Down to the Dirt (13 page)

SMASH!

Glass shattering on the bathroom floor.

I’m up out of bed in a flash.

I checks my bedside clock.

2:35 a.m.

Been tryin’ to get through to her for days. I don’t just mean through to her, like in the regular
pick-up-the-goddamn-phone
sorta sense. I means
through
to her. She was on the bloody phone alright, but she wasn’t
really
there. Always rushin’ off to some fuckin’ play, some big-shot nightclub with her new snort-mongrel, prancin’ and privileged suck-hole theatre friends. Mushroom season. Period cramps. Aunt Gertie waitin’ on an important phone call. Taxi’s here. All that shit. All that shit took its toll.

She was all so soft too. Make ya fuckin’ sick.

—Yes, Keith, for God’s sake. Will you listen to yourself? Come off it, sweetheart. Am I not allowed to make the best of this?

Sweetheart.

See, I wasn’t askin’ her to have a bad time of it. No I was not. I was only wantin’ to find some way to make the best of it myself, and she wasn’t much help. You should’ve heard her. Like I was delayed or something. She just didn’t get it.

—What do you expect me to do, Keith? Pack it all in, jump on the next flight, blow another few hundred dollars so you
can sleep better? Lyin’ there with a knife, threatening to carve yourself up because you thinks I’m up to something? C’mon, Keith, sweetie. It’s always just you and me. I’m still here. Look, my cab’s here. I gotta go…I’ll call you tonight…Yes! For frig sakes, I promise. Now I have to go…Yes I loves you…Yes I knows how much you loves me…Look, I
really
have to go…I can’t do this right now. I’ll talk to you later. I’ll talk to you later—

Click.

Now what the fuck was that? See how cold? See how empty?
Sweetie.

Leavin’ me to pace the floors and wait. Pacin’ the floors. Imagine a handsome fella like myself up pacin’ the floors over some young one. Cuttin’ myself up over some flimsy young one.

And she never called first nor last. She never called. Gone for the whole night. Out there somewhere. With someone. At something. She never called. You knows that hot, grindin’ sensation you gets in your gut? Like if something don’t soon give, like your bowels or your lungs or your goddamn head, then you’re just gonna fuckin’ explode? Splat. Coat the walls. That’s how I was feelin’. Like I had to break, smash, fuckin’ destroy something quick, before the whole situation destroyed me or I destroyed myself. That turned out to be my short-wave radio. Never did work right anyhow.

Some says that too much anger is a bad thing, that it cripples you and it eats you alive and all that shit. I says it’s the one feeling that makes me feel…whole. But enough about me.

During my long night of pacin’, one of the longest nights of my long, long life, I received a visitor. Andrew the Psychology Major. My old friend. Tryin’ to play me for a lab rat.

I pretty much lost Andy to the world a while back. I s’pose around the time I first started seein’ Natasha. But that happens to the best of us. We gets that first taste of new skin and everything else goes out the window.

I’ve known Andy since kindergarten. It’s always been a bit of a strange relationship, but never so strange as since he started on his psychology degree. Now he
really
understands me. Matter of fact, he understands just about everything under the goddamn sun these days. But there’re an awful lot of things in this fucked-up world that you can’t find no answer to in some grand and fabulous fifty-dollar textbook. Still, I lets him say his thing. I loves to be analyzed.

—Hates to bust your bubble, Keith, but there’s no camera rollin’. You’re not livin’ in one of them books on your shelf. So you gotta drop the romance for a second and hear me out. This is all about power and control, and lack thereof. Sometimes the very thing you’re good and used to, the very thing that keeps you goin’, gets taken for granted. When that thing is suddenly taken
away
from you, you finds out quick enough exactly who you are without it. From what I can see, you don’t like the new you very much at all. Natasha was like a warm and cozy security blanket that you could wrap around yourself anytime you needed to. Now you can’t find your blankie and you’re in panic mode. It’s very common. Irregardless, you’re a menace to yourself and I doubt you’re doin’ her much good either. Are you bleedin’?

Irregardless.
Just fuckin’ gag me.

See how cold? My Christ, it’s a cold world we lives in. How do you respond to the likes of that? Really? What can you say? I’ve known him all my life. But I s’pose you can’t be too quick to lash out at people this day and age. The older you gets the
less chance you got of makin’ new friends. Especially me. I knows I exhausts people. If only ’cause I have a desire to see things my own way. When I’m strong and happy, people tends to distance themselves. But when shit goes south, they comes out in droves to patronize and condescend. No one wants to see you up and on your feet. The world wants you on your knees ’cause the world is cold.

