... if you're Arnold Schwarzenegger! And it's amazing what I can do with Photoshop these days. It's a pity working out at the gym wasn't this quick and easy!
Showing posts with label Short Story of Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Short Story of Fiction. Show all posts
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Thursday, October 12, 2006
A Quiet Night in March
[A Story of Fiction]
7:16pm on a Monday in March
Nick didn’t feel like seeing or speaking to anyone as he leaned against his black leather sofa and turned on his flat-screen television with the remote. Wearing just boxer shorts and a t-shirt, he was ready for bed after a stressful day at work.
He and Aleesa had had problems of late and this had culminated in a ridiculous argument the day before. Nick was now abundantly aware how he should be stacking the dishwasher.
He flicked through the channels and ate the pizza he had picked up on the way home. Half ham and pineapple, half pepperoni and mushroom.
He had just settled on a re-run of Friends when the phone rang. Nick let it ring. The answering machine kicked in, and when it beeped, inviting a message, the caller had already hung up. Oh well, couldn’t have been important then.
The phone rang again. Nick turned and looked at it. Why did people only call when he wanted a quiet night alone. He let the answering machine take the call. Again, no message.
"Hmm." Nick rubbed his chin and felt the stubble emerging. He turned back to the television and bit into another slice of pizza.
The phone rang again. This had to be Aleesa calling. No-one else he knew would try calling him three times in a row and not leave a message.
Nick felt a bit guilty, but damn it, a man needed his peace. She lived a half-hour drive away, so he could just stay in the safety of his home.
Suddenly his mobile phone rang. He picked up his phone from the kitchen counter and looked at the screen. "Aleesa Home." Just as he’d suspected. Aleesa was making the calls, and now she was trying him on his mobile to see where he was. Should I answer it? He dithered with grumpy indecision until the call was answered by his voicemail.
He was still holding the phone in his hand when it rang again. "Aleesa Home." His hand shook a little with nervous anticipation. Why did she keep ringing? Stubbornness prevented him from answering. He could just call her in the morning and make up a story about where he had been. His voicemail took the call again.
He kept looking down at the mobile phone display and scratched his head with anxious anticipation. It wasn’t the first time Nick had been bombarded with calls. He kept looking at the phone but it didn’t ring. Perhaps she had decided to wait until tomorrow. Making a conscious effort to calm himself, Nick put the phone back on the counter and walked back to Friends and his cooling pizza.
As he sat back down the mobile phone rang again. Mesmerised by its ringing he walked over to it. This time the display read "Aleesa Mobile."
"Shit!" Nick grumbled. "She’s coming over!" His heart was racing, and his hands shook. He took a couple of deep breaths and thought of his options: Leave the house… or…err… stop contemplating and just leave the house!
He ran into the bedroom and grabbed his favourite jeans and a tracksuit top from his closet. He was pulling on his jeans as he dialled his friend Jamie’s number.
"Hello." Came the voice at the other end.
"Jamie, it’s Nick."
"G’day mate! Har y’u goin’?" Jamie had the most Australian accent of all Nick’s friends. His was a childhood growing up on a farm.
"Good, what you doing tonight?" Nick could hear his voice racing down the line, as he .
"Nothin’."
"Can I come over?"
"Err… Sure. When do you think you’ll be ‘round?"
"Oh, in about 15 minutes."
"Okay. What’s up?"
"I’ll explain when I get there!"
Nick hung up the phone before Jamie had a could speak. Less than two minutes later Nick was trotting down the stairs to his car, cramming a piece of pepperoni pizza in his mouth.
"Oh shit!" He remembered he hadn’t filled the car with petrol. He’d been driving for three days with the fuel warning light on. "Shit!" He started up the car. The fuel gauge didn’t move. Nick always tried to get as much out of every tank without running out. Jamie lived 10-15 minutes away, and Nick knew he couldn’t get there and back on the remaining fumes.
He drove to the service station two blocks away, and pulled up to the pump furthest from the road. If Aleesa was coming to his place she would drive past here, so he had to hurry.
Nick’s heart pounded a violent rhythm. He kept one eye on the road, one on the pump. Like a criminal on the run, he crouched a little behind his car, so as not to be visible from the road, while appearing casual and avoiding suspicion from the attendant. Then the stupidity of the situation hit him - he was being chased out of his own home by his girlfriend!
Just as he straightened up, laughing at his ridiculous predicament, he saw a flash of yellow speeding down the street and his stomach lurched. Aleesa’s Hyundai.
He sucked in the chilled air.
"Jesus Christ!" He slunk lower as Aleesa shot past, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
He exhaled. Without thinking, he pulled the pump out of the car, petrol still flowing. He sprayed unleaded on the side of his car before his hand caught up with his racing brain.
Nick ran in, paid for the gas and was back in his car in seconds. What if he saw he wasn't around and drove back home? She might see him on the way to Jamie’s.
He pulled into a dark side street and waited anxiously. He listened to his heart thud thud in the dark. No yellow car shot by. She must be waiting at his place.
Nick shook his head. What the fuck’s wrong with her? He could feel his cheeks warm with anger. It’s a bloody Monday night! Normal people are tired on Monday nights! How did I get myself into this? What am I doing?
He opened the window and breathed in the fresh cool air. It was unseasonally cool for April in Adelaide, but that suited Nick -he wasn’t much of a "beach bum". Hesitantly he started his journey Jamie’s place, deciding side roads would be the safest route. When his mobile rang it cut the silence with a digital shrillness. Keep it together, man. Looking down he saw "Jamie Home" flash on his phone and he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Jamie, what’s up?"
"I thought you could bring over those sweet-tipped cigars and we could have a smoke."
"Sorry I can’t. I’ve already left."
"Can’t you go back and get ‘em?"
"No. I’ll explain when I get there."
"Oh- "
"I’ll see you in ten minutes." He cut him off.
