The Lighter Side of Life and Death (12 page)

“You’re still doing it,” I point out. Yolanda doesn’t make a habit of running down straight guys but lots of them gave her a hard time when she first came out in eighth grade. I guess some of it stuck.

“Okay, end of lecture,” she says resolutely. “Anyway, there’s nothing going on between them. Apparently they got into a shouting match because Hugo said he wouldn’t have hooked up with Monica Gregory in the first place if Kat had been giving him some
home loving
.” Y tacks a smirk and thick Southern accent onto those last two words.

“He’s so full of shit,” I growl.

“Yup.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” I’m way too relieved to feel good about it.

“Yeah.” Yolanda smooths down her sleeve and grasps her elbow. “I’m not really comfortable with reporting back to you like this, you know?”

“I won’t ask you again,” I say. “Thanks. Really. I feel better.” It’s amazing what two minutes’ worth of secondhand information can do for you.

That night I sit in the basement with Burke watching
Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events
. Brianna’s at a sleepover and I don’t think either of us misses her. Burke’s afraid of Count Olaf
and this worried look crowds onto his face whenever Jim Carrey’s on-screen. It’s hilarious and I have to suck back a laugh every fifteen minutes. The other funny thing is that he’s all-out crushing on Violet Baudelaire but in complete denial about it.

“Hey, she’s cute,” I tell him. “There’s nothing wrong with liking her.”

“Stop talking about me liking her,” he says, exasperated. “
You
like her.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have a problem with liking her,” I tease.

Guess what? Six-year-olds are unpredictable. Burke roars and lunges towards me on the couch. His scrawny six-year-old hands struggle to pin my arms back while his bony knees dig into my leg. “Chill, buddy,” I say with a laugh. “This isn’t
Jerry Springer
.”

“Who’s Jerry Springer?” he demands, easing off.

So I guess that’s not one of Brianna’s shows. Looks like she prefers the intellectual challenge of
The Doctors
or
Oprah
.

“A crazy guy with a TV show,” I tell him, my lips relaxing into a smile. “You can’t just jump people like that, buddy. You could break my old-man bones.”

“You’re not an old man,” Burke says, grinning back at me. One of his bottom teeth is missing. He looks like a hockey player.

“Compared to you I am.”

Burke sits with his back against the couch and says, “No more talking about Violet, okay?”

Because he
luvs
her, obviously, but sure, whatever. The kid is breaking me up. “Okay, fine,” I agree, grabbing the remote and rewinding the last sixty seconds. We watch the movie in peace until Nina comes down and announces that it’s Burke’s bedtime.

“Ten more minutes,” he pleads.

“I think the movie’s almost over,” I add.

“As soon as the movie’s over then.” Nina turns to go, then swings abruptly back towards Burke. “I almost forgot, Jerome called me at work today. They have a place for you this summer.”

Burke kicks his feet in the air and grins in approval. “That sounds like good news,” I say.

“I’m going to camp,” Burke explains, still wiggling with happiness.

Nina gazes fondly down at him. “Don’t miss your movie, guys.” She heads upstairs, closing the door behind her.

“It’s not a camp with bunk beds,” Burke tells me, turning to face the screen. “It’s only during the day. They take you places and you play sports and eat lunch outside. Last year Mrs. Bartlett came over every day but camp is better.”

“Who’s Mrs. Bartlett?” I ask.

“An old lady.” Burke scratches his knee as he glances over at me. “She could do card tricks but she didn’t like to go outside when it was hot.” Suddenly Billy the panther cat appears out of nowhere and meows up from under Burke’s outstretched feet. Burke’s hand casually grazes the top of Billy’s head, a reflex action that I’ve been careful to avoid.

“Hey, you think I can pet him now?” I ask. Burke shakes his head, giggling like I’ve made a knock-knock joke. “I think he’s starting to like me,” I add, dropping my hand and leaning forward. Billy darts across the basement like a bolt of lightning while Burke hunches over and laughs so hard that he burps.

“Okay, so maybe he doesn’t like me that much,” I say, laughing too.

“He doesn’t like anybody except us,” Burke proclaims, showing off his hockey player grin. “That’s just the way he is.”

“What about Mrs. Bartlett? Did he like her?” In my mind she’s
pear shaped, probably because of her name, and wears long sleeves all summer. She’s the type of person who’d admire an anti social cat, even if it didn’t like her back.

