A Boy at the Edge of the World

by David Kingston Yeh

  “Thank you. So do you.”

  “I smell like B.O., charcoal and wieners.”

  “Classic yet contemporary.”

  “I am the Hotdog King, I’ll have you know.”

  “You’ve been helping your brother out with this fundraiser?”

  “Here and there.”

  “You’re a good man, Daniel Garneau.”

  “I’ve been told that before.”

  Marwa looked past me, and we both watched as Marcus walked slowly but steadily down the path from the Island Café. He wore a sleeveless shirt with a colourful Yakuza print, and a pale leather satchel at his hip. He was clean-shaven and had cropped his hair military-style.

  “Hello, Marcus.”

  “Daniel.” He handed Marwa a drink. “It’s good to see you.”

  “No more cane?”

  “No more cane. It has been a long convalescence.”

  “I’m happy for you.”

  “Thank you for the invitation.”

  “Hey, thanks for coming. That’s a new look.”

  Marcus ran a hand over his shaved head. “Yes, I suppose it is. Do you think it is too austere?”

  “Austere? No, not with that shirt. You look good.”

  “Do I?”

  “You look great.”

  “Thank you. As do you.”

  Impulsively, awkwardly, I stepped in and gave Marcus a hug. “My brother’s in from Sudbury.”

  “This is your second brother, Liam?”

  “Liam. That’s right.”

  “The ‘wildman-of-the-woods.’”

  “Did I call him that?”

  “No, but Patrick has. Liam Garneau,” Marcus said to Marwa, “is Daniel’s brother who lives off the grid.”

  “He would if he could.” I smiled. “I think he tries his best.”

  “There you are,” David called out, approaching. “Hey, Marcus, how’s it going?”

  “I am well. It’s good to see you again, David.” He stroked Marwa’s cheek. “David, this is my very old and dear friend, Marwa.” He adjusted a bang that had fallen over her brow. “Marwa sometimes is my muse.” He raised a toast. “Here’s to the artistic process. I’ve brought a gift for the band. Are they about?”

  “Somewhere,” David said, draping his arm over my shoulder. “They’re scheduled to go back up in an hour.”

  “What’s this gift?” I asked.

  Marcus raised a finger to his lips. “It is a surprise. But let me show you.”

  He handed Marwa his drink, opened his satchel and withdrew a black T-shirt. Ceremoniously, he unfolded it and held it up, displaying the three-puppies logo David had designed.

  “Holy shit, dude!” David exclaimed. “That looks awesome!” He grabbed the shirt from Marcus’ hands. “When did you do this?”

  “I had thirty made up this morning. I’ve brought four for the band. And one for yourself.”

  “Thirty? Whoa. We have a budget for this?”

  “Like I said, these are a gift. When Three Dog Run wins their first Juno, I except a VIP pass to all their concerts.”

  “Fuckin A!” David laughed. He pulled his own T-shirt off over his head, and put the new one on. “What do you think?”

  “Here.” Marcus tucked in the tag sticking out of David’s collar, and rearranged the shirt on his shoulders. He patted his chest, and stood back appraisingly. “Beautiful.”

  “Very nice,” Marwa said.

  David glanced at me. I folded my arms and shrugged. “Looks great.”

  “Come on, let’s go find the band! They can wear these on stage tonight.”

  Marwa and I watched Marcus and David disappear into the crowd. “Your boyfriend,” she said, “he’s cute.”

  “Thanks. So are you.”

  “That’s sweet, Daniel.” She looked up at me sidelong, biting her lower lip. “You okay?”

  “Of course I am.” I drained my cup and tossed it into a nearby garbage can. “Why shouldn’t I be?”

  “Just asking.”

  “So how is Marcus?”

  “He’s working on a new project. He won a big Ontario Arts Council grant for it. It’s major. But he won’t tell me what it is.”

  “Oh?”

  “Ever since the accident, he’s been different. More secretive. He keeps to himself a lot these days.”

