“Look,” I go. “For months now we been doing this movie thing and never once did I try ’n scuttle the fucking ship. I liked it, sure, but I’m a fucking rounder. Always will be. Movies ain’t gonna change that, and every once in a while a rounder’s gotta act like a rounder and right now, that’s what I wanna do. I wanna hang with Fill ’er Up Phil and Heave-Ho and whoever’s hanging out there, tell some fucking stories, get pissed and do what I do.
“We never know when we’re gonna run into Granite. Could be months. Could be a whole frickin’ year and then we’re screwed anyhow. Let’s just go back and do what we used to do for a day. Remember?”
Timber nods. “Heave-Ho always does have some good get-togethers.”
“Damn straight,” I go.
“And Phil always talks to me about the old days when he was stickin’ up people an’ drivin’ them big cars. I like them stories,” Dick goes.
“See? See?” I go. “You guys been missing the action as much as me.”
“Well, I have to confess that Charlie’s place does have a charm to it,” Timber goes. “And a tad of moonshine’d be nice too.”
“But what if?” the old lady goes.
“What if what?” I go.
“What if we go to the movies and we meet Granite and he helps us with the ticket? What if he makes it so we can have that money? What if we don’t have to struggle to afford movies? What if we don’t have to struggle for anything anymore?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I go. “What if the sky falls? What if the fucking sun don’t rise tomorrow? What if, what if, what if. Life ain’t about what if. It’s about what is.”
“But what if we just try?” she goes.
“Just try?”
“Yes. What if we just try? We go to the movie and if we don’t find Granite we go to Heave-Ho’s anyway and you boys can sow your oats.”
“Still sounds like a stretch to me. Still sounds like we’re buying into a Square John dream that ain’t cut out for us. This is what we know. This is what we are. This is what we do.”
“I like the what-if game,” Dick goes.
“Yeah, you would,” I go.
We’re standing in front of the Marquee and there’s a few people moving up the steps and giving us curious glances.
“What if, Digger?” Dick goes. “What if we go to Charlie’s and Granite shows up here and we miss him?”
“Then we miss him.”
“But what if he wants to help us and we don’t get the chance to ask?”
“Then we don’t ask,” I go, getting frustrated at Dick’s excitement.
“But what if we do what One For The Dead says and go here, then go to Charlie’s if nothing happens?”
I look at them and shake my head. We really got a long way from where we used to be, and it kinda makes me sad somehow. In the good old days we never woulda talked about this. We’d have been on our way to Heave-Ho’s.
“All right,” I go. “I’ll play your silly little game. What if the next person out of the next cab that pulls up here is anyone else but Granite? If it’s someone else, we go to Charlie’s. What if we call it that way?”
I got them and they know it. One thing you can always trust a rounder for is that they know when they’re snookered and don’t make a big fuss about it.
“Okay,” the old lady goes.
“Sure,” Timber goes.
“Yeah, then,” Dick goes.
I smile and turn to face the traffic, and just about shit my fucking pants when Granite steps out of the next cab.
Double Dick
I KNEW IT WAS GONNA BE HIM. I knew it. I don’t know how come I knew it but I knew it anyhow. Much as a big part of me wanted to go to Heave-Ho Charlie’s, an even bigger part of me wanted him to come so I wouldn’t have to struggle no more. I wasn’t even sure of what that meant but it sounded real good to me on accounta sometimes it gets real hard out here an’ I don’t wanna do what I gotta do sometimes. So when he got out of that cab I was glad to see him.
Granite didn’t seem too surprised to see us neither. He just smiled at us as he reached through the window to give the driver his money, then walked over and slapped me on the back. “Dick. Good to see you,” he said.
“Digger found some money,” I said.
“Well, that’s good. Not a bad way to start the day, is it, Digger?”
“Better’n a swat in the balls with a frozen rabbit,” Digger said, takin’ a swallow from Timber’s bottle.
Granite just looked at him for a moment. “Well, I never really thought about it that way but, yes, I guess you’re right. It would feel better than that.”
“And he found some smokes, too,” I said, kinda wantin’ Digger to spill the beans about the ticket right away.
“Smokes? Well, it gets better, doesn’t it?”
“Tell him, Digger,” One For The Dead said.
“Tell me what?” Granite asked.
Digger just looked at him. Not hard or mean or anything like that. Just looked at him like the way he looked at an old bike he seen in an alley one time. Kinda like guessin’ about it.
“Well, there was a lottery ticket in the pack of smokes I found,” Digger said. “So I figured, what the fuck. Been a pretty lucky day already but I might as well get it looked at. So I went into a little store and, well, it was a winner.”
“A winner?” Granite said, smilin’. “Wow. What did you get?”
“Thirteen and a half.”
“Well, that’s pretty good for nothing. Thirteen dollars will always come in handy, I imagine.”
“Try thirteen and a half million, Rock.”
“Did you say million?”
“Yup.”
“Are you sure? Did you check?”
“We checked all right. The ticket’s good for thirteen and half mil.”
“Jesus,” Granite said an’ looked at all of us.
