Sourmouth (3 page)

Riley was well into the little booklet by the time he
responded, “I like the sound of the Retro Burger. I wonder what makes it retro
though. Is the cheese from the ‘50s or something?”

“No, I’m pretty sure that would make it a rotten burger.
Retro would be if it were made out of Brontosaurus meat, like in the
Flintstones. I guess though if you’ve got
Bronto
meat
that would have to be pretty old, too”.

“You remember that one movie that we worked on...the
dinosaurs in space one? When for some stupid reason we decided that it would be
a good idea just to drive halfway across the country to the shoot?” Riley asked
her.

Violet nodded, “I think we had scheduled the drive to
take six straight days. We had it meticulously planned out from the routes to
the stops to how long we could rest and sleep”.

“I’ve never admitted it...and I don’t know about you,
but it wasn’t the trip itself that was the most fun about it. I mean, I
obviously had the most fun just being with you. But aside from that the most fun
I had was just putting it all together. It was all of the planning that we did
beforehand. I remember all of the maps that we borrowed from the library that
were sprawled across the floors as we paced around the apartment trying to
figure it all out like we were solving an ancient puzzle to get to the
treasure. When all we got to was the set of a really bad movie”.

“I remember. I can’t say that the preparation was my
favourite
part. We were still really young in our
relationship back then. I think we were only dating for a few months. And I
recall thinking ‘Wow, this guy is getting obsessive about absolutely nothing’.
And at the same time that I was thinking that you might be a bit too much for
me to handle, I was just lost in how happy you were about all of that too. I
looked at your face and I could see the child in you. Even before you even told
me, I could guess just from how pleased you were that road trips weren’t
something you ever did as a child”. 

“So it was a pity road trip?” he asked, slightly hurt. 

“Don’t be silly. I wanted to go on the trip itself
with you. I really did. I just wasn’t into the painstaking scheduling. I
promise that I don’t regret it at all, even after you got sick”.

“You make it sound like I just came down with the
measles or smallpox. I was fucking poisoned. They were trying to kill me”.

Violet laughed, “It was your own fault! I told you
ahead of time that you were insane for wanting to eat a waffle at every single
restaurant stop on the way. To this day I still say that it was incredibly
stupid. And I think that history proves my point”.

He shook his head with a smile, “I didn’t think the
idea itself was stupid. How can waffles ever be stupid? Though in retrospect I will
admit that
me
asking that one greasy spoon to make
waffles when it wasn’t even on the menu was a really stupid decision. I
basically had to pay a bribe for them to even try to cook it from scratch and
then I got food poisoning for my efforts”.

“You vomited out of the window for like two miles
afterwards. The drivers behind us could have followed your trail. And just when
I thought you had nothing left in your stomach to throw up you insisted that we
still stop at the next restaurant and get more waffles. We had to repeat the
whole ordeal for another half a mile afterwards”.

“You jest...but I did it, didn’t I? I got a waffle and
nothing but a waffle at every restaurant on the whole six day trip”.

“You say that like it’s something to be proud of. Ask
anyone and they’ll tell you that I should have left you at a restroom as soon
as you started to projectile vomit like you were possessed”.

“I’m sure that you could ask anyone and they’d be
nothing but impressed. I’m pretty sure I’m in the world book of records if you
search hard enough”.

The
Tylers
chuckled at their
reminiscing as they diverted their attentions back to the menus in front of
them.

“All joking aside, do we have a plan?” Violet said as
she watched her husband’s eyes flick around the pages in front of him.

His mouth made a little rolling motion in on itself as
he thought, “Maybe I’ll go the safe route and just get the poutine. I’m sure
that the Canadians couldn’t possibly mess up their national dish, right?”

“Really, I hope that you know what we’re doing more
than I do right now because I’m rather lost”.

“I do know what I’m doing. I’m going to be avoiding
the waffles. After our trip down memory lane I’m having war flashbacks just
thinking about them”.

“Riley!” Violet chided, “I’m serious. I’m not in the
mood to sleep in the damn car for the rest of the week. What should we do?”

He shrugged, “And I’m supposed to know what to do any
more than you do? I didn’t plan on any of this happening. The reservation was
made specifically so we didn’t have to worry about something like this. So why
are you hounding me about it?”

Violet pushed her body back against the plush of the
booth in slight offence, “Hounding? I’m just hoping that you’ve got more input
than what we should have for lunch. I can’t be the only one worrying about what
we’re going to be doing for this vacation of yours”.

“Vacation of mine?” Riley asked with his eyebrows
readying to launch from his forehead, “If I could kindly remind you that it was
your idea that we try to get away from everything and quote and unquote...fix
us”.

“Yes, it was my idea that we take some time to
ourselves. But it was your idea to vanish into the wilderness so that we could
become one with nature”.

He shook his head and finally put down his menu,
“Don’t make me sound like a bloody hippie. I wanted to get away from all of the
stress of the city like the never ending Twitter posts and then Facebook tags
and our shitty paying jobs. I never said that I wanted to become one with the
Earth and Mother Gaia. You can blame me for this if you really want to, but
please at least stick to the truth for once.”

“It’s your shitty job, I’m fine with mine. And what do
you mean for once?” she asked.

Riley’s eyebrows somehow rose even higher than before,
“Um, I don’t know. How about you going out with your trashy girlfriends and
flirting your way through half of the city? And then the thing with...that
guy...”