Nick drove down the road and took a left when he reached a T-junction. Then a right, the road curved right, left onto a road with speed bumps, another right. Nick rolled his car to a stop sign and looked left and right. Which way now? Craning his neck, he read, "Jeffrey and... McKenzie streets," out loud, hoping it would trigger a grid position in his mind. It didn’t, but his street directory indicated he was lost deep in suburbia. "Should've gone right there, not left!" he nodded as his finger traced his route.
Suddenly there was a honking horn and headlights flashing high beam behind him. He jumped with surprise. "Fuck! Aleesa!" He squinted as he peered into his rear-view mirror, examining the shape of the headlights. It wasn’t a Hyundai. He exhaled, relieved.
Nick’s foot stabbed at the accelerator and the car lurched forward. He decided to risk the major roads, knowing he had a high chance of seeing Aleesa if she was driving back home. Furtively glancing right, then left, then right again, he swung out into the road, wincing at the bright streetlights. He had to contain himself from speeding to Jamie’s apartment.
"What took you so long?" Jamie opened the door still wearing his crisp white work shirt and navy suit pants.
"I got lost in the back streets getting here. C’mon let’s go."
"Where?" Jamie was carrying a basket of freshly washed, but not dried, laundry.
"To the beach."
"Err." Jamie looked at his wet clothes. "Can I hang these up first?"
"No. We’ve got to get out of here."
"What the…?"
"We’ll take my car, so if Aleesa comes by here you’re not implicated."
Jamie threw his arms in the air and looked at his oldest friend incredulously.
"Just get in the car."
Nick swiftly headed for the car with Jamie following, head shaking. "He’s lost his fuckin’ mind!"
Taking off with a jump of the clutch and a squeal of rubber, Nick manoeuvered side streets to the beachside neighbourhood in Adelaide.
"Where’d y’ wanna go?" Jamie asked as they paced towards a café on Jetty Road.
"How about The Chocolate Box?" His stomach growled at the thought of a sugary treat.
"Sounds good. What’s goin’ on? I think you owe me, as I’ll probably have mouldy washing."
"I don’t know…" Nick glanced around as they walked into the warm smell of espresso. No Aleesa.
"Whaddya mean ‘I don’t know’? You chased me out of my home on a Monday night. This had better be good."
"Aleesa was calling me and I didn’t want to speak to her or see her so I left the house in a hurry. I thought that if I went to my parents or grandad’s she’d find me there, and I didn’t want to sleep in the car all night so I called you first."
"Oh God! Aleesa! When are you goin’ to dump that bitch?"
"I can’t."
"Whaddya mean ‘I can’t’? Just tell her ‘you’re dumped’ and it’s over."
"It’s not that easy." Nick was shifting his weight from side to side anxiously.
They ordered their coffees and slices of rich triple chocolate gateaux and found seats outside on the patio, Nick’s eyes darting about to see if he had been followed.
"Nick, what’s with the shifty eyes?"
"I can’t see her. I don’t know. It’s so stressful with her. We argue all the time. She’s storming out on me and threatening me, and whenever I get upset she turns on the waterworks and I’m powerless."
Jamie pursed his lips together.
"I’ve run out of patience with her." Nick looked again over his shoulder and saw a couple holding hands.
"So dump her."
"I know." Nick’s head dropped as he absently spooned at the froth topping his coffee. "I can’t. I don’t know. I just don’t have the energy."
"Energy to say ‘you’re gone’?!" Jamie pursed his lips again and glared at his best friend.
"Yeah yeah. I know I have to. I’m just worried what will happen when we do break up. She’ll go berserk." Again Nick took a nervous look around.
"What could she do?" Jamie sipped his coffee.
"She could throw stones at my windows, smash up my car…" Nick’s voice trailed away.
"Do you really think she’d do that?" Jamie had seen some weird stuff from Aleesa, but his voice indicated he thought Nick was going too far now.
"I wouldn’t put it past her." Nick sipped his own coffee. "She’s thrown stuff at me before."
"What stuff?"
"Hard stuff. Stuff that would hurt if she could aim straight. She grabs the first thing she sees. She’s even thrown her dildo at me!"
Jamie’s eyes rolled at the thought of a 9-inch rubber penis flying towards his friend and recalled another throwing incident. He paused and lowered the tone of his voice, "As a friend I need to tell you something."
"Okay." Nick nodded.
"You know the guys don’t won’t see you anymore if she’s with you. You’re great fun, but the way she carries on, it just ruins it for everyone. That’s why we haven’t invited you to come with us for Easter."
"Really?" Nick was suddenly conscious of spending less time with his mates.
"That time we were all out for Robbo’s birthday-" Jamie’s blue eyes pierced Nick’s.
Nick nodded, knowing where the story was headed.
"And she threw wine on you. That was fucked! It ruined the night for all of us. She was gettin’ all insecure and even though you wore the wine, we felt it too. Sometimes she’s great, but she carries on like an idiot far too often. We just wanna have a good time."
Nick nodded again and rubbed his face with both hands.
"You’re just not the same anymore. You’re on edge right now!" Jamie shook his head with disappointment. "Aleesa’s taken the old Nick away. You always had so much energy. You look exhausted."
"I feel exhausted."
"You have to break up with her."
"I know. I will. Just give me time."
"How much time? We’re talking about friendships here... your own health and sanity. We’ve had this conversation before."
"Yeah I know." Nick slouched in his chair.
Nothing was said for a minute as they both digested some cake and coffee.
"Doesn’t she have a key to your place?"
"No." Nick smiled finally. "I took it back two weeks ago. I was sick of her arriving unannounced at ten at night."
"And she didn’t make copies?"
"I’ll know when I get home." Nick imagined his walls being spray-painted, the red paint dribbling down like blood in a B-grade horror film.
"Let’s go ‘n’ play some pinball!"
Nick looked at his watch. It was already almost nine. So much for a quiet night at home. "Okay." Anything to take his mind off Aleesa.
