by Dawn Dumont
Taz strode into the bedroom, his hair thick with water. Once it was wet, it took forever to dry. He looked her over, paused slightly on her face, before pulling his T-shirt over his head. While he put on his jeans, she reached for her make up bag.
Maybe she didn’t have to walk around with a naked face all the time. There would be teenage girls there. The bane of our existence, Nellie had said the other day. Julie had laughed but then she started noticing them. Their skin: fair, plump and luscious. Their bodies crammed into shorts and tank tops carelessly showing off their smooth, gravity-defying curves.
Fucking Nellie.
Julie put on a layer of mascara, then another. Then smoothed on some lip-gloss. A brightened woman stared back at her. It looked like the same face she’d always seen but it was hard to notice time on your own face. That’s what friends were for.
Julie hesitated at the door — jacket or no? She decided in favour of free hands.
They listened to a talk radio show on the way. One man moderated as two men discussed how much money the “Indians” wasted in this province. Julie hated listening to it but Taz liked to know what the “enemy” was thinking.
The fair parking lot was crammed full of cars. Taz drove around and around the parking lot trying to get as close as possible but still wanting to maintain distance between his car and everyone else’s.
“It’s not going to happen Taz.” Julie said, adding a sigh where perhaps a sigh wasn’t necessary.
“I didn’t want you to have to walk far.”
Julie held up her foot. “Flats, see? I’m a practical woman.”
He put the car into reverse and backed down the road. Julie watched their progress in the rear view mirror. Taz was a very good driver; precise and controlled but maybe a bit too fast.
Julie heard the sounds of kids screaming when he got out of the car. Then the rattle of the roller coaster. Taz stretched in front of the car.
“Wait.” She sprayed his back with mosquito juice.
It was the small things that made a relationship. Julie had seen that on Oprah. Or maybe she made it up. Probably she heard Nellie say it.
He grabbed her hand as they got close to the gate. Their hands were the same size, which made sense because they were almost the same height. When they were first dating he used to call her, “my giraffe,” which she liked.
As he paid their entrance fee, Julie glanced at the families trudging out. Moms, sweaty and harried. Dads, red-faced, walking slightly ahead, looking back impatiently: “Hurry up.” Moms yelling back: “Why don’t you help me!” Children whining, and caramel apples everywhere. She grinned.
Taz led her towards the midway. Carneys called out to them. “Hey there, win a bear for your angel!”
Taz elbowed her, “They’re talking to you.”
Julie rolled her eyes.
Taz stopped at the gun game. The carney hurried up to them, “Five for a small, twenty for a large!” The guy had a lisp. Julie wondered how he had gotten control of such a big game. She imagined the struggle he must have faced to get where he was.
She imagined him standing up to the boss, those awkward few nights before people started believing in him, then victory as he overcame prejudice by having a few successful nights. She smiled to herself, more likely he was the boss’ nephew.
She leaned against the game and watched as Taz shot the hell out of the star. The carney wasn’t happy as he pulled the paper off the clip. The star was obliterated.
“You a hunter or something?”
“Why? Is it against the law now to win this stupid game?”
“Not many people can shoot like that.”
“Give me my fucking prize.”
The guy looked like he was gonna cry. Julie turned away.
She stared at the Orange Julius stand behind them. She walked closer to inspect it. Who bought Orange Julius anyway? It was just orange juice, why was it so expensive? Were they paying extra for the pulp?
“What are you looking at?”
He had a gorilla under his arm. It was the size of a ten year old child.
“We have to carry that thing around?”
“We should go on some rides.”
He led her into the crush, she trailed behind him trying to dodge the bodies coming at her.
Guess my weight. Guess my age. Guess my job.
A child screamed, a boy, about four years old. His face was red with frustration. He held his hands up, signalling his desire to be comforted. A woman knelt in front of him.
A group of Native teen girls, heavy on the eyeliner, laughed into their hands about something only they would understand. The prettiest one noticed her and gave her a lookover. At least someone was looking. Then one of the girls noticed Taz and called out, “grand chief!” He wagged his finger at them, “Stay out of trouble!” and they giggled.
Women sat on the stools at the bingo table. They weren’t playing, just fanning themselves with the cards.
When Julie was a kid she used to stand by the bingo game waiting. The guy who ran the stand wouldn’t let kids sit down. He said the seats were only for players. Sometimes she got so tired she would sit on the ground. She’d watch people walk by with fries and she thought about running past them and stealing them out of their hands. But she never did it because she wasn’t a fast runner.
“I could get fries right now.”
“What did you say?”
“You want some fries?”
“I wanna go on some rides. We can eat after.”
“Okay.”
He bought some tickets. Too many, Julie figured as she held the giant ape. It was heavy. It wasn’t going into her house, she knew that much at least, and would be in the garage before the week was through.
They went on the roller coaster. Taz chose the front seats. As the car rode towards the top, Julie looked down and saw the giant ape standing next to the carney.
“Kind of crazy, huh?”
“You can see a lot from up here.”
“You can almost see our house.”
“Few years we got to get out of there.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s on the wrong side of town.”
