After The Flesh

by Colin Gallant

  They wandered around town for most of the afternoon. It was a beautiful day, possibly one of the last truly beautiful days of the year. It was not a day to be spent indoors. They ended up in the Tim Horton’s just south of downtown where they sat for the better part of an hour before the manager politely asked them to leave.

  Instead of being upset at the woman, Freddy left willingly and happily. His mind may have been simple when it came to the niceties of social interaction but he could understand the store’s desire to be rid of non-paying customers, to open up a table for someone who would. That was normal behavior to him and he could accept it. Actually, I think he was more pissed off at me for suggesting he should have been pissed off at all. Then again, I suppose even a sociopath has some sense of propriety.

  I met up with them at about the same time as they ran into Dave coming out of Kommanderz Arcade. It was amusing to me to see the reactions of our friends now that Carrie was back in town. Dave, like Josh, couldn’t seem to look Freddy in the eye when she was around. I imagine he was guilty of the same shower-time fantasies as the rest of us.

  Carrie was – If you’ll pardon my crudity – well built. But she was not really ever considered a girl to most of us. We knew she was of course. We knew she peed sitting down, was forced to wear armor on a monthly basis and she was more apt to have posters of Marky-Mark and the New Kids than Samantha Fox. But we also knew that she could out run most of us, easily beat half of us in an arm wrestle and talk hockey or baseball stats with no vacant look of boredom dulling her eyes. She was a chick but we forgave her. She left for the summer as just Carrie and returned as this gorgeous woman none of us even realized was always there. The guys had started to see her in a different light and her being with Freddy only made things all the more uncomfortable.

  Everyone was a little bit afraid of Freddy but I was probably the only one who was aware of it. If they were not afraid of him, he did make them feel just a little bit uncomfortable. Maybe they could sense the monster in him. You could sometimes see the monster in his eyes. It was definitely something in his eyes. Back then his eyes never really meshed with what the rest of his face was saying. Around our friends he was always cool, always relaxed. Even when he was excited about something his eyes were a step behind or a step ahead. And no matter what the situation no one ever saw Freddy lose his cool.

  Now that Carrie had come into her own it made being around her and Freddy increasingly awkward for our friends. I hardly think she was completely unaware of the effect she was having on guys like Josh and Dave – I’m sure by this time she knew full-well – but she had no idea how it translated to their interactions with Freddy.

  Carrie did not find Freddy intimidating in the least. Neither did her mother. They would be shocked if told they should have been. It seemed that the people closest to him knew him the least. A stranger would meet him for the first time and on some instinctive level he would sense a threat. Those who spoke with him, lived with him and watched him grow were blissfully unaware of the danger.

  I don’t even think John was ever aware of the danger closing in on him with the inexorable pace of a circling shark. Even in his last moments I don’t think John ever realized how long or how often his life had swayed on the brink. But perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself.

  Dave was upset. He almost didn’t even cast a covert glance at Carrie’s breasts as we all met on the sidewalk outside Kommanderz. He motioned for us to follow him and hurried up the street. I tagged along, hanging back just enough for a passer-by to assume I was in the group but not too close for Freddy to notice me if I wasn’t meant to be there.

  “We’re fucking dead!” Dave proclaimed in earnest. “We are so fucking dead!”

  Freddy smirked. “Take it easy.” He attempted to placate Dave in the manner of teenagers the world over. “You piss yourself playing Mortal Kombat again?”

  “Fuck you,” Dave told him without missing a beat, “I’m serious.”

  “And you got a serious wet-spot to prove it.”

  Dave did not take the bait. “I just ran into Mike Thomas and a couple of the guys that were in grade ten last year. You remember Mike – he was the guy who got caught jerking off in the showers a couple ‘a’ years ago.”

  “Yeah,” Freddy nodded. “He was called Mike on the mic for, like, two years or something.

  “Yeah, well I had to remind him of it.”

  Freddy’s eyes narrowed.

