Until It's Time To Go

by Connie Bailey

  Fourteen useless months after Steve’s death, Isaac was sick of everything in his life, both professionally and personally. He took jobs and lost them for not meeting deadlines. He forgot appointments. He just lost track of time and didn’t care about the consequences. He had no interest in his life without Steve and went seeking a new one. He packed the cat and a few necessities into the Volvo Amazon he’d bought from Janelle and headed north. It wasn’t an abrupt decision. His few friends and former colleagues knew when he was going, but no one knew where he was going. All they knew for sure was that he wasn’t happy where he was.

  His life fell into a pattern of taking odd jobs in small towns and staying until the place became familiar. Once he’d learned the streets, patronized the businesses, and garnered a certain number of acquaintances, the location lost all charm for him. What was commonplace was not distracting, and he needed a lot of distraction to get through the days. The nights could reliably be left to his old friend alcohol.

  The consuming sense of loss and guilt made things like food, money, and sex seem irrelevant, and it was a nuisance to find he still needed them. Obtaining these comforts inevitably led to interaction with other humans, but Isaac was adept at keeping such exchanges to a minimum. He left few conversational openings and brusquely discouraged others from doing so. Cashiers learned to total his items, hand him his change, and limit themselves to the obligatory “have a nice day” farewell as he was walking away. Customers of the businesses he worked for never complained about a lack of professionalism or competency, but neither was he praised to the boss. People just didn’t warm up to him, and that’s exactly how he wanted it. Even the few hustlers he paid to suck him off remarked on his detachment, and the spaces between his need for sexual contact grew longer until they blended into a dull abstinence.

  Isaac could almost feel the seconds passing like sleepwalking ants crawling over his skin as he pumped gas, rented a canoe to a tourist, or delivered a platter of cheeseburgers and fries. He gave full concentration to each task, no matter how routine or mundane, dispatching each with brisk efficiency that didn’t invite idle chitchat. He did his job and looked forward to the moment he could sit down in his current residence and take the first sip of the first drink of the day. No mere amateur, he knew how to pace his consumption of alcohol so that he didn’t drink up the self-imposed limit too quickly. With the television on but muted, he drank steadily and fought to keep his mind from replaying Steve’s last day over and over.

  Though Isaac knew he couldn’t change the past, his brain insisted on building endless alternate versions of the morning Steve died. Unless he muddled his thoughts with booze, he’d lie awake all night replaying the events, trying to find a way to change them. The last word Steve heard from his lips was “asshole.” If he could just take one thing back, it would be that. This was the point when the tears came if they were going to, and they usually did. The point when he railed at fate, God, and the world for unfairness. He grew more and more bitter, and no change of scenery affected his mood in the least.

  He was the same man no matter where he was standing, and he couldn’t outrun his grief and outrage at fortune’s betrayal, so he stopped. He would later claim that Punkin had begged him to return to Laurel Canyon so the Creature could live out his golden years in comfort.

  Not much had changed in four years, and not much changed in six more. Isaac called the realty company that maintained his property and told them he was back. He settled in and picked up enough rewrite work from his new agency to make a comfortable living as a script doctor, and he still hadn’t spent a dime of the payout on Steve’s life insurance policy. He rarely left the house, never invited anyone over, and gradually faded from people’s lives more completely than when he’d been on the road.

  Chapter 1

  IT HAD been ten years since Steve’s death, but he was still the first thing Isaac thought of when the phone interrupted his breakfast. He grabbed it off the counter and put it to his ear. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Zevin? Mr. Isaac Zevin?”

  “Yes, you’ve found me, God knows how. Since I don’t know you, you shouldn’t have this number. Who is this and why aren’t you talking to the agency?”

  “My name’s Callista Murray. I’m calling on behalf of Tony Kendall.”

  “This isn’t funny.”

  “I never joke when I’m head-hunting, Mr. Zevin. Now, you are the Isaac Zevin who wrote All About Adam and Pillowside, right?”

  “A long time ago in a galaxy far away.”

  “But you’re still writing. You’ve produced several things this year.”

  “So has your average female cat.”

  “I’ve always been a fan of your biting wit. Are you interested in working with Tony?”

  “Just what do you do for him?”

  “I’m his assistant director. I asked if I could be the one to call you.”

  “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  “I used to live two houses down from you. My maiden name was Meier.”

  “Callie Meier. Of course I remember you. I’d ask how you are, but since you’re working in Hollywood, I’ll assume you’re overworked, stressed out, and malnourished.”

  “Wow, you’re just blowing my mind with your cynicism, but why don’t you save it for the script?”

  Isaac paused. He wasn’t used to having his sarcasm fielded and returned so casually. “How old are you now?”

  “Twenty-two. So… are you interested?”

  “In writing a script?”

  “Well I didn’t mean in me.”

  “I usually say no right away, but you’ve made me curious.”

  “I hope that means you’ll meet with us.”

  “Can you come to the house?”

  “You still live in the same place?”

  “Yep.”

  “No problem. I can find it. How’s tomorrow around one sound to you?”

