Release Candidate

  ‘It would be.’ said Marilyn. ‘But my bank balance hasn’t dried up yet if needs be.’ she placed her hand on the back of Tomás’s chair. ‘We’ll look tomorrow, but until you’ve come out alright after that foul stuff you’re taking we don’t have to be bullied around.’

  ‘So,’ Tomás coughed, ‘Dad. I hear you have something?’

  ‘Oh yes! I almost forgot. It is in the hallway.’ he smiled.

  A childish grin grew on Tomás’s face. He darted out.

  Perched against the front door was a large brown box with a black barcode and white plastic carry handle. As he moved closer a curly logo became visible on the side.

  “Fender”

  Tomás rushed to the box. He felt around the edges, pressing his fingertips in corners tight with brown staples. A moth seemed to touch his shoulder. Turning, he saw Marilyn with a hand on him. Her eyes squinted at the box.

  ‘I know what it is. But I think it’s more than what it is!’ he said. Finally denting a part of the box he started to scrape and reveal corrugation. Then through that soft layer a first glimpse of metallic blue. He pulled up the rest of the flapping box end as if opening a car hood. With a strong grip he slowly pulled out the bottom of the guitar. It got easier as the seemingly light fretboard thudded against the inside of the box. He didn’t blink as he turned the guitar around and eyed a series of digits.

  ‘This is more than what it is!’ he started laughing. He almost banged the guitar heading into the kitchen.

  ‘This must’ve cost you a bomb! How did you know?’

  ‘I called Haroon.’ Alberto chuckled. ‘He told me about a model he just about remembered you saying. He wasn’t really listening, you know, but he caught it. I mean while you’re here, my boy, you don’t want to be in front of the TV all the time.’

  ‘Mum. This is a signature series bass. See this little scribble on the back. This is what the guy from the band. That band. Uses. The pickups for that sound, the material... Everything... Hey, hold on. You talked to Haroon? Today?’

  ‘Before lunch. I told him you are fine and he tried to keep his feelings in like every young man does. He says he will wait for you to contact first.’

  ‘Well, that makes things kind of easier.’ Tomás puffed his cheeks and deflated them.

  ‘But you like the gift, son?’

  ‘Like?’ he laughed.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get you an amplifier. It is called that, isn’t it? Haroon couldn’t help me there. And my wallet is a bit thin right now.’

  ‘Dad. Honestly! This is more than enough from you. Just to look at it has made my day!’

  ‘No. It has made my day.’

  ‘Well, I suppose it costs less than a funeral.’

  ‘Tomás!’ Estela barked.

  ‘Sorry, Mum. Poor joke.’ he averted his wet eyes. ‘I’m going upstairs to have a little fiddle.’

  Alberto nodded.

  Tomás jogged hurriedly up to the bedroom. He minded the neck against the walls as if navigating through a super-sized wire loop game. Sitting on the bed he placed the guitar on his lap. Right hand fingers rested like a spider on the strings. The left hand held the neck tight. He looked around room objects, looking as if one would shout a song request. Closing his eyes momentarily and tapping his feet, he adjusted himself. He held down a note. Plucking it brought a smile to his face. After the note rang out he began to play a riff. The frets buzzed.

  ‘Fucking virgin fingers!’ he said to his opened fret hand.

  Trying the riff again with harder pressure yielded a better tone. He began playing a follow-on riff. An off note made him pause. Trying again and hitting another bad one elicited a sigh. Tomás stamped a foot. Marilyn slowly pried the door open.

  ‘It goes with your clothes.’ she said.

  ‘I’ve been playing bass for many years and nothing’s running through my head. No, I lie. I can recall one riff which is the most basic piece of crap anyone can do.’

  ‘Ah, don’t be hard on yourself! It’s been a while.’

  ‘I suppose.’ he lightly hovered fret fingers into cascading patterns.

  Marilyn tilted her head. She pressed her lips together and squinted.

  ‘You know Withdraw, don’t you? I’ve heard you play that a lot.’

  ‘Ah!’ he nodded. He played three notes slowly. Smiling to himself, he sped into the rest of the intro. Some few notes further he stopped. ‘But I know that like the back of my...’ he huffed.

  ‘What about Valiant Game?’

