by Stan Rogal
OK. Next item.
Maddie smiles. Jonathan bobs his head up and down and reads.
What do you want from this relationship? OK, more than anything — support. I want Maddie’s support. I want her there behind me. Behind you? With me. OK? With me.
His cell phone rings.
Jonathan? You’re not going to answer that. Sorry. I thought I had it turned off. Sorry.
He checks the number on the screen, turns the phone off and tucks it away.
Um, the business is growing. It has a chance to really take off. We can both benefit if we focus. It means the opportunity to make a lot of money and a chance to move up in the world; really move up: new house, new cars, travel … Sounds great. Sounds fantastic. Yeah. Yeah, it does. And what do you want, Maddie? Huh? What is it you want? Children. I want children, Jonathan. Your children. I’m tired of the business. Take the business. I’m not getting any younger. Call it stereotypical, call it biological clock, I don’t care. I want children. Children? That’s a big step. Children. Wow! I didn’t know. I never suspected. I thought … I mean, I’m not against having children. I’m not. I’m just not so sure it’s the right time. Another two or three years, I figure, and yeah, maybe. When we’re really established; when the money’s there.
They argue their cases to the television audience.
We have the money; money is not the problem. The problem is you. I think … I feel, that, you don’t want to be married to a “mother”; you don’t want to be seen by people … certain people … as a “father”. It would cramp your style. That’s crazy. Where do you get an idea like that? I told you, I feel it … I sense it. Oh, here we go. Another thing to put under the “least positive” list. The whole aura reading thing. And … she’s found God. Only, not the God that most people find. No, she’s created her own, a sort of mix and match; the best of east meets west; she’s on some kind of pseudo-religious kick. She’s into homeopathic remedies and healing hands and past lives and spirit guides and ESP and Tarot card reading and herbal medications and out-of-body experience and witchcraft and … and … what else? Huh? What other bogus voodoo? I don’t know; I can’t keep up. So now she figures she can read minds and pick up on vibrations and channel energy fields and whatnot.
Maddie’s face tenses, her tone gets serious.
Don’t mock what you don’t understand. Honey, I’m just saying … Don’t. Please. It’s just … It doesn’t matter. Really. It’s my journey. I’m not asking you to agree with it, sweetie. I’m not. Though I would appreciate it if you took it somewhat seriously.
Jonathan takes a second and grits his teeth.
You’re right. I’m sorry. Baby, I’m sorry. I’m trying, I really am. It’s just that, sometimes, it seems … too much, y’know? I don’t get it. I can’t wrap my head around it. I feel totally out of place. I understand. I do. And it’s OK. It’s not easy stuff, I know. It’s not easy for me sometimes, either. I just wish you’d try a little harder, love, that’s all.
Jonathan smiles and touches her hand with his own.
OK. Shall I go on? OK. The final item on the list is: Choose a song from the Karaoke menu that best describes your relationship.
He fumbles with the remote. Maddie leans in.
You just press the number of the song. The words appear on the screen and the music comes out through the speakers. Right. Got it. Here’s what I picked. I normally have a few drinks before I do this sort of thing, haha. All right, here goes.
He stands, presses buttons on the remote and uses it as a microphone. He clears his throat and smiles at the audience. He sings and dances to Barry White’s My First, My Last, My Everything.
… I know there’s only one like you
There’s no way they could have made two
Girl you’re my reality
But I’m lost in a dream
You’re my first, my last, my everything …
Jonathan performs a small bow. He’s worked himself into a bit of a lather and he’s puffing slightly. Maddie grins and applauds ecstatically.
Oh, Jonathan, that was so sweet. That was the song that was playing on the radio the night you proposed to me. I can’t believe you remembered that. Well, there you go. And long … it’s a long song. Yeah, it is long, isn’t it? Yeah, really long. Wow. I didn’t realize at the time. And you even had it memorized. I’m impressed. I tried. I mean, I had to cheat a bit, and I flubbed a few lines … And the dancing … Very sexy. Yeah, I still got a few moves … Maybe could’ve used a lesson or two, but … No, you were great. Really, really great. Terrific.
