Reproduction

by Ian Williams

  That’s your diagnosis?

  I accept insurance.

  It’s not that I like hot girls, most of which—

  Of whom.

  are under thirty.

  You’re thirty-six.

  I’m thirty-sexy, Army said and shimmied his shoulders.

  Heather didn’t have sex after the assault you know both we mothers in critical condition and you invoking hell until her first year in university. He was in her pardon Women’s Studies class. She thought he was gay but it turned out he was just poetic. She could have slept with him I forget my biology book earlier. In his room, which she preferred because she could always leave, they’d make out and she’d put her hand on his chest time after time to see if he would stop and he did. Time after time. Stop. lighten up Even with his zipper down, get serious he stopped. He sat up, put his hands on his lap, and nodded imperceptibly. Vibrated really. She thought he might make a good longterm partner. Together okay fine they could train dogs to wait at their heels before entering intersections. Around American Thanksgiving, he got passive-aggressive at her no, sulky, I can be serious the white-boy entitlement to the world. They were together until the end of the semester, what are your ambitions then she had to get out of the toxic stultifying nausea do you want to talk about that of his presence. He had about four ideas although most people are just duplicates of other people in his head that he kept repeating. and the people who are truly themselves They popped around his head like lottery balls in an air-mix machine. By the end of their relationship, he never withdrew a ball for her, but he did for company. With her, he became very casual. He had sex as if he were urinating. are those alcoholics you see in parks In any event, they were currently Facebook talk to one friends. you’ll see

  Riot’s seriously broken up, she said. About you that’s your ambition then and the dead-mother girl.

  Grandmother, Army corrected.

  Whatever.

  Faye.

  Heather explained the photograph, the silence, the what-if questions when she came home, the Aspergery projects, including videos of two Asian girls leaving their apartment and walking up the street, every day, every day.

  I’m not with her. You think— Army pointed to the phone in his pocket or to his penis.

  I think you’re in denial what’s yours about a lot of things.

  For instance?

  For instance, maybe a nurse you think time stopped I don’t mind blood when you were eighteen. You think you’re more successful than you are. You realize living in your parents’ basement at thirty-six is the epitome of failure in our culture? All you need is to play guitar.

  Army looked into the distant lights. I used to like bandaging people when we played nurse.

  She opened her mouth to apologize.

  I told you that I got Oliver’s permit unrevoked? Army asked. He can play in the subway again.

  Watch out, Ed Sheeran. How many times can he sing Pine Cone?

  Well, his set’s more old school but I feel you, I feel you, the singer-songwriter thing.

  He only does covers, Heather said.

  He only does covers, Army confirmed. Apart from Pine Cone.

  Heather was quiet didn’t you play doctor for a while. Army took a drag of the cigarette then threw it off the balcony.

  After I came back home, we played nurse Heather said, you said the worst thing anybody has ever said to me.

  Impossible. Army held his wrists.

  You remember?

  Army shook his head.

  Why did you let him rape you? Heather said. You remember now?

  I was, like, twelve, Heather.

  Fourteen. And you were standing just like that we didn’t have a boy to play with when I came home.

  Like what?

  Heather locked her wrists over her belly.

  * * *

  +

  The passenger seat texted Faye, We got im.

  Faye texted the backseat, Another dream bites the dust?

  The backseat didn’t text back.

  Faye texted the backseat, I’m Team Riot on this one.

  The backseat didn’t text back.

  Faye texted the passenger seat, He’s not texting back. Sleeping?

  The passenger seat texted Faye, No.

  Faye texted the backseat, Just so you know.

  The backseat texted Faye, You mean Team Army.

  Faye texted the passenger seat, Did you tell him something?

  The passenger seat texted Faye, ??

  Faye sent the passenger seat a screenshot of the backseat’s text.

  The passenger seat turned around.

  The backseat texted Faye, You know he’s 36.

  Faye texted that blasted hound back again the passenger seat, How old are you?

