Mutherfugger, he howled, that’ll put hair on your shaft!
JESUS, listen to those guys.
Aw, they’re just having fun.
Pearl spat cider back into her glass. Deb? Wow, that’s not like you.
Like me? What do you mean?
You used to chew up guys like that. No smartass comments? Look at them — wait, don’t look at them, they’ll think you’re interested.
I just figure everyone’s got a right to a good time. They’re not hurting anyone. I mean, not in this instant. Outside of here, of course, they’re the enemy.
Huh. You used to be so funny.
I’m still funny.
Are you?
I don’t know. Adine’s funny, in her way. Maybe she’s funny for both of us.
Pete arrived with Debbie’s wings, held up their empty jug with a questioning look.
One more, said Pearl.
You don’t have to be back? For your kids? What time is it?
But Pearl was watching the bartender return to his post. Is he going to get that phone?
Pete dispenses drinks and wisdom, said Debbie. Don’t expect much else.
Pete. How long have you been living here?
Let’s see, I’m thirty-one, I came to the Institute when I was eighteen, so —
No, in UOT.
Years, now. Since I moved in with Adine.
Right.
Debbie smacked the table. I forgot to tell you! Though, wait, now I forget. .
What?
Someone from the team’s coaching now. Coaching the Y’s, not at the Institute. .
Who?
I can’t remember! Isn’t that terrible? It’s just, I haven’t really been up with ball-related stuff. I’m trying to think, though, who it might have been. .
Pearl waited.
Anyway. Neat, right?
Whoever it was.
Debbie took a wing, eyed Pearl. I feel bad, she said, nibbling, that no one else came.
It’s fine.
No, it’s not. Wouldn’t it have been great to get everyone out? Could have been a perfect excuse for a little reunion. And short notice, I know I said that, but it’s no excuse, right? Blame me. As I said, I’ve been a little AWOL from that whole scene.
Doing what?
I’ve been doing more like, activism-type work, with a different crowd. Stuff around the park. So I’ve met some new friends through that. And Adine, of course — I see her. Though lately she doesn’t see me, ha. Anyway you barely ever come home. I feel bad.
Stop saying that, home. My home is very, very far from here. This isn’t a homecoming, Deb. It’s a vacation. And we only came here because of my son.
I just mean —
I’m not home. Do you understand?
But your parents —
No plans to see those two appleheads this weekend either.
WE MAKE A GOOD squad, Bailie — even if you’re a fuggin asphodel. Maybe because you’re such a fuggin asphodel. And I’m weedkiller! So we’re balanced or whatever.
Um. Thank you.
Though you still need to lighten up.
I’m lightened! I’m wasted. I feel like I could float home.
Starx ordered more schnapps. Olpert was still chasing the first one’s burn with cider, it fizzed in his nose, he pulled away snorting.
Easy there Bailie.
Olpert wiped his face with a napkin, looked at Starx. I’ve been meaning to say: you shouldn’t have socked that boy. Even if he spat on me. That wasn’t right.
Socked. Bailie, the words you use. I hardly socked him. Just a little love-tap.
Love-tap? You could have killed him.
Killed? With a little knock like that? You don’t ever dust it up, as a security guard?
At Municipal Works? Who would I dust it up with?
What do they got you carrying? A nightstick? Spray?
Sometimes staff come in to work latenights and I have to check their ID badges. I’ve got a scanner for that. Starx was searching his face for something. What?
Bailie, listen. You have no idea about anything — you don’t understand people, what people can do. You probably think those blackups are the reason we started Zone patrols.
Does this reason also explain why you go around socking children?
Someday, Bailie — someday I’ll tell you a story.
Not now?
No.
Pete brought two more shots and another round of ciders. As he turned away the phone started ringing again. He swept it from its cradle and banged it down, hard.
Starx?
Go talk to that woman.
Starx sipped his drink in silence. Olpert shredded his coaster onto the bartop. The phone was ringing. Scowling, Pete disappeared into the kitchen. Starx burped. The phone silenced. And started ringing again.
I HAVE TO ADMIT I was a little wary about meeting out here. Never mind bringing the kids, though Kellogg had some sort of freak-out.
Oh yeah?
Well you know. UOT. This used to be one of the neighbourhoods you just didn’t go. After Lakeview Homes closed.
Right.
Though I guess people are really starting to move out here?
Her glass halfway to her mouth, Debbie paused. I’m sorry — people?
Pearl blinked.
What people?
You know. People.
Debbie put her drink down.
People like us, whatever.
And what are we like, Pearl?
Forget it.
No, come on, I’m not being confrontational, honestly. You said people are moving here — people like us. I just want to know what people you’re talking about.
Forget it, okay? I’m very proud of you for living here. You’re very brave —
No, no. That’s not what I mean. I’m just interested is all.
Pearl opened her mouth, closed it, pushed back from the table, looked at her watch. The air over the table had turned jagged and static.
What? Are we done?
It’s past eleven.
Right, well at this hour the trains only run every fifteen minutes. The next eastbound Yellowline is —
Now you’re telling me how to get back? I grew up here, Deb. You’re not even from here. I love people like you, who move —
People like me? I’m sorry, are those different from people like you? Because a minute ago we were the same. We were people like us, remember.
This conversation is stupid. This is not a conversation. I don’t know what this is. Pearl stood. I have to go to the bathroom, she said, and moved with care, one step after the next, toward the toilets.
Debbie gazed mournfully at the empty seat across from her, tried to pinpoint the moment things had swung so drastically in the wrong direction. If only she could rewind the night somehow, and reset it on a different, more affable path. She looked around, avoiding eye contact with the guys at the bar. The Institute kids had cleared out. The place was quiet. She realized the ringing in her ears was gone. Two hours earlier she’d fled that awful sound — and come here, to this: drunk and alone, with a basket of bones.
LOOK, she’s solo, said Starx. Make your move.
From Olpert came a panicked bleat, like a vexed sheep.
What was that? Is that your alert siren?
I’m too drunk.
You’re not. You’re the perfect amount of drunk.
Olpert lay his head on the bar. Her name was Debbie, the other woman had said it. She was a full person now: Debbie.
Don’t do that, with your face. It’s disgusting. Who knows where that bar has been.