Lou's Video Parlour was almost empty. Two teenage kids were playing a shoot-'em-up game and a couple was on the racing cars. Even the 80s music was playing quietly.
They slapped the little stainless steel balls around their bright neon cage, Nick thinking how much he felt like one of them, bouncing off the walls. After a couple of hours, Jamie was killing him so they took a break and had another caffeine hit. It was almost midnight when they were walking back to the car.
As they pulled into Jamie’s driveway, Nick broke the silence, "It’s late. Aleesa has to be home in bed by now. It is Monday after all." Nick heard the relief in his own voice.
"Yeah, you’re right." Jamie sounded positive.
"Thanks for coming out with me tonight at such short notice."
"No worries mate. Anythin’ for a friend." Jamie jumped out of the car and headed towards his front door.
Driving home, Nick felt exhaustion drag him down. He thought for the first time about how his tiredness affected him physically. He felt his shoulders rounded and slumped, his eyes strained and his head bowed. He remembered his half-eaten pizza at home and the quiet evening that had slipped through his fingers. Nick sighed as he turned the corner.
He almost sensed the yellow flash before he saw it. Suddenly a car turned off the main road and onto the street Nick was on. Aleesa!
Nick crouched over the wheel and increased his speed. He turned left onto the main road and accelerated wildly. He could feel reason leaving him as he glanced repeatedly into the rear-view mirror. He felt like he was being chased by a serial killer in a movie. No. No. No! Yes. Aleesa had seen him and was now in pursuit. The imagined killer was sharpening his rusty hook. His stomach clenched and his balls tightened. She was at least 300 metres behind but was closing quickly. Nick estimated she must have been driving over 100km/h. Her car was lurching rapidly towards him as if it were possessed.
Suddenly he realised he would need to explain why he had ignored her calls. His mobile was on the passenger seat. One hand on the wheel, he switched it off and buried it in the back of the glove box. His second wind had blown in with a fury and he was suddenly wide awake. He was careening through the streets dangerously, but she was still gaining.
He realised the futility of a car chase and slowed down. She came up alongside him, her brakes squealing as she slowed to his speed.
Nick looked over to see a very distressed-looking Aleesa screaming and gesticulating at him through the window. He didn’t want her to come home with him, and thought dealing with it on the side of the road would be better.
There was no way out. He pulled over. Aleesa stopped her car behind his and burst out. "Why were you driving so fast? Didn’t you see my car?"
"No, I’m sorry. I was focused on the road." The first white lie for the night had left Nick’s lips.
"Where have you been all night?!" She was shaking, on the verge of tears.
"Just out with Jamie." Nick acted as casual as possible, even though his heart was thumping. He shoved his hands into his pockets, "We were hanging out at the beach. We'd organized it a few days ago." The second white lie. And then with feigned anger in his voice, "And what the hell are you doing driving around at midnight on a Monday?"
"I’ve been trying to call you all night!" A single tear began its slow journey down her left cheek and Nick’s heart melted. He had no defence against a woman’s tears and Aleesa knew it. "You weren’t home so I rang your mobile and you didn’t answer that."
"Yeah. I don’t know. I must have left it at work by accident." The third white lie. Since Nick had started dating Aleesa he had become a master of telling the "white lie". He’d had to, for his own sanity.
"Well…" Aleesa was now visibly quite upset. "I just wanted to talk with you." Her voice was choking on the words. "After I called you, and you didn’t answer I drove to your place and waited in the driveway for an hour and a half. I fell asleep in the car. Then you weren’t home at nine, so I drove to your parents and grandparents place to see if your car was there. But you weren’t so I thought you’d be with Jamie. So I called directory assistance for information and they gave me his phone number and address."
"You got his address?" Nick didn’t think they were supposed to give that out.
"I asked nicely." She smiled through her tears. Nick knew Aleesa had the knack of getting more out of people than they wanted to give. "So I rang Jamie and he wasn’t there."
"Well he was out with me." Nick couldn’t believe the lengths she had gone to find him.
"So then I drove to Glenelg and around the city looking for your car. Finally I decided to go to Jamie’s place and see if maybe he had come home and knew something."
"Wow."
"When I rang you and there was no answer I panicked. I just wanted to talk to you."
Nick moved towards her and gave her a hug. He loved Aleesa, and even though she caused him so much heartache, he thought she was good person. "It wasn’t her fault," he would reason.
"Aleesa I’m tired. It’s midnight on a Monday and I don’t have the energy to argue. I want to go home." He looked at her face, now wet with tears. "You can come home with me if you like." He felt broken, his resolve gone. She had weakened him… again.
Arriving home soon after, Nick trudged up to his front door with Aleesa chattering excitedly behind him. She was pulling at his clothes the minute the door closed and they fell into bed like always. The sex with Aleesa was always great, but Nick couldn’t help but feel that this time his heart really wasn’t in it.
As they drifted off, Nick let his mind wander back to the start of his evening and wished for a simpler life.
[A Story of Fiction]
7:16pm on a Monday in March
Nick didn’t feel like seeing or speaking to anyone as he leaned against his black leather sofa and turned on his flat-screen television with the remote. Wearing just boxer shorts and a t-shirt, he was ready for bed after a stressful day at work.
He and Aleesa had had problems of late and this had culminated in a ridiculous argument the day before. Nick was now abundantly aware how he should be stacking the dishwasher.
He flicked through the channels and ate the pizza he had picked up on the way home. Half ham and pineapple, half pepperoni and mushroom.
He had just settled on a re-run of Friends when the phone rang. Nick let it ring. The answering machine kicked in, and when it beeped, inviting a message, the caller had already hung up. Oh well, couldn’t have been important then.
The phone rang again. Nick turned and looked at it. Why did people only call when he wanted a quiet night alone. He let the answering machine take the call. Again, no message.
"Hmm." Nick rubbed his chin and felt the stubble emerging. He turned back to the television and bit into another slice of pizza.
