Metal fatigue. It all comes back to bite. Asbestos. He drank. I can’t believe
he brought her down like that—I mean, what sort of dick does that? This weekend’s
going to go to shit, I can just feel it. He topped his glass. How are you and Lauren?
We’re good, said Adam, we’re okay. Me and Megan too. A log collapsed in the fire,
blowing showers of orange sparks against the glass.
We’re a funny species, aren’t we? said Evan. Adam looked at him. God or whoever didn’t
finish us properly when he put those things between our legs and then, when we do
it—man on woman, man on man, woman on woman, whatever—we make cries of pain. Cries
of pain, Ad—what’s that? The kid puts his ear to the door and that’s what he hears,
one hurting the other. That Tim guy, said Evan, I felt for him. Did you?
Evan stared at the window.
My daughter, Aria, he said, from my first marriage, she was not much older than Tilly
when she gave me and Kate a whole heap of trouble. I couldn’t even begin. It would
be wrong to say that’s what caused the break-up but, thinking back, it must have
had some effect. Do you know what I mean? But it’s all for the best, he said, drinking;
Megan and I, we’re happy, and I get on with her kids, too. And Aria came through
it in the end. She’s a woman now. And whip-smart too, I can tell you—she runs rings
around me.
She was eighteen when it started; a mature eighteen, mind you, when I think about
it, but in another way completely childish. At first it was just a few extra piercings,
a couple of tats, peroxided hair, then more tats. She started going out with this
guy, he’d bought her drinks or something—I don’t know—but here’s the thing: he was
older than her, much older, the same age as me. She was shameless about it, in a
way I guess you have to admire. We don’t want our kids cowering, do we? Shortly after
Aria and this guy started going out she brought him home to meet us. But here’s the
thing. My daughter Aria’s peroxided, tattooed, pierced—outrageous, in every way—while
this guy’s as straight as a post. Sensible slacks, nice cotton shirt, he’s even brought
a bunch of flowers for Kate! Evan threw his head back and laughed, as if Aria’s boyfriend
handing his ex-wife a bunch of flowers was of all the things he’d seen in his life
by far the funniest ever.
This guy’s name was Cameron, he worked in border security at the airport, a good,
upstanding, righteous job. So he had money, and that wouldn’t have hurt. (Aria does
like having things). But still, and it’s hard to say it even now, I could see on
that first night when she brought Cameron home that they were in love, those two,
really in love. How’s that? Huh? There’s Kate and me, sitting opposite, making conversation,
and all the time we’re thinking, Jesus, those two are in love. That night, when he
left, he shook my hand at the door and looked me dead in the eye.
Is this a story? said Adam.
No, said Evan, I don’t think so. It sounds like a story, said Adam. Maybe you should
save it till tomorrow? But I won’t feel like telling it tomorrow, said Evan, I’ve
had a few drinks and I feel like telling it now, because of Tilly in the car. And
Tim. And Elena. It’s spontaneous, can’t you see? Well can you at least give it a
title? said Adam. Border Official , said Evan; I’ll call it Border Official . Adam
handed him the stick.
So, said Evan.
Evan: Border Official…
That’s all you want for your kids, isn’t it? Happiness? It seems strange to say it
but Cameron and Aria made a great couple. They did everything together: breakfasts
out, dinners at the coolest restaurants, shopping on Saturdays at the farmers’ markets,
Sundays a bike ride along the river. (They met at a club but now clubs were beneath
them, they were a sensible couple in love.) Aria still had her tats and piercings
but in every other way she was straightening herself up to get, if you know what
I mean, in alignment with
he brought her down like that—I mean, what sort of dick does that? This weekend’s
going to go to shit, I can just feel it. He topped his glass. How are you and Lauren?
We’re good, said Adam, we’re okay. Me and Megan too. A log collapsed in the fire,
blowing showers of orange sparks against the glass.
We’re a funny species, aren’t we? said Evan. Adam looked at him. God or whoever didn’t
finish us properly when he put those things between our legs and then, when we do
it—man on woman, man on man, woman on woman, whatever—we make cries of pain. Cries
of pain, Ad—what’s that? The kid puts his ear to the door and that’s what he hears,
one hurting the other. That Tim guy, said Evan, I felt for him. Did you?
Evan stared at the window.
My daughter, Aria, he said, from my first marriage, she was not much older than Tilly
when she gave me and Kate a whole heap of trouble. I couldn’t even begin. It would
be wrong to say that’s what caused the break-up but, thinking back, it must have
had some effect. Do you know what I mean? But it’s all for the best, he said, drinking;
Megan and I, we’re happy, and I get on with her kids, too. And Aria came through
it in the end. She’s a woman now. And whip-smart too, I can tell you—she runs rings
around me.
She was eighteen when it started; a mature eighteen, mind you, when I think about
it, but in another way completely childish. At first it was just a few extra piercings,
a couple of tats, peroxided hair, then more tats. She started going out with this
guy, he’d bought her drinks or something—I don’t know—but here’s the thing: he was
older than her, much older, the same age as me. She was shameless about it, in a
way I guess you have to admire. We don’t want our kids cowering, do we? Shortly after
Aria and this guy started going out she brought him home to meet us. But here’s the
thing. My daughter Aria’s peroxided, tattooed, pierced—outrageous, in every way—while
this guy’s as straight as a post. Sensible slacks, nice cotton shirt, he’s even brought
a bunch of flowers for Kate! Evan threw his head back and laughed, as if Aria’s boyfriend
handing his ex-wife a bunch of flowers was of all the things he’d seen in his life
by far the funniest ever.
This guy’s name was Cameron, he worked in border security at the airport, a good,
upstanding, righteous job. So he had money, and that wouldn’t have hurt. (Aria does
like having things). But still, and it’s hard to say it even now, I could see on
that first night when she brought Cameron home that they were in love, those two,
really in love. How’s that? Huh? There’s Kate and me, sitting opposite, making conversation,
and all the time we’re thinking, Jesus, those two are in love. That night, when he
left, he shook my hand at the door and looked me dead in the eye.
Is this a story? said Adam.
No, said Evan, I don’t think so. It sounds like a story, said Adam. Maybe you should
save it till tomorrow? But I won’t feel like telling it tomorrow, said Evan, I’ve
had a few drinks and I feel like telling it now, because of Tilly in the car. And
Tim. And Elena. It’s spontaneous, can’t you see? Well can you at least give it a
title? said Adam. Border Official , said Evan; I’ll call it Border Official . Adam
handed him the stick.
So, said Evan.
Evan: Border Official…
That’s all you want for your kids, isn’t it? Happiness? It seems strange to say it
but Cameron and Aria made a great couple. They did everything together: breakfasts
out, dinners at the coolest restaurants, shopping on Saturdays at the farmers’ markets,
Sundays a bike ride along the river. (They met at a club but now clubs were beneath
them, they were a sensible couple in love.) Aria still had her tats and piercings
but in every other way she was straightening herself up to get, if you know what
I mean, in alignment with
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