  “Fine.” Isaac hesitated and then plunged ahead. As much as he hated human contact, Callie was a connection to Steve. “I lost touch with your family when I took my long vacation. When I moved back home, I went by your house, but it was for sale.”

  “Mom and Dad got divorced right after you left. He went to live in Hong Kong, and she took her own long vacation with my grandparents in Florida. She changed a lot, found a rich guy as quick as she could, and went on an endless cruise. I graduated from a private school in Miami.”

  “Okay, that’s enough. I said I was curious, not writing your biography. And eat before you come here. I’m not feeding you.”

  “Why don’t I bring lunch?”

  “Because you don’t have any idea what I’ll want to eat tomorrow.”

  “I’ll bring barbecue pizza and a sixer of Modelo Especial. One sharp.”

  “I’m not promising anything,” Isaac said.

  “Promises are like checks. They’re no good until you cash them.”

  “With a philosophy like that, you’ll do well in the film business.”

  Callie chuckled. “I certainly hope so. See you tomorrow.”

  Isaac hung up and looked at Punkin, who was sitting on the counter with his paws tucked into his chest. The enormous orange cat blinked jade green eyes in complete apathy. “Are you really sitting on my toast and eggs, Creature?” Isaac asked.

  Punkin glanced at the table, and Isaac remembered he’d moved his breakfast before answering the phone. “I’m losing it,” he told the cat.

  Punkin didn’t react to the information. It was no news to him that his human was batshit crazy.

  “And we’re having company tomorrow.”

  Punkin lifted a paw, examined it, and gave it a lick.

  “Yeah, I guess I should tidy things up a little.”

  The phone rang and Isaac glared at it. “What the fuck is going on today? Why am I Mr. Popular all of a sudden?”

  Punkin jumped down from the counter and went into the living room.

  “I don’t blame you,” Isaac said as he answere
d the phone.

  “Hi,” Janelle said. “Just like your period, I show up once a month.”

  “I never get tired of hearing that one.”

  “So how are you?”

  “I’m doing fine, and you?”

  “As well as can be expected with a teenager in the house.”

  “I’m happy to say I’ve no idea what that’s like.”

  “Because you never come to visit.”

  “I’m not the one that moved to Steamboat Springs.”

  “Colorado is not that far away, and it’s not like you have a job that ties you down. You can work anywhere you can take your wife.”

  “I used to think it was cute when you called my laptop my wife.”

  “Seriously, why don’t you come out for the Fourth. We’re going to have some awesome fireworks.”

  “When is that?”

  “The Fourth of July? It’s on the fourth. Of July.”

  “I mean how far away? In days, not miles.”

  “Jesus, Isaac. Do you really not know what day it is?”

  “I’m proud to say that I don’t know what day it is. Or what date for that matter.”

  “I should never have moved so far away.”

  “Hey, it’s always been your dream to move to Steamboat and be a ski bunny.”

  “Ski bum.”

  “Are you cursing at me in Esperanto?”

  Janelle chuckled. “At least you still have a sense of humor… of sorts. It keeps me from worrying so much.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t worry about me.”

  “It’s not up to you. I’m your friend so I worry. That’s how it works.”

  “Well then, I wish you’d believe me when I tell you I’m fine.”

  “You’re fine? Really? Try telling that to someone that didn’t see Xenomorpheus vs. Sharkraptor. What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking that thirty thousand dollars would fit nicely in the hole in my bank account. It took me less than three weeks to write that script.”

  “It shows.”

  “Ouch.”

  “You break my heart, Zee.”

  “I don’t mean to.”

  “You were my first love, did you know that?”

  Isaac cleared his throat. “I guess I kind of did.”

  “I thought you were that prince they kept telling me would come someday. You were so cute and so nice and so smart. I know we’re both gay, but when I was thirteen, I loved you with all my heart. And I’ll always care about you. So be careful, okay?”

  “I am being careful, believe me.”

  “What does that mean? Because I’m picturing you holed up alone in your house with no human contact except for the pizza guy.”

  “It’s not that bad. I go grocery shopping, for fuck’s sake.”

  “Ever check anyone out at the checkout?”

  “Why don’t you just ask me if I’m seeing someone?”

  “Well, are you?”

  “Nope. It’s still the same story. Once in a while, I see a guy and I have a few random thoughts about what I’d like to do to him, but when I start trying to imagine how I’d approach him, it all falls apart.”

  “So are you jerking off thirty times a day or what?”

  “This is just between us, but I don’t seem to have the drive that I used to.”

  “Tell me the truth. Don’t just blow me off like you usually do when I ask. Have you been with anyone since Steve?”

  “There were a few one-night stands. Nothing to talk about. Just tricks, really… and maybe a few hustlers.”

  “You were careful, right?”

  “Of course I was. You know my motto. If it’s moist and it’s not yours….”

  “Don’t touch it,” Janelle finished the familiar phrase. “I know. I know. I also know how easy it is to get carried away in the heat of the moment.”

  “That’s because you’re a big slut, Mommy.”

  “That’s funny. I lectured Laith a couple of days ago for calling someone a slut.”

  “Was it me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then I’m not interested. How’s Kylie?”

