Some Great Thing (28 page)

“He was bleeding a lot.”

“I see.”

I
SLUNG THEM BOTH
on the seat of my pickup, bleeding bags of cement, the pair of them, my friends. That’s how they tell me—broken pieces of meat, bleeding the truth on my smelly tartan seats—We fuck each other, Jerry. I had to lay Kathleen, passed out, on top of Edgar, across the seat. There was no room for me to drive. I had to rest Edgar’s head on my lap, both of their faces looking up at me.

“My legs, Jerry, fuuuuuuuuuuuck, Jer, I’m sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry. I’m sorry.”

I should have got out, let them take care of themselves. Or tossed them in the back. Or let them drive. How about you bleeding bags of shit drive my pickup? I’ll get out of the way.

“Get her off me, Jerry. My legs!”

“She’s passed out.”

“Get her off me. My legs, Jerry.”

“She’s passed out.”

“S
HE IS STILL DELUSIONAL
, Mr. Herlihy.”

“Is she healing?”

“She should be. I can’t get a sense of how she is feeling. She has to stay still.”

“How long?”

“There’s something else, Mr. Herlihy.”

W
HETHER IT
’
S GOLF OR
houses … Listen to me … Whether it’s golf or houses or a gray goddamn parking lot, it’s essentials.

I’m talking about essentials. What people need. How about ambulances? How about ambulances for my lying friends?

Check out my bleeding tartan. It’s this fuckin cold outside and that blood won’t freeze. It’s all soaked warm and forever into that seat.

I’m talking about services. Essentials.

Sit on my bleeding tartan seat, and tell me how green, how natural it all is.

“I’
M SORRY, JERRY
.”

“How many stitches, Edgar?”

“They don’t know if the muscles will heal. I’m fuckin jelly, Jerry.”

“How many stitches?”

“It’s not the skin, man. It’s the muscles.”

“How
many
stitches? Just give me a number. Tell me how many times they stuck a needle into your legs. I want to hear it.”

“I don’t know.”

“You look like an idiot, Edgar. Your feathered little hairdo. You can’t fuck my wife, Edgar.”

“I know, Jerry.”

“M
UMMY
’
S FINE. SHE HURT
herself badly, but she’ll be fine.”

“I don’t call her mummy.”

“What do you call her?”

“Little boys say mummy.”

“That’s true. And Uncle Edgar, he basically shredded his legs, you know, back here, those calf muscles. But he’s fine.”

“How come they were driving together?”

“Do you want to see them?”

“No.”

“How come?”

“K
ATHLEEN
.”

“I’m down here.”

“I know. Can you see me? Open your eyes. It’s me: Jerry”

“Where’s Edgar?”

“Fuck Edgar.”

“Am I all right?”

“I don’t know. How do you feel?”

“Trapped.”

“It’s your ribs. You broke two ribs.”

“How many have I got?”

“What?”

“How many ribs?”

“I don’t know.”

“I feel like a feckin bruise.”

“You lost a tooth.”

“I can feel that.”

“Doctor thinks you swallowed it.”

“How long have I been here?”

“A few days.”

“It hurts when I cry.”

“So don’t cry.”

“Can you see my tooth, my … where my tooth was?”

“Is that what you’re crying about?”

“Fuck off, Jerry.”

“You fuck off, Kathleen.”

“I wasn’t … flippin sorry, Jerry I was only wondering if Edgar is all right. I crashed the truck.”

“I know you crashed the cock-sucking truck. I was right behind you.”

“I’m sorry, Jerry.”

“The doctor says there’s something else.”

S
IMON KNEW A MAN
who could help. Technically this sort of thing was a matter of aeronautics. This man knew aeronautics.

But it would be so much more.

I
BANGED MY NOSE
against a wall, that’s all I did. I was dazed, pretty sore, nose out of joint, yeah yeah.

Having worked in construction I reacted to pain as all workers should. There is the split second when you feel the pain, and you curse, but after that, reason, calm sets in. You have to think reasonably about what to do about your pain because usually it’s serious—nail through the foot, sawn-off finger tip. I spent a lifetime training myself to be calm after pain so I’d know what to do to make it better.

I was smarting from their affair and I was sort of swinging around, cursing. I had to decide what to do.

