One particular Saturday afternoon:
Even Sissy was around. Marc was going to bring Sammi over, but he had an argument with her on the phone. Cudd was laid out in front of the TV without a shirt on. It was one of those bright, clear days where you stay inside and don’t have to think too much, or do too much.
Marc had a beer cracked. I didn’t, nor did Sean… I noticed Sean only drink at night. Marc could drink anytime. He didn't pound them or anything, not like when we’d all drink together nightwise, but he would, since Dusk had been hanging around, always have a beer by his side.
Cudd, who often wore shorts and no shirt around the house, had a stocky build, with a toned up chest, muscular from having played water polo in high school, though his middle side was slightly pudgy, his back without much definition, and he had thick legs and calves. With his now newly shaved head and newly grown goatee, he looked like a rubbery genie.
Marc sat on the couch next to Dusk, and for the first time I experienced the comfort of the Ed-couch. Ed and Sissy sat back on stools along the bar counter. David was on a chair behind the couches. Marc glanced over at Sean, and then down at Cudd. Marc pretended to pour beer onto Cudd by reaching out the can and half tilting it. Sean smiled delightfully at this notion.
“Cudd?” Marc called out, overly loud on purpose.
“What?” Cudd half groaned. His eyes were glued the television – football season.
“Did you ever think of putting your calves on a diet?”
Sean laughed out loud. Ed was grinning subtly. Sissy sighed. David lowered his head, embarrassed, silent.
Cudd didn’t say a word.
“You know,” Marc went on, Dusk’s laughter his green light to sustain, “I can help you with that. I have a video tape at home: Calves of Steel.”
Sean laughed again, though somewhat muffled this time.
Cudd turned his head, facing Marc. “The shape you’re in: you give me dieting tips?”
Now this is what Marc did, but first I’ll tell you what he didn’t do: he didn’t jab back. Instead he let out a sore belly laugh that said, “Oh man, you got me good” - and without any apparent sarcasm. It sounded genuine. But Sean and I saw right through it.
Cudd’s narrowed his eyes at Marc - his lips curved to a slight grin. When he looked back at the TV, Marc’s smile, which he held widely for Cudd, instantly vanished. It was funny how he did that. His smile was so outrageously phony from the premise that it seemed real, and his frown was so dramatically real that, upon dismissing it, it seemed phony.
I glanced over at Sean and noticed something. His face had become a bit clearer. And he seemed to be, right then, pretty serene and content…
Cudd might’ve bought in to Marc’s ruse, and perhaps felt like he’d made a good comeback. But the next few times we’d be over, he didn’t say much to Marc.
One time it was only Marc, Ed, myself, and Cudd around - Marc was being extra-nice while Cudd only acknowledged Marc’s presence… This became a sort of precedent… I noticed that whenever Dusk would come around, which was usually halfway into the night, Marc would either bag on Cudd or ignore him. But when Sean Dusk wasn’t around, Marc, to Cudd, would be quite nice… sometimes, overly so…
Cudd now had another hobby besides video games - remote controlled racecars. There was actually a place for racing them. It was a dirt filled hilly track in a building that had once been a supermarket. Business flourished. It surprised the hell out of me but that place was always replete with fanatics (middle class suburban fathers and sons). Cudd adored the whole scene. I guess he was one of the few bachelors at the R.C. RACEWAY.
One night at the Cavern, he had left his little car out, at the side of the television stand, close to where the video games had been.
“Look at that shit,” Dusk replied. Then said half facetiously. “How old is he again?”
Marc had downed around five beers already.
Cudd was in his cozy bedroom, his lair.
Marc took a couch pillow and tossed it at the car. The pillow shoved the car up against the TV stand. David, who sat passively behind the couches again, let out a worried: “Oh man,” – this accompanied by a nervous grin. And how Dusk laughed; he even clapped a few times.
“He’s gonna be pissed,” Ed replied in a dry, even tone.
“Who cares what he feels,” Sean said wryly. “He’s lucky we don’t throw it in the swimming pool…”
Besides the television, there was a long silent minute. Then, Marc got up and moved the pillow off the little car. He placed the car back (precisely) where it’d been before. Dusk sighed. Marc lay back down. He was, a minute later, sound asleep…
One of those evenings: David, Marc, and Sean were in conversation.
“Did you ever get the membership to my gym?” David asked Marc.
“No. It’s way too expensive.”
“It’s not really that bad. I couldn't afford anything that was too expensive either,” David said in a smiling, comfortable, consoling tone.
“I have no money right now. Maybe even less than that,” Marc groaned.
“Have you been running?”
“I tried once.”
“How many miles is it to McDonalds?”
That was Dusk.
“I tried jogging one morning, but my sides ached,” Marc said ignoring Sean’s quip. “I used to run six miles every day in high school during football season.”
“You just have to work back up to it,” David said neatly.
“That’s easy for you though. You’re into toning. I want to build.”
“Maybe you should stop smoking and drinking so much?”
“Jesus - are you guys married or something?”
That was Dusk.
“The thing is, David, I don’t really need to run. Pretty soon I’m gonna start lifting weights again.”
“That’s cool.”
“As soon as I get my bench press set up in my old weight lifting room I’m gonna start back up.”
“But you lift weights everyday.”
That was Dusk. Marc looked over at him.
“I do, huh?” he said, waiting for it.
“Yeah,” Sean replied. “You get out of bed, don’t you?”
David laughed at that one. Marc grinned only slightly.
“But anyway,” Marc said to David. “I’m gonna work out again soon as I get that room cleaned out.”
“Yeah, sure. That’ll be the day…”
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.