  I wanted to ask if he was seeing anyone, but all I said was: “He seems well.”

  “He isn’t seeing anyone, in case that’s what you’re wondering.”

  I caught myself reflected in Marwa’s enormous eyes. “Is he happy?” I asked.

  “Daniel. Marcus is never happy.”

  The ferry horn sounded last call before pulling out. “And how are you doing?”

  “I,” Marwa said, “have been baking cupcakes.”

  “Cupcakes?”

  “Mm-hm. Lots of them.” Marwa handed me her card. “I’ve even hired an assistant.”

  “Well.” The card was hot pink with delicate, swirling script. “Cherry Bomb Bakery. Impressive.”

  “Thank you.” Marwa performed a curtsey. “Everyone loves to eat, right? Who doesn’t love cupcakes?”

  “Who doesn’t love cupcakes.”

  Marwa looked in the direction Marcus had gone. “When he was in the hospital, I’d have him test my samples. Raspberry chocolate truffle was his favourite. I’d also bring him home-cooked meals, and take-out: Swiss Chalet, dark meat with extra dipping sauce.”

  “I know.”

  “He likes to tell people he’s vegan.”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  “His leg was hurting him by the time we got here. I told him he should’ve brought his cane, but he insisted he didn’t need it. I gave him something to help with the pain. Don’t tell him I told you.”

  “You still catering Marcus’ parties?”

  “I cater a lot of people’s parties. Is there anything I can get you?”

  “Out here?”

  “Try me.”

  “What are you, like a walking pharmacy?”

  “Does your boyfriend like to party?”

  “David? I think so.”

  “Look. Marcus is having a few people over tonight. Why don’t you and David join us? It’ll be fun.”

  My heart began to thud in my chest. I tried to sound casual. “I dunno.”

  “Why not? I’ll take care of you both. I promise.”

  “I know you will. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Daniel.”

  “Marwa, I like you. You’ve been really nice to me. It’s just that I don’t entirely trust myself. When I’ve been on favours, I’ve done things I’ve regretted.”

  “So we won’t get you high. Just come on over and have a few drinks with us. Are we that scary?” She bared her teeth and clawed at my chest.

  “No,” I said, laughing, “you’re not that scary.”

  “That’s too bad. I’ve always wanted to be scary. I always kind of thought of myself as a Wild Thing.”

  “Wild Thing?”

  “You know, from that children’s book.”

  “I can picture that. You, Marcus, Fang. Wild Things, definitely.”

  “Oh, Marcus, he’s not a Wild Thing, despite what people think. The truth is,” she whispered, “he’s just a boy.”

  “From Burlington.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I see.”

  “He really misses you, you know.”

  “Does he?”

  “Daniel, I’ve known Marcus his whole life. You had a big influence on him.”

  “I know. I’m the first person who’s ever asked him out. Woohoo. I suppose I’m also the only one who’s ever broken up with him too. Is that right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Bummer. Welcome to the real world.”

  “Daniel, why did you ask him out?”

  “My best friend, she put me up to it.”

  “Your best friend?”

  “Karen. She’s here tonight. I’ll introduce y
ou.”

  Marwa hooked her arm through mine, and we strolled along the waterfront. “Should I be jealous?”

  “Karen and I grew up across the street from each other. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

  “I’m jealous.”

  “You and Marcus grew up together.”

  “That’s true. I remember Marcus, he was this skinny, nervous, excitable boy. He was sick all the time. He’d get these nose bleeds that would land him in the hospital for days. It was awful. He used to get teased and beat up a lot.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “I was his only friend. He used to stage private performances just for me. I’ve lost track of the number of Marcus Wittenbrink Jr. world premieres I’ve attended.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “It was. For the both of us. His parents didn’t approve of me. They were these big shot lawyers, see. Back then, I was this sketchy goth chick. They took one look at me and figured I was bad news.”

  “And were you?”

  Marwa giggled. “Of course I was.”

  “I’ve met his parents.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Look, Marcus hates talking about his past. Don’t tell him I told you all this.”