The phone rang again. This had to be Aleesa calling. No-one else he knew would try calling him three times in a row and not leave a message.
Nick felt a bit guilty, but damn it, a man needed his peace. She lived a half-hour drive away, so he could just stay in the safety of his home.
Suddenly his mobile phone rang. He picked up his phone from the kitchen counter and looked at the screen. "Aleesa Home." Just as he’d suspected. Aleesa was making the calls, and now she was trying him on his mobile to see where he was. Should I answer it? He dithered with grumpy indecision until the call was answered by his voicemail.
He was still holding the phone in his hand when it rang again. "Aleesa Home." His hand shook a little with nervous anticipation. Why did she keep ringing? Stubbornness prevented him from answering. He could just call her in the morning and make up a story about where he had been. His voicemail took the call again.
He kept looking down at the mobile phone display and scratched his head with anxious anticipation. It wasn’t the first time Nick had been bombarded with calls. He kept looking at the phone but it didn’t ring. Perhaps she had decided to wait until tomorrow. Making a conscious effort to calm himself, Nick put the phone back on the counter and walked back to Friends and his cooling pizza.
As he sat back down the mobile phone rang again. Mesmerised by its ringing he walked over to it. This time the display read "Aleesa Mobile."
"Shit!" Nick grumbled. "She’s coming over!" His heart was racing, and his hands shook. He took a couple of deep breaths and thought of his options: Leave the house… or…err… stop contemplating and just leave the house!
He ran into the bedroom and grabbed his favourite jeans and a tracksuit top from his closet. He was pulling on his jeans as he dialled his friend Jamie’s number.
"Hello." Came the voice at the other end.
"Jamie, it’s Nick."
"G’day mate! Har y’u goin’?" Jamie had the most Australian accent of all Nick’s friends. His was a childhood growing up on a farm.
"Good, what you doing tonight?" Nick could hear his voice racing down the line, as he .
"Nothin’."
"Can I come over?"
"Err… Sure. When do you think you’ll be ‘round?"
"Oh, in about 15 minutes."
"Okay. What’s up?"
"I’ll explain when I get there!"
Nick hung up the phone before Jamie had a could speak. Less than two minutes later Nick was trotting down the stairs to his car, cramming a piece of pepperoni pizza in his mouth.
"Oh shit!" He remembered he hadn’t filled the car with petrol. He’d been driving for three days with the fuel warning light on. "Shit!" He started up the car. The fuel gauge didn’t move. Nick always tried to get as much out of every tank without running out. Jamie lived 10-15 minutes away, and Nick knew he couldn’t get there and back on the remaining fumes.
He drove to the service station two blocks away, and pulled up to the pump furthest from the road. If Aleesa was coming to his place she would drive past here, so he had to hurry.
Nick’s heart pounded a violent rhythm. He kept one eye on the road, one on the pump. Like a criminal on the run, he crouched a little behind his car, so as not to be visible from the road, while appearing casual and avoiding suspicion from the attendant. Then the stupidity of the situation hit him - he was being chased out of his own home by his girlfriend!
Just as he straightened up, laughing at his ridiculous predicament, he saw a flash of yellow speeding down the street and his stomach lurched. Aleesa’s Hyundai.
He sucked in the chilled air.
"Jesus Christ!" He slunk lower as Aleesa shot past, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
He exhaled. Without thinking, he pulled the pump out of the car, petrol still flowing. He sprayed unleaded on the side of his car before his hand caught up with his racing brain.
Nick ran in, paid for the gas and was back in his car in seconds. What if he saw he wasn't around and drove back home? She might see him on the way to Jamie’s.
He pulled into a dark side street and waited anxiously. He listened to his heart thud thud in the dark. No yellow car shot by. She must be waiting at his place.
Nick shook his head. What the fuck’s wrong with her? He could feel his cheeks warm with anger. It’s a bloody Monday night! Normal people are tired on Monday nights! How did I get myself into this? What am I doing?
He opened the window and breathed in the fresh cool air. It was unseasonally cool for April in Adelaide, but that suited Nick -he wasn’t much of a "beach bum". Hesitantly he started his journey Jamie’s place, deciding side roads would be the safest route. When his mobile rang it cut the silence with a digital shrillness. Keep it together, man. Looking down he saw "Jamie Home" flash on his phone and he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Jamie, what’s up?"
"I thought you could bring over those sweet-tipped cigars and we could have a smoke."
"Sorry I can’t. I’ve already left."
"Can’t you go back and get ‘em?"
"No. I’ll explain when I get there."
"Oh- "
"I’ll see you in ten minutes." He cut him off.
Nick drove down the road and took a left when he reached a T-junction. Then a right, the road curved right, left onto a road with speed bumps, another right. Nick rolled his car to a stop sign and looked left and right. Which way now? Craning his neck, he read, "Jeffrey and... McKenzie streets," out loud, hoping it would trigger a grid position in his mind. It didn’t, but his street directory indicated he was lost deep in suburbia. "Should've gone right there, not left!" he nodded as his finger traced his route.
Suddenly there was a honking horn and headlights flashing high beam behind him. He jumped with surprise. "Fuck! Aleesa!" He squinted as he peered into his rear-view mirror, examining the shape of the headlights. It wasn’t a Hyundai. He exhaled, relieved.
Nick’s foot stabbed at the accelerator and the car lurched forward. He decided to risk the major roads, knowing he had a high chance of seeing Aleesa if she was driving back home. Furtively glancing right, then left, then right again, he swung out into the road, wincing at the bright streetlights. He had to contain himself from speeding to Jamie’s apartment.
"What took you so long?" Jamie opened the door still wearing his crisp white work shirt and navy suit pants.
"I got lost in the back streets getting here. C’mon let’s go."
"Where?" Jamie was carrying a basket of freshly washed, but not dried, laundry.
"To the beach."
"Err." Jamie looked at his wet clothes. "Can I hang these up first?"