I am a reasonable man. Praise me. I am reasonable.

There were moments, maybe one or two, when I lost control, but not seriously. Edgar was in a wheelchair, for example, while he was in the hospital, and one day, the only day, when I persuaded Jerry to visit his mother and Edgar, I asked if he wanted a ride in a wheelchair. He was a big boy of twelve, so he probably didn’t want a ride, but I didn’t really give him a chance to answer. I just picked him up and put him in the chair while Edgar was still in it.

“Owwwwwchaffak!”

But, generally, you know, I was calm, reasonable, a strong and patient mountain of a man, God love me.

I can’t explain it. I’m sure you understand. I have no doubt that you have been cheated on.

Kathleen had spent twelve years draining my blood into little bags. Now she was standing in front of me, juggling the bags around, tossing them over my head to Edgar. I had to be reasonable.

K
ATHLEEN GOT OUT OF
hospital before Edgar did. When she came home I said to Jerry, I said, “Watch out for Mummy,” and he said, “I don’t friggin call her that,” and I said, “K.”

She had to lie on her back a lot, stay still. She was helpless.

“I’m feckin starving, Jerry,” she said.

And I said, “Jerry, fetch Mummy some toast or something, K, big guy?”

That started a pattern. I didn’t have time to look after her, because the rest of the world was humming, you know, white hot, so Jerry did a lot of the looking after, a lot of the fetching and what have you. I didn’t really have time to see Kathleen, to talk to her, listen to her.

Edgar was out of the hospital after a while. Do you know, as far as I know, they never saw each other alone again?

I didn’t visit Edgar in the hospital once Kathleen came home and I hoped not to see him for a long time, but he visited me on-site one day when he was able to use crutches.

“Jer.”

“Edgar.”

“Can I buy you a coffee?”

“Coffee shop’s not built yet.”

“True enough. Can I pour you a coffee?”

“If you want.” I didn’t really know how to react and my ass was clenching its fist. I said, “You’ve probably got something to say but there’s probably no need to say it, Edgar.”

And he said, “No, man, I’ve got to say it, I’ve got to say it all.”

And I said, “No, you don’t.”

“I do. Shit, I do, I’m sorry Jerry, I’m totally … you know,
Full
of sorry.”

“Right.”

“I am, Jerry. I can’t explain it. Kathleen … you know. I don’t know what she told you, but, shit, you know, I don’t know about her, but that accident threw me. Maybe she’s told you everything,
but … I liked her, sure, but I know she loves you. You know, she’s difficult, Jerry, and I know it’s not my place and you probably hate me, you
should
hate me, but I don’t know how to explain. I know she loves you, buddy, and me and her was just, you know, I don’t know what it was.”

“You don’t …”

“Yeah, I do, buddy. Shit, yeah I do. You know, it’s eating me up, man, and I’ve got to talk to you. That accident. My legs are like balsa wood, man, and you know, I can’t eat, because I’m
so sorry
. I feel kind of scared all the time. I can’t eat, seriously. I couldn’t eat before the accident even, because, seriously, I was betraying you, you know, I felt bad. And now since the accident for some reason I can only eat Jell-O, and … I can’t even shave, you know, I feel too weak to shave. Did you see my beard?”

“I see that, buddy.”

“And it doesn’t even suit me. I’m this bearded, skinny pussy now, aren’t I, and I know you don’t care, man, you
shouldn’t
care, but I’ve got to tell you how sorry I am, and sort of tell you what happened.”

“I don’t want to know what happened.”

“We just, you know, it was just in her truck sometimes, not even that much, and it was … I know it’s not right to say … it was kind of awful sometimes.”

“I don’t want to hear it …”

“I’ve got to, man. It wasn’t her, it was me. It was only sometimes, honestly, for maybe a couple of years, but …”

“Don’t …”

“I fuckin have to. I’m sorry. Seriously. It was mostly drinking, you know, having a laugh, like the three of us do, and I missed you, honestly, it’s what made me feel awful. She missed you. She’s a sad woman, Jer. It’s not my place, but … you weren’t there in the truck and we just, you know, it was like friends. Mostly drinking, warming up at lunch, that sort of thing. Sometimes, you know, even most
of the time, we seriously didn’t even want to, but, you know, this fuckin job. And I’m going all sort of, man, I just went all sort of, and I’m this, you know, this pussy, since the accident, I’m terrified. I looked at death …”

“Look, I’ll tell you what, pussy boy, you hurt your legs. That’s all.”

