by Perrin Briar
“It’s not up to me,” Liz said. “It’s up to all of us.”
“You’re right,” Bill said.
Liz stopped wiping her face with a cotton bud, tossing it on the table.
“Are you unhappy with your life, Bill?” Liz said. “Are you unfulfilled in some way?”
“I’m not saying I’m not happy with my life,” Bill said. “I am. I just… I mean…”
Bill sighed.
“Don’t you ever think that maybe you could do more with your life?” he said. “Not change the world or free a nation or be a hero, but… something different?”
Liz folded her arms.
“Yes,” she said. “At times. I wonder what if we hadn’t had the kids so young, what if we’d moved away, travelled the world a little. But then I think about all the things we have here, how lucky we are. There are people a lot worse off than us, you know.”
“I know,” Bill said. “And I’m really trying not to be selfish. I wish I could give you and the kids more.”
“You give us plenty,” Liz said. “And the boys have university to look forward to. Marriage. Their own kids. When we got married I never expected private jet planes or multiple houses around the world.”
“I know,” Bill said.
“What brought this on anyway?” Liz said.
Bill shrugged.
“I was just thinking it would be nice,” he said.
“But something must have made you start thinking about it today,” Liz said. “You had a bad day at work?”
“No, no,” Bill said. “Nothing like that.”
“Then what?” Liz said.
Bill pursed his lips, hedging.
“I saw a woman today,” he said.
“Is that an unusual occurrence?” Liz said. “We do make up half the population. You ought to see us sometimes.”
“No, not like that,” Bill said. “She’s not a patient. There’s a woman I see every day on the way to work in the mornings. Every day I just see her and carry on reading my newspaper. She looks like a traveller, like she’s done a thing or two in her life. And then today I decided to talk to her.”
A shadow of concern crossed Liz’s face.
“We got chatting,” Bill went on, “and do you know what I found out? She wasn’t a traveller. She hasn’t seen the world or experienced new things. She’s rarely even left the valley. And I felt sorry for her. Because she’ll never see anything beyond what she sees with her own two eyes. It made me think about my own life, about the things I want to do with you and the kids before I die.”
“You were always the settled down type,” Liz said. “The one to never take risks.”
“I wasn’t like that before we got married,” Bill said. “Do you remember? We would jump on the back of my old bike, death trap that it was, and go driving, letting the road take us wherever it wanted.”
“You can’t do that with four children, Bill,” Liz said.
“Why not?” Bill said. “Why can’t we go to another country and have an adventure? It’ll do the kids some good to see another culture, another world. It doesn’t have to be forever, just a year or two, or longer if we wanted. We could return home anytime.”
“What about our friends and family?” Liz said.
“They’ll be here when we get back,” Bill said.
“What if something happens and they get ill?” Liz said.
“Then we’ll come back,” Bill said.
“What if it happens the instant we leave and we have to come straight back again?” Liz said. “Neither of our mothers are spring chickens, you know.”
“Then just one of us will come back,” Bill said.
“One of us?” Liz said.
Bill hung his shoulders.
“We can come up with excuses not to go all day,” he said. “But really there’s nothing stopping us except ourselves. Do you remember when we got married? We said every day was going to be an adventure, that we would live every moment like it was our last… Now we’ve gotten stuck in a rut, a routine. Nothing feels new or different anymore.”
“There are easier ways to try something new,” Liz said. “We don’t have to travel halfway around the world. We all have our own lives now. It’s not easy to just uproot them.”
Bill sighed.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Maybe it’s too late and it’s a silly idea.”
Liz climbed into bed and kissed Bill on the forehead.
“Let’s get a good night’s sleep and think about this more in the morning, okay?” she said.
“All right,” Bill said.
Liz leaned over and turned out the light. Bill lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling.
III
BILL’S EYES flickered up at Liz every few seconds. He never even noticed the headline of the newspaper: ‘The Walking Dead in Baghdad?’ and a fuzzy image of a gang staggering down an alleyway.
Breakfast was as tumultuous as always, Jack reaching over, blocking Fritz’s reflection, his scowl promising to deliver the same retribution as the previous day. But this time Bill was up on his feet helping Jack with his backpack, and Fritz returned to his system of self-preening. Liz made the sandwiches in silence, pointedly not looking in Bill’s direction.
Bill picked his lunch up off the table and followed the boys out the door. He picked up his hat and coat from the coat hanger and turned to give Liz his customary goodbye kiss, only she wasn’t there. He turned and closed the door behind himself with a little more force than necessary.
IV
THE TRAM was jammed, with people perched on every seat and standing in the aisle. The tram jerked to a stop. The doors slid open. Bill held up his paper to create a barrier. He received angry scowls from the gentlemen on either side of him, but he did not lower his paper.
A pair of red high heels entered his vision, under the bottom of his newspaper. They turned toward him, hesitated a moment, and then turned away. Bill’s shoulders relaxed.