"No. We’ve got to get out of here."
"What the…?"
"We’ll take my car, so if Aleesa comes by here you’re not implicated."
Jamie threw his arms in the air and looked at his oldest friend incredulously.
"Just get in the car."
Nick swiftly headed for the car with Jamie following, head shaking. "He’s lost his fuckin’ mind!"
Taking off with a jump of the clutch and a squeal of rubber, Nick manoeuvered side streets to the beachside neighbourhood in Adelaide.
"Where’d y’ wanna go?" Jamie asked as they paced towards a café on Jetty Road.
"How about The Chocolate Box?" His stomach growled at the thought of a sugary treat.
"Sounds good. What’s goin’ on? I think you owe me, as I’ll probably have mouldy washing."
"I don’t know…" Nick glanced around as they walked into the warm smell of espresso. No Aleesa.
"Whaddya mean ‘I don’t know’? You chased me out of my home on a Monday night. This had better be good."
"Aleesa was calling me and I didn’t want to speak to her or see her so I left the house in a hurry. I thought that if I went to my parents or grandad’s she’d find me there, and I didn’t want to sleep in the car all night so I called you first."
"Oh God! Aleesa! When are you goin’ to dump that bitch?"
"I can’t."
"Whaddya mean ‘I can’t’? Just tell her ‘you’re dumped’ and it’s over."
"It’s not that easy." Nick was shifting his weight from side to side anxiously.
They ordered their coffees and slices of rich triple chocolate gateaux and found seats outside on the patio, Nick’s eyes darting about to see if he had been followed.
"Nick, what’s with the shifty eyes?"
"I can’t see her. I don’t know. It’s so stressful with her. We argue all the time. She’s storming out on me and threatening me, and whenever I get upset she turns on the waterworks and I’m powerless."
Jamie pursed his lips together.
"I’ve run out of patience with her." Nick looked again over his shoulder and saw a couple holding hands.
"So dump her."
"I know." Nick’s head dropped as he absently spooned at the froth topping his coffee. "I can’t. I don’t know. I just don’t have the energy."
"Energy to say ‘you’re gone’?!" Jamie pursed his lips again and glared at his best friend.
"Yeah yeah. I know I have to. I’m just worried what will happen when we do break up. She’ll go berserk." Again Nick took a nervous look around.
"What could she do?" Jamie sipped his coffee.
"She could throw stones at my windows, smash up my car…" Nick’s voice trailed away.
"Do you really think she’d do that?" Jamie had seen some weird stuff from Aleesa, but his voice indicated he thought Nick was going too far now.
"I wouldn’t put it past her." Nick sipped his own coffee. "She’s thrown stuff at me before."
"What stuff?"
"Hard stuff. Stuff that would hurt if she could aim straight. She grabs the first thing she sees. She’s even thrown her dildo at me!"
Jamie’s eyes rolled at the thought of a 9-inch rubber penis flying towards his friend and recalled another throwing incident. He paused and lowered the tone of his voice, "As a friend I need to tell you something."
"Okay." Nick nodded.
"You know the guys don’t won’t see you anymore if she’s with you. You’re great fun, but the way she carries on, it just ruins it for everyone. That’s why we haven’t invited you to come with us for Easter."
"Really?" Nick was suddenly conscious of spending less time with his mates.
"That time we were all out for Robbo’s birthday-" Jamie’s blue eyes pierced Nick’s.
Nick nodded, knowing where the story was headed.
"And she threw wine on you. That was fucked! It ruined the night for all of us. She was gettin’ all insecure and even though you wore the wine, we felt it too. Sometimes she’s great, but she carries on like an idiot far too often. We just wanna have a good time."
Nick nodded again and rubbed his face with both hands.
"You’re just not the same anymore. You’re on edge right now!" Jamie shook his head with disappointment. "Aleesa’s taken the old Nick away. You always had so much energy. You look exhausted."
"I feel exhausted."
"You have to break up with her."
"I know. I will. Just give me time."
"How much time? We’re talking about friendships here... your own health and sanity. We’ve had this conversation before."
"Yeah I know." Nick slouched in his chair.
Nothing was said for a minute as they both digested some cake and coffee.
"Doesn’t she have a key to your place?"
"No." Nick smiled finally. "I took it back two weeks ago. I was sick of her arriving unannounced at ten at night."
"And she didn’t make copies?"
"I’ll know when I get home." Nick imagined his walls being spray-painted, the red paint dribbling down like blood in a B-grade horror film.
"Let’s go ‘n’ play some pinball!"
Nick looked at his watch. It was already almost nine. So much for a quiet night at home. "Okay." Anything to take his mind off Aleesa.
Lou's Video Parlour was almost empty. Two teenage kids were playing a shoot-'em-up game and a couple was on the racing cars. Even the 80s music was playing quietly.
They slapped the little stainless steel balls around their bright neon cage, Nick thinking how much he felt like one of them, bouncing off the walls. After a couple of hours, Jamie was killing him so they took a break and had another caffeine hit. It was almost midnight when they were walking back to the car.
As they pulled into Jamie’s driveway, Nick broke the silence, "It’s late. Aleesa has to be home in bed by now. It is Monday after all." Nick heard the relief in his own voice.
"Yeah, you’re right." Jamie sounded positive.
"Thanks for coming out with me tonight at such short notice."
"No worries mate. Anythin’ for a friend." Jamie jumped out of the car and headed towards his front door.
Driving home, Nick felt exhaustion drag him down. He thought for the first time about how his tiredness affected him physically. He felt his shoulders rounded and slumped, his eyes strained and his head bowed. He remembered his half-eaten pizza at home and the quiet evening that had slipped through his fingers. Nick sighed as he turned the corner.
He almost sensed the yellow flash before he saw it. Suddenly a car turned off the main road and onto the street Nick was on. Aleesa!
