by Kate Sten
Driven by the strength of the libation he had drowned himself in, he marched straight to his car and drove half-drunk to his ex-wife’s home. She had not been expecting him and he had not arranged to have his boy at his place either.
‘Patrick! I want to see Patrick!’ Barry's fist thumped on the gleaming green door in front of him.
‘Get lost and go sober up! Jesus Christ, Barry tell me you didn’t drive here completely wasted!’ Phillipa popped her head out of the window, a cross expression plastered on her face.
‘So what if I did? I just want to see my boy! That waste of space you’ve shacked up with gets to spend time with our Patrick and I don’t? How the fuck is that fair?’ Barry staggered about in front of Phillipa's house, or what used to be Barry's home before he got kicked out.
‘He is ten times the dad you will ever be Barry. You threw Louie at me. Who the fuck throws a cat at someone? My new fella has got a heart, Barry. You have got nothing but a bottomless pit in that chest of yours. It sucks the life out of everything. Danny - he writes me poems and holds the door open for me. All you ever loved was that job of yours and the bottle. There isn't really any room in your world for anyone else but yourself. Get a shrink to shrink the shrink, Barry. Get help. I don’t want to call the cops on you but I will if you do not get off my property,’ Phillipa threatened.
Barry grunted and spat, then took wobbly steps towards the car he had parked halfway up a kerb. He raised his face and narrowed his eyelids, beaming his best sympathy look at her. But she was not having that. She was hardened to his antics, having lived with everything he put her through throughout the entire ten years they had been together.
Barry knew his shit stank - It stank bad.
There was no way that he would be seeing his boy that day or any other day soon unless he managed to find the guts to kick the bottle into a gutter somehow. He knew it would have been easier for him to fall into that the mucky sewers than to let go of the thing that was dragging him down quicker than he could swim.
‘Bloody twats, sucking then blood from decent working class people with this fraud. I will not be coughing up for that.’ Barry struggled with his keys, cursing at the parking ticket that had been conveniently placed under his wiper. ‘They can sod off! The lot of them!’
Red-faced and in a terrible mood, Barry dragged his limp legs into the car. He tried several times to get the key into the ignition but blurry vision made that task an impossible feat to achieve. Crippling pangs surged through his head - The headaches had started to get worse.
‘Where are those damn pills when you need them?’ His hands pulled at the glove compartment.
He knew where that was by instinct, his eyes playing no part in seeking out the aspirin sachet that had been tucked away, underneath a small pile of car insurance documents. He shoved a fist full of pills down him and washed them down with neat vodka. If he wasn’t fully drunk before, he was certainly stupefied by the alcohol now, his mouth agape and the eyes in his face catatonic. His head fell to one side as blackness covered his eyes.
TWENTY ONE
JOHN
Henry had taken charge of the wheels, driving us in his metallic-colored, beat-down truck. He had turned the key in the ignition more times than I cared to count to get the damn thing started. He could have had the engine fixed but he was one of those guys that liked to rip the guts out of things. He had fiddled with spark plugs and the fuel filters, basically pulling out everything he could get his hands on.
After all that tinkering, the hunk of metal was finally moving. I strapped myself in behind Molly and Henry. Their arms locked and there was this exchange of warm fuzziness between them. The red glow on Molly's cheeks certainly indicated that she was happy to be held by him in that way.
Me - I just had to sit back and watch them make goo-goo eyes at each other throughout the ride. Even when I took a peek out of the window, hoping to see something other than the two lovebirds being mushy with each other, there they were, reflected in the face of the mirror - kissing each others hands.
I could have easily thrown up in my own mouth if I had not been made out of sterner stuff. There was no getting away from their ridiculous displays of glowing warmth towards themselves. That bit of trivia registered very quickly in my head so I did the only thing that I could which was to plug my ears with headphones and slot the headphone jack into an iPod.
The sound of Nickel back's guitar strumming drowned them out. I could not hear their rancid profession of love for each other anymore. There was nothing but bliss washing over me and I reveled in that.