Anyhow, talkin’ to Andy is like talkin’ to the goddamn stove.

—I knows. Andy, I knows. But you don’t know how it feels. Try walkin’ around with a knot in your stomach the size of your goddamn head…Look, I knows something is up. I knows that girl. Something’s not right. What am I expected to do? Call her up, all nice and calm, la-de-fuckin’-da, ask about her new little friends? No rackets, no bullshit? Well that’s not gonna happen. I’m after puttin’ too much into this to simply walk away or roll the fuck over. Anyhow, she won’t let me be calm. She’s too slick. She plucks and meddles in that sweet little voice ’til I snaps. Then she tries to tell me I’m pushin’ her away. But I’m not pushin’ her away.
She’s
pullin’ herself away. Pushin’
me
away. And you know why? Because she’s up there screwin’ some faggot! And I’ll get it out of her too. Supposing it’s five years down the road and she’s married to the star of the fuckin’ show, I’ll get it out of her. I don’t give a shit. I’ll get the truth—

I was barely underway before Andy mumbled some excuse to leave and did so in a hurry. Right. As long as he gets his five cents’ worth in. Why in the fuck do I even bother explaining myself? All my upheaval, all my pain, bouncin’ off his cold textbook point of view. I heard he’s gettin’ all Cs anyhow.

Pacin’ them floors again. Like the proper fool. Waitin’ for the phone to ring. Handsome fella like me. Imagine.

By daybreak I was after groovin’ a dirty path into the carpet. It was 8:00 in the morning before the phone started ringin’. I let the fucker ring. Ring, ring.

Then, watchin’ my arms reach out to the phone like I was lookin’ through the wrong end of a pair of binoculars. Answering a telephone in a little snot-box basement apartment, uptown St. John’s, mushroom season, on probation, and I would have been content to have died in the ditch playin’ G.I. Joe and
never known any other life.

Sayin’ hello.

To Natasha.

I tried to be calm.

I really did, but like I said, she wouldn’t let me.

—Where in the fuck were you all night? What? No, wait! Wait?…’Tash, I’m sorry. That’s not the way I wanted to start off. I just wanted to tell you that it’s okay. I’m okay. We’re fine, me and you. I knows you have to be there now and I realizes I’m only makin’ it harder on you. I s’pose I was panicked and feelin’ a bit insecure when you wouldn’t talk to me the right way. I feels a little out of control without you. But I won’t put you through that shit no more. It’d be nice though, if you wouldn’t tell me you’re gonna call when you have no intentions of doin’ so. You did, ’Tash. Yes you did. Jesus, I wish I had a tape recorder on you. I specifically recall you tellin’ me that you’d call me as soon as you got in last night. You promised me that you would, knowin’ full well I was sittin’ here, drove cracked. And you wonders why I’m thinkin’ something is up? I don’t know where you are or who you’re tangled up with. You could be gettin’ raped for all I
knows. Yes, raped. Natasha, I can’t take much more of this. One day you says you’re comin’ home next week and then you’re goin’ on about how much you loves it up there, off to some fuckin’ audition. Then it’s
Christ, Keith, I misses you so much. I’m bookin’ my ticket tomorrow. Of course we’re O.K. I don’t wanna be here any more than you wants me here.
And then you’re feelin’ all pressured and Mom says that Daddy’s comin’ out to town to straighten
me
out ’cause I’m tryin’ to control his little fuckin’ angel—

That bastard. He’ll get some fright if he knocks on my door. I’ll smack him with a hammer. Fuckin’ ignorant, hard-done-by, thick-skulled piss-head. The only man in the Cove who knows what a
real
day’s work tastes like. Sure the man stomped out of his bedroom one night in his fuckin’ drawers and grabbed me by the throat ’cause he thought he heard me sayin’ something nasty to her, his precious little girl. But I never said a word to her and we both knew it. Squeezin’ my neck, spittin’ and snortin’ down my throat ’til I started blackin’ out.

—You don’t know me, Kavanagh. No one talks to my little girl like that and lives to tell it. You don’t fuckin’ know me.

But then, that was exactly why it was happenin’. He knew that I knew something I shouldn’t have known. Anyhow, Natasha showed up in the nick of time and started screamin’, hangin’ off his arm and smackin’ at him. He drooled and spluttered, gave
her
a smack, his precious little girl, turned around and went back to bed. Left me slumped in the corner gaspin’ for breath. Sees me the next morning and asks me for a fuckin’ smoke. Like nothing happened. Psycho. Bring him on, girl. Like I said, I’ll crack that thick skull open with a hammer.