  “He’s lucky to have you.”

  “Well, we’re a lot of things to each other.” Marwa picked up a piece of driftwood and, with surprising force, hurled it overhand across the lake. “Except, I wouldn’t call him my best friend.”

  “No?”

  “No.” Her eyes sparkled. “I wouldn’t.”

  “What would you call him then?”

  “Oh, that’s easy.” Marwa smiled up at me wistfully. “Marcus, he’s leader of the wild rumpus. He’s Max, King of All Wild Things.”

  Just before Three Dog Run was to take the stage, I found myself waiting outside the single-occupancy washroom at the back of the WIA Club House. When the door finally opened, to my surprise I encountered Parker emerging hand in hand with Kyle. “Oh,” Parker blurted, “Daniel.” I could’ve sworn I saw him blush. “Daniel, this is Kyle. Kyle, this is my friend Daniel.”

  “Hey Kyle, nice hat.”

  Kyle, who looked like a shaggy Christopher Robin with facial hair, smiled shyly. “Thanks.”

  “Parker,” I said, “what’s a DILF?”

  “A DILF? That’s a Dad I’d Like to Fuck. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, okay, thanks. That makes sense.” I clapped them both on the shoulders. “You guys having a good time?” Both nodded. “Parker,” I said, pointing, “you’re flying low. Excuse me.” I squeezed past them and closed the door behind me. I stood over the toilet pissing for what seemed like a whole minute. After that, I soaked a handful of paper towels in cold water and wiped down my neck and armpits. I wished I’d brought my deodorant. When I finally stepped out, Marcus was waiting. “Oh, hey.”

  “Care for a bump?”

  “What?”

  He held up a tiny Ziploc bag of white powder. Fang had always been the cokehead when the three of us were together. I glanced around nervously. Marcus squeezed past me. His hand rested on the doorknob. “You coming?”

  I followed Marcus back in and he bolted the door. The washroom was cramped enough for one. I did my best not to press myself up against him. Marcus spent some time crushing the contents of the bag with his lighter against the edge of the sink. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” I finally said, “but can we hurry this up?”

  Marcus regarded me mildly. “Now that just sounds ungrateful.”

  “Marcus.”

  “David did a good job with the logo.”

  I nodded. “You pay for those shirts yourself?”

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I used to be like them. Because I’ve been fortunate to have had people believe in me and support me along the way. Now that I’ve achieved some modicum of success, it’s good to be able to give something back. Here.” He’d dipped the end of a key into the bag and held it out for me.

  I opened and closed my mouth. Finally, I leaned over and snorted the bump. After that, Marcus helped himself. “Is that the only reason?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why Pat and his band? Why them? Thirty T-shirts? C’mon. You barely even know them.”

  “What do you want me to say, Daniel? Because Patrick reminds me of you?”

  “Pat’s not like me at all.”

  “That’s right. Patrick’s his own person, as are Dawn and Rodrigo and Robert.” Marcus helped himself to a second bump, sniffed, and held out the key.

  “No,” I said. “No thanks.”

  “If it bothers you that much, give the word and I’ll walk away. I’ll take back the T-shirts. I won’t talk to them again. Ever. Will that make you happy? Is that what you want? Because I’ll do it.”

  “What? No.”

  “Then what is it, Daniel? Tell me, what is it?”

  “I’m with David now.”

  “I know that.”

  “Are you sure you know that?”

  “Daniel, don’t be arrogant. It’s not becoming.”

  “Do you really, honestly think I’m being arrogant right now?”

  “No, I suppose not,” Marcus said, his gaze downcast. “My apologies.”

  “But you think I’m being an asshole.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you’re thinking it.”

  “You can choose to believe that if you wish.”

  I reached for the door. “We’re done here.”

  “Did you ever care for me?”

  “What?”

  “Did you ever,” Marcus said, “care for me at all?”

  “What the hell sort of question is that?”

  “It’s just that you seemed to be able to walk away from us so easily.”