I pushed a broad smile up on my face and soon sank into deep slumber.
‘Hey, sleepy head! You are going to miss the whole thing if you don’t wake up!’ Molly nudged me on the arm.
‘What? How did I get here?’ I wiped my eyes twice in disbelief.
‘Henry carried you. Sorry about that. We thought it would be best not to disturb you. Especially, when you looked so serene in your sleep. That was like the cutest smile I have ever seen.’ Molly brandished her phone in front of my face showing me a picture of myself looking chilled and sporting a slightly constipated grin on my face.
How dare she make a mug out of me while I was asleep?
No doubt she would have wanted to share those images of me with her chatbook friends or her work colleagues at Big Ron's Bistro. It was an eclectic place with light bulbs hanging down from the ceiling and raised wooden stools. There was also a Scandinavian feel to the decor. I recall having a big mac and cheese there. It was divine and the buttery cheese melted on my tongue.
‘They look awesome, don’t they - the fire eaters?’ Molly pointed to the bare-chested men throwing flames in the air, and then making the fire on the torches disappear down the crevice of their widened lips.
My arms were folded and I was saddled with acrimonious feelings towards her for the indignity of the photos she had taken of me. All that huff gradually dissipated when I pushed my head forward to catch a glimpse of the fire eaters, my transfixed eyes eagerly taking in the unbelievable things they were doing with the torches in their hands.
The act was nothing short of mesmerizing. I sat still with euphoria pumping fast in my veins. Knuckles pressed under my chin, my eyes rolled from side to side, trailing the movements of the fire eaters as they moved up and down the centre stage.
‘Watch out for the big one! Here it comes!’ Molly laughed hysterically, slapping me on the back with her palm.
‘Five, four, three, two, one…’ We counted in unison, hands locked tightly together as we watched the fire eaters blow the fire out to create one big spit fire that rose up vertically, fanning out into open space.
There was a thunderous applause as the fire eating group bowed to the roaring of their bespectacled audience. They were clearly preaching to the converted. Most people that were there had been coming for years, or been brought to such displays all their lives by a grandparent, or somebody that had a passion for such antiquated things.
The ringmistress strode out, walking on stilt-like heels, her back leaning backwards and her hands firmly encircled round her hip. Long ringlets of dark hair hung down the sides of her face and her eyes shun more brilliantly than the bright spotlights that flooded the centre stage on her emergence from the backstage.
‘Are we all entertained?’ She howled into the thick mike in her gloved hand, pausing briefly for a response from the gallery.
‘Yes!’ A faint cacophony of voices bounded back at her.
‘That is not pathetic! Pathetic I say! My grandma could shout louder than that! Come on people, you are killing me!’ Her thick Irish accent permeated the ears of the audience, willing them to ramp up the screams.
I saw Henry wrap his fist into a ball, his eyes narrow and his breath deep like someone deeply focused on something. He looked at the curly-haired woman at the centre of the stage as though he had some recollection of her, as if he had met her before. From the way he exposed his teeth and seethed,
you would have got the impression that such circumstances - if they existed - would have been unpleasant.
‘Hey! You look distant, honey! Has something upset you?’ Molly rubbed his arm, throwing herself in front of him.
‘Na! Its nothing. I just zoned out for a minute, that's all.’ Henry clutched Molly's hand and stroked it gently, his eyes looking straight at her, projecting reassuring calm into her.
‘Okay. I shall ask one more time! Are you the lot of you entertained?’ The ringmistress's voice exploded into the air.
A rapturous ‘Yes’ rang loud, almost bringing down the makeshift roof above our heads. With that said, the ringmistress pushed the mike closer to her red lush lips. ‘Then allow me to introduce the act you have all been waiting for - the one, the only Flying mongoose.’
Thunderous claps followed her announcement. I almost jumped to the edge of my seat, eyes laser-focused on the curtains behind her. She duffed her enormous hat, signaling for the curtains to be unfurled.