  “She’s good. She still thinks skiing is for people who think casts are sexy, but her yoga school has really taken off. We finally found the right space for a studio near the co-op and the day care center. I take over classes for her on Wednesdays so she can have a day off, and I work some hours at the day care when I’m not on the slopes.”

  “Sounds like Alice in Lezland. I’m glad you guys are happy.”

  “I wish Laith would take school a little more seriously, but other than that, yeah, we’re happy.”

  Isaac pondered a moment, told himself not to say anything, and then said something anyway. “I got a kind of strange call a little while ago.”

  “Strange? Strange how? Like obscene strange?”

  “No. It was a job offer, actually. The strange part is who was making the offer.”

  “Just tell me, okay?”

  “Tony Kendall wants to talk to me.”

  “Are you shitting me? That’s like an episode of Twilight Zone.”

  “I know. Can you believe I get a call from him out of the blue?”

  “He’s such a big deal now. He’s even got an Oscar.”

  “That’s not the weirdest part. His AD called me, and she turns out to be Callie Meier, the little girl who lived down the street. Her mom was the one who found Steve and took him to the emergency room.”

  “Weird how certain people keep crossing our path. I wonder sometimes if there’s a reason they’re drawn back to us.”

  “Don’t go all hippie-mystical on me. You promised me when you moved to Steamboat that you wouldn’t do that.”

  “Do I belittle your choice of lifestyle?”

  “At least once a month, just like my period.”

  “Well, try not to be such a bitch.”

  “You think this is bitchy? Nelle, I can’t talk to anyone but you for more than ten minutes without wanting to throttle them. The things most people yak about are evenly divided between trivial crap and self-glorifying crap, sometimes both at once.”

  Janelle countered Isaac’s cynicism with an invitation. “Come for a visit. We’d love to see you. It’s been at least two years since we were in the same room.”

  “I’ll let you know, okay?”

  “Sure.” There was a short pause before Janelle spoke again. “How’s the Creature?”

  “I think I’m going to have to put him on a diet. He’s huge. He actually looks like a pumpkin. On Halloween, I’m going to take a Magic Marker and turn him into a jack-o’-lantern.”

  Janelle giggled. “Don’t forget that payback is a bitch and so is Punkin.”

  “Nah, not really. He’s a little snooty, but since he’s so much smarter than me, I guess he’s entitled to feel superior.”

  “No doubt. And if he’s really overweight, you should put him on a diet. He’s ten years old. He doesn’t need obesity shortening his life.”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to the vet about it,” Isaac said quickly. “New subject.”

  “I don’t have a lot of news. In my spare time, I’ve been doing things like planting tomatoes and being Laith’s chauffeur. My life is boring, and I love it.”

  “Doesn’t Laith have a driver’s license?”

  “He has his learner’s permit, so I have to be in the car with him. It’s quite a sore point that he can’t get his license until he completes the driver education course.”

  “He’ll live.”

  “That’s my plan.”

  “I should go now. I have a couple of deadlines to meet. That’s my thing now, remember? Deadlines equal paychecks.”

  “You need a friend.”

  “I’ve got you, babe.”

  “You need someone in your life.”

  “Just so they can leave? No thanks.”

  “That’s what people do, Zee. All of us. We’re here for a while, and then it’s time for us to go.”


  “I don’t like how it feels when I get left behind. I know you’re saying this because you care, but this is what I’ve chosen, and I know you’ll respect that.”

  “Fine. Just don’t ask me to respect Xenomorpheus vs. Sharkraptor 2.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve said all I have to say about alien big game hunters and genetically altered great whites that can breathe air and walk around on land.”

  “Good. You’re not a hack.”

  “The evidence would suggest differently. Bye now.”

  “Bye. Talk to you in four to six weeks.”

  “Can I count on that?”

  “You could call me if you decide to work with Kendall.”

  “I could. Bye.” Isaac hung up, knowing that this could go on for another twenty minutes to two hours. “I have a friend who cares about me,” he told Punkin as the cat strolled back into the kitchen. Punkin’s comment was a jerk of the last joint in his tail. “Go ahead and scoff,” Isaac said. “Tomorrow your fat ass is going on a diet.”

  AT 12:58 P.M., the doorbell rang, and Isaac shut his laptop as he got to his feet. Punkin met him in the foyer, clearly expecting to smell pepperoni when the door opened.

  “Hi,” said the young woman holding the huge pizza box. “I believe you’re expecting us? Callista and Tony?”

  “At last,” the fox-faced man beside her exclaimed as he reached for Isaac’s hand. “I’m Tony Kendall. I’ve waited a long time to work with you.”

  “Uh, come in,” Isaac said, pulling his hand out of Tony Kendall’s grip. He led the pair into the kitchen and told Callie to put the box down on the counter.

  Tony set down a six-pack of beer and glanced around. “You’ve a nice little piece of property here. Pretty area.”

  “I like it,” Isaac said, turning to Callie. “I would’ve recognized you in a crowd. You’ve grown up, but you still have the same freckles on the same nose.”

  “Grandma wanted me to have a nose job,” Callie said. “That’s when I decided I was coming back to California to go to college. At least when people out here have plastic surgery, it’s for a job, not just because they don’t like the way they look.”