—If you’re seeing someone up there, ’Tash…Look, I needs to know the truth. I can’t take this. Let me have the
goddamn truth! I’d never treat you like this…No, I never!…I most certainly did not…Okay, but that was different…We’ve been through all this. Why do we need to go draggin’ all that shit up? What the fuck does
she
have to do with anything? I already told you what happened…NOTHING FUCKIN’ HAPPENED! Stop changin’ the cocksuckin’ subject…This is
nothing
like the last time you were gone. Nothing at all. The only reason you came home that time was ’cause of the you-know-what…I’ll say what I like. I went through it too. On the phone every night with you…Why, you plannin’ to have another one? ’Cause you can be fucked before I takes responsibility this time. Matter of fact, I’m not even so sure about the last one…Hello? ’Tash?…I’m sorry…That was mean…Look, I’m just so frustrated, girl. It’s like I’m losin’ it…No…No, I’m not drinkin’. Hardly at all…Are you screwin’ someone else? Promise me…I don’t believe you…No, I’m not callin’ you a whore, you’re the one said that, not me. I wasn’t thinkin’ anything like that. But when I looks back now you know, I seems to recall you promisin’ Bobby-fuckin’-O’Neill that you weren’t screwin’ around on
him
while I was right there in the bed alongside you. How do I even know where you’re callin’ me from? I can’t star-sixty-fuckin’-nine you from Halifax! Well let me talk to Gertie then. Gone out, is she? Well, how convenient. Sing out the top of your lungs then…Scream out how much you loves me. Why the fuck not? Afraid you’ll wake him up? Did you put him through a
hard
night of it? Put him on the goddamn phone. Let me talk to him…I knows full well there’s someone there with you, ’Tash, and I swear to Christ, I’ll jump on a fuckin’ plane this
very night and walk them fuckin’ streets ’til I…Hello? HELLO?

Now, what’s the goddamn point of all this anger management and this A.A. shit they wants me to be goin’ to?
Clarity of mind.
Did you hear that muddled up nonsense? She’s retarded. Was I crossin’ some boundary or something? Are you not allowed to be inquisitive from time to time?

Decided to take a little trip to the shop. Told myself I wouldn’t, but let the goddamn gulls go sober, see how their day woulda gone. I wasn’t facin’ this without
something
in my system. All the time in the world to punish myself. See, you gotta let yourself be weak every now and then to be able to measure how strong you’ll have to be when the time comes. I decided I was nothing short of a normal human being. I’d drink her away.

Made my way down to the gas station in a feverish panic for booze. Now, I’m the type who wants things right away. I don’t like scenes either. But when I got to the counter this scrawny little cross-eyed…individual…had the fuckin’ temerity to go askin’ me for identification. Me. I’m twenty years old for fuck sakes. But you know what it is? Some kind of power trip for him, that’s what. Take them army fuckers who gets barked at all day by superior officers. They comes home and barks at the whole house.

—Outta my way, dog.

Reducin’ their youngsters to tears if they can’t bounce a toonie on their beds.

—I thought I told you to put the garbage out last night? Drop and give me twenty!

Oh yeah, if they’re feelin’ inferior at work then they’re gonna bloody well be the boss behind closed doors. That’s exactly what was goin’ on with this little clerk. Pissed off ’cause he got bawled out for not stockin’ the shelves the right way or he rang something in twice or whatever the fuck. And he just has to exercise some kind of power over someone, some customer, in this case
me,
to make himself feel better. To empower himself. And didn’t he pick the wrong fella to fuck with.
Identification please.

—I-DENTI-FI-FUCKIN’-CATION? They won’t be able to identify you if I haves to go all the way home and come back again.

No. I never really got on like that. But I would have. If I hadn’t got what I wanted. ’Cause, by the fuck, when I wants something I wants it right away. I’m like that. Don’t like havin’ to cause a scene either.

So, take me and the cat and a dozen of our good friends from Black Horse, rollin’ smokes and havin’ a grand time. Without
her.

—Well Puss…Cheers! Here’s to catnip and the little brown bottle. No? Puss don’t want a toast? Well shag the puss cat then. Shag the puss cat. I’ll smoke it myself, will I? Yes, I will. Yes, I will. What’s that fuckin’ look for? Go in the goddamn room out of it then. You’re goin’ back on the dried stuff. No Name brand too! No more fuckin’ Sheba or Whiskas for you. Ingrate. Yes, you are.