SHANE OBSCURE CHAPTER 30

 30. 

   Marc had cleared out his exercise room that had been a nostalgic mess only a month before. I was amazed. 

  There was a bench press, and barbells and weights, posters pined up along the walls, and a radio in the corner. He had pictures up too, photos of himself in high school in his popular days. 

  I don’t think Sean particularly wanted to go to Marc’s but he did anyway. A part of him desired getting in shape. Both Sean and Marc had gained weight since hanging out together, and now Marc had it planned that they’d work it off together as well. 

  I don’t exercise; I never have and probably, never will. Well I’m exaggerating a bit. I might’ve sampled exercise once or twice - but it never became a habit. So I can’t describe this workout in complete and educated detail. I don’t know what lift does what where or what’s called what exactly, I just remember that the minute Sean walked in the front door, Marc was ready to “go”. 

  During the workout, the radio pumping, Marc told Sean how to do certain lifts for the best results and then he’d demonstrate and then have Sean do it. Then Sean would either watch or spot and during his own set Marc would encourage him - and on and on. Marc knew what he was talking about. He knew the science of weight lifting. And boy, could he lift a ton. 

  Sean really started straining and moaning towards the end of the workout. Marc was too.  

   

  Afterwards we all sat in the TV room. Sean seemed flattened into the couch. It was twilight when they’d started and now it was dark out. Sean seemed satisfied relaxing with the tube on but Marc was kind of antsy. He stood in the corner with his shirt off, his enormous belly hanging down below the waist of his sweats.  

  “So we gotta do it, Sean,” he said. “Every other day we have to lift. I’ll get us on a schedule. There isn’t any other way, if you want to go all the way with working out you have to do it every single day without ever letting up.” 

  Sean, winded, nodded lethargically. 

  “And,” Marc said, “We can change our diets. We both eat way more than we have to. We have to change what we eat and the way we think about eating, so that we only eat what we have to without anything added and that’ll help as we work off the fat from our bad habits from before.” 

  “Okay, Fitness, okay,” Sean sighed. “But for now let me rest. I feel as if I lost a wrestling match with Rory Blacksmith.” 

  Marc went into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from a cupboard and filled it with water from a cooler and then walked over and opened up his medicine chest. He grabbed out his horse pills and downed it with the water. He stood in the kitchen watching the show, drinking the rest of the water, and then went into the bathroom. 

  Sean sighed, and said lowly: “He’s got me on a schedule now. That scares me.” 

  “Why’s that?” 

  “Because it’s another way of him trying to control things.” 

  “But you agreed to work out with him.” 

  “What else could I do?” 

  “You could’ve said something. That you didn’t have time – I don’t know.” 

  “I did say something. I just said the wrong something, that’s all.” 

  Marc came back into the TV room. “Let’s go have a beer,” he said. He had a t-shirt on. 

  “But we just worked out. Do you think we should drink beers after working out? I feel pretty good without it right now. It’s like… that part of my brain is weary enough to just… relax or something.” 

  Marc said, shaking his head: “After a great workout, you have to top it off with a beer. I think we deserve a beer after the workout we had tonight.” 

  “So after all we did, you want to go out and get drunk?” Sean said. 

  “I didn’t say get drunk. I said have a beer.” 

  “My God,” Sean laughed. “When have we ever had ONE beer?” 

  “Well, two maybe.” 

  “How many?” 

  “Two…” 

  “Hundred?” 

  Marc laughed. Sean sighed, and lifted himself off the couch… 

 

  Surprisingly enough we didn’t go to CUES – or even COOPS – for the beers. Instead we went to a sort of glossy sports bar nearby. 

 

  We sat along the counter row and ordered our beers. Marc sat with a stiff back. Sean, beside him, wasn’t talking much. We had drank our beers as Marc talked it up with the bartender, an older lady that Marc knew from other bars in the city. She had been a bartender at the first bar he’d frequent years before, prior to CUES even, during his sophomore year in high school. It’d always amaze me how many people he knew in the city. Marc wasn’t streetwise - he was suburb-wise. We sat in the corner, not along the lengthy part of the bar counter. We sat in the little cul-de-sac of stools, four of them. Sean sat near the wall, Marc next to him. The bartender ran out of things to say, and so did Marc; there always seems to be a limited spout of bullshit in barroom chatter when there hasn’t been quite enough beers consumed. I’d been to plenty of dives hanging with Marc, and I’d noticed everybody starts out talking about something or somebody else, friends or family, and then from there on the drunker they get they’ll talk about ONLY themselves. In barrooms all roads lead to SELF TALK. Most bars are dead ends – roadblocks from barrenly lonesome self-centered avenues. I think there should be a sign out front of every bar in the world: NOT A THROUGH STREET.  

  After three beers for each of us, Marc called for shots. He and Sean had worked out so hard, had accomplished so much in that magic hour, that they, according to Marc, deserved a shot. Sean questioned it but Marc told him since they hardly go out drinking anymore, a shot was essential.   

