The Carpenter (6 page)

Later that afternoon, while Lee and Bud were digging, Bud said: You were in jail, were you?

—Yeah. I was.

—A long time.

—That’s right.

Bud looked up from his shovel. He smiled.

—I knew. F-ing A. But you don’t have to talk about nothing if you don’t want to.

—I’m glad you say so.

Bud looked at him once more, then bent back to his work. It was okay. Lee liked Bud. Most of the time Bud stayed quiet. When they were on a smoke break or in the car he’d tell his jokes, or he’d talk about hockey or how he couldn’t get his wife to go to bed with him unless he gave her jewellery.

The dirt they were digging was heavy from the rain. There were roots they had to carve through, and in places the soil over the bedrock was not deep. He’d drive the shovel blade down with his boot and feel it stop hard against rock.

—You been out for long? said Bud.

—Not real long. I was in the city for six months. I was on day release at a St. Leonard’s Society house. I worked in a shop that built office furniture.

—And you’re back up here in town for your ma? She’s sick?

—She’s got lung cancer.

—That’s an f-ing drag. Same as that kid.

—Kid?

—That one-legged kid who tried to run across the country, Terry Fox.

—Oh yeah, said Lee. I heard of him.

—They say he’s got tumours this big.

Bud made circles with his thumbs and forefingers and put them on his chest.

—Can you imagine that?

—No, said Lee. I see what’s happening to my ma and I can’t imagine nothing.

—Me neither. Hey, it’s three o’clock. Let’s have a smoke.

That evening Peter came by to bring Lee some leftovers Donna had sent. When Lee told him he was going on a date, Pete stayed to help him dress for it.

—You don’t have anything other than jeans?

—No. I was at Woolworths on Saturday to get some new clothes. What you see in the closet. But I didn’t think to buy nothing fancy.

Lee stood in his bathroom with the door open. He was wearing his undershorts and undershirt and he was shaving. Aqua Velva hung in the air. Pete selected a clean pair of jeans and a collared shirt and laid the clothes on the armrest of the couch.

—So who is she? said Pete.

Lee came out of the bathroom, patting his face with a towel.

—Her name’s Helen. She works at the Owl Café. I see her most days when I go for breakfast. I’m taking her to the Italian joint up near the town hall.

—The town hall?

—The library. Used to be the town hall. I keep forgetting how they went and changed everything around. Anyhow, the Italian joint.

—Aldo’s.

—That’s the one.

Pete looked at the clothes again.

—Okay, well, I think you’ll be good in these. We’re not in Paris or anything.

Lee started to dress. He lit a cigarette.

—Do you smoke?

—No, said Pete. I never really took to it.

—Fair enough … You look like you got something on your mind, Pete.

—I was wondering something. But I don’t know how to ask it.

—Why don’t you just ask it straight? You don’t have to talk careful around me.

—Well, have you ever really had a girlfriend before?

—What makes you think I don’t have hundreds of girlfriends all over the place?

—I guess—

—Relax. I’m just hassling you. It’s a pretty fair question, a guy like me who’s been locked up forever. When I was a young buck there was a girl in town I went with pretty regular. We might of got more serious if I never went up. Then there was a lady who wrote me letters for awhile, maybe six, seven years ago. A church group put us in touch and for awhile she wrote to talk about God.

Lee was grinning.

—What happened with her? said Pete.

—I guess you’re not so young I can’t say this—this lady wrote to me about God at first, and then she started sending me snapshots of herself in her underpants. She was a big gal. She was a big big gal. She sent me these kinds of sexy snapshots for awhile, and then she stopped.

—Just like that?

—Just like that. It was another couple months before I heard from her again. It wasn’t real surprising. She’d met a guy and she said she felt like God wanted them to get married. So that’s what they did. I don’t hold nothing against her.

—You didn’t see anybody when you were living in the city?

—I was conditional in the city. I had to go back to the house every night. But there was a girl I’d go see sometimes, at lunch or maybe in the afternoon … Anyhow, that was kind of a business deal. You know?

—For sure.

Lee buckled his belt and said: How about you? Are you Sylvester the Cat?