“No.” Burke rubs his eyes and jiggles around like a lunatic on the couch. “Mrs. Bartlett only likes birds,” he gasps between giggles. I swear, he’s laughing so much that I half expect him to wet his pants.

“You’re a maniac,” I tell him. It’s impossible to keep a straight face with him howling away next to me. “You’re missing the movie.” I rewind it a second time while Burke struggles to catch his breath.

It takes nearly twenty minutes to finish the movie and then Burke gets up, without Nina having to remind him, and tells me good night.

“Night, buddy,” I say. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” he echoes, running upstairs. He’s got those frantic little-kid footsteps that I heard at Colette’s place and I realize this is the first time I’ve thought about her or Kat all night. Maybe I need to hang out with Burke more often.

Christopher Cipolla phones
early Saturday after noon and asks, in a keen Cockney accent, if I want to catch a play in Toronto tonight. My accent isn’t half as good as his but I do my best to keep up with him. “What’s the story, guv?” I say. “What’s this ’ere play about then?”

The play’s called
Spin Cycle
and his cousin’s part of the stage crew. He can only get two free tickets but his cousin might be able to score a discount on the rest. Miracle, Dustin and Jamie have already decided to go and Christopher plans on calling Y and Z too.

“You in, mate?” Chris asks.

It’s impossible to avoid Jamie. Why even try? “Absolutely, mate,” I tell him. “Sounds bloody brilliant.”

Chris wants to take two cars so Miracle won’t have to chauffeur for once but Zoe just got her license six weeks ago and her mother won’t let her take the expressway, and everyone else either doesn’t
have their license yet or can’t get hold of a car. We all kick in for gas and parking and Miracle says she doesn’t mind driving anyway.

“I can drive next time,” Jamie announces in the van. “I have my road test on Tuesday.”

“I didn’t know that,” I say. For a second I forgot that he’s not really speaking to me. His presence is so familiar.

“Yeah,” Jamie says out of the side of his mouth. “Tuesday.”

This is the first time I’ve seen him outside of school since the cafeteria meltdown, and the tension between us feels out of place in the real world. “Good luck,” I tell him.

“Thanks.” Jamie nods to himself and looks away.

He hangs back when we pile out of the van, like he’s trying to put some distance between us, and I let him. A big part of me wants to sit beside him in the theater and talk at him until he caves and talks back. Instead I slide into the seat next to Miracle’s and watch Chris lower himself into the chair on my other side. It’s better this way. For once I’ll let someone stay mad at me for as long as they have in them. Why should I bend myself out of shape for something I don’t even regret? The truth is I still wouldn’t take that night back. I’d change a couple things, yeah. I wouldn’t say Kat was heavy and I wouldn’t let her leave until we talked about what happened but that’s it. The rest was too perfect to mess with.

Spin Cycle’
s uneven but intense and I get this swell in the pit of my stomach, like I can see how good it could be if the entire cast measured up to the guy who plays Tom. He’s so mean sometimes that it’s hard to sit still and watch. He’s dangerous and magnetic and when you least expect it he says something really funny and you can’t help but laugh, even though you don’t want to.

There’s some nudity too and it’s jarring to have this guy striding around the set with no pants on, completely different than seeing someone naked in a movie. If I really want to act it’s something
I need to consider. From my safe place in the audience the possibility feels terrifying but I also know that it’s different when you’re up there. The work gets inside you. You don’t think the way you normally do. You flow with the scene the way Tom’s doing; you let go of the person you normally are and just let it happen.

Anyway, Tom’s more toxic by the minute. You almost feel contaminated watching him. An underlying threat of violence pushes closer to the surface and the tension builds and builds until there’s only one place for it to go. After that you just want to get it over with and we clap in relief when the actors take their bows. Miracle, Chris and I give the guy who played Tom a standing ovation and when the lights are back on I check his name in the program: Ian Chappell. He graduated from York University in 2004 and has been a Shaw Festival company member for the past five years. Half a dozen other plays are listed in his credits.

I’m only getting started at this but I think that’s what I want my bio to look like when I’m his age. Meaty three-dimensional film or TV roles would be great too, but acting for the audience right in front of you, feeling them boost your adrenaline with a personal kick of their own, not much can touch that electricity.

