“Thou shall not lie,” I said. “Who is my father?” Sfen waited outside, guarding the door, and I knew he could hear. We knew who Sfen’s dad was. But today was Father’s Day and we’d made this trip special to find out.
“Your father,” she said. “Didn’t your mom tell you?”
“No,” I said. “I’m asking you.”
“Hazel,” she said. “Sit down.”
“I’ll stand.”
“Please.”
“I’ll stand.” I started to shake.
“Let me call Father.”
“I want you to tell me. Don’t lie.”
“Torchy,” she took a big breath. “Your mother conceived you from a man who raped her.” The tears started to fall. I didn’t even feel them coming.
“He had just gotten out of jail. He raped several women in town that week. He used a knife. There was nothing your mother could do.”
Sfen and I walked all day. And when we sat down at the rocks and watched the pelicans fly, I was no longer Hazel. Just like how Sfen told me once that the polar bear transformed from the brown bear. Sfen was still Sfen but I transformed into Torchy. His dad just left when Mom told him they were expecting. Just left. Vanished. That was the day we stopped wanting to be priests. That was the day we changed forever.
“Who made you?” I’d ask myself when I looked into the mirror.
“Rape.”
“Why?”
“To make me a better weapon.”
“Why?”
“To bury the name of Jesus.”
That was the fall Sfen and I lit every field on fire where it might have happened. That was the fall when I became Torchy. That was the fall where I said Fuck you all.
After I lost Sfen, I think he took something with him. It was more than just his spirit; it was also a lot of my hate and rage. I told Snowbird about it once. That was when he told me about how sometimes you could do more as a spirit than you ever could alive. Maybe my brother came back for the rage I had all the time on his way to the other side. I don’t know….
Thelma came back and gave me a huge mug of Coke with ice and a twist of lemon. I smiled and thanked her. “No problem,” she said. “You take good care of that girl now.”
“I will,” I nodded. “Thanks.” I ditched the straw and took a huge swallow. It was hard to believe Lester had died after I left. Fuck, he went fast. As much as I wanted to have a shot of liquid tornado, I had to remember that I was broke and it gave me garbage guts, but how could I get some sombah? And now, back against the wall, in my old playpen, I could relax, be a man – away from Stephanie and Snowbird.
It had been a while since I had felt a woman’s touch, so I took the second story – the secret – that Lester told me nice and slow. Lester had been at the Friendship Festival in Smith this summer. He’d gone there to check out the bands and go on a toot. I knew about the festival. Bands from all over the north and south travelled to Fort Smith for a week to party it up and have a good time. I’d never been to the festival, but I knew if it was in Smith it was going to be a shaker.
To Lester’s surprise, Charity was there – away from Vincent, which was a rarity as that fucker never let his woman too far out of his sight for obvious reasons. I guess they’d been scrappin’ and she broke loose. Lester ended up sitting with her all day and they even went to the dance together. They had a good time, he said, the best he’d ever had. Charity wouldn’t talk about it, he said, but Lester could tell she was lonesome and he crossed his fingers prayin’ that this would be his chance.
Because of my meds and a few lucky shots to the head, I don’t remember a lot of things in high school, but I do remember that Lester did have his eye on Charity, but, for whatever reason – maybe his seizures, maybe money – she wouldn’t go to him. She ran to Vincent, asshole at seventeen. He was a dealer and was making tons of money dabbling in the hard stuff. He could get you anything you wanted – if it was fiscal for him. So he and Charity had been together forever, like a bad habit. I’d never really cared if they made ’er or not but they broke up, got back together, broke up – whatever. All I know is Charity had been on the damage trail ever since.
Anyhow, after Charity and Lester realized that they’d had a little too much to drink to drive back to Simmer, they decided to get rooms at the Pelican, aka Bareback Central. Guess what? With the festival in town there was only one room left with a single bed. So, they agreed to split the bill and Lester offered to take the couch.
As soon as they got in the room, Charity said she needed a shower. Lester turned on the TV but kept the mute button on and prayed to God that she’d come out naked. Well, maybe the Lord above showed some mercy in the face of what was to come for Lester because Charity – and she is very pretty – came out of the bathroom wearing nothin’ but a towel.
Let’s slow things down a little as it’s been so long since I felt the fire of agonizing release. Charity opened the door and walked out with a white towel against her beautiful brown skin and that long brown hair of hers. She wasn’t wearing a towel over her head because she wanted the wet look. My God, she walked out and stood defiantly before him. I’m thinking Lester turned the TV off. No – no. He kept it on. He’d be too scared to move. He saw her and she’d put lipstick on to accentuate that pretty face of hers and there they were: her long, smooth legs and lovely painted toes. And she’s just standing there, looking at him, eyes locked on him.
She’d decided.
Give me this, Lester was probably thinking. God, Lord above. Give me this. I’ll go to church from now on if you give me this. Lester said she looked at him with the sweetest eyes and, before he knew it, he whispered, “Drop that towel.” And, to Lester’s delight, she did.
