and sleep it off, like I am, and suffer the consequences tomorrow. Plus you’re underage. If you leave, you could get into trouble...or worse.”
Amanda smirked. “Whatever. Too bad you don’t know how to handle your friends.”
“I’m not responsible for my friends.”
“Noah treats you just as badly as you treat Calvin.”
“Where’s this coming from?” I asked.
“You acted like Calvin was so important to you, but all I had to do was bat my little eyes and you were rolling all over the bed with me.”
“It was that simple, huh?’
“Yes. Except for all your guilt. Oh, poor Calvin. I can’t sleep with my girlfriend because of poor old Calvin.”
“You’re being kind of a bitch, do you know that?”
“Maybe I’m always a bitch.”
“Whatever.”
“At least I have a backbone. You, Alex Javorski, you have no backbone.”
“Fair enough.”
Then we heard the screen door tap and Noah laugh. Everything was funny to everyone that night. Nothing was funny to me. I didn’t want Noah there at that moment. But he came on to the back porch to join us anyway. Amanda pushed her face close to mine. “Did you know he grabbed my ass twice tonight?” she whispered.
“I thought you kids had taken off,” Noah shouted, drunkenly. I turned to gaze at him. His face was splotchy and swollen. He stood over us with his fists nailed firmly into his hips, like a dejected superhero. He didn’t look like himself.
“The party’s over?” I asked.
“Over? I just sent people out for girls, more beer, and other shit. The party is far from over, Big Al.”
“Hey Noah...” I started, but I stopped myself. I didn’t want to ask the question I was going to ask.
Amanda glared at me, and I knew. By not taking Noah on, I’d failed her again.
“Come on, buck up, Big Al!” he continued. “This party is seriously lacking in women.” Then he looked at Amanda. “Except you, sweetness. You’re the finest thing here. You’re not into any kinky stuff, are you?”
“You’re a real class act,” Amanda said.
“Ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black, babe?”
Amanda looked at me. “Cat got your tongue, Alex? Or don’t you care that your friend is insulting me?”
“Noah, don’t insult Amanda,” I said plainly. Maybe I should’ve defended her more, but for some reason I just didn’t buy this little fight. It seemed put on. Amanda and Noah were getting along too well before this. Although he did come home without her. And Amanda had been acting odd all night. Did Noah come on to Amanda? “I mean just leave her alone, okay?”
“Gee, thanks,” Amanda said. “Thanks for being a world-class jerk.”
Noah laughed. “Don’t insult, Big Al. He knows that I’m a truth teller.”
“And just what do you know?”
“I know a lot more than you do.”
“Screw you!” Amanda shouted. Then she stormed off.
“Well that about ends the night,” I said, getting up.
“Go and chase her, then, Alex,” Noah scoffed, shooing me away as if I were trash. “I’m sure she’s off trying to dry hump, Karl, by now.”
I did as instructed. When I caught up with Amanda, she was in tears. “Hang on a second,” I said, clasping her arm. She stopped still and stared at me.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I just want to talk.” I tried to smile.
“Fine.” She broke free from my grasp. “Talk.”
But I had nothing to say.
“That’s what I thought,” she said. Then Amanda bound down the avenue toward her waiting car.
“Wait!” I shouted. “You can’t go! You’ve been drinking!”
She spun around. “I’m not leaving. I wouldn’t want to ruin your life by dying in a car wreck. I’m going to bed.” She went to her car and grabbed her overnight bag. “I’m so tired of you, Alex,” Amanda finally said, before walking up the cottage steps and disappearing down the walkway. I was tired of me, too.