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Loss Revisited

Posted on September 16, 2007
Filed Under The Stories |

There was something achingly familiar about the whole situation, where the ache came from the familiarity not being all that pleasant. Like lifting a girl’s skirt for the first time and being hit by the smell. It didn’t matter if it was stale sweat or overly sweet powder like the kind that smells great off the top of a baby’s head – that shock of finding Smell-o-vision where there should have only been picture (and perhaps the sound of her squealing in outrage) was enough to see most little boys through childhood without lifting any more skirts. At least until every other sense had been flattened by testosterone any way.

He couldn’t figure out why something felt familiar. Until he heard her voice from just over his right shoulder, requesting a coffee. He knew she would emphasize black and he muttered to himself, “What kind of muffins do you have?”

An old girlfriend (as in from a long time ago) had told him that his whispers sounded like gunshots through a homemade silencer. She wasn’t a poet or a philosopher so he had dismissed her assessment. Unfortunately for him, she was right. The voice over his right shoulder was definitely directed at him as she said, “Excuse me?” He squeezed his eyes shut and wondered whether he could teleport out of there, at that very moment, just by wishing it. He figured he’d wasted his three favours on bitches, booze and Blackjack because he was still around when she said, “Do I know you?”

He turned around on his swiveling barstool and met her squinting eyes, “That depends. On how good your eyesight is.”

She took a step back, her right hand fluttered to her lips and she seemed to inhale the words, “Oh my God,” instead of breathing them out like a normal person. He grimaced and sipped his own lots of cream, lots of sugar coffee, “I guess it’s pretty good.”

She followed her initial word swallowing with, “What are you doing here?”

“Drinking my coffee and reading my paper if that’s okay with you.”

“No, I mean in the city.”

“Just…business.”

“Do you have enough?”

“Pardon?”

“Enough money. To pay off whatever debt you’re running from.”

He met her eyes, “I could have changed you know.”

“Be serious Ryan.”

“Does it look like I’m trying to hold back laughter?”

She turned away, “I see it’s still useless talking to you.”

“Which is why we didn’t talk much.”

Her response was pretty tart, even for her, “So I guess after all these years you’re no use at all.”

“You doubting my manhood woman?”

Her eyes flashed, “That was never in doubt. I was wondering how far along you were with erectile dysfunction.”

He patted his thigh, “Why don’t you hop on and find out?”

“Fuck you.”

“Is that an invitation young lady? Because you look like you could use a wild ride.”

“Yeah right!”

“Don’t do that. Call me on my house-keeping skills, bitch about my inability to hang on to money for any longer than it takes someone to pay me, call me a cheater, kick me to the street for washing infrequently and graffiti up the street about how I wouldn’t know love if it bit me on the ass but never, ever, lie about the sex being bad.”

She sighed, “Sex doesn’t make the world go round though.”

“Sure it does!”

“Fine! Maybe. But it didn’t put food on our table.”

“We could’ve taken turns turning tricks. Sell your ass to fill your stomach. I’m all for it. I’d be good at it too. So would you.”

“Fuck you twice.”

“From your lips to the ears of Lucifer…”

She turned away and focused on paying for her coffee. He noticed her hands were shaking worse than his after a month on really cheap booze. He didn’t say anything more, chose to wait it out, see how much anger she was packing. He wanted to have something in reserve in case she tossed anything else at him. She accepted the coffee and managed a smile for the barista before she walked out the door, and his life, yet again.

He blew a kiss at the swinging door and stared off into the blur with a tiny, ironic smile, “You always did look good walking away…”

And the door swung on its hinges for the last time.

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