Monkey Beach (37 page)

I commandeered the bathroom at the end of the hallway. I bathed for an hour, causing one of the other tenants to urinate on the door as a protest.

“Soak in that, ya bitch!” he yelled, hammering the door one last time.

I dropped underwater, scrubbing my scalp. I had asked the clerk to upgrade me to the luxury suite. He gave me a room three doors down from my previous residence. It was exactly the same, except it had an electric burner and a kettle. As I lay on the squeaky bed sipping tea, I could hear two of my friends frantically knocking on my old door, telling me to stop fucking around. Other friends came and went. The same tenant who had pissed on the bathroom door became disgruntled at the stream of people disturbing his sleep and took to hurling empty beer bottles at anyone who knocked too long.

“Fucking take a Valium, man,” I heard one of my party pals yell.

“Fucking learn some manners, you inconsiderate prick! I gotta work tomorrow!”

“I hope you’re fired,” party pal muttered.

“I heard that!” the man yelled.

They traded insults, with other tenants joining in, telling everybody to shut up. My party pal finally left and the man slammed his door.

The next day, my stomach was up to broth. I snuck out of my room, made a dash for the nearest corner store, bought a stash of bouillon cubes, smokes and a box of tea, then headed back, hoping not to bump into anyone. I knew that if they talked to me I’d give in and go party because the room was small and empty and bare and cold.

No matter which way I looked at it, I’d either pickled my brain or my brain was finally clear. There was no way to avoid it any more: I decided to check out the next morning and go see Aunt Trudy. If what I’d seen was just my overactive imagination, fine. But if Tab really was dead, Aunt Trudy would need someone to be there for her.

I put my stuff in a plastic shopping bag and took the bus across town to her house. From the blasting music and the lineup of cars parked on her street, I knew the moment I walked up her steps that Aunt Trudy was in full party mode. I knocked on the door, but no one answered. I rang the doorbell and waited. After a couple of minutes, I opened the door and went inside.

“Yowtz!” I said. When there was still no answer, I stepped inside. The hallway was bare of its usual clutter. I had expected to see people everywhere, but the living room was full of boxes, all the pictures were off the walls and the furniture was pushed into one corner. No one was in the kitchen, or in the downstairs bedrooms. I shut off the stereo. “Yowtz! It’s me, Lisa!”

“Lisa?” her voice said. It sounded like it was coming from upstairs. I started to go up, but she met me on the steps, throwing her arms open and giving me a fierce, crushing hug. “Hi, baby,” she said. “I haven’t seen you for ages, just ages! We were all worried about you.”

“I’m okay,” I said. “Ow, ow, you’re hurting me.”

“Whoops! Here, come on, I’ll make you some coffee. How the hell are you?”

I followed her as she wobbled into the kitchen. She swayed so much, I told her I’d make the coffee but she waved me off, saying I was a guest. I sat down at the table and watched her root through the boxes piled on the counter to find the coffeepot.

“Looks like you’re moving,” I said.

“Yeah, Josh got me into Native housing. Good old Josh. He always looks out for me. It’s a two-bedroom. Big. New. Where’d I put those filters?”

“It’s okay, I’m not—”

“No, no. I’ll find them. Tab’s room is really big. Ungrateful twit. You know what she said to me?”

“You talked to her?”

“She phoned two days ago. Yap, yap, yap. You know how she is.”

“Oh,” I said, and the relief flooded through me. Well, there you go, I thought. It was just a dream. I felt dizzy so I put my head on the kitchen table.

“You don’t look so good,” Aunt Trudy said. “You want a fixer-upper instead?”

I laughed and pushed myself upright as Aunt Trudy pulled a bottle of whisky out of her fridge. “No. No, I’m just—” Relieved? Insane? “Hungover.”

“Ah,” she said. “Here. Have one on me.”

“I’m kind of cutting back.”

“Yeah? Me, too,” she said, pouring herself a glass. She held it up. “Wanesica.”

The pot beeped. The kitchen was filled with the smell of coffee and stale cigarettes. She found a cup for me and dug around for the sugar. When she sat down at the table she said, “Guess who’s going into treatment.”

“You?” I said.

She grinned. “That’s what everyone says. After I move my stuff into my new place, I’m off to Alberni!”

“Bullshit.”

“Gonna have one last blowout! You up for it?”