It was the phrase “that guy” that went a bit too far
for Violet to take. She went from being slightly annoyed to being visibly
upset, “How dare you bring that fucking shit up now. I’ve made my apologies for
it and I’ve explained myself. I told you everything! And most importantly
nothing actually happened. It’s not fucking fair for you to keep throwing that
shit into my face every time you need to make a point. When will it become a
moot issue? When we’re in our fifties and you’re upset that you can’t find your
slipper, will you bring up that time twenty years ago when I made out with
someone else? If the law has time limits for convictions, I’m pretty sure that
it’s a
misdemeanour
for something as trivial as
that”.

“You didn’t just make out with someone. You fully
intended to fuck him. And I stress intended. Because if it wasn’t for your last
minute burst of guilt you’d have come home to give me sloppy seconds. You make
it sound like that was some small infraction. That he was just some guy. If it
was just the kiss at the bar and you walked away from him without it going any
further I could have understood that as a drunken mistake. I might not have
liked it but I would’ve gotten over it quick enough. But wanting to go back to
his place to have sex with him? For you to just leave the bar with some random
walking erection like you were a sorority chick with her panties already half
way down her legs? I’m sorry if I can’t just get over that like you seem to be
so eager to”.

“You always seem to miss the most crucial part of this
story, which is the fact that I didn’t actually have sex with him. That walking
erection as you like to call him went home alone like most of the other pigs
from the bar. I haven’t had sex with anyone but you in the four years that
we’ve been married. At the time of ‘that guy’ I’ll remind you that you were
behaving like a slob. You had quit your job without us properly discussing it
and began teaching art to burnout teenagers or the kids of rich parents hoping
to groom the next Picasso. And you barely acted like you even gave a shit about
me. I was the roommate that you occasionally got to bone. And yes, part of me
needed something more than you were offering. I wasn’t content with being your
friend who you happened to be married to. Part of me wasn’t ready to become an
old woman yet and spend her time at home knitting while you drew silly pictures
and took up random hobbies. But when I got in that cab with ‘that guy’ and
realized that it wasn’t you that I was running off with
I
panicked. I might not have been happy with you at the time...but there was
never anyone for me but you. Even if you have stupid hobbies and a stupid job
and you have a stupid face. If you have yet to realize it, you’re the only
stupid ‘that guy’ that matters to me”.

And almost as soon as it began their fight was over.
It was an argument they had many times before and most likely would have again
in the future, but it was important for both of them to occasionally vocalize
their problems and to work out their frustrations. Their problems were a
by-product of a marriage where their courtship took about as long as it took
for the ink to dry on their wedding certificate. The fact was that as much as
they were in love they hadn’t yet discovered each other’s faults or more
essentially learned how to deal with them before they were faced with the
tribulations of marriage. And while though they were often at each other’s
throats and could sometimes barely seem to care, they still loved one another
tremendously and neither wanted to give up on the notion that they could be
saved.  

It was the waitress that finally broke up their
silence, “If you two children are done making the other customers feel
uncomfortable can I get you anything to eat?”

Violet smirked at Helen’s forwardness, “I think we’ll
have the Retro Burger and a poutine. And we’ll just split them between us”.

The waitress winked at them with her smoke stained
teeth flashing happily, “Will do”.

But as she turned away the waitress decided to do a
full 360 on the balls of her feet to turn back to the couple, a surprising move
for a woman her age, “Not to pry into your business too much, but I overheard
that you were looking for a place to stay?”

“Our hotel lost our reservation. And apparently there
isn’t anywhere else on the island that would be free or so we’re told. I
suppose we’ll have to go get something in the city and just travel back and
forth between there and here. It’s not ideal, because it kind of defeats the
point of coming somewhere isolated and idyllic, but we don’t have much choice,”
Riley explained.

“Actually, that’s not a choice at all. I wouldn’t
survive that ferry ride twice a day for the whole week. We would have to just
cancel Bowen Island completely and stay over there,” Violet said in response,
throwing yet another wrench in their plans.

“I suppose. Though that means you’d have to put up with
me creating a whole new itinerary. I might need to find some maps and floor
space all over again which I’m sure you couldn’t physically stomach all over
again”.

Helen pointed across the diner to a small booth in the
opposite corner of the one she had sat in, where an old native woman about the
same age as the waitress sat cradling a large cup of steaming coffee.

From the distance they could tell that the woman was
frail and weathered in her late sixties or early seventies, wearing an old
beige dress that must have been made when she was around the
Tylers
’ ages. On her neck sat many intricate gold necklaces
that hung down across her clavicle and seemed to cling together when she moved.

Helen retracted her finger in fear of being ruder than
she already was being by pointing across the restaurant, “That’s
Poyam
. She doesn’t actually live here, but she does have a
place here that is almost as old as the island itself. Lately she has been
telling anyone who would listen about that old family house that she owns that
she’s got no idea what to do with. She has been trying to sell it off but no
one here wants that piece of trash. There is no guarantee she will let you use
it if you try to cut some sort of deal, but perhaps she can help you out if you
ask nicely and drive the right bargain. Just a thought”.

Violet looked at her husband who was staring at the
fork he had picked up at some point for no reason other than for something to
play with, “I’m game if you are. Worst thing she could do is tell us to go to
hell, right?”

He nodded, “I suppose. You better lead the way though,
I’m sure that my intimidating
demeanour
might scare
her into having a heart attack”.

“I’ve got a more intimidating
demeanour
than you do. But I’ll make the introduction just the same”.

Both of the
Tylers
got up
from their seats and headed over to the corner of the room with nervous
shuffling. Even by the time they found themselves standing over the old woman
they had yet to formulate any sort of game plan. They weren’t sure if it was
their intention to just ask to stay there or if they were to make an offer to
buy it? It’s not like it would cost much if they did by the sounds of it.