Lester feasted his eyes on her beautiful breasts, those wicked nipples, each one as hard as a thumb stud on a switchblade, her smooth tummy, her soft everything. To his surprise, Charity had a butterfly tattoo underneath her belly button.
“Wow,” Lester said – about her body and the situation, “Nice tattoo.”
Charity looked down and ran her hands over her tummy. “Do you like it?” Lester sat up and never felt so Hollywood his whole life.
Charity smiled, blushed and looked back at him. “It’s me.”
“What?” Lester asked, swallowing hard. “Could you say that again?”
Charity looked at him and he saw a woman filled with secrets and stories and a wish. “Lester,” she said, “this butterfly is me.” And that’s when she walked forward towards him, leaned forward and kissed him.
All of us grew up together just a few grades apart but even in Simmer we somehow become strangers along the way. Boys torture animals, shoot a few ravens, become ninjas for a few summers, get a job, get a car, maybe some road-head, have a kid, shack up, get drunk, get up, fall down, go home.
Girls, though, they grow faster, bloom first. They probably start getting hit on when they’re fourteen by the older men in town, figure out how to kiss early. Every girl I ever kissed growing up sure knew how to do it right and sweet long before I ever did. I figure girls start gathering secrets earlier than boys. They’ve got the power, the inkwo. Their bodies bring them attention and they figure out pretty early how the world works. They learn about the hunger of men, how there’s no end to it, how possible it is to end up with a pile of wolves on top of you as your terrified eyes glance at the ceiling, the door, the floor. Girls learn their way around men, maybe even before they figure out how to manoeuvre around other women. They figure out things far sooner than the boys and that is the base of their power.
Lester didn’t have to tell me. I knew: they made sweet love and all that loneliness Charity had inside her blossomed into giving. She made up for one night with Lester just how lonely she’d been her whole life. She cried after, he said. When he asked her if he should stop, she only held him closer. All night, he said – and he smiled when he
told me. All night.
I imagine the chalice of her hips receiving him. The heaving and pull, the taking together, the immediate ferocity. I could only imagine how important this was for both of them. After, as the sun rose and the little birds started to sing, calling back the sun, Charity told Lester everything. They had, I guess, a game of truth. She told him about the three brothers who’d tried to rape her one night in Inuvik. She told him about how scared she was that breast cancer ran in her family. Lester listened and couldn’t believe she’d welcomed him right inside her. She spoke for a solid two hours about her life and how she just couldn’t break free of Vincent. Vincent started beating on her a year after they started going out, and she swore that she’d never live with a man who’d do that. But why couldn’t she get away? She didn’t even know herself.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m doing all the talking. What about you? You know more than anyone what’s been on my mind. It’s your turn,” she said and sat up. “Tell me a secret.” Lester said he didn’t really have any secrets but he had a confession.
“What’s that?” she asked and handed him her smoke.
“I’ve always loved you,” he blushed. “Maybe it’s not like that for you, but it’s everything to me.” And she started crying again. I guess he told her even more. He told her how scared he was for her because he knew how violent Vincent was and how the beatings weren’t going to be getting any softer. She showed him her two back molars, the ones on the left in her bottom jaw. They weren’t there anymore, and Charity’d never told her family or friends, but Vincent had knocked them out one night when she came home late after visiting her cousin who was passing through town for one night only.
“Promise me,” Lester said. “Promise me that you’ll leave him. You don’t ever have to go with me,” he said. “But just promise you’ll get away from him.”
“I can’t,” she said. “He needs me.”
Then Lester told me something that surprised even him. He pointed to her butterfly tattoo and said, “Butterflies aren’t meant for cages.” And that’s the line that broke her. As the sun met the edges of town, and the morning bloomed into day, she promised him and swore on her mother’s grave that she’d leave Vincent and take the time she needed to find herself again. She promised him.
Lester was happy. He said they got up, showered and promised never to tell anyone what happened. They did the deal where the lady leaves the hotel first and you wait half an hour before you go.
“Oh,” Charity said before she left the room first. “I owe you half for the hotel bill,” she said. “I’ll pay you back later.”
“Deal,” Lester said, and they kissed goodbye. Well, as sweet a story as that was, who was sitting together at the bar just as miserable as ever? Charity and Vincent. I knew they’d be there. I shook my head and thought: what the fuck does Vincent have that Lester wouldn’t have given you? Nice fuckin’ life, Charity. I hope you can bite back the tears as you grab your ankles and Vince grunts one off, pinning you to your mattress every night.
I thought of the second – and now last – thing Lester had asked of me before he died. I took a big breath and started to get up when, to my surprise, the Inuit who blocked me at the hospital sat down at my table. I was so into thinking about Charity in that towel that I let my guard down. Fucker sat down across from me and nodded. “What are you drinking?”
“What the fuck’s it to you?” I growled.
He looked at it and squinted. “Pop?” He motioned to Thelma that he wanted the same thing I had and he ordered me another.
“I’m leaving,” I said.
“You can leave in a bit,” he said. “We need to talk.” The Inuk pulled out his wallet and I took a quick look at his tools: scuffed knuckles, callused hands and black shiny slash scars on his forearms. Looked like he used Plexiglas to try and end it a few times. He was wearing a thick silver ring on each middle finger. He looked strong, stronger than me. And the whole time he was getting his cash out, he didn’t take his eyes off me.