  The passenger seat texted Faye, A gentleman never reals [sic] his age

  Faye texted the passenger seat, Answer me.

  The backseat texted Faye, Just cause he’s in college doesn’t mean he’s young. You know he failed out before right?

  The passenger seat texted Faye, Driving now. Talk later.

  The backseat texted Faye, You know he’s never had a gf longer than like 2 days right?

  Faye didn’t reply.

  The backseat texted Faye, You know you only sneaked around because he prolly has 3 or 4 girls right now right?

  Faye didn’t reply.

  The backseat texted Faye, Just so you know.

  Faye texted the passenger seat, You’re 36!!!

  The passenger seat turned around.

  Faye: You’re a perv!!

  Passenger seat: Chill.

  Faye: I never shd got back with u! Done wit u! maybe I’ll get a dog when she dies Don’t call me don’t trext me don’t fvook me! [sic]

  Passenger seat: Pause your menopause.

  Faye: Pause YOUR menopause!! SEX OFF ENDER!!!

  Passenger seat: Talk when I back…Misunderstanding.

  Faye: I hope you crash!!!!!!!

  * * *

  +

  Army was fourteen, in the garage, holding an envelope and making a speech, only he was thirty-six, in the food court of the Eaton Centre, lowering a tray of bagels and coffee, trying to get Faye to admire him again, to adore him, to look at his lips as he spoke.

  He began, Remember when you and me took that roadtrip up north and you told me you’d never been happier? You had that blue handkerchief over your head and the parachute skirt. Never been happier is what you said.

  No smile. you didn’t think about marriage Faye leaned back.

  So I’m a bit older when you was hacking up your body than you thought. It’s not the end not to have children of the world.

  It’s the lie.

  I wouldn’t call it a lie.

  I’m calling it a lie.

  It never came up.

  You went around acting did I think about it like you and Riot were twins.

  If you do I think about it had asked, I would have been willing—

  How old are you?

  Listen. I apologize if I misled you. Army uncapped one lid of coffee I didn’t think about it and set it before Faye. He blew over the top gently. But you were Riot’s friend, no hot friend, if I may say so myself, and I had no intention of— Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from business it’s ethics. And you got with me. I mean, that’s the way it happened.

  Right, well, I’m ungetting with you.

  I didn’t mean that. I apologize.

  She looked down.

  Army clasped his forearms. Reconciliation would require truth.

  I’m thirty-six. I’ve started college four times, mostly for the money. I don’t have any savings, per se. I’m overleveraged. If this Canafries business doesn’t work out, I’m going to file for bankruptcy. I’ve never been with anyone more than half a year. So, you understand. Riot hates me. Heather thinks I’m a joke. Oliver wants me to pay rent. My dad’s giving all his money to charity. And Mom, she thinks I’m doomed to get shot by the police for dr
iving my Beamer. So. There.

  Faye took her hands off you should have the table why’s that and rested them in her lap. She and Army sat, facing each other, slumped, with an orange tray between them.

  You’re not a joke, Faye said.

  Marry me.

  She pulled her hair over her shoulder. Is that all it takes?

  I’m not even kidding, Faye. He hadn’t planned a proposal. He didn’t walk with a ring in his pocket but his instincts, which had never, almost never, led him wrong in business, flashed him arrows and green lights. City Hall was across the street. He was tingling. He would pack up her belongings from her dorm and they’d move into one of the condos. After evicting the tenants. He’d get a Bay Street job somehow. Wear tailored suits and sunglasses. She’d get him a leather satchel for Christmas. He’d get her Louboutin pumps.

  She rolled her eyes. you have grossly reduced your chances of having a family But she had rolled her eyes. Amber alert.

  Army took his keys from his pocket and unspooled the keys. He extended the silver ring toward Faye.

  Wrong, she said.

  It’s temporary. Until.

  No, I mean—I think I’ve eliminated my chances

  Until I can get a real one. Until death do we part. He had to keep talking quite frankly until he could sense the victory. We can go and choose one. I can leave the car key on there to sweeten the pot.

