This All Happened(82)

            She finds the book under a chair.

            Do you have the dust jacket?

            Oh, she says, covering the mouthpiece. I took it off because I didnt want to tear it.

            Well, at least it’s not torn.

            I dont know where I put it.

            8 Max serves me up borscht made with Daphne’s beets. There’s homemade cornbread and mint ice cream. We drive Daphne to work at emerge. Then we make our racquetball appointment. We’re cramming in nights out before the baby’s due. My wrist is getting stronger, I’m returning his serve.

            Outside by Max’s truck a drunk man asks for a ride home.

            I lives in the senior citizen’s home on Thorburn Road. It’s way before you get to Vatcher’s, he says. I’m in some pain. Pain for the past three years. I dont know what I’m doing in the home, I’m only fifty-three. My wife is on a heating pad eighteen hours a day. I try to have sex but it hurts too much, but I does it for her. My God, I thought the pain would stop after what I’ve been drinking and I had some pills too. All kinds, but it won’t go away.

            Max looks over at me.

            Drunk man: Everything goes right through me. Maybe you’d best take me to the hospital. That’s where I’m gonna end up. Take me in to emergency. I’m real sorry about this. What’s your name?

            Gabriel, and this is Max.

            Good to meet you, Gabe. Max, good to meet you too. I’m Alphonse Tucker. See my thumb, I can’t move it. Yes, in through this way.

            Max idles the truck as I take Alphonse by the elbow and help him through the In Only. He knows the way. Daphne Yarn is down the hall. I nod to Alphonse. I say, He’s been drinking and he says he’s taken some pills.

            Daphne: You got an MCP card?

            No, but I’m in your computer. Alphonse Tucker.

            We take chairs beside the glass wicket. Daphne says, 4 Wigmore Court?

            Whatever, he says.

            He searches through his pockets, pulling out pills. The pills are small and blue or large and yellow. The yellow ones are marked Dupont. He cups them, slowly, to his mouth and I put a hand to his wrist.

            Now, Mr Tucker, says Daphne. You won’t try that again, will you?

            He clenches his fist. He will not relinquish the pills. Daphne stands, says, Put them in my pocket here and you can have them when you leave.

            I’m surprised that he almost falls for this. He moves his hand over to her pocket but then retreats.

            Do what you like then, she says.

            He tries to swallow them again. Daphne rakes the pills from his hand.

            I say, I think you’ll be okay now, Alphonse.

            It’s good of you to do this Gabe, he says in my general direction.

            Daphne asks his date of birth.

            1944 That means I’m twenty-seven.

            I’ll see you, Phonse.

            See you, my son.

            I wave to Daphne.

            Max and I play snooker and meet Oliver. There is no animosity in the men. Oliver says, Did you know Dali experimented with his diet – he took notes – to make the perfect shit?

            Max says, Do you know why shit is tapered?

            Max answers his own question: If it wasnt tapered your asshole would slam shut. He laughs. We used to say that all the time when we were kids.