  “He was already ragging on me – kept trying to hit the buttons while I was playing – totally fucked up the finishing move I was gonna do. I told him to fuck off. I told him to go play with his mic.”

  Carrie was shaking her head. I could understand how childish the whole affair seemed to her. I was a little embarrassed for my sex.

  “He says he’s got five dozen eggs he’s been keeping out in the sun all summer. He’s coming after us.”

  “Us?” Freddy’s eyebrow cocked up. “How did you pissing off Mike Thomas turn into us getting egged?”

  “I told him you had my back,” Dave replied. “Besides – first day of school is always open season. He’s gonna come after us anyway. And it’s us because I’m gonna be hiding in the back seat of Josh’s car.”

  “You’re gonna get it either way,” Freddy told him. “Why did you bring the rest of us in on it?”

  “You’re gonna be in Josh’s car too I assume.”

  Freddy nodded.

  “So, if they come after me, they’re gonna have to come after you too.”

  Freddy crossed his arms. His face went flat, cold and emotionless. His eyes went colder still. Carrie did not see it or she did not read how truly malevolent it was. Just for a moment, the tiniest of instants Freddy let the monster come to the surface. “Why wouldn’t we just kick you to the curb?” He asked Dave quietly.

  Dave took an involuntary step backward. “Dude, that’s harsh!”

  Carrie stepped between them. “I for one am not planning on getting egged on Tuesday. No one throws eggs at a girl.”

  “I didn’t know you were a girl,” Dave tried, jumping back to avoid getting hit. “You throw a pitch harder than most guys and I know you could kick my ass.”

  “Anyone could kick your ass,” she proclaimed. Carrie flipped him the bird and turned her back on him. “Freddy,” she began, “if you’re with me you won’t get egged.”

  Freddy shook his head. “Dave’s got a point. Mike on the mic is only gonna remember you as the chick who struck him out at tryouts last year.”

  “That was last year,” she scoffed.

  “Don’t matter, Hon. I think you should wear running shoes on Tuesday just the same.”

  “Whatever,” Carrie tossed her hair in defiance. “I don’t see what the big deal about getting egged is anyway.”

  Dave snorted. “That’s ‘cause you haven’t smelled a rotten egg. It’s like a skunk – you can’t just take a shower. It takes, like weeks for the smell to come out.”

  Carrie looked a little less confident. “It can’t be that bad. Can it?”

  “Hell, yeah!” Dave pressed. “You remember that time Jeff farted in the back of your mom’s car? She had to pull over and let it air out. She still tells him to let it out before getting in.”

  Carrie was grimacing. “That was gross - tres gross!”

  “Fucking right it was. A rotten egg is like ten times worse – a thousand times worse!”

  Freddy grunted. “And Josh just got the stink of your puke out of his car.”

  -

  John had a talk with Freddy on the Monday afternoon before school started. He gave Freddy a beer and sat him down on the back porch. The day was bright and sunny but a chill crept in beneath the daylight warmth and they both wore coats, Freddy in his sheepskin jean jacket and John in his red flannel.

  “You’re getting older,” John commented. His eyes were a little bleary and the smell of old booze like too much Aqua-Velva seemed to waft from the pits and hollows of his skin. For the ten or twelve days
he had been off work John had been drunk most of the time. John did work hard. Despite list of his faults no one could deny him that. I suppose he had the right to relax when the opportunity arose.

  Freddy glanced at his father. He hated the man. He loathed John and whatever respect he did have for him was little more than a ragged shell of its former self hanging on by an untwining thread. John never knew how little respect remained.

  “You’re startin’ high school tomorrow,” John continued, “and you got a girlfriend – a sweet-lookin’ one at that.”

  Freddy noted the wistful, possibly lustful look that came to his father’s eyes at the mention of Carrie. He waited for John to continue, uncertain where this was headed.

  “I don’t have much to say,” John smiled, “I just want to tell you, you’re doin’ good is all.”

