"Better the devil you know than the devil you don't know." ~ Irish Proverb
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After the underwater scream fest to purge out the weakness in me, I start my shift guarding the lives of the night swimmers of San Fall. The thing I like the most about the night shift, zero dumb drunk mothers trying to kill their kids. The night crowd at the Annex pool is about thirty or so lappers, just doing theri thing. Who are mostly professional looking older swimmers, but not yet raisin level ancient. And unlike the athletic "pushing it hard" gym crowd, most of these lappers are mostly middle-aged, my doctor says swimming is a good exercise for my heart types. I think of them less as actual lappers, and much more as Pacers really.
They are generally slow to get into the pool. Even more sluggish in the water, as they steadily tread through their time in the pool. Most of the Pacers tend to start off in a forward crawl style. Then after a lap or two they switch over to a lazy breaststroke, that keeps their goggled heads bobbing just above the surface. Which truth be told, makes my time lording over them from the throne all that much easier. Watching their heads bob up and down as they lazily crawl up and down the lap lanes.
Fact is that most of the Pacers are actually pretty polite and respectful towards each other, both in the water and out. The most telling sign to me is that none of these Pacers are high fiving each other for "pushin' it hard". If they even bother to acknowledge each other at all, it's usually with a polite nod or the rare friendly wave of recognition.
My boss, Old Joe Blake takes off for dinner with his wife at precisely six o'clock every day, which is fine by me. I find I like Old Joe a lot more when we spend a lot less time together. The pool closes at 8 o'clock sharp, after seeing the last of the Pacers on their way out the door. I lock up and do my own water time, starting with the obligatory deck check.
Upside, not a lot of gum chewers at the Annex, so I don't need to break out the ol' Plunger gum-glass scraping tools. Downside, I find more than my fair share of generic brown Band-Aids floating in the overflow drains. My Special Olympians love the colorful waterproof Band-Aids with comic book heroes or kiss lips on them, so I know it's not them. Personally, I hold the Raisins responsible for this floatsom, cause wearing little brown Band-Aids everywhere is like the Raisin thing to do.
At the end of my deck check, I do my own water time at the bottom of the deep end before showering off before heading home. After all my fun at Da Frost I am unusually careful leaving the Annex tonight, just in case Butcher and the boys are lying in wait to give me a proper welcome to San Fall beat down. I slip out the side office door into the darkness and circle around the side of the building to check out the parking lot, but the lot is empty save for all the old ghosts that live here.
The skate home is always easier than the skate there, seeing the Annex sits on a bit of a hill rise. So if I take the five minutes to push up the top of the slope and angle my ride right, where I can take the slow slide down the back streets almost all the way home. I slalom silently down the sloping streets with my night eyes skinned for any of the Butcher's Boys. But thanffully there none are to be had. By the time I roll up to home, Aces Impala is long gone from its normal spot in the driveway and the house is completely dark. Which is not surprising seeing it is football night at the Hall of Heroes and my grandmother has probably is gone out to find more lost souls to sacrifice to her old world gods.
Drifting in through the backdoor I say wazzup to all the Chinese kitchen demons, and check the fridge for dinner. A half a glass pan of something that looks like lasagna has been left for me find. And to my surprise a bold note attached to the front of the refrigerator that reads like an epitaph.
Darren~
Dinner is in the fridge. I am at Mahjong. Aces is over at the VFW. Call my mobile telephone number in case there is an emergency.
PS - Around 5 o'clock a strange girl called for you. She asked what time you'd be back. I told her usually sometime after 9. She rudely rang off before I could get her name.
I. Irish
"Rudely rang off?" I repeat with a grunt of amusement, at the vision of the banshee screaming, "I said! who is this!?!" into the phone after the strange girl rudely rang off. Which I can only assume is Raisinese for "hung up on", before the Irish Antichrist could start asking irrelevant personal questions. Like"Why are you calling here after sundown? And what in damnation do you want with my only grandson, you slantern?"
But the one thing that strikes me as seriously strange about this message is that I haven't given out the Blazing Raisins home phone number to anyone local. Well, save for the Sleestak Queen's emergency contact form? But based on her familiarity with the Irish Antichrist, I assumed she probably already had a direct line to the devil herself?