He lowered the paper and peered over the top. He could make out the woman’s beautiful smooth-cheeked profile as she read her magazine.
V
BILL WROTE out a prescription and handed it to Mr. Zimmermann, who was buttoning up his shirt.
“Take this to the pharmacy and they’ll prepare your medication for you,” Bill said.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Mr. Zimmermann said.
He opened the door and was startled to find Dennis standing there, grinning ear to ear.
“Take it easy, Mr. Zimmermann,” Dennis said.
Mr. Zimmermann’s smile was polite but tight.
“Hope you don’t accidentally fall down the stairs on your way out,” Dennis said.
He waited until Mr. Zimmermann was out of earshot.
“The cheek of some people,” Dennis said, shaking his head. “You get one diagnosis wrong and they’re changing doctors faster than you can say honest mistake.”
“It’s every patient’s prerogative,” Bill said, putting away his equipment.
“Not when my patient list is always declining!” Dennis said.
“Maybe you should work on making more correct diagnoses,” Bill said.
“Maybe they should work on getting more common afflictions,” Dennis said.
“You’re right,” Bill said. “Urinary tract infections are exceptionally rare.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Dennis said.
Bill took his white coat off and hung it up.
“Your advice could do with some work too,” he said.
Dennis’s eyes gleamed.
“So, how did the meeting with the young lady go?” he said.
“It went fine,” Bill said.
“As well as all that, huh?” Dennis said. “What’s the matter? Equipment malfunction?”
“No,” Bill said. “I just talked with her.”
“Talk?” Dennis said.
“It’s what you do with your lips,” Bill said.
“Believe me, you don’t need to
educate me about what to do with my lips,” Dennis said. “Did you at least relieve your stress?”
“Not in the same way as you, I’ll bet,” Bill said.
Dennis chuckled to himself.
“Shame on you,” he said.
“She made me open my eyes about a few things,” he said.
Dennis beamed.
“That’s what they’re there for,” he said. “Believe me, some of the young women I’ve met do things you wouldn’t believe. Things I’d never imagined. I swear, if I were a young man now…”
He shook his head at all the missed opportunities.
“I need adventure,” Bill said, “and I’m not going to get it in this part of the world. I spoke to Elizabeth and the boys about it but they don’t seem interested.”
“Some people are natural risk-takers,” Dennis said. “Some aren’t.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Bill said.
“Well, right now we’re going to lunch,” Dennis said. “We can discuss it more then. Come on.”
Fritz
I
“WHY ARE girls so difficult to understand?” Fritz said. “They don’t even look at me.”
“What are you talking about?” Frederick said. “They always look at you! They swoon over your platinum blond curls. Some of the guys too.”
“Not the pretty girls,” Fritz said.
Frederick shook his head. They were walking the corridors on their way to maths.
“Do you know why I failed in P.E. yesterday?” Fritz said.
“Because Beauty isn’t interested in you in the slightest?” Frederick said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Fritz said. “That’s just defeatism talking.”
“Go on then, enlighten me,” Frederick said. “Why did you fail yesterday?”
“It’s Beauty,” Fritz said. “She doesn’t realise it’s me she wants. If we can make her realise what she wants, what she’s missing, she’ll have no choice but to succumb to the same desires as the rest of the female population.”
“And how do you intend on doing that, exactly?” Frederick said. “This isn’t Inception. We can’t just take a little trip into her consciousness and reprogram the way she thinks.”
“Sure we can, and we don’t need to do anything nearly so obtrusive,” Fritz said. “What we’re going to do is make her friends say how handsome and desirable I am. Once she hears that a million times she’ll be brainwashed.”
“How are you going to get them to say those things?” Frederick said.
Fritz smiled and slapped Frederick on the back.
“Simple, my friend,” he said. “I’ll promise each of them a date. They’ll be so excited they’ll tell Beauty all about it.”
“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Frederick said. “I mean, that’s a lot of dates.”
“That’s the beauty of this plan,” Fritz said. “I don’t have to go on a date with any of them! Only make the promise.”
“Honourability certainly is your strong suit,” Frederick said, rolling his eyes. “When are you planning on doing this, exactly?”
“I’ve already put the plan into action,” Fritz said. “I’ve arranged dates with each of her train-smoking friends already.”
Frederick skidded to a halt.
“Wait,” he said. “Which ones?”
“All of them,” Fritz said. “Just to be sure.”
“All of them?” Frederick said.
“Fate favours the prepared mind,” Fritz said.
“How did you manage to convince them all they wanted to go on a date with you?” Frederick said.
“They already wanted to,” Fritz said. “I just had to ask them.”
“But they are always slagging you off!” Frederick said.
“They didn’t mean it,” Fritz said. “It was all just a cover.”
“How did you know that?” Frederick said.
Fritz shrugged.
“A man knows when a woman likes him,” he said.
“Do they?” Frederick said. “I don’t.”
