The Fall of Chance (14 page)

“New meat, Pearson?” growled the landlord. His nose might have been set in a sneer or it might just have been badly set after a break.

“A new patron, Boomer,” said Pearson, sidling up to the bar, “and sure to be a good one, if you can treat him a little nicer.”

The man called Boomer scowled. “All are welcome here,” he said. “So what’s it to be?”

“Two ales please, Boomer,” said Pearson.

“Coming up,” said the landlord and began to draw two tankards of frothing ale. “On the tab is it?” he asked as his strong arm worked the pump.

“As ever,” smiled Pearson.

“As ever,” grumbled Boomer.

When he’d done and they both had a tankard, Pearson led Unt to an empty booth. The patrons seemed to have assessed Unt, dismissed him and gone back to their important solitary work.

“We’re not ordering food yet?” asked Unt, concerned.

“Second visit to the bar.” Pearson waved a dismissive hand.

He drank deep from the tankard and Unt swallowed as much as he dared. The taste and texture were both pleasant and unpleasant at once.

Pearson smacked his lips dramatically. “Ah, that’s better. You were asking about my marriage?”

Unt was taken aback. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried”, he said.

“Don’t worry, ask away. I’m here to show you the ropes in whatever way I can.”

Unt was unsure. “All right,” he said at last, “I was wondering whether you felt guilty for your wife when you were talking like you were before.”

“Why should I?” said Pearson, “It’s only natural. I’ve been married for almost as long as you’ve been alive and the mind does wander.”

He thought for a moment. “Unt, I know this is hard for you to understand. With that pretty little wife you’ve picked up you think you’ll never be tempted to stray but mark my words: the time will come when you want to try the sugar from another pot.

“In a few years’ time, the sublime will have become normal and all that’s left for the rest of your life is the stuff you could have had. So yeah, a bit of wanderlust sets in. You see a few shiny fires, glistening all over, and you want to play with them. It’s fine to touch from time to time, so long as you don’t play too long or too often and end up getting burnt.”

Unt was doubtful but didn’t want to put a divide up between them. “Have you been burnt, then?” he ventured.

“Nah,” said Pearson. “My golden rule is, I never take anything home to my wife and kids. That way, no-one’s ever the wiser and no-one gets hurt.”

Unt was even more surprised at the mention of kids but held his tongue.

With a final gulp, Pearson finished off his pint. “So, do you think Orla might take your fancy?”

“I don’t think I need that right now.”

“Maybe,” said Pearson, “But one day you’ll want to and then it helps to be a Councillor. Women, Unt, are drawn to power like flies on shit and whether or not we admit it, we Councillors have power. Another one?”

It took Unt a second to realise Pearson was talking about drinks. He was barely halfway though his current one but Pearson took his second’s pause as agreement and was already on his way to the bar.

That drink turned out to be the second of many. The pub filled with the lunchtime crowd, then emptied again but somehow, Unt and Pearson never got around to ordering food. Instead, they had drink after drink as they chatted through the afternoon.

Pearson did most of the talking. Sometimes he talked about work, sometimes he brought up Lasper, but mostly he talked about women. Unt just listened and got steadily more drunk. When they rose to leave after more than three hours, Unt was feeling very unsteady.

6. Union

Unt’s first working week passed and the pending wedding loomed large. Thankfully, on that first day, when Unt and Pearson had rolled back in, Brooker hadn’t been harsh on them. He hadn’t made a fuss: he’d been merciful.

Without alluding to Unt’s obvious drunkenness, Brooker had suggested that perhaps he’d learnt enough for one day. He rolled his dice and whatever the result, declared it was enough to send him home. Brooker had Pearson drop him at his doorstep and when he turned up at work the next day, no mention was made of it.

Pearson didn’t get off so lightly. He’d had to see out the rest of the day in the office with a growing headache. It didn’t stop him from taking Unt to the Pickled Bear every lunch time but from then on in it was just one drink and the Bear’s questionable food to go with it.

The work itself was varied and interesting and well within Unt’s abilities. Pearson was gradually showing him the ropes and Unt was taking on his duties by inches. Brooker was a kind man to work under and Unt was enjoying himself. The hours were longer than what he’d been used to and he went home tired and content.

He didn’t really have much time or energy to devote to thinking about the wedding but it was coming and the first reminder was a letter that he found on the mat one day when he came in from work. It was confirmation of the time and location of the ceremony, who he would be marrying and where they would be living.

That gave him cause to consider the house and its furnishings. It was a blend of what his parents had left him and the growing mark that a developing boy had made on it. There was nothing feminine about the place and nothing stylish either. It was clean but not polished, like himself.

He wondered whether a girl like Crystal would be happy moving in. She’d want to make changes, that was for sure, but if he couldn’t know what they would be, was there any point trying to change things in advance?