I almost have to wonder if it is the call that I have been dreading for years. Ergo, the final notice on Donna Momma's madness and sadness.
No stupid, if it was "That Day", Gromit or Sunny would have called me directly. Not left an anonymous message with the Irish Antichrist.
I am half way done with my dinner, when the house phone starts ringing off the hook at nine sharp, and not a minute more. I elbow the speakerphone button on the overly large Raisin friendly home phone model.
"Hola, House of Dean." Mildly curious to know who my mystery caller will turn out to be.
"Hello, may I speak to Darrén please?" The slight lilting accent at the end of my name pretty much solves the mystery of who the "Strange Girl" caller from earlier was. Seeing May is the only person in the world ends my name with that particular quirky lilt.
"Hey Maybe, it's me?" I shake my head at the unintentional wordplay.
"Yes." I hear the sigh of relief on the other end of the line. "Daré are you okay? Please tell me that you are alright?"
"I'm fine, Maybe. I just got home from my shift at the Annex. Why, what's going on?" As if I don't really have a clue as to why she is suddenly calling me out of the blue at home, to ask me how I am doing.
It's pretty obvious to me at this point, that the fearlearders that were present at Da Frost must have tipped off her sinister sister about what happened between me and The Butcher Boys. And of course Apes, who has zero love for me, has told May all about whatever it is that she heard happened today at Da Frost. The only mystery so far is how May got the Raisins home number, seeing that I am almost positive that I never gave it her, or anyone else for that matter.
"I called earlier to see if you were okay and I sorta hung up on your grandmother. I hope she's not mad, but I didn't want to be the one to tell her about what happened with you and Butchy after school. Are you really alright? You're not just saying you're okay ...but you're not really okay? Right?" She pauses to hold a breath.
"Yeah May, I'm fine," I assure her again, at least of my physical well-being.
"Okay." I can hear the relief in her voice now has a tinge of irritation. "Then can you please tell me what the hell you were thinking going to the Frosty Freezy to get into a fight with Butcher Barnes, of all people?"
"Thinking?" I muse bemused. "I thought we already established on the bleachers that day, that I don't really do that whole 'thinking' thing? But no worries, everything worked out the way it was supposed to. The whole thing was all a misunderstanding of sorts. Oh and it turns out Butchy's baby brother Buster, was the third Amigo from our meet and greet on the Annex bleachers that day. The one who didn't speak up or get involved in all the fun times we had?"
I wait for her to reply positively to this peaceful declaration on my part. But I hear only silence on the other end of the line, as some of the pieces begin falling into place. "But I'm guessing that you already knew that."
"I know." She confirms my suspicions. "And we knew that back then as well, after April figured it out after whatever ...and dealt with it."
"Yeah, I should have figured that. Like you said, you knew all of them since you were six." I nod along and start thinking through the part of all this where April dealt with it. And what the hell that might mean in the grand scheme of things.
"April says this thing at the Forst is all over the vines now." May sighs.
"Oh yeah? And what else did she have to say, exactly?" Because it's now occurred to me that there is a serious sequential problem with all of this sudden interest.
According to Butchy, he called me out to settle shit with Buster ...not him. So right up until 3:01, the only one under the mistaken impression that I was going to Da Frost to fight the Butcher, was me and ...Blazing Guys Mike! Mr. Helper, the kite flying love note passer guy, who just happened to grow up with the grim sisters since they were kids? Oh, and who I coincidentally did not see in Da Frost today, regardless of all his "I might swing by and give you a ride to the ER". Ergo right after school was out, he must have run straight to April to tell her the good news of my pending death at the hands of The Butcher.
Yeah okay, Mr. Helper. So April Fool's been asking about me? Okay buddy, sure'sure...so thats what's up with you?
"According to April, everyone was surprised that you even showed up, but especially Butchy?" May starts spieling out the facts as she knows them. "But instead of fighting you Butchy, Buster, Boomer Hayden and Crystal Slater's brother had some sort of talk? Which ended with Butchy smacking down Slater, and then the police showed up before anything else could happen."