She grabs his hand, drags him close and kisses him on the mouth.
Thank you. It was beautiful. Yeah, yeah. Thank you. OK. Whew! So … what song did you pick, love?
Maddie reaches behind the couch, pulls out a guitar and ducks her head through the strap.
What’s this? Well, I didn’t think any of the songs they offered were quite suitable, so I wrote my own. You wrote your own? What do you mean, you wrote your own? Christ, Maddie, what the hell? Now, you see … this is what I’m talking about — you can’t just follow instructions, you have to go and change things to suit yourself. I don’t believe it. This is just embarrassing. I mean, I didn’t even know you could play guitar. Can you play guitar? It’s been years, but I’ve been practicing up. I don’t believe it. This is unbelievable. The instructions clearly say pick a song from the list. There’re over five hundred goddamn songs on the list and you couldn’t find one? I don’t believe it. Do you want to hear it or not?
She stands with her guitar at the ready. Jonathan sits.
Sure. Sure. What the hell? It’s your moment. Over five hundred goddamn songs. I don’t believe it. Then again, I do. Makes perfect sense. Jonathan? Johnny? Please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Go ahead, make me look like a jerk. Play. I can’t … I can’t play, if you’re going to be like that. What do you want me to say? I’m not trying to make you look like a jerk. I’m not. The song you chose was wonderful and sweet and loving and … and you were fantastic. You really were.
She appeals to the home audience, claps, kisses Jonathan on the cheek.
Wasn’t he fantastic? You were. And I’m sorry if you think I’ve changed the rules, it’s just that … it’s important for me, right now, to sing my song rather than someone else’s. Y’see? OK. OK. So, let’s hear it.
Johnny’s just a boy, his head is full of dreams.
He likes singing songs and whatever life brings.
Gonna travel ‘round the world and learn a few things
And then he’ll build something really big.
Maddie is a girl with romantic notions.
She stands in the rain ‘cause she misses the ocean.
And she works real hard to cover emotion
But she wouldn’t mind being kissed.
Now they’re meant for each other it’s easy to see
‘cause Maddie can’t seem to find her own philosophy
and Johnny’s most alive when he’s got his head between her knees
but in the back of their minds they’re saying
… OOOHH THIS IS FUCKED …
… OOOHH THIS IS FUCKED …
… OOOHH …
And now Maddie and Johnny are doomed from the start
‘cause each one’s trying to follow their heart.
And when they’re together they’re really apart.
It’s not the way they said it would be.
Now he’s drinking lots of beer ‘cause he don’t need the strife.
She’s adding spice to her food to make up for her life.
And each one secretly carries a knife.
This crazy little thing called love.
Oh yeah.
Maddie returns the guitar behind the couch. She cozies up to Jonathan who sits speechless.
Wow … That was … fantastic. Totally fantastic. A bit scary, maybe, but, fantastic. And this is how you feel … really … about the two of us? About our marriage? I mean, the whole kn
ife thing, and all? That’s pretty scary. Jonathan, don’t be so literal. I only mean … I feel we’re drifting apart and no amount of money is going to fix that. And you really want to have a baby? You think that will make a difference? You think we’re ready? I’m ready. Shall we ask the audience and see what they have to say?
Both stand and face the audience. They take each other’s hands.
What do you think? Should we have a baby? All those in favour?
The screen lights up with one huge, increasing number. Maddie bounces on the couch cushions and tugs at Jonathan’s jacket.
Wow! Look at that!
The theme music rises and fades. The couple waves to the camera as the screen turns blue. Jonathan flips Maddie onto her back. He slips his hands under her dress.
I’m not wearing underwear, Maddie says.
Jonathan rears back and loosens his tie.
Pretty sure of yourself, yes?
Pretty sure. Yes.