Afterwards Christopher’s cousin Julian comes out to talk to us. He wants to know what we thought of the play and Miracle and I start raving about Ian Chappell straightaway. Then I remember that Julian’s part of the stage crew and start commenting on the set and stuff. “Do you want to hang around awhile and meet some of the cast?” Julian asks.

“Absolutely!” Zoe and Yolanda exclaim. “We’d love to.”

But Miracle’s full of surprises. “Maybe another time,” she says hurriedly. “I need to get the van back. Thanks for letting us come, though. It was fantastic.”

I give her a puzzled glance and wince as she pinches the back of
my arm. Jamie witnesses the painful exchange, steps forward and starts talking to Julian to fill the gap in conversation. Meanwhile Miracle pushes her head close to mine and says, “I don’t want to meet anyone.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t.” Her voice is hushed so only I can hear it. “After seeing someone put all that into a performance, it’s too weird. What do you say to them? It’s … it’s completely overwhelming.”

“I don’t think you really need to say anything,” I whisper. “There’re so many people here that he’d never notice.” Obviously we’re talking about Ian Chappell. That much is understood. No one else was good enough to awe her that way. I didn’t even know she got starstruck. She doesn’t seem like the type.

“You guys go ahead,” she says, bunching her arms up in front of her corduroy jacket. “I’ll wait in the van. Although that looks odder, doesn’t it?” She drops her program on the floor in front of us and I bend down to pick it up for her.

“Thanks,” she says, pinching the program between unsteady fingers. “Okay, I’m being ridiculous.” She takes a long breath, the classic antidote for a case of nerves. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. This is stupid. Let’s go.”

“What? You mean meet him?”

“Yeah,” she says firmly. “Let’s just do it.”

“Really?” Given another ten seconds she could change her mind again.

“Yes.” Miracle nods boldly and straightens her jacket. “Um, Julian.” She cranes forward and interrupts his conversation with Jamie, Y and Z. “You know, I think we have a bit of time after all. If it’s no trouble for you, that is.”

“No trouble,” Julian says agreeably. “A few of us usually hang
out awhile after the show. Let me go talk to them. I’ll catch up with you guys in a second.”

The theater’s right down at Harbourfront and we go outside and stare at Lake Ontario. It’s too early for mosquitoes but it’s a pretty mild night and I roll up my sleeves and feel that swell in my stomach again. I’m not even positive what it means. There’s a universe expanding around me and in some ways I’m almost impatient, but then again I’m happy enough in the moment with everyone analyzing
Spin Cycle
in excited voices.

“Can I use your cell phone?” Zoe asks, waving her hand in front of my face. “I have to check in with my mom.”

“Sure.” I smile as I hand it over. “Go ahead.”

“You have a message,” Zoe says as she turns it on. “You want to check it first?”

“Nah. Go ahead.”

It’s probably Charlie Kady. He was supposed to hook up with the Whole Foods girl again tonight. If they’re going to be together awhile I guess I should start remembering her name.

Z talks to her mom for a minute and then presses the phone into my hand. Behind her Miracle’s rocking on her heels and listening to Y describe this state-of-the-art ten-tier wedding cake she saw on the Food Network last night. I speed-dial my voice mail, push the phone against my ear and jerk back in shock.

“So I’ve had your number for a while now.” Colette sighs and starts over. “I hate leaving messages. I’m the queen of the anonymous hang-up but I guess in this case that would defeat the purpose. I wanted to talk to you about what happened when we last saw each other. Maybe bringing you to my place was a bad idea. I thought for once in my life I’d be completely direct with someone but it still ended up the same way. Funny how that works.”

I tighten my grip on the phone and breathe in fresh air blowing in from the lake. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking about you,” she says slowly. “Give me a call tomorrow if you want to talk.” She recites her phone number and promptly hangs up.

I listen to the message twice, my pulse speeding. I’d play it a third time but Julian steps out of the theater with two of the
Spin Cycle
actors plus some guy with a shaved head and goatee. Ian Chappell isn’t with them and Miracle instantly lights up with relief.

It’s crazy. My body’s all over shaky, same as if Colette was beside me. I churn out a smile as Julian introduces us to his friends but I can’t think. I stick close to Miracle, who is doing enough talking for both of us now that it’s clear Ian Chappell isn’t going to show. The group of us walks over to Queen’s Quay and eats burgers and I swear, I miss the entire thing. I can’t even finish my food.