Out came the trapeze act - a family of two girls and a mom and dad. They climbed up adjoining ladders and headed up to breathtaking heights. There was a leap and then a somersault, as feet and hands sliced through naked air. Their dexterity just left my jaw agape. There were no words for the magical gliding that was unfolding in front of me and the hundreds of other people that had filled the gallery that day.
‘Magical. Just magical,’ I giggled with a glint in my eyes.
The crescendo ended with one of the girls making a big dive through the air, leaping from her mothers grip, her eyes ecstatic and afraid all at once. She could have easily crashed to earth, and broken a few ribs, or even snapped her neck. Pavement pizza would have been the appropriate metaphor to have described such a mishap.
My heart crawled up my chest for a split second when the girl's hand reached for her dad's, her finger tips nearly touching his, nearly missing it by inches. Decorum returned to me only when her father grabbed her by the wrist. A breath of fresh air whizzed across the gallery, people hiding their lips behind their hands as relief and elation rushed straight through them.
That was a good day - the best I could remember in a long long time.
TWENTY TWO
JOHN
It was an uneventful Saturday morning, and Henry laid all stretched out on the sofa, his eyes impatiently scanning the surface of the shiny Rolex watch on his left hand. The TV was on but he wasn’t showing the slightest interest in the morning broadcast. The sports channel was more his thing. He was football mad like most of the male clan in Eastwood.
‘Do you think I look good in this?’ Molly twirled around, his inspecting eyes taking in the vision of her.
‘You know you always look amazing. Do you even need to ask?’ Henry coughed.
‘I bet you are just telling me whatever I need to hear so you don’t have to be mithered about boring details of something like a woman's dress.’ She folded her hands in front of him and stomped her feet hard.
Henry sensing her agitation, jumped to his feet and ensconced himself behind her, his hands stroking her face tenderly. She purred and grumbled under her breath. She was in one of her false bad moods at him. But he had begun to work out a way to pacify her and somehow get himself on her good side.
‘Do you think she will like me? Your mother that is?’ She spoke softly with some concern on her face.
Henry looked away from her for a brief moment as if to consider his words carefully. He did not want to create some false hope by conjuring falsehoods and he did not want to upset her by feeding her the undiluted truth. He wanted to be gentle to her with his words. He was always gentle with her.
‘She is not exactly Cruella but she does have her own set of standards which I believe you would totally meet without the slightest hiccup. Underneath all the ballsy grit that the woman exudes, she is mostly just human like the rest of us. She was tough on me growing up. She took no nonsense from most people but she was never cruel in any of the things that she did. She always only ever wanted the best for me and that is why I believe she is the best mom I could possibly have.” Henry twirled Molly around, drawing her into a stifling embrace.
She tried to speak but his lips covered hers and there was just soft moaning between the two consenting adults in the room.
I could scantily hold my revulsion at them canoodling like that in front of me. They were supposed to be more reserved than that. They were supposed not to do icky stuff like that - not in front of me anyway.
The door bell soon came to the rescue of my burning eyes and rosy cheeks. I had distracted myself with an old jigsaw puzzle which I was trying so desperately to piece together, assuming the distraction from Molly and Henry's horsing around did not irritate me as much as it did.
I raced to the door without looking behind me for a nod of approval from the distracted adults in the house. My heart thumped with anticipation. I knew who we were meant to be meeting that day. The august visitor was all we had talked about for weeks. Now, that person was here.
My hand gripped the door handle and latch, rolling it back and letting the door push towards me.
‘Hello, young man!’ a familiar voice greeted me, her eyes straining to catch a fuller glimpse of me.
‘John? I had no idea you were acquainted with my Henry!’ Her shell-shocked face nearly flinched, as she uttered the words.
‘Doctor Salter?’ I screeched, my eyes agape.
I was every bit as astonished as she was. She wasn’t the best person to share a room with but I managed to get on with her. She was an imposing woman and those ever observant orbs on her face just made you feel completely disrobed in front of her.