  ‘Leave it.’ he rested the guitar against the wall with the respect for a mop. ‘Nothing’s happening tonight.’

  ‘Should we order your stuff now, maybe?’ she turned her head. ‘We should use my card. I don’t think you should be using yours, online banking.’

  ‘Yeah.’ he sighed.

  She picked up the laptop and sat beside him.

  ‘Tea, tea.’ shouted Estela some time later from below.

  They had finished shopping and proceeded to discuss medical articles. Marilyn insisted on seeing the day’s browser history. Tomás noted the delete button’s location.

  ‘In a minute, Mum!’ shouted Tomás.

  Marilyn looked at the computer clock. Two hours had passed.

  ‘I told you, Tomás. You could have all of those things or likely none of them. Your situation’s unique. You’re not acting too strange, though, you just seem irritated. I’m sure it’s the medicine.’

  ‘Don’t lynch me for being curious.’ he pushed the power button and walked out.

  Marilyn waited for the screen to blank. She closed the lid before following suit.

  Tomás screwed his face at the medicines laid on the counter.

  ‘Are the drug companies paying you or something, Mum?’

  ‘No talk back.’ Estela stroked one of his cheeks.

  Tomás slowly walked to the counter under Marilyn’s pushing gaze. The pill went down easily with water. The liquid produced the expected facial expression. He sat down to tea, fairy cakes and chocolate fingers.

  Alberto walked in with Gus dancing around him. Tomás looked at Gus with wide eyes.

  ‘Oh yeah.’ said Tomás. ‘Before I go out I want to cut my hair, have a bath. I want to go for the football hooligan look, actually. We still have that shaving kit, Mum?’

  ‘Think so. Not use in long time. Since you boy!’

  ‘If we do, I’ll do it here. Saves money. I want to shave my head just to feel like I’m properly reborn. And to stop scratching.’

  ‘Okay. But I not sure do so good now.’ she looked at Marilyn.

  Marilyn took a bigger sip of tea than she meant. Nodding, she pulled a chocolate finger without looking up.

  ‘I think you should meet Haroon as soon as you can.’ said Alberto. ‘A healthy mind will wonder if not occupied, son.’

  Tomás nodded. He reached for a chocolate finger Marilyn narrowly missed. Gus sat beside him as he ate. He smiled at the dog whose eyes seemed to smile back.

  ‘I better hit the sack, then.’ he crunched. ‘I don’t know what my battery level is to be pushing myself without proper rest at the moment.’

  ‘You be fine. But is good idea.’

  Marilyn woke to the muffled sound of running water. She yawned and slowly swerved to the bed’s edge. Arching her back, she looked at the carpet and breathed out. Her watch curled up on the bedside table showed it was nearly half seven. As she rubbed her eyes Tomás broke the silence with his pattering bare feet. He’d shaved his face and had a towel around him.

  ‘Great. You’re awake. Care to help me out?’ he pointed to his head.

  ‘What?’

  ‘My cabbage, remember? I want it off and wash up. I’m not good enough to do it myself. I found the shaver in a beaten-up box. I had to shake off some hairs that must’ve be mine from when I was nine! I always went to the barber after that.’

  ‘Oh. Alright.’ she stroked her hair. ‘What’s the rush, though?’

  ‘Not so early, it’s daylight
now. You’re not going to see me wasting hours any more.’

  ‘Mmm.’ she yawned again. ‘Just let me stretch.’

  ‘Cool. I’ll be in the tub.’ he walked out.

  She heard what resembled an elephant getting on top of a slide. Dreary-eyed, she walked barefoot to the bathroom. Her eyes widened at the sight of Tomás resting in the bath: arm on leg, face on arm. The view resembled a beige, male version of Picasso’s Blue Nude. She breathed in deeply.

  ‘On the sink.’ he said to his wrist.

  Marilyn walked forward and picked up the heavy white clipper wirelessly linked to the wall. She flicked the switch. Its buzz throbbed in her hands. Moving towards Tomás the wireless light lengthened. He looked up at her.

  ‘Just run it straight over.’

