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Worst. Person. Ever(87)

By:Douglas Coupland


I was just about to start snivelling when I heard my name. “Raymond?”

I froze.

A woman’s voice. “Raymond!” she called again.

“Yes?”

From behind a coconut shrub emerged Sarah—Sarah! “Raymond, are you alone?”

I looked around me. “Ummm, yes. Yes, I am.”

She grabbed hold of me and gave me a massive, tongue-filled kiss. When she pulled away, she looked me deeply in the eyes and said, “I’ve got it all figured out.”

“What?”

“Our plan.”

“Our plan?”

“Yes, you silly goose, our plan.”

Our plan?

Skyrockets!

Roman candles!

Confetti!

Lots of people in ethnic garb dancing!

Cumshot compilations!

So this was what love felt like. Nothing else felt like it. Nothing. Not even the week-long coke binge Fi and I did at some record producer’s compound in Honduras.

There, on that lonely path in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Sarah could have commanded me to die on a battlefield, but such is love: Sarah’s wish was my command.

“I’ve got a Zodiac,” she said, “and enough Spam to last us a year.”

I was speechless.

“I’ve also brought along ten hot pieces of swimwear and my entire lingerie collection.”

All I could muster was a noise like randomly typed letters on a keyboard: “Bfnlhfliahelf fhslfv dsfhelfel.”

“Oh, you silly thing. Let’s hurry. The others will figure this out soon enough. The boat’s down here.” She pulled me towards a path that led in a different direction from where Neal and I had our Zodiac stashed. So this was the moment of choice; one of life’s literal forks in the road.

“Raymond?”

“Nvnd phwqpg pgeh eljfdl.”

“You feel for me the way I feel for you, Raymond, right?”

“Mfbrigueobf.” I slowed down a little and managed, “Of course.”

“Then let your heart be your guide.”

I followed her down her path, my pulse beating so forcefully that my head felt like a tom-tom. When we reached the water, Sarah said, “Think of it as The Love Boat, Raymond—just you and me.”

There was precious little Spam in the boat. “Are you sure this is enough for a year, Sarah?”

She was undoing some ropes. “You silly! This is but a fraction of it. I’ve been stockpiling our island hideaway all week. It’s like a supermarket. You’ll see.”

I was just about to hop in when I heard, “Goodbye, then, Raymond.”

Neal’s voice. I froze.

“Don’t worry, Ray. I’m not going to stop you.”

“It’s not what it looks like, Neal.”

“Raymond, I’m on your side here.”

“Meaning?”

“I want you to be happy with Sarah.”

“What about Fiona and my …” The word did not come naturally to me. “… kids?”

“Fi’s pissed off, but she’ll survive. She has to keep her language clean because of the wee ones. It’s funny, actually.”

I was once again speechless.

“Before you go, I want to give you two things, Ray.”

I was feeling a bit wary now.

“First of all, the Cure T-shirt.” He pulled it over his head and held it out. “You deserve it. Not just because you found it to begin with, making it technically yours, but because you have my respect, Ray. This is my way of showing it.”

“I—I have your respect?”

“Yes, you do. And here’s one more thing.” He reached into his pocket and removed something red. The piece of red plastic. “It wasn’t really stuck up my arse all week. I’ve been carving it into a gift I wanted you to have for rescuing me and giving me one of the most exciting lives a man can lead.” He handed it over. God bless him. From the piece of red plastic, he’d carved me my own knoon.

A knoon (the “k” is silent) is a hybrid form of cutlery that combines the cutting capability of a knife with the containment capability of a spoon in a single powerful utensil. The word “knoon” is a portmanteau of “knife” and “spoon.” Typically, one or both of the outer edges of the spoon-like utensil are sharpened to allow the user to cut food.





54


Dawn was rising as Sarah and I pulled the boat into a tiny cove protected by a sandbar. Passing by, you’d never know the island was there; a genius location, lost to the world. I saw a thousand minnows in the water as we pulled up on the white coral sand beach. Sarah tied the boat to some sort of gnarled saltwater tree thingy and said, “Come here, Raymond—let me show you our new home.”

She held my hand and we walked through flowers and coconut shrubs and came to a sensational ultra-high-tech tent like the kind you’d use on the moon.