—Not really. There was one I just met. She was pretty interesting. She goes to another high school, so I didn’t know her before I quit. She plays the piano.

—Go show her a good time.

—It’s not like that. She’s … a friend. Maybe. That’s what I think it is. It’s not a problem. I’m not sticking around here much longer anyway.

Lee went back into the bathroom and ran a comb through his hair. He slapped on some more of the Aqua Velva.

—Think I look okay?

—Sure you do, said Pete. I’ll give you a ride up.

—You don’t need to do that.

—I don’t mind. I like driving. I’m cut out for a long road trip.

Outside, the clouds had dissolved and there was a bright quarter-moon some distance above the horizon. They got into Pete’s car and drove up to the restaurant. Not far away, up River Street, the limestone face of the library was lit by floodlights on the lawn. This was new. Across the street, Lee could see where his father’s general store used to be. It looked like it had been turned into a place that sold household appliances.

—See that place? said Lee.

—What, the place where they have the washing machines in the window?

—Yeah. That was the place where your granddad used to have his store. Right there. I remember sweeping up and mopping the floor when I was a little kid.

—Grandma doesn’t ever talk about him, said Pete.

—No, he’s been dead a long time. Most of my life. He worked way too hard, was his problem. Now look at what they got there. Washing machines and vacuum cleaners and TVs. I’ll tell you what, Pete. One of these days I’m going to walk in there and buy myself a TV.

—I thought you didn’t like TV, said Pete.

—I don’t. But I sure as hell like the idea of being able to walk into a store and buy one. One of these days. Hey, I’ll see you soon, buck.

Lee got out of the car.

—Lee …, said Pete.

Pete was holding something out. Lee looked more closely and saw that it was forty dollars.

—What’s this?

—I figured you might not have a credit card and maybe you don’t have a lot of cash on you. This isn’t the cheapest place.

—I don’t need your money, Pete.

—It’s, like, a loan. Pay me back later. It’s no problem.

Lee set his teeth together, shifted them side to side. But he lifted his hand and took the kid’s money.

Helen was already inside the restaurant, sitting at the bar, having a cigarette. She was wearing a dark jacket, a short skirt. She smiled as Lee walked up to her. Her lips were painted vivid red and her hair was puffed up big.

—It’s the lady who’s supposed to be fashionably late.

—You’re right, said Lee. Goddammit. I’m sorry.

She laughed and tapped ash off her cigarette. He looked at how her legs showed in the skirt.

—Don’t worry about it, Brown Eyes. Let’s sit.

They took a table by the window. The interior of the restaurant was candlelit and only a few of the tables were occupied. A steward came to show them the wine list and to ask them about drinks.

—I’ll have a Tom Collins, said Helen.

—For yourself, sir?

—Do you have Coca-Cola? said Lee.

—Yes, sir. We have Coca-Cola.

—That’s what I’d like, boss.

The steward left them.

—I quit drinking, said Lee.

—So, you have some self-discipline, said Helen.

—Maybe I just wouldn’t know what kind of fancy drink you’d get here.

—Never mind these guys. It’s all for show. I’m sure I saw that same waiter at the mall in a pair of sweatpants.

They studied their menus. She made quiet hmms of consideration. Finally Lee put the menu down and pushed it away.

—What’re you smiling at?

—Nothing, said Lee.

—Tell me.

He felt something brush against his ankle. It took him a moment to conclude that it had been her foot.

—Well, I think I’m in over my head. This is a nice place. But I don’t know what the hell any of this stuff is.

She laughed loudly. She leaned over the tablecloth and touched his hand and said: You’re an interesting one, Lee.

When the waiter came, Lee figured he’d follow Helen’s lead. She opted for the prix fixe—a salad to start, a baked pasta with bacon and mushrooms for the main course, a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. The sequence seemed elaborate. Lee couldn’t predict what would happen if he asked for a cheeseburger or a fried steak. Helen looked across at him and told him he might like the ravioli. He told the waiter he’d have the ravioli.

—Everybody likes ravioli.

—I was twenty-five the first time I ever ate spaghetti, said Lee.

They had some cigarettes. She finished her drink and was moving the ice in the glass.