Nick crouched over the wheel and increased his speed. He turned left onto the main road and accelerated wildly. He could feel reason leaving him as he glanced repeatedly into the rear-view mirror. He felt like he was being chased by a serial killer in a movie. No. No. No! Yes. Aleesa had seen him and was now in pursuit. The imagined killer was sharpening his rusty hook. His stomach clenched and his balls tightened. She was at least 300 metres behind but was closing quickly. Nick estimated she must have been driving over 100km/h. Her car was lurching rapidly towards him as if it were possessed.
Suddenly he realised he would need to explain why he had ignored her calls. His mobile was on the passenger seat. One hand on the wheel, he switched it off and buried it in the back of the glove box. His second wind had blown in with a fury and he was suddenly wide awake. He was careening through the streets dangerously, but she was still gaining.
He realised the futility of a car chase and slowed down. She came up alongside him, her brakes squealing as she slowed to his speed.
Nick looked over to see a very distressed-looking Aleesa screaming and gesticulating at him through the window. He didn’t want her to come home with him, and thought dealing with it on the side of the road would be better.
There was no way out. He pulled over. Aleesa stopped her car behind his and burst out. "Why were you driving so fast? Didn’t you see my car?"
"No, I’m sorry. I was focused on the road." The first white lie for the night had left Nick’s lips.
"Where have you been all night?!" She was shaking, on the verge of tears.
"Just out with Jamie." Nick acted as casual as possible, even though his heart was thumping. He shoved his hands into his pockets, "We were hanging out at the beach. We'd organized it a few days ago." The second white lie. And then with feigned anger in his voice, "And what the hell are you doing driving around at midnight on a Monday?"
"I’ve been trying to call you all night!" A single tear began its slow journey down her left cheek and Nick’s heart melted. He had no defence against a woman’s tears and Aleesa knew it. "You weren’t home so I rang your mobile and you didn’t answer that."
"Yeah. I don’t know. I must have left it at work by accident." The third white lie. Since Nick had started dating Aleesa he had become a master of telling the "white lie". He’d had to, for his own sanity.
"Well…" Aleesa was now visibly quite upset. "I just wanted to talk with you." Her voice was choking on the words. "After I called you, and you didn’t answer I drove to your place and waited in the driveway for an hour and a half. I fell asleep in the car. Then you weren’t home at nine, so I drove to your parents and grandparents place to see if your car was there. But you weren’t so I thought you’d be with Jamie. So I called directory assistance for information and they gave me his phone number and address."
"You got his address?" Nick didn’t think they were supposed to give that out.
"I asked nicely." She smiled through her tears. Nick knew Aleesa had the knack of getting more out of people than they wanted to give. "So I rang Jamie and he wasn’t there."
"Well he was out with me." Nick couldn’t believe the lengths she had gone to find him.
"So then I drove to Glenelg and around the city looking for your car. Finally I decided to go to Jamie’s place and see if maybe he had come home and knew something."
"Wow."
"When I rang you and there was no answer I panicked. I just wanted to talk to you."
Nick moved towards her and gave her a hug. He loved Aleesa, and even though she caused him so much heartache, he thought she was good person. "It wasn’t her fault," he would reason.
"Aleesa I’m tired. It’s midnight on a Monday and I don’t have the energy to argue. I want to go home." He looked at her face, now wet with tears. "You can come home with me if you like." He felt broken, his resolve gone. She had weakened him… again.
Arriving home soon after, Nick trudged up to his front door with Aleesa chattering excitedly behind him. She was pulling at his clothes the minute the door closed and they fell into bed like always. The sex with Aleesa was always great, but Nick couldn’t help but feel that this time his heart really wasn’t in it.
As they drifted off, Nick let his mind wander back to the start of his evening and wished for a simpler life.
[A Story of Fiction]
Thursday, August 24, 2006
The Funeral
[A Story of Fiction]
I’m not a big fan of funerals. Who is? I hate going to them really. It’s one thing to go to the funeral of someone who’s lived for 90 years and died peacefully in their sleep, because you know they had a good innings. But when you go to your high school friend’s funeral and you’re only 31, then it sucks big time.
I got the call last Friday. My buddy Jack had died of cancer. Cancer! He was 32. Who dies of cancer at 32? Skin cancer. He was a fake-and-bake guy. Shit that’s sad. “Jack died this morning.” Carly said to me. “He was brave at the end but couldn’t make it.” There was a silence and I didn’t know what to say. I thought of Carly’s kind face at the other end. “Anyway, the funeral’s on Thursday at 1pm at the Greaves Funeral Home. Do you think you’ll be able to make it?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there.”
I put the phone down and covered my mouth and nose with both hands. My eyes wandered around looking for something bright to catch my eye. But all I found were the beige walls of my office. What the hell! Jack was in my group of buddies at high school, but we had gone separate ways and only saw each other a couple of times a year when the whole gang got together for poker or a night out. Geez. 32 and cancer. He’d been in for tests, and had a melanoma removed, but I never thought it would be that serious. It was just a friggin’ mole. He was a pretty fit guy. No cover boy, but still… he snowboarded and worked out a bit. Who dies of cancer at 32? Really? Am I missing something, or is 32 way too young to die? And it all happened so goddamn quickly. He cancelled on us for the last poker night because he wasn’t feeling well, but I didn’t think he would die. Shit I wish I’d kept in better contact with him now. You take for granted that we’ll all live forever when you’re in your 30s. He never even finished his degree.
The snow swirled around the white landscape that existed outside my slim office window. White and cold. I gazed out the window, but wasn’t inspired. Maybe a coffee would lift my spirits… at least my heart rate. I stood motionless in front of the open refrigerator looking at the containers with lunch and the ketchup, and the gallon of milk in the back. My eyes focused on the pink 2% label and I grabbed at the handle. I poured milk into my cup and then the hot coffee from the pot. I could smell it had been sitting for half an hour or so. The freshness had gone. But it was still caffeine.