  No, I mean, that’s not how men propose.

  Army sprung up then went down on one knee, then both, as he would at church, key chain still extended to Faye.

  She made him wait a long time. It began to feel like penance.

  I’m thinking, she said.

  Can you walk and think at the same time?

  On the counter of the service desk at City Hall, Army tapped his credit card to pay the fee for the marriage licence.

  * * *

  Edgar kept complaining about pain, despite the morphine.

  Give it time, Felicia said.

  How much time do I have? EeEee replied.

  From work, Felicia called the quack, expecting to pick up a stronger prescription on her way home, but the secretary gave her a hard time about power of attorney and when she insisted she speak to the doctor, who knew she was the primary caregiver, how many mixed couples you know he said that he could not legally take Felicia’s word.

  So Felicia plenty went home at lunch, put Edgar Indian and Black in her car, drove to the office of the worst doctor ever, as Riot Chinese and Indian would say, so he, the doctor, could hear from Edgar’s Spanish and everybody own mouth about the inefficacy of morphine.

  The doctor spoke to Edgar directly, not to Felicia.

  We could admit you.

  Edgar shook his head.

  I could give you liquid morphine.

  How’s that different from the pills?

  It works a little faster—twenty, thirty minutes before you feel an effect—but it doesn’t last as long. There’s no liquid long-acting preparation.

  What works faster?

  Subcutaneous. You couldn’t administer that yourself, the doctor said. Remember, Edgar, you’re not taking morphine in response to pain. By then, it’s too late. Stay on schedule.

  He is, Felicia said. He’s having breakthrough pain. We checked the internet.

  The doctor continued speaking to Edgar. We could set you up with an IV.

  No good, Edgar said. I need to be free to smoke outside.

  You’re not going to be smoking outside, Edgar, Felicia said. in uni I used to know a couple It almost brought tears she was black and he was white to her eyes.

  Free to smoke inside then, he said to the doctor. No cords and wires is not news you broadcasting and what have you.

  Felicia used the lull only she was the whitest black woman I ever met in the conversation and he was into everything black to make a declaration soul music to the doctor. I’d like you to note the talk and to tell your staff that I am authorized to make decisions picked out his hair into a little afro about Edgar’s care.

  The doctor looked at Edgar. Is that right?

  Edgar shrugged.

  Felicia exhaled sharply. Even now, you want news he would not affirm her. She was about to tell the doctor to admit EeEeE to Palliative. where I come from one of them mixed race couple did get in a fight and the man hack up she body and put it in a suitcase. She would wash everybody was asking for the wife and he acting like he don’t know her hands clean of him.

  It’s not that I don’t trust her, Edgar said.

  Then what? Felicia said. lo and behold when they put two and two together the police find the man in khaki short pants planting lemon seeds behind he brother house as if nothing didn’t happen Because clearly you don’t understand the strain you putting me under.

  Edgar spoke to the doctor, attempting to twinkle: It’s that she’ll try to keep me around too long.

  It was like neither man understood the gravity of the situation. Quips and cracks and all that levity in the face of his death—simply appalling.

  Can’t blame the old girl for trying, the doctor said.

  Felicia despised him.

  Edgar looked like he wanted to smoke immediately and therefore needed to speed up the conversation. As I was saying, what’s the strongest thing you have?

  That depends on dosage but we use fentanyl in—

  Give me that.

  You can’t just request your medication, Felicia said. She recalled countless ask-your-doctor-if-maycausedeath-is-right-for-you commercials.

  Fentanyl it is, EEEEE said. I don’t want to feel anything.

  Fentanyl it was. Edgar would begin with short-acting tablets for the first day while waiting for the patch to kick in.

  * * *

  +

  While waiting for such a young girl for a new fentanyl patch to blanket the pain, Edgar confessed to Army, privately, that he was most afraid you have a penchant for the macabre of losing his ability to smoke. He said it as if smoking were a sense. Army searched for fentanyl and nicotine patch. No contraindications. He went out and bought nicotine patches. He applied one to Edgar’s right flank.