  She pressed her hand on his head. The hair had the consistency of straw. Her other hand slowly connected to the back of his neck and glided upward down the middle. A clump of hair fell on his lap. She had created a reverse Mohawk. As the clipper hummed around him Tomás looked at the small cleavage defined in her light blue vest. He pressed his knees together and closed his eyes. Marilyn remained trained on moving the shaver back and forth. He felt her go over again on uneven patches. Tomás gradually relaxed his knees. The shaver clicked off.

  ‘Nice one.’ he felt his scalp.

  Marilyn ran out.

  His hair-speckled face broke into tears. He banged the side of the tub. One hand grabbed shampoo while the other turned the taps to emit sheets of noise.

  After dressing up, Tomás stood in front of the hallway mirror. He turned his head to nod at the clothes. Adjusting his top button he walked back to the bedroom and closed the door. Picking up his mobile he speed-dialled “Harry”. Several rings later the speaker crackled.

  ‘Hello.’ said Haroon.

  Tomás held his breath.

  ‘Tommy?’

  ‘What’s up?’ Tomás cleared invisible phlegm.

  ‘Is that really you?’

  ‘Er, yeah. Bit of an anti-climax for me. How’s it for you?’

  ‘What the hell?’ he laughed. ‘Tell me I’ve got the wrong number.’

  ‘No. You’ve got the right one. Marilyn didn’t get to take the phone. How’s that for drama?’

  ‘Fucking hell! You should see the smile that’s aching my face, man. But it’s not going to sink in until I’ve hung out with you a bit, you know? Suss out if you’re the real deal.’ he paused. ‘Not that I think you’re not, but you get me?’

  ‘Of course I do. And that’s why I dialled. I’ve only really put my feet up a bloody day but it seems like a year. As far as I know I just have to not go running any marathons. So, I was thinking, we could meet when it gets dark? It would need to be some odd place for now. News of my death must not be under-exaggerated, or something, at the moment.’

  ‘I get the drill. Well, how about after I clock out?’

  ‘No one would suspect either of us surrounded by books.’

  Haroon laughed.

  ‘First I’m going around sussing out places, put in a request somewhere or something. I don’t have to leave the planet, but I’m going to be in deep crap if some cunt gets word and phones the tabloids. Or tries. So I’ll let you know if there’s a change of plan, but let’s say six for now?’

  ‘That’s fine. I never thought I’d hear you, or well... When your dad phoned up I don’t think we ever talked so much before.’

  ‘Ah, right. And hey, cheers for your little part in my new toy. I never thought you did pay attention to those one-sided conversations. It touched me that you remembered just a small thing like a model number.’

  ‘Touched? I’m always sponging things in my head subconsciously, bro. You just go back over stuff when you think you won’t hear any more.’

  ‘Well, you will.’ Tomás forced a laugh. ‘I’ve got a lot more crap in store for you.’

  ‘Alright, man. I’m sitting by the window and I think I missed a couple of customers who thought about coming in ‘til they saw lazy me. I’m the only one here at the moment.’

  ‘You take care, then. See you later.’

  ‘Laters, bro.’

  Tomás pocketed his mobile and went downstairs. No one was in the kitchen. He heard Gus bark beyond the sink window. Slipping through the kitchen’s back door he found Marilyn on their bench. Gus galloped to her across the lawn, stick in mouth. She rubbed Gus’s head and threw the stick.

  ‘Just had words with Haroon.’ he sat beside her.

  She focused on Gus’s tail.

  ‘We’re meeting later on.’ he added.

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘So, are you going to stay in your slippers?’

  ‘I just want to sit here for a bit.’

  ‘Look. Don’t just run away from me.’

  Marilyn sighed. Gus returned the stick. Marilyn continued to look in the distance. Gus dropped the stick and panted.

  ‘I’m honestly over the moon.’ said Marilyn. ‘But if I’m honest too, this body, is not who I married. I feel like I’m a whore by allowing myself to share a bed with you. Even if literally just sharing a bed.’

  ‘That kind of flatters me. Don’t get cut up about it, though. I’ve only just come back.’

  ‘No, I don’t think you get it. Though they made you look kind of okay and all, you’re not giving off the signals you used to. And I don’t mean that in a heartless way. If there was a shred of skin on you that was still yours, I know I could deal with it better. I have no problems touching you, but I can’t take it further.’