The car passed over the crest and then anxiously rushed back towards earth. Julie’s neck went one way, then the other, her hair swished across her face like car wash brush.
The car stopped with a jolt that Julie could feel right through her body.
“We should go on again.”
“Okay.”
They rejoined the line. He started talking to the teenage girls in front of them. He pretended to make the ape talk in a British accent. The girls were killing themselves laughing. Julie leaned on the metal fence around the ride. She balanced her hand on the top of the railing and rubbed it there.
The next time around, she only noticed the air on her face. It was hard to breathe. “I don’t know what happened that time but it got my heart racing crazy-like.”
She bent over and took some deep breaths.
“Jesus Julie, you’re getting old.”
Julie turned away from him. She looked across the fairway, at the crowds of people and felt their tiredness moving across her like a cloud. A blue jacket caught her eye. Dark denim like one she had at home. It was a skinny Native kid watching the crowd. Then, when he thought no one was looking he reached into the garbage bin beside him. He was poking through the food. He pulled out a tray of fries and began to eat them.
“Taz.”
“What?”
“That kid is eating from the garbage.”
Taz watched the kid shove the fries into his mouth like someone was gonna snatch them away. Taz walked over slowly like a hunter. The kid looked at him sideways, a foot poised to run. Taz said something. The kid laughed. She watched as Taz handed the kid some money and a bunch of tickets. Then he offered the kid the gorilla. The kid looked hesitant — it was really big and a pain in the ass to carry — but he took it anyway.
Taz had a big smile w
hen he got back to her.
Julie gave him a peck on the cheek. Some drunk idiot woohed.
“I got ten tickets left. What ride you want next?”
“Ferris Wheel?”
Taz counted out the tickets and handed them to the carney, a wan-looking girl about sixteen. She looked like she didn’t have the muscles to open the door much less run the ride.
Julie grinned as Taz let her slide in first. “This was my favourite ride at the fair when I was a kid.”
“Not me, I was always on the zipper.”
“I like how far you can see. And it always goes the longest.”
“Where’s the office?”
“We’re facing the wrong direction.”
Taz turned behind them; the cart shook.
“Taz, don’t do that.”
“I knew I could scare you.”
She laughed and hoped that was the end of it.
The wind hit them at the top. The cart lifted up and then floated back again. She shivered.
“You cold?” Taz took off his jacket and handed it to her. Julie leaned her head on his shoulder.
Taz kissed the top of her head.
“I went to the doctor today.”
“Why?”
“To get that mole burned off my neck.”
“Good, that thing was gross.”
Julie laughed. “Anyways, ’cause I was there already, we decided to do a pregnancy test.” She searched his face.
“And?” She couldn’t read him; could she ever?
“It was positive.”
Taz frowned. “For real?”
“Aren’t you happy?”
“How many months?”
“Not sure. Maybe two?”
They went down and came back up again.
“You’re not happy?”
“I’ll be happy when it’s born. Right now you’re another thing to worry about.” He put his hand on hers.
She nodded.
The wind gusted again and Julie reached up with her free hand to brush her hair out of her eyes. She let it move downwards to her eyebrow and felt that little dent. Nobody knew it was there except her. Nobody expects you to be perfect, she reminded herself, but it bothered her.
“You wanna go again?” Taz had some tickets left.
“No, once is enough. Fries?”
“You got a one-track mind tonight.”
She smiled and led the direction to the fry cart.
He tugged her arm. “I dunno, babe. I gotta watch my weight.”
“They’re for me.”
“Go get them then, Chubs.”
She stopped. Then restarted herself. Fries, fries, fries, fries. She weighed the same as she did when she was fifteen. All the women in her family were bony like that. Until the day she died, they told her that her mom looked like a boy from behind. She got to the cart and reached for her wallet. She remembered then seeing her wallet lying on the dresser with that raggedy five-dollar bill stuffed in its folds.
The man in the cart smiled down at her. “Watcha want, honey?”
Julie stared up at him. She had a feeling — totally crazy of course — that if she looked beside her, she would see a dark head of hair, slightly uncombed, a tiny face tilted upwards, hopeful that someone would be kind.
The Baby Shower
November 2007
“YOU’RE LATE,” NELLIE INTONED at the front door. Her face was still covered with the acne that started the day she got pregnant and continued through the nine months. “Everyone else gets a glow, I get a grease stain,” Nellie would say.
Julie saw a wet mark down the front of Nellie’s T-shirt, near her left breast and tried not to stare at it.
Taz pushed his way past Nellie dragging Julie behind him.
“This one had to run around town trying to pick up another gift for your kid — and some stupid cupcakes, do babies even eat cupcakes?” Taz went into the kitchen. “Do you have any beer?”
Nellie’s eyes went to the cupcakes in Julie’s arms. “Thank you,” she said robotically. A glass smashed in the other room. They both flinched. “There are a lot of people here. I wish I hadn’t let my mom plan this.”
Julie patted her on the shoulder. “Where’s the baby?”
“With my mom in the bedroom.”
“How is Natalie?”