I shook my head. She sipped her whisky.

“So Tab’s okay?” I said.

“Tab’s Tab. That one can take care of herself. You know what she said when I told her? She said it’s about time, don’t screw it up.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, that’s Tab.”

“You going home?”

I shrugged.

“You better. You’re giving your parents kittens.”

“Are they really mad?”

She reached over and patted my shoulder. “My floor is your floor. You can stay at my place as long as you want. I’ll be gone for eight weeks, but Josh’ll be there until fishing season starts so you’ll have some company.”

“Do you mind?” I said, pulling out my smokes.

She waved her consent and asked me for one, then wrinkled her nose when I handed her a menthol. “You smoke this crap? Why don’t you get some real smokes?”

“It’s easier on your throat.”

“Yech,” she said, but smoked it anyway.

“Yowtz!” We both turned as someone knocked on the door.

“Josh!” Aunt Trudy yelled. “We’re in the kitchen!”

“You ready to roll, Tru—” He stopped at the door and grinned when he saw me. He was bigger than he
was the last time I’d seen him. He’d cut his hair so short, he almost looked bald. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

“Thanks,” I said, then yelped as he lifted me off the chair and twirled me around.

“Little Lisamarie,” he said, setting me down. “All grown up.” He tousled my hair. “How’s my favourite troublemaker?”

“Fine,” I said, annoyed.

“The cab’s waiting,” he said to Trudy. She grabbed her purse and asked me again if I was coming. She wouldn’t take no for an answer and I didn’t really want to stay in her place by myself.

We caught the cab to a booze can in Surrey. I knew the house and cringed when I thought of meeting up with my party pals. The Dobermans on chains at the entrance snarled and hurled themselves at us as we walked down the stairs leading to the basement. The walls were covered in soft, grey soundproofing material and the floor was covered in classic green shag. Josh excused himself. I tucked myself into a corner beside the pool table, sipping a four-buck glass of orange juice. When you were sober, the place was grungy and seedy. The normal buzz of excitement I felt when I came here was muted. But, I thought, the party hadn’t even started yet. The booze can would get hopping when the bars closed.

“Frank?” Josh yelled. I looked up to see Frank pausing at the den door that led to the hallway. He was almost as tall as Josh now, nearly six feet, but he was all bones and angles. They stared at each other then Frank looked down and away.

“Hey, where the hell have you been?” Josh said.

Frank brushed past him as if they didn’t know each other. Josh watched him go, a puzzled, hurt expression on his face. He came and sat on the arm of the sofa. “Did you see that?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“You know what he’s mad about? I wouldn’t cosign a car lease for him. But I ask you, is that any reason to treat me like that?”

I shrugged. “Family.”

“Family,” he said. “Where’s Trudy?”

“Getting a refill,” I said.

He shook his head. “She’s never going to last eight weeks. I told her, old boozehounds like us can’t change. You’d never catch me going back there,” he said. “You want a refill?”

“No, thanks. Aunt Trudy’s getting me one.”

“You ever need anything, just ask,” he said. “I mean it, I really do.”

“I’m fine.”

“Mick was always there for me. Anytime I needed help, I never even had to ask. He was the most generous guy I ever knew. He had the biggest heart. He was like a brother.”

I swished the orange juice in my cup. “Do you have any extra copies of those pictures of Mick?”

“Done,” he said. “I’ve got a box of pictures at Trudy’s. When we go back, help yourself.”

“Thanks. It would mean a lot.”

“No problem. He talked about you all the time. Monster this and Monster that.”

“Did he ever mention Cookie?”

“Cookie? His wife? What about her?”

“Do you know what happened to her?

His face lost all expression. “Someone tied her up and put her in her car. Then they set it on fire. It was way the hell in the middle of nowhere. The police said it was a suicide and the FBI—”

“What’s all the glum faces about?” Aunt Trudy asked as she sat down beside me.

“She asked about Cookie,” he said.

“Oh, God,” Aunt Trudy said, grimacing. “This is my last night of freedom and you two wanna bring me down.” She shook her head. “That’s enough of this. Who wants to dance!” She grabbed Josh’s wrist and towed him to the centre of the room. Josh did a two-step back and forth while Aunt Trudy bounced around him.