‘You might as well lead the way, young master John,’ she urged me stretching out her hand to take mine.
I obliged her request and allowed her in, leading her to the living room where Henry and Molly were still casually nibbling each others faces. They had not seen or heard me bring doctor Salter into Henry's home.
We were at his place. Our own home was freezing cold and needed repairs after the incident with the scraggy home invader. We didn’t quite find out what happened to him. We didn’t care to. We were both in a new chapter of our lives with Henry and we were both enjoying every minute of it, with Molly more deeply invested than I was, obviously.
‘Ahem!’ Doctor Salter coughed sarcastically.
‘Doctor Salter!’ Molly's eyes gaped in complete bafflement, a stupefied look flashing on her alarmed face.
‘Mom, you are early? You are never early!’ Henry tore himself from Molly and wiped his lips several times as if to rewind time and undo what his mom had just witnessed. ‘How long have you been stood there?’
‘Long enough to see how smitten you are by this one. I can see she has you tightly in her thrall. Let's hope you are not too bedazzled to say hello to your old mom.’ Doctor Salter threw both hands in the air expectantly.
Henry smiled at her and flew right into her embrace, nearly knocking her glasses off her face. He kissed her on the cheek and she did the same to him. They remained in their ritualistic hugging position for a good solid five minutes - I had my eyes on the clock.
Molly had her face to the ground, a bit embarrassed and red-faced from being caught in a compromising position by her to-be mother-in-law. She seemed to feel as though she had been cast into the backgrounds while Doctor Salter hogged the limelight.
‘Doctor Salter? Would you like something to drink? Some tea or coffee? Do you have it decaff or caffeinated?’ Molly rambled on, avoiding direct eye contact with her boyfriend's mother.
‘You can call me Grace. And contrary to belief, mother-in-laws are not fire breathing dragons to be avoided at every turn.’ Doctor Salter shot a penetrating gaze at Molly.
Her reassuring words did not cause the chips to suddenly fall off Molly's shoulders. In fact, her movement had become more calculated and robotic. She had taken what was said by Henry's mother to be a warning salvo and basically made sure to check that every i an
d t where dotted and crossed.
She had no intentions of getting any little detail wrong. Her eyes were sharp and her wits even more attuned.
‘Okay Grace, are you a coffee or tea drinker?’ She forced a smile on her face and addressed Doctor Salter in a less formal but respectful manner.
‘Oh Goodness, I have had too much latte to last a life time. The side effects still keep me half-awake at night. I like the bitter but I loathe the caffeine. So decaff it shall be.’ Doctor Salter returned Molly's smile.
Molly nodded and trotted off into the kitchen to fix a drink, leaving mother and son to have the much needed catch up chat that they needed. She did not notice but Henry's watchful eyes trailed her while she was escaping the overwhelming presence of her boyfriend's mother.
She was the woman that she may soon come to call In-law but could scarcely bare to stomach. She could barely tolerate small doses of the woman when there was no kinship involved. Now, she was having to welcome her into her boyfriend's home and roll out the red carpet for her as well.
She nervously slammed a green mug on the table, the veins on the side of her face protruding as acrimonious feelings swept through her fingertips. She could barely manage to hold the spoon which she was going to use to stir the milk.
Had she put too much in? Did she just need a dash of it? What if mother-in-law to be thought the decaff tasted vile?
Decaff? She had forgotten that Doctor Salter abhorred caffeine in her coffee and would not abide it.
‘Shit! Shit! Shit!’ Molly swore repeatedly as she tossed the fully caffeinated coffee down the sink, her palms sweaty and her mind fragmented and unfocused.
‘Are you okay?’ I looked up at Molly, beaming a sympathetic gaze at her.
‘Oh John! I didn’t hear you walk in. You must be picking that up from Henry. He scares the crap out of me when he does that.’ Molly rubbed her chest with her palm, relief returning to her reddened face.