He decided not. In the end, he thought that aside from giving the spot a fresh clean, he was best off letting things happen as they would. He was happy to admit to himself that a big part of his reasoning was that after work, he just couldn’t be bothered.

His life had become such a cycle of work and sleep that he hadn’t seen Bulton once since Orientation. It was a pleasant surprise then when, on the rest-day before the ceremony, his old friend turned up on his doorstep, bottle of spirits in hand.

“Hey buddy, how you doing?” said Bull, letting himself in.

“Not bad,” said Unt, going back to his couch and leaving Bull to do what he would.

“No fruit?” asked Bull, hovering near an empty bowl.

“Haven’t had time to go get anything,” said Unt.

“Tell me about it,” said Bulton. “I’ve been thrown into night-shifts. All I want to do during the day is sleep.”

“That’s all you ever want to do,” said Unt.

Bull smiled slyly, “Not at all,” he said. “I’ve put in time to get to know Min. I’m looking forward to this wedding.”

“You’re looking forward to after the wedding,” Unt corrected.

“There’s a difference?” said Bull, now opening cupboard doors in a vain quest for food. “How about you? Have you seen much of Crystal?”

“No,” said Unt.

“Seriously?” Bull was surprised. “Well, I suppose she’s probably busy too. We Medics work long hours.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Unt answered to find a woman standing there with a folded cloth package. A man stood behind her with a handcart filled with similar bundles.

“Unt?” she asked, reading from a label on the bundle.

“Yes?”

“Your suit,” she said and handed him the package.

He’d been expecting this. It was a communal wedding and everyone involved would be wearing the same clothes. Boys wore suits, the girls wore dresses but the organising committee kept both under wraps until the last minute. Some people thought the mystery added a magical element. Unt just found the delay inconvenient.

“Is there one there for Bulton?” Bull shouted over,

“It’s already been left at your family home,” said the woman, who didn’t seem to find anything magical about it either. She bid them good day and left.

Unt closed the door but Bull was already there, “I’d best get back and get suited up then,” he said.

“It’s not till tomorrow,” Unt protested.

“Yeah but it might need taken in or something,” said Bull.

Unt was astonished. Could a change come over someone so quickly? A fortnight ago, Bull would have dressed at the last minute or dressed straight away and then slobbed around in his suit. Min was some girl if she’d brought about a transformation this soon.

A minute later, Bull was gone and Unt was left alone. He sat down on the couch facing the walnut clock, opened the package and laid out his suit. It was charcoal grey with a wine-red shirt, heavy like a thundercloud in the morning. Unt could only guess at the material but it looked as fine as the community could make. It was better than anything Unt had made during his spell at the clothes mill, that was for sure.

The charcoal material had a metallic quality, like gunmetal, while the shirt had the silky lustre of full-ripened fruit. Someone had lavished a lot of attention on this but to Unt it was wasted effort. He supposed there were other people who enjoyed this kind of thing and that interest would have fed into the dice rolls that determined the cut, material and colours that had finally been selected.

Well, let them have it, he thought. So long as it fit, he was happy. The important thing was the girl he was going to marry. He noticed Bull had left the bottle of spirits. With nothing better to do, he thought he might as well sit back and enjoy it.

It was funny how he hadn’t thought about Crystal half as much as he’d thought he would or half as much as he used to. She was gorgeous, she was his and yet, she hadn’t distracted him from his job or even been predominant in the hours when he wasn’t working.

He was excited, no mistake, but his excitement was stored in blocks of hours and half-hours: time when he’d sit in this place and imagine their futures together. He pictured phantom children. Sometimes there were two or three but rarely were there more. Their genders varied from moment to moment. Whatever hobbies and professions he imagined for these prospective Untlings, always behind them was the calm, stable pairing of himself and Crystal.

He was growing more and more sure that she would come around. It was too much to expect her to throw off Rob instantly - he’d be worried if she was capable of that - but he and Crystal were equals in intellect and both were good people. On that foundation, affection would surely follow.

And it wasn’t just the relationship that was at the forefront of his thinking. Just as much, his mind pulled to the physical side of things. Lips, eyes, skin, hair: his focus would race erratically between each detail, an enthralling banquet of features.

His imaginings of their future were pure fantasy but these agents of enticement, they would soon be his and in the very near future too. It wasn’t a vague and hopeful promise or even a certain thing working to an uncertain timetable. It would happen tomorrow.

The wedding was communal to make one thing clear: a marriage was for the good of all. Marriage benefited society and the main way it did that was by adding to its numbers. As far as the town was concerned, each couple was a factory for making children and if a factory was ready, why wait to start production? Every marriage would be consummated this evening, Unt and Crystal included.

