happened to Mr. Wigs?”
“He died of testicular cancer two years ago,” Donny said. “I kind of kept up with the family. I used to hang out with Bill until he went out west to work on the rigs. His son Bill.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“He didn’t go to Brookfield, he went to Hillcrest. He didn’t want to be in the same school where his dad taught. But I knew him through hockey. We played together from squirts to midgets.”
“Hmmmm,” said Julia.
“I remember you,” Donny said, his face very red now, eyes bright. “There was a scent you used to wear. I’d get to homeroom early and wait for you to sit down. It was … I don’t know what it was. But I just couldn’t wait. It was like, the start of my day.”
Now Julia was flushed.
“I smelled a touch of it just now when I walked in. I thought, shit, what’s that? Is that ever familiar! And then, you know, when I saw you.
Julia Carmichael
. You are still -”
He didn’t finish the thought. Julia didn’t want him to finish it.
“So you do – you do floors, is that it?” she said.
“I do everything,” he said, proudly. “I do walls, and bathrooms, I do landscaping and painting. I’ve done roofing, it’s not my favourite. Basements! I’m great on basements.” He paused. “You knew that Billy Marcello was killed?”
“Uh,” Julia said. “Was he?” She had a vague idea who Billy Marcello was. Perhaps.
“In prison,” Donny said. “He’d murdered a man seven years ago. It was a bar in Hull, he was drunk, it was predictable. And then in prison he got stabbed himself. I know his sister Ramone. She’s doing great now, she works for a lawyer, has four kids, and has this business on the side selling cosmetics. She really does well. She could come by, you know, if you like buying things out of catalogues. I’m sorry. I
never
got to talk to you in high school, I was too shy. So I guess it’s just pouring out! So what does your husband do?”
“That’s sweet, Donny,” Julia said softly. She thought maybe now she remembered him. He
had
tried to ask her out once. At least that’s what she thought he was trying to do. He’d ended up muttering something in the general direction of the floor until the bell rang for class change, at which point he’d fled. “He’s a university professor,” she said. “In English literature. That’s where I met him.”
“God,” he said, staring at her.
“Anyway,” she said, “I’m sorry I’m going to have to hurry us along but I need to see my mother very shortly. So what I want, really, is to get rid of this floor …”
“Julia Carmichael,” Donny said, shaking his head and whistling softly.
6
T here’s a trick to getting through most of life’s absurdities, self-imposed or not: stay still, keep breathing, and eventually terrible moments turn into less extraordinary ones, then are in the past. Calmly, without panic, Bob retrieved his luggage and, in the safety of an airport washroom that did not lurch and buck at crucial moments, changed into new underwear and clean, dry trousers and socks.
Sienna was waiting for him outside the washroom. She stood tall and straight and bright as a beacon, had strong shoulders and luminous skin. “That’s better!” he said as he approached her, limping slightly from his wounds, pulling his luggage behind him, clutching closed his broken briefcase.
“You should complain,” she said.
“Absolutely!” he exclaimed. “That kind of mechanical failure is unconscionable! I’m going to send them my dry-cleaning bill and an invoice for, well, what can we call it? Psychological trauma! What if I’d had a weak heart? Or some kind of serious medical condition? Trapped in the washroom with water blasting out at me. Did you know there are noseatbelts in the washrooms? What are you supposed to do -?”
And on and on, all the way to the cab. New York was sunny and cool and settling into October with steel-grey clouds massing on the horizon, ominous as traffic
“He died of testicular cancer two years ago,” Donny said. “I kind of kept up with the family. I used to hang out with Bill until he went out west to work on the rigs. His son Bill.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“He didn’t go to Brookfield, he went to Hillcrest. He didn’t want to be in the same school where his dad taught. But I knew him through hockey. We played together from squirts to midgets.”
“Hmmmm,” said Julia.
“I remember you,” Donny said, his face very red now, eyes bright. “There was a scent you used to wear. I’d get to homeroom early and wait for you to sit down. It was … I don’t know what it was. But I just couldn’t wait. It was like, the start of my day.”
Now Julia was flushed.
“I smelled a touch of it just now when I walked in. I thought, shit, what’s that? Is that ever familiar! And then, you know, when I saw you.
Julia Carmichael
. You are still -”
He didn’t finish the thought. Julia didn’t want him to finish it.
“So you do – you do floors, is that it?” she said.
“I do everything,” he said, proudly. “I do walls, and bathrooms, I do landscaping and painting. I’ve done roofing, it’s not my favourite. Basements! I’m great on basements.” He paused. “You knew that Billy Marcello was killed?”
“Uh,” Julia said. “Was he?” She had a vague idea who Billy Marcello was. Perhaps.
“In prison,” Donny said. “He’d murdered a man seven years ago. It was a bar in Hull, he was drunk, it was predictable. And then in prison he got stabbed himself. I know his sister Ramone. She’s doing great now, she works for a lawyer, has four kids, and has this business on the side selling cosmetics. She really does well. She could come by, you know, if you like buying things out of catalogues. I’m sorry. I
never
got to talk to you in high school, I was too shy. So I guess it’s just pouring out! So what does your husband do?”
“That’s sweet, Donny,” Julia said softly. She thought maybe now she remembered him. He
had
tried to ask her out once. At least that’s what she thought he was trying to do. He’d ended up muttering something in the general direction of the floor until the bell rang for class change, at which point he’d fled. “He’s a university professor,” she said. “In English literature. That’s where I met him.”
“God,” he said, staring at her.
“Anyway,” she said, “I’m sorry I’m going to have to hurry us along but I need to see my mother very shortly. So what I want, really, is to get rid of this floor …”
“Julia Carmichael,” Donny said, shaking his head and whistling softly.
6
T here’s a trick to getting through most of life’s absurdities, self-imposed or not: stay still, keep breathing, and eventually terrible moments turn into less extraordinary ones, then are in the past. Calmly, without panic, Bob retrieved his luggage and, in the safety of an airport washroom that did not lurch and buck at crucial moments, changed into new underwear and clean, dry trousers and socks.
Sienna was waiting for him outside the washroom. She stood tall and straight and bright as a beacon, had strong shoulders and luminous skin. “That’s better!” he said as he approached her, limping slightly from his wounds, pulling his luggage behind him, clutching closed his broken briefcase.
“You should complain,” she said.
“Absolutely!” he exclaimed. “That kind of mechanical failure is unconscionable! I’m going to send them my dry-cleaning bill and an invoice for, well, what can we call it? Psychological trauma! What if I’d had a weak heart? Or some kind of serious medical condition? Trapped in the washroom with water blasting out at me. Did you know there are noseatbelts in the washrooms? What are you supposed to do -?”
And on and on, all the way to the cab. New York was sunny and cool and settling into October with steel-grey clouds massing on the horizon, ominous as traffic
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