  “You and Fang seemed to be getting along just fine.”

  “I didn’t mean Fang and me. I meant you and me, the two of us. When those elevator doors closed, you just seemed so cold and far away. You just didn’t seem to care at all.”

  “What? What? Are you kidding? Are you, are you like kidding me?” I backed up, banging my head painfully against the towel dispenser. “Marcus, you were the one who kept pushing and pushing. You knew I wasn’t into the threesome thing, but you kept pushing.”

  “Fang is a good person.”

  “This isn’t about Fang!” I shouted. “This is about you and me, and what we meant to each other. We were supposed to be partners, we were supposed to be boyfriends. What happened on New Year’s Eve was a mistake, a stupid mistake. But that’s all it was. I didn’t plan for it to happen. You were the one who took it and ran with it! I know you think I’m this, I’m this imbecile living in the Stone Age, but I happen to like the idea of being boyfriends. I am so sorry I’m not as enlightened as you are, but some people just aren’t cut out for your New Age bullshit excuse for fucking around with whoever you happen to get a hard-on for. That’s what I walked away from. For the record, I loved us. I loved us, Marcus. But the two of us just wasn’t good enough for you, or maybe it was too scary for you. Real relationships, the real ones that mean something, they’re scary, they’re fucking scary as hell. You were the one who shut down. You were the one who walked away from us.” I scrabbled at the bolt. When the door swung open, I half fell out of the washroom. On the far side of the Club House, Three Dog Run launched into their opening number, an energetic cover of a Sam Roberts tune.

  I strode away without looking back, trying not to break into a run. Then I did break into a run. Rounding the building, I searched the crowd for David. Eventually, I spotted Karen towards the back, sitting comfortably up in the nook of a tree. “Where’s David?” I asked.

  “I thought he was with you. You okay?”

  “Yeah. I just need to find David. Where’s Liam?”

  “He went for a walk. Jackson was getting a little spooked. Daniel, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” I clutched my head
. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Daniel, you’re crying.” She jumped down from the tree. “What’s wrong?”

  I started to back away. “I gotta go.”

  “Go where?”

  “I’m going to find David, alright?”

  “Oh my god, you’re bleeding.”

  There was blood on my hand. I touched the back of my head and my fingers came away wet. “Shit.” On stage, Pat flailed at his guitar, craning his neck over the mic. The audience was on its feet. Karen took me by the hand and led me away to the nearby soccer field. I kept insisting, “Karen, it’s nothing. It’s just a scratch. I’m fine. Seriously.”

  She sat me down in the middle of the field, soaked a napkin with a water bottle and dabbed at my scalp. “What happened?”

  “I got into a fight with Marcus.”

  “You didn’t hurt him, did you?”

  “What? No! Not, like, no we weren’t fighting. We were just arguing and I must’ve hit my head. Look, I didn’t even notice until you pointed it out.” I pulled out my phone, called David, got his voice mail and hung up. Then I tried again and left a message: “David, it’s me. Call me back.”

  “Well,” Karen said, “it doesn’t look too bad. What were you fighting about?”

  “Us. Why we broke up.”

  “Daniel, you and Marcus broke up over two years ago.”

  “I know.”

  “For real?”

  “I know. It’s fucked up. You’d think we’d be over each other by now. And the craziest thing is that David seems to like the guy. I mean, what’s not to like, right?”

  “Marcus can be charismatic. Here, hold this.” Karen had me press a fresh napkin against the back of my head.

  “Would you ever talk to David about this?”

  “Oh, David talks about Marcus all the time.”

  Karen frowned. “Really?”

  “I know. I mean, what kind of boyfriend keeps talking about your ex-boyfriend? Like, I mean, who does that, for chrissake? Sometimes, I think David wants to sleep with the guy.”

  “Does he?”

  “I don’t know. He’s convinced I do.”

  “Is David the jealous type?”

  “No. In fact, he’s the opposite. That’s what makes everything so weird.”

  “So do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Do you still want to sleep with Marcus?”