Shelf Monkey (19 page)

“What’s your take on the Patriot Act?”

“That is enough!” Kura hollered, drenching the first row with spit. Agnes tottered beside him, while Page handed her tissues from her purse. “I don’t know what you think Miss Coleman has done to deserve such treatment, but —”

“You’re
FIRED
, Aubrey!” Page screamed.

“Yo, Agnes!” Warren called out as he stood up awkwardly, and in some pain, his voice nonetheless effortlessly drowning out everyone else. “The pages, ouch, the pages of your novel are of such rich fibre, Ms. Coleman, I have to know, they are so soft and absorbent, did you foresee the eventual use of your novel to wipe my ass?”

That was the straw. The camel lay broken and dying on stage, while the three of us hastily barrelled ourselves through a suddenly violent throng of dowagers and housewives. Aubrey and I cowered behind Warren’s limping bulk as he bolted for the exit, enduring a processional of slaps and punches and the occasional thrown hardcover. We made the safety of the front doors, and as we tore out of the building, laughing into the night, we could hear Agnes wailing over the ruckus, and as shameful as it sounds now, it was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard.

“you
PRICK
!
”

I winced. If you think what we did was shocking, hearing Page burst into obscenities is a million times worse.

“Thomas?” Warren murmured.

“Yeah?” I whispered back.

“I think that did the trick.”

“What?”

“My erection’s gone.”

“Well, that’s something at least.”

Warren and I sat outside Page’s office, fretfully awaiting our respective turns in the chamber of discipline. We had been treated like heroes by many of the staff upon our arrival at that morning’s meeting, shocked that we dared to show up for work at all. Even I was impressed by the size of my balls that morning. I originally opted to stay home and assume my unemployment was a given, but Aubrey bolstered our self-assurance with assertions that we must go forth boldly and face the music, lest we be labelled as being ashamed of our actions and cowards to the cause. Our status as near-mythic deities was short-lived, however; as soon as Page charged in, a curt “Everyone get to work!” replacing her standard pre-opening spiel, the adoring eyes of my workmates rapidly averted their gaze to the floor. Page thrust out her hand, three
fingers extended, one for each of us. “You three. My office. Now!” Recognizing well ahead of time that our deeds would never go unpunished did little to alleviate my dread. No one really enjoys a chewing out, deserved or not, but it’s the anticipation that kills you. I had fully prepared myself for a pink slip and forcible ejection from the premises the moment we began plotting the surprisingly easy downfall of Agnes. The way I saw it, the previous night’s entertainment would function both as valuable personal therapy and as an effective form of social anti-depressant, a quick-fix mood elevator that had the added bonus of pissing off so many people I didn’t care for. I wasn’t worried about myself, and Warren and Aubrey could certainly look after themselves. The lack of news cameras at the actual event softened the impact of our protest, but only just. Page somehow had managed to keep our names from publication, the
Free Press
instead labelling us “unknown agitators” and describing Aubrey as “a bushy-haired employee”; to my mind, a much preferable interpretation to our actions than the
Winnipeg Sun
’s glaring giant-font front-page headline
TASTELESS PUNKS MAKE AUTHOR CRY
.

“Do you have any idea how much damage your stunt has caused this store?” Page yelled. Her voice came through the thin door clearly, adding to our discomfort. Why couldn’t she just fire us calmly? Honestly, some people just look for excuses to be irrational.

“Oh, chill out, Page, Jeez!” Aubrey shot back. He was giving as good as he got. “You think we’d set the woman on fire! We just let off some steam. All we did was correct an error.”

“What in God’s name are you talking about? What error? You, you verbally assaulted an invited guest! Not to mention the near riot you caused! Did you know she actually fainted from the stress you caused her? God, we’ll be lucky if no one sues. There are major slander issues here.”

“Stop blowing it out of proportion,” he retorted. “Nothing we said remotely counts as slander. Thomas says so. Insulting, yes, which was the point, but not slander, so you’re safe.” I beamed. My law degree had finally come in handy.

“In fact,” Aubrey continued, “the entire event could be viewed as a performance art piece, a prolonged example of literary satire.
Maybe we could do it all the time, it’ll become an honour for invited guests to be dragged across the coals by the
READ
threesome, authors will line up and beg for it. We can sell tickets. Tell you what, I’ll draft up a proposal, see if we can get an arts grant.”