“She wants to be called Gammy. Sounds so dumb.”
Julie raised her eyebrows and went to the bedroom. Julie could hear Nellie’s feet shuffling behind her.
He was dressed in an Oilers hockey jersey with tiny sweatpants and shoes. His face was red.
Julie stopped in front. She ran her finger over his forehead and down his soft, protruding cheeks. “So chubby.”
“Very,” his grandmother said proudly. “Big already.”
“Like his fat mom,” Nellie leaned against the wall.
“Shut up,” Julie said sharply. “Your son’s a month old. Give yourself a break for God’s sake.”
“And change your shirt, you look nuts.” Natalie added.
“Jesus I have a baby and everyone thinks they’re the boss of me.”
Still, she walked into her closet and closed the door.
“She’s not sleeping well,” Natalie explained. “I keep trying to get her to sleep. But she thinks she’s supposed to do everything.”
Everett and Taz walked in. Both of them had beers going.
“You’re drinking?” Julie asked. Nellie had been so proud that he hadn’t drank through the whole pregnancy.
“Like a fish.” Natalie said sharply.
“Just celebrating,” Everett said and knocked his beer against Taz’s, who wasn’t ready.
Taz’s beer spilled down his shirt. “Oh for fuck sakes.” He looked at Julie — she handed him a towel lying on the dresser.
“What about your mushum? Didn’t he ask you to quit?” Julie watched Everett shift his weight from side to side, like a kid too shy to ask for the bathroom.
“No willpower.” Natalie spit out.
“Yup,” Everett agreed. “Hey little man.” He swooped in and took the baby from Natalie’s reluctant arms.
Taz inspected him. “He’s a bruiser.”
“Fuck, yeah.”
“Support his neck,” Natalie snapped.
Everett rolled his eyes.
“Can I hold him?” Julie asked.
Everett handed him over. He was heavy; a solid, strong little baby. He stared up at Julie; his eyes intense like his mother’s.
“Hello,” she whispered. “I’m your auntie Julie.”
She sat down on the bed and shut them all out. She heard Natalie needling Everett about child support; she heard Taz asking about the game; she heard Nellie come out of the closet and chase everyone out — “You left my guests alone in the living room!” But she didn’t take her eyes off of Malcolm. An old fashioned name. She liked that. She hoped no one ever called him Mel or gave him some stupid nickname that lived with him for his entire life like people did on the rez. She knew a guy who had been called “Poop monkey” since he was five years old. And then there was Taz. Hardly anyone knew his name was Nathan.
Julie watched his chest rise and fall, so much effort to stay alive. She wished they could jump forward in time until he was less fragile.
“I stopped nursing,” Nellie said. “He was killing my nipples.”
Julie nodded.
“I hate changing diapers. Maybe it’s because he’s a boy but they are super-gross. It’s all soft and runny — like the worst ice cream flavour ever.”
Julie laughed.
Nellie held out her arm. “Look at how my veins are all sticking out. My doctor says they’ll go back in but what the fuck — whoever heard of that happening?”
Julie shrugged.
“And my stomach looks like a deflated balloon,” Nellie was on a roll. “I stuff it into my pants. Like I thought I knew what a pot-belly looked like before, but this is . . . Hello?”
Julie looked up and smiled. “I’ve fa
llen in love.”
“Oh well, that’s okay.”Nellie sat on the bed beside her. “Totally understandable.”
There was a cake in the shape of a car. The adults stood around it and thought about what they should sing. One of Nellie’s friends said that there wasn’t actually a song for baby showers.
Julie held Malcolm for most of the time, which meant she had to walk through everyone so that they could get a look at him. She was being greedy but couldn’t stop herself and the only person who could have stopped her was eating cupcake after cupcake with mechanical precision.
“When do you want to leave?” Taz asked her.
“I want to help clean up. You can go.”
He sighed, shrugged and went and grabbed another beer from the fridge. He joined Everett standing on the balcony.
“I love your hair,” a young, blonde woman told Julie.
“It’s so edgy but it works on you,” said an older woman.
Nellie looked up from her cupcake. “You should have seen it before she cut it.” A bit of icing was on the corner of her mouth. “At least this haircut brings her down to mortal status.”
“You look like a movie star,” the blonde woman insisted.
Julie’s arms were killing her by the time she handed Malcolm over to his grandmother. She was about to plop herself on the couch when she felt a pain in her belly out of nowhere. Liar, you’ve been ignoring that ache all day. She walked to the bathroom and pushed the door open. She stood there without turning the light on.
How bad is it? I’m not a doctor. Then go to the doctor. I can’t.
Last time, she was in the hospital. It was nurse who told her what had happened. She asked for the doctor and he delivered the news again in a heavily accented voice: “The baby is gone.” And then after Julie’s prodding, “A girl.” Her girl had gone. It sounded so gentle like she had left for the library or went swimming with her friends.
This time she had worked things out in her head. If it was a boy he would play hockey with Nellie’s son. If it was a girl, she and Nellie would fight over dressing her and doing her hair. Julie had imagined a closetful of cute clothes. She imagined that little hand in hers.