I trudged back to my office, and caught my foot on the carpet, spilling a few drops. No one would notice a few extra brown flecks in a brown-flecked carpet.
I sat back at my beige desk, and glared at the beige wall in front of me. I lived in a world of beige. I don’t know what problem management has with colour. Who bloody dies at 32?
I opened Internet Explorer and Googled “Life Expectancy”. The top link was a government site and I clicked on it. Half way down the page I read:
Life expectancy: 77.6 years.
I stared at the screen, and the numbers glowed at me. I shut my eyes and the numbers 77.6 were imprinted on the back of my retinas. 77.6 years seemed a reasonable age to die at. I pulled out the calculator, and punched the keys with my middle finger. That would make my death day August 15th, 2052. 2052 is a long way off. I sipped at my coffee, and wiped away the damp ring from the desk.
2052. That still gives me time.
----- § -----
The air was stiff as it rushed into my nostrils. I hate winter. What a day to be buried. I pulled up into the church parking lot and made my way to the door.
“Thirty friggin two.” I mumbled under my breath, the cold air puffing in front of me.
I thought I was early, but as I opened the door and looked in the church was already three-quarters full. He must have had a lot of friends. Geez, I wonder how many would turn out for my funeral.
I looked for a familiar face but saw none. I guess I really didn’t know him that well after all. There had to be one of the gang around here… one of the poker buddies. Where’s Carly? Tall and blonde, she’d be easy to spot. Hmm. A lot of black hats. Not so easy. I wanted to call out some of my friends’ names and watch the faces turn towards me. I didn’t really want to sit next to someone I didn’t know. Not at a funeral.
For a moment I was lost. What do I do? Then I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Carly’s tired face.
“Hi.” The edges of my lips turned up the shadow of a smile.
“Hi.”
“Can I sit with you?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure I’d find someone here I knew.”
We sat down. We didn’t speak to each other. What do I say to Jack’s ex-girlfriend? Well, not the immediate ex. An ex from a few years ago. But they dated for two years. Anyway, it’s a little awkward.
I thought about Jack, and how he played poker. He only bet on good hands. He was the easiest guy to read at the table, and the easiest to bluff. But he was a good guy. Why didn’t I see him more often? What did he do when he wasn’t with his old school buddies? What did he do that he had so many friends? What am I doing? What am I doing?
There was a sudden noise from all sides. I looked up and a man dressed in black robes was tapping the microphone. That’s annoying. They should check the audio system before people arrive, not tap it in their ears! Carly grabbed my hand from my lap and squeezed it, pressing my knuckles together. I always liked Carly. She’s one of those girls who always makes you feel good.
The man at the front began to talk. I zoned out. I couldn’t help but think about Jack being only 32. I’ll be 32 in 10 months. If I only had a year to live what would I do? What would I be doing now? I’m not married. I don’t even have a girlfriend. At least I’ve got a house I’m paying off, but what’s the good of that if I die in a year?
I’ve always wanted to travel the world, or at least chunks of Europe. See the Ukraine and Scotland where my family came from; drive a Porsche; own a yacht; see the Pyramids in Egypt. God there’s so much to do! What am I doing? I’m rotting. I’m rotting at my crappy, beige job. My beige cell. I’m rotting in front of the television every night. I’m rotting at the pub. I’m rotting and getting fatter and slower and tireder. I need a new life. I need energy. I need hobbies. I need meaning! I need…
Carly squeezed my hand, “What are you whispering?” She turned to me.
“Oh. Sorry. I was thinking.”
“What were you thinking about?” She whispered back.
“My life.” I glanced over and looked into her glistening eyes.
The man in the black robes invited family members and a couple of friends to give their version of Jack’s life. Great guy. Loved the outdoors. Smart. Good looking. Never did wrong. Died a Saint. All the usual stuff. We’ll all miss him.
What are they going to say at my funeral? Had lots of dreams. Lots of good intentions. Wanted the world. Missed the boat. Missed the friggin’ boat! But we’ll all miss him just the same. My life is a bunch of bullshit. What am I contributing to the world other than methane and landfill? It’s time I started doing what I was put on this Earth to do. I can’t rot anymore! For my sake and the sake of mankind.
----- § -----
Everyone stood as the casket was carried out. Six men in dark suits. I recognized two of them. Everyone watched as it floated past them. Black hats fluttered. White tissues dabbed eyes and noses. The doors opened and the draught rushed into the church, wrapping itself around my ankles.
As people began to file out I edged into the aisle, with Carly still holding my hand. Nothing would ever happen between us, so it was okay that she held my hand. We walked towards the big wooden doors, shoulder to shoulder with strangers. Strangers brought together by a tragedy. But from every tragedy comes good.
I shuffled to the doors and felt the cold slap me in the face. It had to be minus thirty. I looked up and saw nothing but grey.
It was a great day to be alive.
[A Story of Fiction]
I’m not a big fan of funerals. Who is? I hate going to them really. It’s one thing to go to the funeral of someone who’s lived for 90 years and died peacefully in their sleep, because you know they had a good innings. But when you go to your high school friend’s funeral and you’re only 31, then it sucks big time.
I got the call last Friday. My buddy Jack had died of cancer. Cancer! He was 32. Who dies of cancer at 32? Skin cancer. He was a fake-and-bake guy. Shit that’s sad. “Jack died this morning.” Carly said to me. “He was brave at the end but couldn’t make it.” There was a silence and I didn’t know what to say. I thought of Carly’s kind face at the other end. “Anyway, the funeral’s on Thursday at 1pm at the Greaves Funeral Home. Do you think you’ll be able to make it?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there.”