I didn’t want to venture out of the den, but I needed to pee. The lineup for the bathroom was long. I sighed and leaned against the wall. This had been a mistake. I wished I’d stayed at home.

“Lisa?” Frank peered at me. He was wearing cologne, something woodsy. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s my line,” I said, forcing my mouth into a smile, then letting it fall away, knowing it probably looked dumb. “How you doing?”

“Good. Good.”

“How long you down?”

“Until tomorrow. I’m driving Adelaine back to Kitamaat.”

“Oh. Good.”

“It was good seeing you.”

“You too.” He was turning away, retreating into
the crowd. I wanted to call him back, but I didn’t know what to say to him. What could I say? Sorry for dumping on you when I had a problem with Cheese? Then I heard, over the pounding bass, a high, familiar whistling. I turned my head slowly but it was just a kettle going off somewhere.

“Hey!” Karaoke said, pushing herself beside Frank. She said something to him and he shook his head. She thumped his chest, and took off.

Someone had puked in the sink and mostly missed. I held my breath, but couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Josh was surrounded by a cluster of women. The only ones I knew were Aunt Trudy and Karaoke, who was trying to get money from him.

“Alberni? Really? There’s a treatment centre where the residential school used to be?” one of the women said to Aunt Trudy.

Another woman laughed, then said, “Hey, how many priests does it take to change a lightbulb?”

“How many?”

“Three. One to screw it, one to beat it for being screwed and one to tell the lawyers that no screwing took place.”

“That’s not funny,” Josh said.

“That’s the point,” the woman said.

“Come on,” Karaoke said. “Just a couple of bucks.”

“Lisa,” Josh said. “Have you met Adelaine?”

“Yeah. We met a couple of times. Hi,” I said to her.

“Do I know you?” Aunt Trudy slurred. “You seem familiar. Who’s your mother?”

“This is my niece Adelaine,” Josh said. “Who should be home by now.”

Karaoke took her beer and downed it in one gulp, “Come on—”

“Adelaine,” he said, “let’s go home.”

“Screw you,” she said, turning on one heel and stomping out.

Josh shook his head. “You gotta love family.”

I stayed with Aunt Trudy another half-hour then called a cab. When I told her I had a headache, she gave me the keys to her place. Josh tried to give me money but I said I had my own. I stood on the sidewalk and willed the cab to arrive faster as the dogs barked and strained against their chains. I was about to give up and go back inside when someone stopped beside me and touched my shoulder. I turned around and was looking up at Frank. He stepped back. “You need a ride somewhere?”

“Sure,” I said.

“My car’s down the block.” At the car, he went to the passenger’s side and held the door open for me.

“Do you know where Aunt Trudy lives?” I said as he started the engine.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Been there many times.” He stared straight ahead. I asked if the radio worked. He said no. Fifteen minutes later, he asked if I’d been to any good movies. I said no.

“So. How you been doing?” I said.

“It’s been kind of tough since Pooch.”

“What about Pooch?”

“Didn’t you hear?” Frank said. “He shot himself. He’s in the hospital. They’re taking his organs tomorrow. I’m going to the funeral with Adelaine. No one told you?”

“No.” The cars and the street began to blur, everything was out of focus.

“You want me to stop the car?”

“Oh. No. When?”

“He shot himself about three weeks ago.”

“Oh.” and we drove in silence the rest of the way. At Aunt Trudy’s he asked, “You going up for the funeral? You can ride up with us if you want. I mean, with me and Adelaine. The two of us. She’ll be sleeping most of the way. I wouldn’t mind an extra driver. If you want to come.”

I opened the door. Ride up. Pooch dead. Funeral. “Oh.”

“It was good seeing you,” Frank said.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“We’re leaving pretty early. Or the bus leaves at eight. If you want to get some more sleep.”

“What time are you picking me up?”

“Lisa?”

“Pooch.” I was going to say something, but it left my head before I could get it out. It seemed important to say something.

“You’re looking kind of spacey. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be ready. I have everything packed.”

“We’ll be here at five. Do you want me to phone?”

“No, Ma-ma-oo will wake me up. She always gets up early.”

Frank ducked his head, then looked away. “Um, isn’t she dead?” he asked. When I didn’t answer, he touched my arm, and gently steered me to the door. He took the keys from my hands and opened the door. His mouth moved and I realized he was talking.
“—you didn’t know. I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that.”