“That’s because no one likes you,” Fritz said.
“Oh,” Frederick said. “Thanks.”
“Any time,” Fritz said.
Frederick shook his head.
“Nothing can possibly go wrong with this plan,” he said.
II
A GIRL with tattoos on the inside of her wrists looked over at Fritz for the twelfth time that lesson and smiled, revealing a beautiful set of white teeth. The same happened all the way through English, only the girl had brown hair. Every so often she turned to her partner, Beauty, and whispered in her ear. Fritz pretended not to notice.
In maths, Fritz paired up with Melissa, who laughed louder than necessary at his jokes and tucked her blonde hair behind her ear.
“I’m exhausted!” Fritz said to Frederick at lunch. “Trying to keep all these girls entertained at the same time is a fulltime job!”
“Have you done enough?” Frederick said.
“If I haven’t, I give up,” Fritz said.
Just then Beauty and her friends passed by, on their way to the smokers’ corner. Fritz and Frederick huddled behind a pillar and listened.
“Jamie invited me to a party Friday night,” Melissa said. “Are you going?”
“Friday?” the tattooed girl said. “No, I already have plans.”
“What plans?” Melissa said.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the tattooed girl said with a superior smile.
“Yes,” Melissa said. “That’s why I asked.”
“All right, girls,” Beauty said. “We’re allowed to have private plans if we want.”
Melissa folded her arms.
“Well, I’m going on a date,” she said.
“Yeah?” the tattooed girl said. “Me too.”
“Who’s your date?” Melissa said.
“Only the hottest guy in school,” the tattooed girl said.
“That’s impossible because I’m going on a date with the hottest guy in school,” Melissa said with a triumphant expression. “I’m going on a date with Fritz Flower.”
The tattooed girl stopped.
“You’re going on a date with him?” she said. “But I’m going on a date with him!”
Melissa frowned.
“When?” she said.
“Friday night,” the tattooed girl said.
“But you can’t be,” Melissa said. “I’m dating him then.”
“No you’re not!” the brunette from English said. “I’m dating him Friday night!”
“Looks like I’m much in demand,” Fritz said triumphantly to Frederick. “Look at Beauty. She’s deliberating. She’s considering me as a potential mate.”
“What is this?” Frederick said. “A wildlife documentary? You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” Fritz said. “But I’m going to date Beauty and that makes me less insane, doesn’t it?”
“Oh-oh. You’ll want to watch this,” Frederick said, pointing to the girls. “Something’s happening.”
“Something’s going on here…” Melissa said.
“Too right there is,” the tattooed girl said. “I’m getting a serious sense of deja vu.”
“What are you talking about?” Melissa said.
“Daniel Rochester, that’s what I’m talking about!” the tattooed girl said.
There was a pause.
“That was two years ago,” Melissa said, slightly cowed.
“It still happened though, didn’t it?” the tattooed girl said. “Or maybe I imagined the hushed whispers behind my back and the secret liaisons late at night? This time I’m not putting up with it. You’re going to let me have this date with Fritz.”
Melissa folded her arms.
“Not all dates are created equal,” she said.
“What about me?” the brunette said. “I haven’t had a boyfriend in years!”
“You’re not going to let me have him?” the tattooed one said. “Neither of you?”
“Not until you deserve him,” Melissa said.
The tattooed girl screeched and launched herself at Melissa. They hit the ground, screaming, grabbing handfuls of each other’s hair, tugging and pulling and jerking. The brunette joined in, seizing a handful of each of the other girl’s hair. They tore at one another with their long nails, pulling out piercings, causing blood to run down their faces.
“Oh no…” Fritz said, turning pale.
“You wanted them to display their affection,” Frederick said.
“Not like this!” Fritz said. “They’re going to make it look like only crazy women are interested in me!”
“There’s not a hint of truth to that, I’m sure,” Frederick said.
A crowd gathered around the combatants. Melissa kicked the brunette in the stomach. Melissa was then rugby tackled to the ground by the tattooed girl. Expletives spilled from the girls’ mouths.
“Will you all stop it?” Beauty screamed.
Fritz shook his head.
“I’ll never be able to understand how women think if I only ever see women from here,” Fritz said.
“Why do you need to understand women at all?” Frederick said.
“Because there’s so much diversity out there!” Fritz said. “All the different women and their different cultures, their different accents and ways of speaking. I need to get away from here and explore the world and its women.”
“What you should be doing is going out there and stopping them from tearing each other apart!” Frederick said.
“You’re right,” Fritz said, standing up. “Somebody should do something.”
He turned and ran in the opposite direction.
Liz
I
“WHERE’S ANGEL?” Liz said.
“She returned to Zurich on urgent business,” her mother said.
Liz nodded, making no comment. Liz’s mother took a sip of her tea and sat it down on its saucer. Liz wrung her hands. On the drive over she’d put the words together in her mind but now that she tried to recall them they wouldn’t come to her.