Digger told Granite all about us all goin’ down to the office where they kept the money. Granite got calmer the longer Digger told his story.
“So there was nothin’ left to do but get the fuck out of there,” Digger said.
“And look for you,” One For The Dead said.
“Me?” Granite asked. “What do you want me to do?”
“Well, none of us have any identification or a bank account and they say that we need that to get the money,” she told him.
“No ID?” Granite asked. “None of you have ID? How can that be?”
Digger snorted. “Fer fuck sake, Rock. Nobody gives a shit about that. Keeping a few pieces of paper together’s a small friggin’ thing to worry about out here. And we ain’t exactly regular folks who do the things that need us to be identified. I don’t gotta have a driver’s licence for my cart. I don’t gotta have a social insurance number ’cause I ain’t exactly pulling a friggin’ wage, and I sure as shit don’t need no birth certificate because most people don’t give a flying fuck when I was born or if I’m alive.”
Granite nodded while Digger spoke. “So what do you think I can do?”
“Help us with the ID thing,” Timber said.
“Or you could cash in the friggin’ thing and then piece us off,” Digger said.
“Piece you off?”
“Yeah. Give us the cash.”
“I don’t think I’d want to do that.”
“You don’t want someone giving you a ticket that’s worth thirteen and half million bucks? Come on, Rock. Get real.”
“Well, I suppose I could have my lawyer draw up some papers to say that you are who you are and he could have bank accounts opened for you. You’d have to pay for that, of course, and it would likely take some time, but I think we could get it done that way. Or there’s a trust account arrangement.”
“Trust account?” One For The Dead asked. “I like the sound of that.”
“Yes. Well, someone has an account opened in your name and then looks out for it. When you want money for something, you have to go through them. It’s a way of keeping your
money safe.”
“No. I like the first way better,” Digger said. “Cash is cash. I wanna be able to get it when I want it, not on someone else’s time.”
“Me too,” Timber said. “I guess if it’s ours, it should be ours.”
“You’re all sharing this?” Granite asked.
“Fucking right,” Digger said. “That’s what ya do fer your wingers when you’re solid.”
“You piece them off?” Granite asked with a grin.
“You piece ’em off,” Digger said, also grinning.
“Well, maybe I should go and look into this right away. There’re a few hours left in the business day still and we can get the ball rolling for you. Thirteen and a half million dollars doesn’t want to sit unused for very long, does it?”
“What should we do, Granite?” One For The Dead asked.
Granite looked at her an’ his eyes were really kind. “Did you know that there are movies that you can take home now?”
“Fuck off,” Digger said. “How’re ya gonna do that?”
“They’re called videos. Once a movie’s been through the theatres the company releases it as a video or a taped movie. You can rent the taped movie and watch it at home on a player that hooks up to your television. I watch movies that way all the time.”
“That sounds nice for you,” One For The Dead said.
“Well, it would be nice for you if you want to come to my home and watch one while I take care of this business.”
None of us was able to talk for a long time. We all stood there lookin’ at Granite like he wasn’t even talkin’ English no more on accounta this was a big surprise. Us guys. Us guys goin’ to someone’s house. Granite’s house. To watch movies. This was gettin’ to be a really amazin’ kind of day.
“Us?” Timber asked finally. “You want us to go to your house and watch movies?”
“If you like, yes,” Granite said.
“Why?” Timber asked.
“Cuz we’re fucking special,” Digger said. “Ain’t that right, Mr. Square John? Now that we got what other people want we’re fucking special just like the tarted-up babe at the lottery office told me.”
“Yes,” Granite said, lookin’ Digger right in the eye. “You are special. But not because you have money. Money doesn’t make anybody special. You’re special because you take care of each other. You’re special because you don’t desert each other. Ever. You’re special because even though this big friggin’ thing happened to you all, you’re still trying to get into the movies. You’re still trying to be who you are. That’s what makes you special. To me, anyway.”
“You got any hooch?” Digger asked.
“Hooch? Well, I don’t know about hooch but I have some things to drink. But if you like, you can stop off and get some hooch. You can’t get drunk in my home, though.”
“No problem,” Timber said. “I just want to get into a movie and not have to think about this any longer.”
And so we headed out of the park to get a ride over to Granite’s house an’ all’s I could think about on the way over there was rows and rows of movies all just waitin’ to be watched, an’ I figured if gettin’ a bunch of money could get you to do somethin’ like that then it must be okay. I was with my friends. That’s all I cared about. Long as we was together I was gonna be okay no matter what on accounta they’d never let nothin’ bad happen to me. Granite was my friend now too an’ I knew he wasn’t gonna let nothin’ bad happen to me neither.