—Tell me about you, Brown Eyes. What do you do after I see you for breakie every morning?

—I’m a tradesman. Carpentry. Windows, doors. Cabinets. Joining. You name it.

—But you haven’t been doing that real long, have you? At least not here in town.

—What makes you say that?

—You’ve got a certain aura around you, said Helen. I’m good at sensing these things. I’m real spiritual. It’s what you get with a Pisces like me.

—Well, okay. But what about you? You got a story outside the café?

—Oh my. I’m just an old soul, Brown Eyes. I just keep on keeping on.

She laughed again.

Her salad came and she ordered another drink. Lee went to the washroom. It occurred to him that she might be gone by the time he returned, that certain truths were evident no matter what, and that she need only to wait for an opportunity to slip out undetected. But she was still there when he came back, and he started to feel good.

They were into their suppers. He liked the ravioli and he liked the way she was smiling. She talked in a rambling fashion and came round eventually to where she’d started out, which was a mid-sized town in the south part of the province. She’d done a year or two of college, had quit to travel with some Hare Krishnas, and had at last ended up back in the big city. Where the action was, the city.

—The city, said Lee. Yeah. I lived there for awhile too. Right up till the end of the summer. That’s a hell of a place. All kinds of action. Sirens all night long. I never thought of myself as ending up there, but I guess it’s funny how it goes. Where you end up. Anyhow, if you were down there, how’d you end up here?

—Oh, the way karma plans things for you, you know.

She’d had four drinks by the time the dessert arrived. Her face was flushed. She carved a piece of cake and offered it to him on her fork. The waiter brought the bill and it ate up all the money Peter had loaned Lee and five dollars from his wallet besides.

—Where to now, Brown-Eyed Lee?

—I don’t know. We could get a cup of coffee.

—Or you could show me where you live.

—Sure.

—You don’t sound sure.

—I am sure, said Lee.

—I know. But you don’t have a car.

—No …

She stood up from the table, weaving a little, and told the waiter to call them a taxi. Then she took Lee’s arm and led him out of the restaurant. The sidewalk outside was quiet. She put a cigarette in her mouth and Lee lit it for her.

—You were in prison, weren’t you, said Helen. You were a jailbirdie.

—How did you know?

—It’s your aura. It’s strong. I like it. Are you strong?

He smiled, still feeling good, and he rubbed at a spot on the pavement with the toe of his boot. He said: Am I strong? I don’t know. I guess I’m no slouch.

A taxi came. The same cabbie who’d driven Lee out to Donna’s house was behind the wheel. He ogled Helen. Lee told the cabbie where his place was. Helen pulled him into the back of the car and sat as close to him as she could. He could feel her nails on his thigh through his jeans. He put his arm around her and touched the big shape of her hair. She bit his ear and grinned.

When they got out at the variety store she came right out and asked him. He laughed.

—You don’t ask anybody what they did, said Lee. You just ask them how long they’re in for.

—Why is that?

—Because. It’s just how it is. Most guys didn’t do it, right? Like, they’ll run their mouths about a lot of other things they did, or things they could do, but whatever they’re in for, they didn’t do that.

—So how long were you in for?

—Twenty years was what I was supposed to do. I got out conditional after seventeen.

—And? Did you not do whatever they said you did?

—No, said Lee. I did exactly what they said I did. But that was a long time ago.

Upstairs in his apartment, he told her he didn’t have a drink to offer her.

—That’s fine. I’m going to powder my nose.

—Say what?

—I’m going to use your washroom, Brown Eyes.

She was in there for a minute and she came out smelling strongly of perfume and she was on him quickly. She pushed him down and lowered herself onto his lap. The short skirt was bunched up and he had his hands on her big thighs and on the elastic of her underpants. She pushed her tongue into his ear.

—Let’s see. Let’s see just how strong you are.

He tore at the blouse she was wearing and then turned her against the couch and took her.

Afterwards, they lay together on the pullout. She lifted one leg up and flexed the toes.

—Oh my oh my.

He considered what he could see of the ceiling. He lit two cigarettes, gave her one.

—In the city you lived downtown, said Helen.