  “Thanks, dad,” Freddy smiled back. Inside he was calculating how many days John had left. He was still working on a plan. It would not be anything like Çin but it would be just as necessary.

  “You be careful,” John added. He was not quite drunk yet but the influence of his consumption was becoming evident in his voice. “My father told me to always pack a rubber.” John laughed, blushing slightly either from embarrassment or from booze. “You know what that is, right?”

  “Of course, dad.”

  “Don’t get smart,” he warned, “and don’t be afraid to use one. You’re too young to be havin’ a kid.”

  “I’m not planning to, dad.” Freddy sipped the beer, grimacing slightly. Beer was not his favorite beverage to begin with but John did not care what temperature it was served at.

  “It’s not always planned, Freddy. You know you weren’t.” He said it so easily, so casually. But it was the truth and John didn’t mind telling him.

  “I know, I know. You know what I mean.”

  John grunted. “I s’pose I do.” He shifted to one side, rattled out a substantial fart and belched. “Full-on pipe-cleaner!” He grinned at Freddy.

  Freddy regarded his father carefully. John seemed different somehow. He couldn’t quite place it. Since the lay-off started John’s temper was more refined, less erratic perhaps. Before, John would just lash out over almost anything – or nothing. Now it was as though he saved it up or was more cautious about it. It made Freddy nervous and he was not one to be nervous.

  Maybe the change in John could not be explained. Maybe it shouldn’t. Since the lay-off he was drinking more but he was also more relaxed. Being off the kill floor might be restoring his sanity. But then again maybe he was missing it. Like father, like son, I think. Just like Freddy, John Cartwright enjoyed his power over life – even if it only meant spiking a dumb cow that didn’t even know what was about to happen.

  Freddy drank his beer slowly. He listened to his father dole out a modicum of the wisdom he so rarely imparted to his son. He thought about Carrie and the weekend to come. There was not a moment in his memory before he could recall wanting to have sex. For his whole double-digit life, he had been waiting. Ever since he was shown Nancy’s secret he had wanted more. For Freddy the years had dragged in anticipation. This next week would be even longer.

  -

  That evening Freddy and Carrie met Dave, Jeff and Josh at the coffee shop. Once again, I had been excluded. I was always excluded these days. I wonder if Freddy was afraid, I would blurt something about Çin he didn’t want getting around. Or he might have feared Carrie would divide her attention with me. Whatever the case most things I got second hand – usually from Freddy himself.

  Dave repeated his story for everyone’s benefit – although I’m certain he had already told everyone all about Mike Thomas’ threats.

  “I want gas money,” Josh stated immediately. “Two bucks each.”

  “Two bucks!” Jeff protested. “You ain’t gonna burn half of that!”

  “Are you gonna pay for the car wash?” Josh countered. “And you gotta consider my time.”

  Jeff muttered under his breath.

  “I didn’t catch that,” Josh leaned forward. “You know, I don’t have to drive anybody.”

  “Nothing,” Jeff replied. He scratched absently at his temple, conveniently using his middle finger.

  Dave said nothing. He was silent, an anguished look on his face. He was probably afraid that anything else he said would put Josh over the edge and they would all be forced to walk. If they did, he would be dripping and stinking before he got half-way home.

  Everyone coughed up the cash and Josh made it disappear.

  Carrie hesitated, bill in hand still. “You know, I could probably get my mother to drive us all and pick us up. I doubt anyone would chuck an egg at her car.”

  Both Jeff and Dave laughed the suggestion off.

  “What?”

  Freddy patted her hand. “It would probably be better to get egged than be dropped off by your mom.”

  Josh nodded. “Nobody likes gettin’ egged but it’s cool. It’s definitely not cool to be seen getting’ a good-bye kiss from your mom on the first day of school.

  Jeff smirked. “I dunno. You’ve seen her mom.”