“You three are gone! You are banned, you hear me? I’ll have the police drag you out if you stay, I don’t care if you own —”

“Just try it,” said Aubrey, his voice suddenly lowered. “You just try it, Page. I dare you.” It was deathly quiet on the other side of the door. Something very odd had just occurred, but I couldn’t think of what. Murmurs, indistinct, wormed their way back outside the office. I looked at Warren, who shrugged in shared confusion, and the two of us leaned our heads toward the door, striving to hear more.

“— can’t do that,” Page was saying.

“Watch me,” Aubrey said. “You want to make this ugly, I’ll match you step for step. Lawyers, trials, the works. I’ll close this place down before I let you win.”

“Why?” said Page. She sounded scared. “You’d destroy what we’ve built, for what? Just so you can get your kicks?”

“We’ve had a good run, Page. We’ve each made some money, more than I ever believed we could. I’m sure you’ll do fine on your own. Besides, I’ve been unhappy lately, you know that. It’s about time I stretched my wings and flew off for a bit.”

“Please, we worked so hard. Why can’t you just leave me be, take your money and just go.”

“Nope. I gave you Emily, but this is more important. Those two out there, with their ears against the door, they’re friends of mine. I talked them into it. I’m responsible for them, and I will not have them lose their jobs. You leave us alone, and everything will go along just as it always has.”

There was a troubling minute of complete silence. I pressed my ear up against the wood. I could just make out Page’s voice, a violent whisper. “If you ever do this again, I’ll call your bluff. I’ll put everyone out of work. You, Danae, those idiots outside, everyone. I won’t stand for this anymore.”

“Just so we understand each other,” Aubrey said. I jerked my head back at the sound of his footsteps approaching. Aubrey
opened the door and stepped out, closing it slowly enough that Page’s angry breathing was audible. His skin was a morass of oils, his dreadlocks wilting with sweat. He slid a hand down over his face, saw us sitting there, forced a smile to the surface. “Cheer up, brothers, we live to fight another day!”

“What, that’s it?” asked Warren, deeply flummoxed. “We’re good? Just like that?”

“We’re good to go, Warren,” Aubrey said. “Everything’s, uh, copacetic. You just have to know how to talk to her. She’s a pussycat, really.”

Warren and I exchanged a look. “You know, we could hear everything in there,” I said.

“Yeah, c’mon, Aubrey,” said Warren. “You better buy us dinner first, you gonna fuck us like this.”

I nodded my confusion. “What’s going on, Aubrey? ’Fess up. We should be on the street begging for spare change by now.”

“You got pictures of her or something, that it?” Warren asked.

“Yeah, there’s no way she’d just let it drop, Aubrey,” I said. “We knew that going in. I was already prepping my résumé.”

“Look, it’s not something I want to talk about,” Aubrey said. He walked quickly away, Warren and me in hot pursuit.

“C’mon, dude, what’s going on?” Warren asked as we took a left at Gay/Lesbian fiction. We were now running. Our footfalls echoed through the aisles. “Aubrey, what gives?” Warren yelled, his knees rising to my chest. I was taking two steps for every one of Warren’s. Aubrey faked a left at Hockey, went right instead down Football/Soccer, then cut across Golf, and broke into a full sprint, giving us the slip at Travel.

“Where’d he go?” I wheezed to Warren. He craned his neck over the shelves, then grabbed my collar. “This way! Canadian History!” We dashed forward, Warren in the lead, effortlessly weaving his bulk through several families as he followed the red bobbing locks through Children’s Fiction, catching sight of Aubrey near the U.S. History/Performing Arts Criticism cloverleaf, and finally breathing down his neck as Aubrey began to lose steam at the Spirituality/ Self-Help junction.

Aubrey whirled back at us, sending me careening left into the bookshelves as I swerved to avoid a collision, books flying as I
drove my arms into the shelves to catch my balance. Warren, being the greater in mass, ran past Aubrey by several metres before he could bring his velocity to a halt. The three of us stood there warily for a moment, scrutinizing each other, punctuating the silence with deep ragged breaths, scads of Gilbert Morris and Karen Kingsbury scattered about our feet.

Warren broke the peace. “You’re going to tell us what’s going on here, buddy.”

“Let it alone, guys,” Aubrey begged softly. He crouched and started to gather the books in his arms. “Please don’t ask me again. Please.”

“I don’t think that’s an option anymore,” I said.