"Now they're all saying that it's just a matter of time before Butcher catches up with you and pounds you into pieces. April thought they might go down to the Annex to catch you after work was over and finish what they started. So I was trying to get a hold of you to warn you, but your cell phone went straight to voicemail." May tries to justify waking up the Irish Antichrist from her infernal slumber. "So I called your grandparents house ...just in case?"
Well I suppose that pretty much explains all the persistent "Are you really alright" questions. Yeah, I'm betting that Slater is probably the one spinning that tale. Which I am thinking is wishful thinking on his part ...or maybe not? These San fall flocks are sort of hard for me to get a beat on with. Seeing this sort of peace out-beat down is pro-forma for a pirates parlay?
"Yeah well, don't believe everything you hear May. Cause as far as I know everything is cool with the Butchy and the Boys, at least for the current." I reassure her of something that I am not at all sure of myself.
Because I thought exactly the same thing. Which was precisely why when I locked up tonight I made sure to go out the side door and circled around the parking lot. Getting jumped after work in a dark parking lot was a definite possibility with a sociopath like Butcher. I should know, seeing that's exactly what I would have done if I were him. Let me go at the Frost in front of all the witnesses, and then come back later and hammer me when there was no one around to see the slaying screams.
Truth be told, it was the smart move, especially with an airtight alibi in place. But when that didn't happen, I pretty much assumed that me and Butcher were good-to-go, at least for the current? But now I am not so sure that assuming anything with the Butcher is really a good idea, cause that dude is seriously not right in the head. I mean after all, this is the same guy has to bring his own translator to a fistfight?
"Okay then." I can tell she is highly doubtful of my assertion. "So can you please tell me that this wasn't about me, and what happened over the summer on the bleachers?" May deduces correctly.
"No, not really?" I almost lie.
Beause in reality today's fun wasn't really about May actually, it was more about my escalation after the fact on Taco Tuesday. But honestly, I think it was probably going to happen sooner or later anyways. I just elected to make it happen sooner rather than later, with my dark spark-a-ling personalities.
"Although we kinda have an agreement now that means you are completely off limits now. Just so long as I let Buster slide on the shit from this summer." I wince at the way the truth sounds coming out of my mouth. Because knowing May she is not going to like this at all, especially when I tell her about what comes next.
"Dammit Darrén!" May snaps back faster than I can complete the thought. "I wasn't kidding when I said to leave it alone. Or that Butchy is a seriously dangerous psychopath. And I specifically asked you, to please let that thing this summer go. Why couldn't you listen to me on this? Why did you push this thing with them? And then you went to the Frosty Freeze to get into a fight the Butcher of all people? Oh my god, what the hell were you thinking?" She lets out a long breath with more than just a tinge of irritation.
And I really have to resist the impulse to not repeat myself on the "not thinking" thing again, and explain all this into girl speak. At this point in the critique, I am thinking that maybe it might have been nice if Butchy's translator had followed me home after all. Maybe he knows how to talk to girls in their own language ...cause clearly I do not.
"Okay May, first of all, Butchy called me out not the other way around." Which in a way is the truth, more or less. "And second of all, contrary to local custom, I don't run from fights...ever. It's a thing."
"This is who I am, and it's what I do. And I don't ever back down from bully's or Shitheads or just plain assholes ...just like that day at the Annex. I fight them until one of us is gone." I don't bother to explain to her that in the case of the Skinheads done means dead. As they all kind of died from a freak hemlock meth drug overdose, that I had almost nothing to do with.
"Now I get that that this might not make sense to you but..."
"Why because I'm blind?" She cuts back hard.
"No, because you're a girl." I counter evenly. And more specifically a girl from San Fall. Cause honestly no Sunset Sister I know would ever be calling me to give me a bunch of static about showing up to a fight after the fact. Well, not unless it was to congratulate me on kicking someone's ass for them.
"So what now?" She counters back quick. "You're saying because I'm a girl, I can't understand why you'd want your face broken in half by Butcher? And possibly worse?"
"Hate to put it that way, but it does kind of seem like it?" And by the sound of long silence on the other end of the line, I am sure that she's either thinking through what I just said. Or way to pissed off to speak and just about to "rang off" on my dumb beach boy butt.