One For The Dead
AND THEN WE WERE FIVE. Walking out of that little park that afternoon in the company of friends, I felt almost like being home. They were a strange assortment. They were like little boys in great big bodies, and I felt such a strong tug of motherhood in my chest it almost made me cry. I guess I’d never given myself the time to think about my lack of children, never allowed myself to consider how my life as a woman might have changed with motherhood or even whether the capacity for love within me was ever strong enough to make me fit for it. Right then, I knew. Right then, I knew for absolute certain that I could have loved enough to be a mother and raise happy, contented kids. Those boys walking beside me took me right back to the dusty, bush-lined roads of Big River and I felt like little Amelia again, with a heart full of love and a head full of dreams. Around us I saw the shadowed ones moving about in that moist spring air and I wondered how many lives had turned in that little space of green, how many fortunes had been altered through word or deed on that same bench we’d gathered at. Ours had. In whatever way Creation had desired for us, our lives had become something different with the energy of a simple choice. We would go to Granite’s home. We would sit in the space that he created for himself and we would share time. We would watch a movie and we would wait to see what motions we needed to go through to get the money that had been sent our way.
The money didn’t matter to me. It was still a dream. It was part of the invisible world and not yet here. What mattered was my boys. What mattered was the fact that we were all learning to be together and that we were willing to risk things we might never have risked before. Us, heading to a Square John’s home and a Square John inviting us there. The world widens incredibly sometimes. If you stay wakeful enough you can see it. The sky gets bigger at times like that, the light gets brighter and the wind blows harder, more insistently. Like Creation is heaving a huge breath so the new growing can take place. That’s what it felt like walking out of that park that afternoon. Like the world was heaving a big breath for us.
We piled into a cab, the four of us rounders scrunched up in the back while Granite sat in the front to direct the driver. It felt like a hayride or the feeling I used to get on the tail of the wagon with my brothers when we’d go to chop and gather wood on Big River. The boys elbowed each other for room and there was a lot of good-natured grumbling and jokes about the smell of feet, bad breath, and bony shoulders. Just like in days long gone, and I had to smile at the impact of this sudden gift, this vague returning.
When the cab pulled up in front of the building where Granite lived, I could feel all of us stiffen. It was a huge, pale pink building with lots of trees and bushes out front and a long curved walkway made of cobblestones leading to a set of big glass doors. There was a small room encased in glass before you got to the lobby where some grandfather-looking chairs sat in front of one of those fake fireplaces and a jungle of plants. Just the kind of place you learn to avoid when you live like us. A police call is made before your feet even get to those glass doors, and the boys and me felt nervous and anxious stepping out of the cab.
Granite led the way. I could see Digger looking quickly in each direction and back over his shoulder. Timber and Dick walked with their heads lowered like they wanted to sink into the cracks between the cobblestones. Me, I just walked behind Granite watching the world breathe.
We didn’t pass another person on the way into the building and didn’t see anyone all the way up in the elevator or in the hallway to Granite’s door. The air was different inside there, though. It didn’t move. It felt like you were walking through something in order to get anywhere. I could sense the walls around me. The boys were all eyeballs and Adam’s apples, their gaits more cautious, and I knew that they could feel the walls around them too. We were actually grateful, I think, when Granite opened his door and gestured us through.
It was marvellous. There were big windows in the ceiling where the light flowed in, and one entire wall was a window too. He had a fireplace that stood all by itself in the living room and it looked like a smaller version of the old stove in our house on the reserve. There were a lot of big plants around and even a tree in one corner whose branches spread out over a lot of the room. Dick gaped at the biggest television I think I ever saw and Timber was scrutinizing the shelves of books. Digger stood and looked at everything, nodding his head slowly. I liked it. There was so much light it was like being outside. It felt comfortable, but as I looked around I couldn’t help but wonder about the fact that
there weren’t any pictures of people anywhere around. There was art on the walls but no pictures of people, and as I watched Granite move around nervously, showing us where to hang our coats and directing us to the living room, I knew that he wasn’t that much different from the four of us. He was part of our ragged company despite the shimmer and glow of this space he lived in.
“I’ll pull chairs out of the den and you can all make yourselves comfortable on the couch and the armchair,” Granite said. “Digger, there’s a bar over there by the fireplace. The bottom doors in the bookcase. Help yourself.”
Digger nodded but he and the boys just walked slowly across the room and planted themselves on the couch. Digger dug his mickey out and took a drink before passing it along to Timber and Dick. They all stared around in silence while Granite brought two more velvet-covered armchairs from another room. When he was finished, he stood in the middle of the room looking about like it was the first time he’d seen the place too.
“Um, Dick,” he said eventually. “I’ve got a collection of movies here if you’d like to see them. Maybe you can pick one you want to watch.”
He walked over to a closed bookcase and opened the doors.
“Geez,” Dick said. “Them are all movies?”
He got up from the couch and walked over with Timber and Digger right behind him. The three of them stood in front of that bookcase just eyeballing the rows and rows of small cases on the shelves.
“The top shelves are drama. Mysteries are on the third shelf, some comedies and westerns on the fourth, and foreign-language films along the bottom,” Granite said. “Have a look.”
He handed Dick one of the movies and Dick’s face was full of amazement and pleasure. Timber and Digger leaned in and looked at it too.
“Geez,” Dick said. “It looks just like the movie posters outside the theatre. What does it say, Timber?”
“It says, The Deer Hunter,” Timber read.
“Wow. That sounds good, huh, Digger?”
“Could be,” Digger replied.
“Here’s one you might like, Digger,” Granite said, handing him a movie case.
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