  ‘So you want to leave me or something?’ his tone was something off a soap opera.

  ‘No.’ she grunted. ‘I still love you!’ she touched his hand. ‘But I mean, what you were. I think. Maybe I will come round but I don’t see it happening quickly. I don’t feel excited in that way by being with you.’

  ‘That’s deep.’ he looked at Gus. The dog’s head was on its paws. ‘Maybe you’re better off with a picture and your fingers in your knickers.’

  ‘Look. Never mind. I’ll go get ready.’

  ‘You do that. Leave the kitchen, we’ll find a café somewhere.’

  ‘I’m just saying what I feel, Tomás.’ she stood up.

  ‘No, that’s good.’ his voice lacked depth. ‘There’s more to this life than just that. Don’t need two to tango. Look at Mum and Dad now, even.’

  Gus shadowed Marilyn through the kitchen.

  After Marilyn got ready they walked to the Tube station. They scanned their passes on the readers. A low whine from the tracks sped up their descent to the platform.

  ‘Please mind the gap,’ said the tannoy, ‘between the cranes and the bad forms.’

  The doors opened as they reached the platform. The train birthed eager commuters. It hissed with the boarding of its new children. After a tearful-sounding whistle the doors thudded shut. Finding no seats, Tomás and Marilyn stood facing each other by the carriage doors. With a jolt the train clunked onward.

  ‘I thought my ears got more dodgy since I became ill, on the underground. But the speakers still sound weird to me.’ he looked around at other passengers who seemed to be staring at and ignoring him. He looked out of the window at his reflection. It was made clear and ethereal by the tunnel’s darkness. Marilyn’s reflection in the corner of his eye observed animated ceiling adverts.

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  When their stop arrived they walked up towards a blank white sky. As they reached the top Tomás grabbed her arm. His grip was hard.

  ‘Marilyn.’ he whispered. ‘I think you should walk a few steps behind me, okay? Just in case someone spots us, if you see? Inside places is fine until we see people.’

  She nodded and continued up.

  There they were greeted by the windy bustle of the high street. Masses of shops and places to eat were in eye-shot. Roads were filled with cars. Walking space was restricted by briefcase, carrier bagged or backpacked automatons. A yard apart the couple zebra-crossed to the other side. T
omás played the stereotype of straight-ahead walking male while Marilyn glanced sideways at shop displays. Tomás paused at the heavy-handle glass door of a franchise café. She followed him in. Glancing around the tables, a tilt of his head directed her to free seating. He stood in the queue and looked up at the black and white backlit menu. At first he squinted by habit.

  ‘Yes, sir. How may I help you?’ asked a late-teen male in a black shirt.

  Tomás continued to stare at the menu.

  ‘Sir?’

  Slowly reaching eye-level with the young man he leant forward. The young man almost laughed. Tomás grabbed him violently by the collar.

  ‘Where am I?’ shouted Tomás.

  The shaking young man chin-pointed at his badge. Tomás looked at it before easing his grip.

  The man adjusted his shirt. He walked out back, muttering under his breath. ‘You get some fucking freaks round here sometimes.’

  Tomás looked around at the customers fixed on him. They seemed carbon copies of those on their carriage. Marilyn screeched out of her chair.

  ‘Tomás!’ she hurried over.

  ‘What?’

  ‘What was that all about?’

  ‘What did I do?’

  A small young woman in a black shirt looked up at them.

  ‘Two teas, please.’ said Marilyn. ‘I’m sorry. He’s not been feeling well.’

  ‘Sit down. I’ll bring it over ta ya.’ she replied in a heavy Dublin accent.

  Marilyn nodded, paid and led Tomás to their table.

  ‘My head’s spinning. Not like the old way, though.’ said Tomás.

  Marilyn bit her lip. She managed to lock eyes with the young woman who was hurrying their tea.

  ‘Babe, I remember looking up at the menu and then everything kind of went blank for a second.’

  ‘So, you don’t realise you roughed up the guy back there?’

  ‘No. Why would I do that?’

  ‘I don’t know. But I don’t think he was doing any more than his job.’

  The young woman laid their tea.

  ‘Are yer alright there, sir?’

  Tomás closed his eyes.

  ‘He’ll be fine.’ said Marilyn.