“I know, Jerry, I know, I don’t want you to understand. I know you
do
, I know you
can
understand, but I’m not asking you to. I looked at death, you know, and I realized I’m not a man. I am a man because it’s easy for me to die, I can die any minute because I’m a man, but I’m not a
man
. I looked at it, you know, death, but I can’t
face
it. I don’t know what Kathleen says, but that accident changed my life. That day … you know, on that day, Kathleen, she’s looking in her rearview mirror, you know, we weren’t doing anything, and she’s looking in her mirror and she says, ‘Shit! It’s Jerry!’, you know, and she starts driving. Both of us were panicking, it’s Jerry, it’s Jerry, and she was bombed. We were drinking because it was so cold that day, but she was really looped. We thought, I guess she thought, you were chasing us. I’m so
sorry
. And it starts tipping. This terrifying tipping.”

“Do you know what? I
really
don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Enough.”

“I need you … I know it’s stupid, fuckin corny. I know you hate me, but please forgive me. Please forgive me, my friend Jerry, I am
that
fuckin sorry.”

I didn’t hear any of it. I know I just repeated every word for you but I have special powers. I can build houses, I can repeat conversations for you. I didn’t hear a word of it at the time. Forgive?

“Forgive?” I said. Real forgiveness comes from really hearing. I didn’t really hear him. “Look at your fuckin beard,” I said.

“I’
M HUNGRY, JER
!”

“Jerry can you fix Mummy some soup or something?”

I
COULDN
’
T GET RID
of that golf-course idea. I have no idea why I wanted to build a golf course, why I hung on to that idea. But it seemed like a good one.

A whole community you see, a whole community brought together by a game—it’s a sweet idea, even if you hate the game. And there’s all that
green
. If green is to your taste, there it is.

I have never had reason to doubt my ideas. I don’t think I told you, for example, that a particularly admired feature of my self-cleaning houses was a central vacuum system. It was an idea I had—I didn’t invent it, but I used it
way
before it caught on,
way
before you and your friends might have got one.

The people buying my houses were rich. Rich people, and people who hope that they really are rich, like to play golf. Plus, even though I prefer to look at buildings, I understand that people like to look at grass and trees so it makes sense to give them an orderly view of those things.

I could build the same sort of house, Big, Self-cleaning, add the fun of a game, and give them some orderly green.

What was slowly becoming clear was that Edgar’s development and my development were maybe a bit too close to each other, and the mall might not be enough of a division when it was finished after all.

Different types of people, you see. Edgar’s cheap houses were bought by poor people, rowdy people, nice simple people of the sort I belong to but stupider. And the people buying my houses were people like you. Already before everything was finished, people in my houses hated having to look at the people in Edgar’s houses: they found their mailboxes on fire sometimes, beer bottles in their yards that could only have come from the people over there. It wasn’t such a serious problem yet (it never became one actually), but I thought it might turn into one.

The golf-course idea, if I could secure the land, would avoid that sort of problem. The land I wanted came off the back of my phase
five. I had already indicated to the Government, to Schutz, that I wanted it, and some of the angel demons were willing to put some money into it.

Imagine: a vast area of pure McGuinty forming a broad crescent around this golf course. The airport was nearby: planes could fly over and make the golfers feel even wealthier, at the center of an International Destination. (Not that my houses would be under the flight path.)

Fantastic.

T
HERE WAS THIS OTHER
problem that the doctor mentioned, “something else, possibly a concern.” While he was checking out Kathleen, making sure she was OK, he found that there was something wrong with her liver. Some test or something.

I tried to tell Jerry about it when she was still in the hospital. I said, “I think it’s bullshit, my friend, but Mummy might have something wrong with her liver.” I don’t know where the liver is but I gave Jerry a little chop with my fingers in his side. “In her liver,” I said, chop, and made him giggle despite himself.

I figured it
was
bullshit. This doctor, you know. Doctors. I’m happy for them to buy my houses but I have no respect for people who look up people’s asses all day and then behave like the view up their own is delicious.