Warren loomed over Aubrey. A strange look had come into his eyes. “I swear to God, Aubrey, if you don’t spill —”

“Drop it, all right?” Aubrey practically shouted this at us, his voice pushing us away into the stacks. I was stunned. Even Warren looked fearful. “You both still got your jobs, everything’s taken care of, so just fucking let it go already! Jesus Christ, I thought you ingrates’d be happy!” He stalked away, fuming, throwing his armload of Janette Oke to the carpet. “Leave me the fuck alone for a while! Jesus, can’t you guys do anything without me?”

Warren and I stood there for a time, quietly dazed as we stared after him. “Now, what do you think —” I began to ask, stopping short when I looked up.

Warren’s large eyes swam in water. “What the . . . the . . . what the hell was that about?” he whined. Being yelled at by Page was one thing, but this was something else altogether. The contrast of Warren’s massive frame with his face, screwed up in sadness, was appallingly pathetic. “Thomas, what’s going on?” he asked again, his baleful eyes lending him the look of an enormous basset hound. He started to hiccup. “I mean . . . Aubrey . . . he . . .”

I shook my head weakly. “We’ll find out, big man,” I assured him. “You, me, Danae. We’ll corner him at home or something, make him confess. We’ll go after work, okay?” Warren’s bottom lip fluttered. The dam was full to bursting. “Warren, come on, pull it together. You want Page to see you like this?”

“Yeah, but . . .
man
.” Warren wiped a tear away before it could escape his eye. “I mean, man, I . . . why’d he have to
yell
, dude?”

Awkward is nowhere near a strong enough word for how I felt at that moment. Should I hug him? Pat him on the back? The seven-foot monster is going to cry, the Hooded Fang needs a hug. What’s the appropriate manly response to such an event? Doc Newhire would tell him to let it out, but come on, we’re in the middle of a fucking bookstore here.

I opted for tough love. “Hey, soldier! Buck up!” I punched him on the arm. “Suck it up, buttercup!”

Well, it got his attention. His eyes cleared. He grinned. “Did you just say ‘suck it up, buttercup’?”

“You heard me!” I went into
Full Metal Jacket
mode. “You think you’ve got it tough, well, go home and cry to mama, you want a hug, you pussy! We’re here to work, motherfucker!”

Warren smiled, then snapped to attention. “
Jawohl
, Sergeant Schultz.”

“I was really going for the R. Lee Ermey thing.”

“Hey, you’re lucky you got Schultz. Threatening you are
not
, bud.” He punched me back on the arm, lightly. I was sore for days. “Thanks, bro.”

“No prob.”

“That was weird, huh?’

“One word for it.”

“It’s just.” He thought for a second. “It’s like when your parents yell at you or something when you’re young, you don’t know why, but man, you feel it deep.” He took a deep breath. He wasn’t happy, but neither was he a blubbering fool.

“Uh, don’t tell anyone, okay? About this?”

“You think anyone’d believe me?”

That evening, having corralled Danae into joining up, the three of us split cab fare to Aubrey’s place. Warren was sullen and quiet, still working to rein in his emotions. He took a moment to build up his game face after we arrived. This game face, I noted with not a small degree of fear, was a face that truly belonged on someone of Warren’s stature, fearsome and warrior-like, a face to be carved into the side of mountains to inspire and intimidate further generations. I opted for a simpler yet no less effective look of sustained confusion.

An unsurprised Aubrey responded to our knock. “Come on in,
guys,” he said. “Beer’s in the fridge, pizza’s on the way, and . . . Warren, you look awful, have you been crying?”

“Almost.” The warrior in Warren decided to loosen up a bit. “C’mere, dude.” Warren grabbed Aubrey in a crushing bearhug. Aubrey gasped for breath, but I held Danae back from helping to free him from Warren’s squeeze. Aubrey had this coming.

Later, Warren’s sentimental nature quelled under a mountain of cheese and pepperoni, the four of us quietly drinking and smoking our ways to oblivion. I hazily recalled why we had come.

“So what the fuck, Aubrey?”

“Aw, brother,” he began. “You don’t need —”

“No, no, you don’t leave us hanging now,” Warren said. “I’m about wiped out from all this, but I swear to God I will kick your ass through the wall if you don’t ’fess up.”

“Brotherman, that’s uncalled for.”

“I think it’s definitely called for, brother.”

“Second!” I seconded.