  Give me another, Eeeer said. For the other lung.

  So Army did.

  And Edgar said, Atta boy, or, That’s my boy. It was unclear which but the syllables returned Edgar to Army’s confidence. He squeezed I just telling you what I does hear the package of the nicotine patches gratefully. See, Heather, people could be proud of him. When he returned from New York, Army had been glad to see Eeger back at home. In front of Riot, he made a show of asking Edgar about his medication try listening to some music and holding the pill bottles up to the light. He intended to impress Riot back into loving him.

  I got married, Army told Edgar. It was a half-truth. He and Faye had a marriage licence but only an appointment for the actual marriage service.

  Edgar turned his head to face Army directly. His eyes shone. He blinked rapidly.

  Let me take a picture of yoooh-ooh-oohu, Army said.

  * * *

  +

  as I was saying Felicia she’s Polish instructed the men to move Hendrix’s twin bed downstairs and to move the couch upstairs, she had to be German all this so Edgar you can’t fault her for surviving could have a proper bed.

  Why doesn’t he just stay during the war in Hendrix’s room?

  To answer fine that question truthfully but not her whole life would begin a fight with Oliver, who, Felicia knew, didn’t want Eager never spoke a word of Polish at home dying in anyone’s room, especially not Hendrix’s. They still called it Hendrix’s room although he hadn’t lived there since childhood and never talked about her parents hadn’t lived in years.

  The stairs, she said. Too many stairs.

  Oliver flipped the mattress upright and Army and Riot began dismantling the bed. They fell into silent contemplation most people life is just a set of horror stories while unscrewing the headboard from the frame. It was an old frame from Ikea. Army twisted the Allen k
ey near the headboard. He didn’t look at either Oliver or Felicia.

  I don’t think we can take care of him anymore, Army said into his work.

  Oliver had delicious satisfaction on his face. You brought him here.

  We’ll do what we can. Life and death are in the hands—

  He needs stronger pain medication. I feel like we’re killing him. Army did not look Felicia in the eye.

  You should have thought of that a month ago.

  We not killing nobody, Felicia said. Don’t damage the wall. She placed a T-shirt on the edge between the headboard and the wall.

  All four of them heard Edgar groan no lightly downstairs when we were little as if God was no longer breathing into him but blowing lightly atop a bottle.

  I’m calling an ambulance, she said that her parents were gobbled up by eagles Oliver said.

  You don’t just call an ambulance without an emergency. What had gotten into them all? It’s not— It’s not but she said it smiling transportation. you know

  He can’t die in the basement, Mom.

  Be sensible, Oliver said.

  He needs I wish my father did tell me something like that to die among people, Army said.

  I’m people, Felicia said. I don’t know what did he tell you what you consider yourselves.

  He means a hospice, Oliver said.

  the truth Or something, Army said. Witnesses, I mean. Other people need to see him die more or less among us.

  Think of the responsibility, Oliver said. You want someone accusing you down the line of—

  We could record it, Riot said out of nowhere.

  * * *

  On her way to work, Felicia was in the centre lane of three, heading south on the 410, behind an SUV, thinking that everyone these days was tinting their windows so dark, she couldn’t see inside, wasn’t that illegal, thinking that the formal appeal process for Riot could wrap up by the end of the semester if she pressed the ombudsman’s assistant, that she would peek into Army’s Blackboard, Brownstone’s course management system, to see if he had been submitting assignments, thinking that Christmas would soon be here, that she would not be the one to sort through Edgar’s things, she would not step into his house again because he had refused to cooperate yesterday when she asked him what he wanted, what kind of arrangements, and he said don’t worry about it with the same cavalier evasion he had when she first visited him in the hospital. It’s taken care of, he said. He would not tell her important things yet she would learn that he had told Army those very same things casually.