  Freddy lashed out with blind rage. For an instant he ceased to think. Before he knew it, he leaned forward across the table and struck Jeff solidly, at full strength on the point where his shoulder and chest merged.

  Jeff squawked in shock and pain. “Jesus-fuck, Dude!” He cried out, cradling his arm. “That fucking hurt!”

  “Good,” Freddy replied calmly. His anger melted instantly. I think he was as stunned as Jeff, as stunned as everyone else at the table. They were stunned with the ferocity of his attack. But he was stunned at how quickly his temper had grown and how quickly he had lost control of it.

  “I can’t feel my friggin’ arm, asshole!” Jeff clenched and unclenched his fist. His face registered both shock and pain.

  “Freddy,” Carrie put herself between them, “you didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I did,” he said, “for your mom.”

  “You didn’t have to hit me so hard, man!” Jeff continued to protest. “I thought moms were fair game. They’ve always been fair game. When did that change?”

  “Moms are fair game – just not Carrie’s.”

  Josh and Dave were silent. Both were stunned by the level of violence Freddy had displayed.

  “Look, Jeff, I’m sorry,” Freddy tried, “I just don’t like it when people say shit about her mom.”

  Jeff sulked, mulling over Freddy’s apology. “It’s gonna bruise,” he decided.

  “I didn’t mean to hit you that hard,” Freddy added. It was a lie of course. In the instant he lashed out Freddy wanted to do more than hurt him. In that instant he imagined himself killing him. He always thought he was in control, savoring his rage when it came like a fine wine. The speed with which his anger flashed over scared him a little. It meant his control was not quite absolute. And if it could be lost so readily could it even be called control?

  Carrie saved him. “You’re a wuss,” she scolded Jeff, “and Freddy’s right – I don’t want you talking about my mom that way either.”

  “Fine. Sorry.”

  The subject of conversation drifted then. Once the battle plans were drawn up, they could move on. They talked about school, the classes they were taking and what they each had heard about the teachers. The novelty of picking classes was still new and it became obvious some of us had given serious thought to our futures while others had only thought about how easy they could make high school.

  I won’t name names but other than Carrie, few of our friends would be joining me in the so-called advanced program. These were smart kids. They were intelligent and each of them had done fairly well in junior high. Their choices were those of the lazy and short-sighted. I knew they would come to regret it. I’ve long-since lost touch with these quasi-friends and I have never truly considered it a loss. Always I was on the fringe. I was just far enough outside to be left there when I hesitated at the doorstep. They included me only
because of Freddy and often at his sufferance. Whatever path they took after we parted ways is their own and of their own making. But despite my clear ambivalence for their well-being I often wonder if they have as many regrets as I do.

  -

  Carrie was quiet on the walk home. Freddy was hoping for a detour into the Green. It was a warm evening and lingering for a while behind the patchwork screen of foliage would not be uncomfortable. It was not in the cards. Carrie’s mood changed that. I’m sure she was still somewhat disturbed by Freddy’s attack on Jeff in the coffee shop.

  “I don’t know what came over me,” Freddy told her honestly. “The instant Jeff said that it was like – just that instant – I wanted to kill him.”

  “I didn’t realize you were so defensive about my mom.”

  Freddy smiled benignly. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Silence seemed the more prudent course.

  “Should I be jealous?” Carrie asked. She took his hand, twining her fingers through his as they walked.

  Freddy shot her a quick look. “What do you mean?”

  “Would you have done that for me?”

  “Of course,” he replied instantly, “but I doubt I would have hit him just once.”

  Carrie sighed and leaned close.

  He considered prompting her for that sidetrack into the Green. It was not too late to change course but, in the end, he chose to say nothing. Freddy was still young at the time. Although no man can ever truly claim to understand the heart of a woman, Freddy instinctively knew asking for a make-out session now might jeopardize his chances of reaching home base on the weekend. Instead he would be considerate and patient. He would let her make any maneuver in that direction and he would stick to batting practice until then.