"Then I suppose on some level, I should just be grateful that you just dumped me in with the rest of my gender? Instead of having some 'special' reason to exclude me." She finally concedes. "But seriously Darren, I fail to see how showing up at the Frost to get your face pounded in ...and then possibly peed on by Butcher Barnes, is the smart thing to do. For any reason ...ever."
"And again May, no one said anything about the smart thing to do here. All I can say to that is, I don't run from trouble. And showing up to a fight, even knowing you're going to lose, is a guy thing. It's about honor and living your life by a cool code." I pause, cause this sounds even stupider when I say it out loud. "And my code is I hit first, hit hardest and hit last. Ergo, fight the good fight, and win, lose or draw, and they will always remember your name."
"Oh my gawd! That is so boy stupid it's not even funny." May murmurs under her breath, but I can feel some slight amusement creeping back in her voice.
"Is it really that stupid to you?" I muse back for her amusement. "Because as I sit here right now, I have a pretty clear memory in my head of a girl who didn't even try to ask for help on the bleachers that day. Who told three guys to what was it again? Oh yeah ..."Get the hell away from me or else?" And who told me she wasn't scared at all, and that she could handle herself just fine."
"That's not the same thing and you know it." She comes back swinging fast, and I am honestly starting to enjoy this after action banter a little bit more than before. Even bandying about with Maybe is somehow soothing to the savage beast.
"Don't you think I haven't had to fight for everything that I have and hold? But fighting for something worthwhile and fighting just to fight, are two different things. And..." I can hear her take a deep breath. "...if I am being honest? I might have said some things to you that day on the bleachers that might not have been totally true. Okay?"
"Okay, like what?" I pry pleasantly.
"That I wasn't scared of them ...I was scared of you." She answers me back slowly, finishing barely above a soft whisper.
Her truth hits me back hard, like a ton of winter water crashing right down on my dome and rolling me right into the rocks. And I am no longer enjoying this conversation anymore. Because I am beginning to comprehend that I don't understand a thing about girl thinking ...and especially Maybe. Yet another hard reminder of the ancient lessons of the Insanistani philosophers: no good deed ever goes unpunished.
"Me? But I wasn't the one who..." I was the one that saved her from the monsters, not the monster? Well, not that day anyway? So it seems that I have underestimated her yet again? Because the true truth is that I am kind of a monster. I just didn't think she could see that part of me yet.
"Okay May, have it your way." I concede that I lost this battle way before it ever started.
Even all the way back on that day on the terraces, when I entered into a war that I could never win with her. How ironically karmic, seeing I just narrowly escaped one war today with Butcher and walked right into another one that I can't possibly ever win. Because no matter what I say, this is all about local politics now. And I am an outsider, so I am automatically out.
We have one of those oppressive silences that reaches right down into you and makes you see the depths of darkness, that you can't possibly ever understand unless you've lived those nightmares. And I am starting to think that maybe Guys Mike was right after all. That maybe Maybe doesn't need a rhyme or reason to just freeze me out cold.
I can feel the old me is coming back to the surface now, El Diablo, the real Devil, and he just does not give a flock about a whole lot. He's not hurt by any of this at all, because he can't get hurt. Because in order to hurt old El's one remaining feeling, you'd have to find it first. And you can't find anything inside old me but hollow empty space. Nothing plus nothing is nothing, and nothingness is as cold as the abyss of empty space ...just like me.
"I'm sorry, I guess shouldn't have said that." May sighs sadly.
"No worries, it's cool...everyone's entitled to their truth." But I don't really mean it, and I'm pretty sure she knows I don't mean it. Now that this is "a thing" between us, because I am so done with talking time today. "So thanks again for checking in on me, but you don't have to worry about me anymore. I got to go now. So lates, Maybe."
"Darren don't." May pushes ahead ignoring my "ringing off now" valediction. "I didn't mean that the way it might have sounded. So before you take what I said the wrong way and get all offended for no reason, please just hear me out. Okay?"
"Okay," I reply by rote with a decided lack of enthusiasm.
"Just for a second, try to think about that day at the Annex from my perspective." May slowly begins to unravel the mystery that is her darkside. "Yeah, Ferret and Slater are pervy little freak creeps for sure...and probably a little rapist racist? But I knew them, seeing we've all been in school together off and on for years. And you think any of them are seriously going to try something with me? Trust ...you'd have to be insane to touch me in this town."