Unt was a virgin. They were all supposed to be but he knew at least a quarter of the year were experienced. People might tell you not to do it but obeying a rule requires reasoning while obeying an urge is animal. Among a hundred and seventeen adolescents, animal instinct had to win out somewhere.

The ones with experience might not be able to say it but they told you so in dozens of other little ways. They’d passed the final barrier into adulthood and their attitude to you changed, as though having done the deed somehow made you older and wiser.

Unt wondered if Crystal was the same as him. She and Rob had been an item for a long time but had they done it? Maybe they’d been saving themselves, confident that they’d end up together. Maybe they’d changed their plans on one of the nights since the Fall.

Or maybe they’d only gone so far. He could probably cope with that. They didn’t seem to carry themselves in that cocky way Unt had seen other kids use but then again, they’d always assumed an orbit so far above the others that maybe they didn’t feel the need.

Unt didn’t know but he did worry. He worried that he wouldn’t be able to perform or if he could, that he wouldn’t be able to live up to Rob. If a bar had been set, how did he know how high it was? He dreaded going to bed with Crystal and her realising that she was doomed to disappointment.

The only person Unt knew with experience whom he could talk to was Pearson. Pearson was more than ready to share any tips he could with Unt and he lavished techniques and anecdotes on him like a sexual philanthropist. Unt squirmed at the details of some of these stories and was left bewildered by the moves he heard described.

He often wondered if Pearson was pulling his chain: some of the things didn’t seem possible or even pleasant. In the end, Unt had accumulated a treasury of information but not a shred of confidence he could apply any of it.

“Look,” Pearson had said at their last lunch at the Bear, “the best way to learn is by doing. Why don’t we go over to the Clerks this afternoon and get you a sparring partner? Orla’s taken a shine to you or, if you’re after a real lesson, there’s always Necta. That girl will chew you up, spit you out and leave you reborn as a master of love-making. And if neither of them take your fancy, there’s sure to be a few fresh girls who’ll be impressed by a Councillor-in-waiting.”

Pearson had been insistent but his boasts were so extravagant they were easy to resist. He could easily believe that Pearson could walk in, snap his fingers and somehow get a woman but if he thought of doing the same himself, it just seemed ridiculous.

The voice of his conscience would not be ignored either. He might not be married yet but to go along with Pearson was a kind of pre-emptive infidelity. It might mean he’d go to Crystal with the confidence of experience but he’d be forever tainted by the touch of another woman. Crystal might have been with Rob - and probably had been - but he couldn’t act on the assumption that she wasn’t just the same as him.

He spent the night sat there, mulling it over across the evening. Was everyone else having this same struggle between anticipation and doubt? It seemed to Unt they had to be - most people, at least. The ceremony would be followed by a great party but how could you have a party where the key people were consumed with thoughts of what was coming after?

*              *              *              *

Before Unt went to bed, he wanted to make the house presentable but he was preoccupied with worry and couldn’t get motivated. When he did get moving, he carried his doubts around like an anchor and everything he did seemed to take forever. He went to bed late and when he woke in the morning, he’d slept in.

Sometimes people wake and without seeing a clock, they already know they’re late. This was one of those times. Unt went out of his bedroom and looked at the walnut clock. The long wooden wand of the middle hand had just made its heavy action and was pointing severely up to mark the hour. It was ten o’clock. That meant he had ninety minutes to get ready and get to his wedding.

Unt leapt into action. He’d meant to try out the suit but he’d have to put it on untested. Hopefully, he’d have time to iron it before it had to go on. If not, it had been carefully folded and the creasing didn’t look too bad.

He quickly drew a bath. For once, there was hot water in the communal tank but fetching and carrying it was taking too long. The water was only four inches deep but he decided that he’d have to make do. The water was warm enough as he splashed it on his skin but it cooled almost instantly and he shivered his way through.

He got out and used a damp, day-old towel to dab himself dry. There were fresh ones but he was saving them to make an impression on Crystal. As he struggled to dry himself he realised he hadn’t shaved. He cursed at having broken his golden rule, abandoned drying and set to it in tepid water. Sure enough, in his hurry, he got a few nicks and the last one went properly deep. Blood poured down his wet skin, diluted orange and dripped onto the floor.

He swore again but there was no time to try and stem the flow. He’d have to let it run its course and clean up as best he could after. So, he moved on to his hair. It styled well enough but a stubborn tuft at the crown refused to sit down. He tried soap to coax it down but in the end, he drowned it with water.

He dabbed at himself with the towel some more as he went to the bedroom to get fresh underwear. A big mirror above the chest of drawers was eye-level and he automatically leaned in to inspect his face.

Unt didn’t suffer acne as bad as a lot of boys but there were two spots right there with white beads on them. He popped them then used his wet thumb to wipe away the bits that spattered the glass. Now there were more spots of blood on his face but he’d clear them up with the shaving cuts later.