I put the phone down and covered my mouth and nose with both hands. My eyes wandered around looking for something bright to catch my eye. But all I found were the beige walls of my office. What the hell! Jack was in my group of buddies at high school, but we had gone separate ways and only saw each other a couple of times a year when the whole gang got together for poker or a night out. Geez. 32 and cancer. He’d been in for tests, and had a melanoma removed, but I never thought it would be that serious. It was just a friggin’ mole. He was a pretty fit guy. No cover boy, but still… he snowboarded and worked out a bit. Who dies of cancer at 32? Really? Am I missing something, or is 32 way too young to die? And it all happened so goddamn quickly. He cancelled on us for the last poker night because he wasn’t feeling well, but I didn’t think he would die. Shit I wish I’d kept in better contact with him now. You take for granted that we’ll all live forever when you’re in your 30s. He never even finished his degree.
The snow swirled around the white landscape that existed outside my slim office window. White and cold. I gazed out the window, but wasn’t inspired. Maybe a coffee would lift my spirits… at least my heart rate. I stood motionless in front of the open refrigerator looking at the containers with lunch and the ketchup, and the gallon of milk in the back. My eyes focused on the pink 2% label and I grabbed at the handle. I poured milk into my cup and then the hot coffee from the pot. I could smell it had been sitting for half an hour or so. The freshness had gone. But it was still caffeine.
I trudged back to my office, and caught my foot on the carpet, spilling a few drops. No one would notice a few extra brown flecks in a brown-flecked carpet.
I sat back at my beige desk, and glared at the beige wall in front of me. I lived in a world of beige. I don’t know what problem management has with colour. Who bloody dies at 32?
I opened Internet Explorer and Googled “Life Expectancy”. The top link was a government site and I clicked on it. Half way down the page I read:
Life expectancy: 77.6 years.
I stared at the screen, and the numbers glowed at me. I shut my eyes and the numbers 77.6 were imprinted on the back of my retinas. 77.6 years seemed a reasonable age to die at. I pulled out the calculator, and punched the keys with my middle finger. That would make my death day August 15th, 2052. 2052 is a long way off. I sipped at my coffee, and wiped away the damp ring from the desk.
2052. That still gives me time.
----- § -----
The air was stiff as it rushed into my nostrils. I hate winter. What a day to be buried. I pulled up into the church parking lot and made my way to the door.
“Thirty friggin two.” I mumbled under my breath, the cold air puffing in front of me.
I thought I was early, but as I opened the door and looked in the church was already three-quarters full. He must have had a lot of friends. Geez, I wonder how many would turn out for my funeral.
I looked for a familiar face but saw none. I guess I really didn’t know him that well after all. There had to be one of the gang around here… one of the poker buddies. Where’s Carly? Tall and blonde, she’d be easy to spot. Hmm. A lot of black hats. Not so easy. I wanted to call out some of my friends’ names and watch the faces turn towards me. I didn’t really want to sit next to someone I didn’t know. Not at a funeral.
For a moment I was lost. What do I do? Then I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Carly’s tired face.
“Hi.” The edges of my lips turned up the shadow of a smile.
“Hi.”
“Can I sit with you?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure I’d find someone here I knew.”
We sat down. We didn’t speak to each other. What do I say to Jack’s ex-girlfriend? Well, not the immediate ex. An ex from a few years ago. But they dated for two years. Anyway, it’s a little awkward.
I thought about Jack, and how he played poker. He only bet on good hands. He was the easiest guy to read at the table, and the easiest to bluff. But he was a good guy. Why didn’t I see him more often? What did he do when he wasn’t with his old school buddies? What did he do that he had so many friends? What am I doing? What am I doing?
There was a sudden noise from all sides. I looked up and a man dressed in black robes was tapping the microphone. That’s annoying. They should check the audio system before people arrive, not tap it in their ears! Carly grabbed my hand from my lap and squeezed it, pressing my knuckles together. I always liked Carly. She’s one of those girls who always makes you feel good.
The man at the front began to talk. I zoned out. I couldn’t help but think about Jack being only 32. I’ll be 32 in 10 months. If I only had a year to live what would I do? What would I be doing now? I’m not married. I don’t even have a girlfriend. At least I’ve got a house I’m paying off, but what’s the good of that if I die in a year?
I’ve always wanted to travel the world, or at least chunks of Europe. See the Ukraine and Scotland where my family came from; drive a Porsche; own a yacht; see the Pyramids in Egypt. God there’s so much to do! What am I doing? I’m rotting. I’m rotting at my crappy, beige job. My beige cell. I’m rotting in front of the television every night. I’m rotting at the pub. I’m rotting and getting fatter and slower and tireder. I need a new life. I need energy. I need hobbies. I need meaning! I need…
Carly squeezed my hand, “What are you whispering?” She turned to me.
“Oh. Sorry. I was thinking.”
“What were you thinking about?” She whispered back.
“My life.” I glanced over and looked into her glistening eyes.
The man in the black robes invited family members and a couple of friends to give their version of Jack’s life. Great guy. Loved the outdoors. Smart. Good looking. Never did wrong. Died a Saint. All the usual stuff. We’ll all miss him.
What are they going to say at my funeral? Had lots of dreams. Lots of good intentions. Wanted the world. Missed the boat. Missed the friggin’ boat! But we’ll all miss him just the same. My life is a bunch of bullshit. What am I contributing to the world other than methane and landfill? It’s time I started doing what I was put on this Earth to do. I can’t rot anymore! For my sake and the sake of mankind.
----- § -----
Everyone stood as the casket was carried out. Six men in dark suits. I recognized two of them. Everyone watched as it floated past them. Black hats fluttered. White tissues dabbed eyes and noses. The doors opened and the draught rushed into the church, wrapping itself around my ankles.
As people began to file out I edged into the aisle, with Carly still holding my hand. Nothing would ever happen between us, so it was okay that she held my hand. We walked towards the big wooden doors, shoulder to shoulder with strangers. Strangers brought together by a tragedy. But from every tragedy comes good.
I shuffled to the doors and felt the cold slap me in the face. It had to be minus thirty. I looked up and saw nothing but grey.
It was a great day to be alive.
[A Story of Fiction]
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