"Darren, San Fall is a small town, with small people who know that they are small. And everyone knows everything about everyone. So not only will people talk trash about them behind their backs, but right up in their faces. And to mess with little ol' blind me?" She snorts in the local custom.
"You're so done for in this town, it's not even funny. Just my sister's razor mouth alone will ruin anyone who even thought to do something wrong to me. Not to mention what my dad could do, if he got wind of anything he doesn't like. Cause whether you realize this or not, my father carries a lot of weight around all Three Valleys, but especially in San Fall. And everyone knows for a fact that he has ruined people, for a lot less than this stupidity."
"But then you come along out of nowhere and scare the freaks off, with a few death threats and a kick bricks?" She snorts. "Some tough guy, I don't know? Who is clearly willing to do violence to multiple kids? And not to make too much of a point, but three guys ran away from you dude ...and left me there all alone for a reason?"
"Cause I don't know if you realize this or not? But you can be seriously scary and intimidating when you want to be." She takes a long breath before diving back into the deep end.
"And do you remember the first thing you ever said to me, when I asked you who you were? You said, "I'm nobody" ...in that really low uber menacing voice you get when your pissed off, like right now." She sighs sadly. "So yeah, I admit I was scared at first. And yeah, I might have let my imagination run a little wild there for a minute."
"But I also knew that April would show up sooner or later. So I did what anyone in my position would do? I used the sharpest skills I have to protect myself from a stranger danger until help could arrive. For me, that's my ability to talk, to mimic, to be funny and even charming ...when I have to be?" May admits she is not as tough or as truthful as I gave her credit for.
"So yeah, I mimicked a confident cool chick I knew once upon a time, who could handle herself and wasn't intimidated by anyone. And I tried to sound way more confident than I felt, and yeah...I lied a little. Maybe more than I should have, but less than I could have."
"But then when we started talking, and I heard you calm down enough to be civil? You were even dare I say ...nice'ish? And then when you realized that I was blind, you sounded so awkward. But not repulsed, nor overly interested either." May sighs another long sigh of regret for knowing me.
"And you said you were a Lifeguard? Your hands smelled like chlorine and not drugs or booze, or any of the other indicators that someone is a dangerous person. So I wasn't really that scared anymore. I was actually interested in getting to know more about the strange tough guy who walked down the bleachers to stick up for me that day." May takes another deep breath, before pushing onward. "So I guess what I am trying to say, is that I am sorry for saying that I thought the things I thought about you at first. And now that I know you a little ...I don't think those things anymore. Okay?"
"Okay cool, no worries." I drone back, and there is another long silence distorting time between us.
"Weren't you at least a little scared going there to get beaten up today?" May keeps pushing, refusing to take the hint that talking time was over many words ago.
"No." I bluntly tell her the true truth. "Not until after it was over and by then it was done."
"I don't understand you, Darren. Why would you put yourself out there like that? And please don't say because of some honor bro code baloney, just tell me the truth." I can hear the feisty fight in her voice.
"So you're asking me to tell you the truth? But then you tell me I can't say for the honor of the combat?" I try to find my way thru this trap. "Sorry May, but that kinda puts me in a place I don't have much to say anymore. Cause as clearly dumb as you think it is ...I already told my truth."
"Gawddamn, you're seriously not from around here are you?" I can almost hear her rolling her eyes when she says these words.
"Nope, not even a little." I agree.
"Okay." And now I can hear someone's sister seething something about dinner time in the background. "I'm sorry Darren, but I have to go for now but I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Okay, good talk. Can't wait. Lates." I intone with a decided lack of enthusiasm for any more talking time. The silence across the phone is deafening as she waits for me to return her heartfelt "talk to you later".
"Goodnight, Dare." She heaves a long sigh and loses the battle of wills.
"Night, May."
After I hang up the phone I feel the overwhelming need to go back to the pool and scream at the water for a while. Instead, I settle for screaming bubbles face down in the bathroom sink. So while it's not the same emotional release that I find in the deep water, it's close enough for the current to take me away.