Maddie lifts her hips and pulls the remote out from under. She points the thing at the TV screen and hits a button. The screen turns black. Jonathan unzips his pants.
Come to daddy, he says.
Come to mommy, she replies.
THE NEWLYWEDS’ TALE
In which past events serve to not only destroy a marriage but also inflict revenge upon a family beyond any reasonable limits.
The snow-covered prairie unrolls like a vast sheet of corrugated cardboard, gently rising and falling beyond the blurred horizon. The snow is fresh. There is little to interrupt the whiteness: bent backs of wheat stalks poking through, thin line of fence posts, lone shadow of a circling hawk. A black gash of newly ploughed gravel road pointing north bisects the scene into equal halves. There’s a low stand of trees to the east crowned with snow. Off the main road a narrower ploughed artery bleeds east to west as far as a farmhouse. Otherwise there is merely the stamp of boot paths leading around the house to the barn, the shed, the woodpile and so on: evidence of daily chores occurring despite the weather, the worst now over. The sky has cleared and it’s an almost windless afternoon with smoke rising straight up from the chimney.
Inside, a man jostles burning wood with a metal poker and adds a fresh log to the pile. He uses the flared end of a dried stick to re-light his pipe, shakes off the flame, tosses the stick on the hearth, eases himself backward into a sofa chair. He crosses one knee with an ankle and smokes. A golden lab lies at one side of the chair. The two stare into the fireplace. A voice issues from the kitchen followed by a woman wearing an apron. She rubs her hands with a dishtowel.
“Should be back soon.”
“Yeah.”
The woman steps behind the chair and rubs her hands as if trying to remove something other than water. “Nice fire you got going.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Kinda nice. Weather and so on.”
“Umm.”
The two remain quiet. The woman wipes her nose with the towel. The man chews the stem of his pipe. The two of them sigh.
“She’s pretty excited.”
“Sure. Not everyday you get married.”
“I can’t believe it. A week today. Our little girl.”
“Not so little.”
“Maybe.”
The man taps ashes into the ashtray and sets the pipe down. He drags a hand through his thin hair and pulls at his stubbled chin.
“What do you think?” the woman asks.
“What do I think? About what?” There’s no verbal response from the woman though the man can sense her reaction, a habit she has, chewing the inside of her lower lip as she waits out a reply. He gives in with a slight shrug of shoulders. “Don’t know. Hope for the best, I guess.”
“Yeah. She loves him. I know that much.”
“Umm. Is it enough, is what I’m wondering.”
“You don’t think he loves her?”
“I don’t know. Seems to. Can’t say he doesn’t. It’s just …”
“Yeah.”
“Funny. Him being gone almost a dozen years, shows up out of the blue, snap, just like that, not here more’n a few weeks, settles in, gets a job, next thing he’s courting our Jenny. Why?”
“I know. Funny.”
“After what happened.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Time heals all wounds, that it?”
“Maybe. People change.”
“I hope.”
“Anyway, it’s not up to us, it’s up to Jenny.”
“Jenny, yeah. Though more Warren, I think. She’d’ve waited, seems to me. Taken more time. Instead.”
“Less than six months. Getting married Saturday.”
“Seems too fast.”
“How long for us? Not much different, I think.”
“Difference is we were older. Older when we met, older when we married, older when we had her. Old enough to know our own minds.”
“Jenny knows. In her heart she knows. Where it counts.”
“I still say.”
“Nothing you can say. Nothing either of us can say. It’s done.”
“Uh-huh. In her heart. OK. I’ll keep my fingers crossed. Thinking back, though. That look he gave me when they took him away.”
“He was a boy.”
“That’s what scares me. He was a boy. That a boy could give such a look. Filled with such hatred.”
“Maybe you’ve exaggerated. Maybe you’ve allowed it to grow inside your head all out of proportion.”
“You think?”
“I’m just sayin’.”
“Maybe. Maybe.” He slumps into the chair and stares off into the flames. His arm drops and he mechanically scratches the dog’s ears. The woman gives the dishtowel a shake and returns to the kitchen.