Thelma came to us and dropped both drinks off. “He a friend of yours?” she asked me.
“Nope,” I said.
“Want me to call Boom?”
“No,” I said. “I can handle this.”
“You said it.” Thelma took the money from the guy and walked away without giving him any change. This didn’t faze him a bit. He was breathing through his nose, boring his eyes into me. Trying to intimidate me, I guess. He was thickly built, a heavy hitter for sure. There’d be no strike and stun touch with this guy. He could take anything I had unless I unleashed the sweet science of dirty on him.
“What’s your name?” I asked. “Since you obviously know mine.”
“Arnie,” he said. Neither of us extended our hands. Instead, I calmly took a drink of my pop from my straw, and he did the same.
“To your daughter,” he said. I stopped smiling. How the fuck did he know about Stephanie?
He watched me. “Easy now. I have a daughter, too.”
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“Iqaluit.”
I thought of Charity’s tattoo. “You guys got butterflies up there?”
“Yeah. We got butterflies. All kinds. We got hornets, caterpillars, bumblebees.”
I nodded. “Why are you here?”
“Me?” he took another sip and frowned. “I’m working off my time.”
“For what?”
He looked at me. “That’s private.”
“Uh huh. How much the Bullfrog paying you?”
“Don’t matter. I’m not here for the money,” he said.
“Oh? Then why are you?”
He looked at me, hard. “I’m here for you.” Those daddy-long-leg shivers I felt when we first met came back stronger than ever.
“Uh huh. So this means that sooner or later, you want to down me, right?” He nodded.
“You want the title?” He nodded and actually glowed.
“Look,” I said. “I’ll be honest. I’m a little busy right now, so how about another time?”
He looked at me and smiled. “Today’s the day.”
“I’m not going to fight you,” I said.
“Oh yes you are.”
I looked at Charity and Vincent. “I’m busy.”
“You have to,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because if you don’t, the Bullfrog’s not gonna tell you where he reburied your brother.” He nodded.
A sledgehammer hit my stomach and heart at the same time. I was stunned. “What?”
He leaned across the table and growled, “You will fight me today.” I looked around the bar, worried someone else might have heard. I’ve been telling the few who asked that my brother was working in the States and that I was watching his place when really he was buried at the lake.
I tensed. “What the fuck is this?”
“Jeremiah said he was doing some surveying out by the warden’s house and he come across a homemade grave.” My eyes flashed anger and the Inuit caught that.
“Wolves tried to get at the body, but there were too many rocks.” I had an image of wolves with AIDS running through the bush blind and scared.
“Go on,” I said. “I know you got more.”
“So he dug up the grave to see who it was.”
“No…” I said, astonished.
“No head.” The Inuit smiled. “Once he saw what was left of your brother’s jaw, he buried him again and told a few people.”
“Where? Where did he rebury him?”
“The new graveyard.”
“In town?” He nodded.
“Who? Who did he tell?”
“Betting men, you could say.” I got ready to flip the table up and towards him.
“And told them what exactly?” The Inuk knew the move and placed his arms acros
s the table so I couldn’t get leverage.
“Easy now,” he said. “All they know is we’re gonna fight. And he’s going to tell you where he reburied your brother.”
I shook my head and cursed my TB. I wanted to fight but was weak. So Sfen’s body was in town. Steph and I just walked by there yesterday. “How much did Jeremiah put on this match?”
“Five thousand dollars so far.” Good money, but I couldn’t win it. Not in the shape I was in.
I nodded. “So where are we supposed to do this?”
“The old racetrack,” he said. “Right away – and there’s a bonus.”
I’ll bite. “What?”
“He’s spray painted a circle in the sand. It’s a big one. If you can take on the whole Smith Squad and me, the pot goes up to ten thousand dollars.” Holy fuck. I couldn’t believe this.
“Give me a month,” I said. “I need to –”
“No deal,” Arnie said. “We fight today.”
I nodded and began to really think this through. This meant that half the fuckin’ town probably knew about the match already. Whether or not I wanted this, it was going down. I didn’t have a choice. I had to keep this asshole talking and process how this was going to work. They had Sfen reburied in the boneyard, but there were a hundred new graves. I saw the tender in the newspaper. My brother was buried. This was good. But where? I remembered that the Bullfrog had the contract to expand the graveyard, so which grave was Sfen in?
My right hand started to feel hot and I realized I was being watched and, fuck me, I was being played right here, right now with the oldest trick in the book. I nodded. “So rather than just meet me out back, why buy me a drink?”
“I’ve wanted to meet the legend,” he said. “I will beat you. I will be the first to knock you out. I thought it was only right I buy you a drink.”
“Bullshit,” I said. “You bought me a drink to see which hand I throw from, right?”
He smiled and nodded. “You’re good.”
I nodded. “That’s an old trick. As old as the hills, but I got to warn you, I got a hard head. You hit me and the only thing you’re going to get is my attention.”
Godless But Loyal To Heaven Page 13