The two of them are in the local diner finishing off hamburger dinners. Their conversation is animated with youthful energy, nervous bounce and rapid gesticulations. They wave arms, bob heads, lean in and out, grab at hands, squeeze, kiss, release. They laugh out loud, roar, whisper. They push aside plates and drink Cokes. The boy wraps his fingers around the girl’s wrists. He looks straight in her eyes. His tone grows serious.
“Jenny,” he says.
“What? What is it?”
“I have terrific news.”
“You found us a place?” She smiles and rubs his fingertips with hers.
“Sort of. Not exactly. Better.”
“Better? What better?”
“I didn’t tell you, but I’ve been lookin’ for a different position.”
“You mean your job? I thought you loved workin’ at the hardware store?”
“Not a different job, a different position. Management.”
“Uh-huh?”
“And I got one. With a major chain.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Thing is … it’s in Toronto.”
The girl relaxes her grip, her body sags. “Toronto?”
“Yeah, isn’t that great? We’ll be able to get outta this dump and live in the city. What d’ya think? Terrific, right?”
“Um … I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? I thought you’d be excited.”
“I’m sorry … I just thought … I assumed … we’d be stayin’ here.”
“Stay here? Why? For what? There’s nothin’ for us here. It’s a shit hole. I’m sorry but it’s true. The place is dead. It’s practically a ghost town. Everyone’s movin’ out. All the young people anyhow. If I stay here any longer I’ll go crazy. We’ll both go crazy. I’m tellin’ you.”
“I didn’t know that. I thought you liked it here.”
“Are you kiddin’? What’s to like? I hate it. Nothin’ but wheat fields for miles. Dust in the summer and mud in the winter. Everyone workin’ two or three jobs to make ends meet. Or else on some kind of social assistance or welfare. I wanna make a life for us. A better life. I can’t do it here.”
“Why’d you come back then? In the first place?”
“Prove what?”
“That I’m OK. That I’m not a fuck-up. Back then, I was taken away and stuck in a home. This time, I’m leavin’ on my own terms. My choice. Y’understand? The difference?”
“Yeah, I guess. Only, what am I gonna do in the city? Out here, I’ve got my parents. I’ve got my horse. I’ve a got a job.”
“There’s horses near Toronto if you wanna ride. And your job? I mean, c’mon, gimme a break, I don’t wanna knock it, but you sell tickets and popcorn at the theatre, what’s that? You can do that anywhere. Besides, theatre’s gonna go belly up any day now. As for your parents, we’re gonna be married, right? Husband and wife. We wanna have a house and kids and a dog and maybe a cat, yeah? Give them a good life, right?” He strokes her arms and smiles. “Right?”
“What about Saskatoon? Did you like it there? It’s pretty big. Maybe we could live there awhile, y’know, get used to things?”
“I don’t wanna talk about Saskatoon, OK? I’ve got nothin’ good to say about that place either. It was a prison to me. I just wanna forget about it and everythin’ that happened there, clear?”
“Yeah, clear. It just seems like so much so soon.”
“What do we wanna wait for? You love me, yes?” She nods. “And I love you. That’s what matters. That’s what’s important. So let’s go for it. I’m tellin’ you. Toronto! Nice shops, nice restaurants, things to see, things to do … You’re gonna love it. I promise.”
“When?”
“They want me to start March First. Plenty of time to get things organized here, make our good-byes and so on. ‘Course, I gotta be there a bit sooner to get the lay o’ the land, find us a place, figure out what’s what, y’know?”
“Sure, makes sense. You really want this, yeah?”
“What’s not to want? We get to Toronto, it’s a quick flight to New York, Boston, Chicago … the world! Wherever we want. Think about it.”
“OK,” she says quietly. He jiggles her hands and her face lights up. “OK.”
“OK. That’s my girl. Let’s pay the bill and go back to my apartment, huh? We’ll have some fun. Celebrate.”