  The shots came and we SHOT them. It was tuff on the throat but nice and warm going down. 

  Sean, his face coming out of a post-shot liquor grimace, said: “I’ll tell you one thing I don’t miss, it’s Irish whiskey… Whew, that’s tuff!” 

  “I miss hanging out,” Marc said in a strangely even tone. “I really, really do. I miss hanging out like the old days like we used to. I miss the old days and wished they weren’t behind us anymore.” 

  “Old days?” Sean said. “You make it sound like we haven’t hung out in years. It’s been a week and a half or something.” 

  “It just seems different,” Marc sighed. 

  “What seems different?” 

  “It just seems like things aren’t the way they used to be.” 

  “I don’t know, man. Thing’s seem the same to me. I just took a shot, and my insides feel like nuclear fusion. I got a beer chaser… 

   “It feels the same as it ever did, Marc,” Sean said. 

   “Even Sammi misses when we used to egg cars,” Marc said wistfully. “We were talking about that just the other day, how fun it was driving around egging people.” 

  “That was fun, I admit. But it did get old after a while.” 

  “I don’t think so.” 

  “It did for me.” 

  Marc finished his chaser beer and motioned the bartender for another. Sean now had to finish his, and he had plenty left.  

  “Everything gets old, once you get used to it,” said Marc. “But it’s still fun to hang around with friends.” 

  “My God Marc are you about to break into a beer commercial?” 

  Marc sighed. The bartender came over, placed his beer down in front of him. She asked Sean if he needed another and he shook his head no.  

  “I never said I don’t like hanging around,” Sean said. “I just got tired of driving around like we did. I felt guilty about all that after a night of it.” 

  “I don’t know,” said Marc. “I just get bummed out sometimes that things have to change. I like the way it was back when we first met. I wish those days weren’t gone. I’m just depressed, that’s all.” 

  “Depressed about what?” 

  “About hanging out. Or I mean, not hanging out – as much. And I’m sad about you and David and I not hanging out anymore. I feel like you guys have a connection or something that I don’t have.” 

  “That’s a strange thing to be bummed about.” 

  “I know, but that’s me. That’s what I think about. That’s what I feel sometimes.” 

  “Look,” Sean said. “David’s a friend, and you’re a friend, we’re all friends, but we’re different people, that’s all. And every friend has different reasons for hanging out together.” 

  “I know all that. But still, I just want to be let inside.” 

  “What’re you talking’ about?” 

  “I need to be encouraged. I think friends should encourage each other.” 

  Sean shook his head, smirked wryly. “I never did understand that word ENCOURAGEMENT.” 

  “Well you should.” 

  “It doesn’t matter to me, all that bullshit. And I have no idea why you’re talking about this stuff all of the sudden.” 

  “People should care about things like encouraging friends, don’t you think?” Marc asked. 

  “I already told you, I don’t understand that word. I think it’s an excuse – ammunition for silence.” 

  “All people need to be encouraged.” 

  “C’mon Marc, get real. Everybody’s just in it for themselves.” 

  Marc sighed through his nose. Then took a drink of the beer. He said: 

  “I just don’t want Mason Sidehill replacing me.” 

  By his bottom-line tone, seemed the catalyst for Marc’s entire diatribe thus far. 

  “That’s ridiculous,” Sean said. “Do you know how you sound right now?” 

  “I don’t think he’s a good person. I think he’s depressed inside and that he doesn’t care about anybody and that he doesn’t really care about you or David.” 

  “CARE about us?” 

  “He’s not a good person,” Marc said, while nursing his beer. “He is soulless and he doesn’t care about you guys – not like I do.”  

  “You’re losing it, dude. In fact, you’ve lost me completely.” 

  “Maybe I am, but nobody likes to feel left out, Sean.” 

  “Well, some of us don’t worry about that kind of stuff. We don’t need to always smell something to prove we have a nose.” 

  “We’re different people,” Marc said. “I’m a different kind of person than you are.” 

  “That’s right,” Sean nodded. “That’s how it’s supposed to be. We’re different people, Marc. That’s how life works.” 

  “When I get a feeling it’s always right. I got a feeling that something’s not right,” Marc said. 

  “What’s not right?” 

  “I know my feelings. When I get a feeling something’s off, I have to do something about it.” 

  “Did you ever consider that you can’t control everything?”  

  “I don’t try to control everything.” 

  “Yes you do. That’s your problem, man. You want to have all your ducks in a row. And fed bread daily.” 

  “I just don’t like to be left out,” Marc repeated. 

  “What’s with all this ‘left out’ shit? I don’t get you, man. What the hell are you talking about?” 

  “I have a gift of figuring things out.” 

  “A gift?” 

  “I can figure things out when I put my mind to it.” 

  “It doesn’t sound like you can to me.” 

  “What do you mean?” 

  “It doesn’t seem like you have anything figured out to me. You’re just trolling for information – about what, I have no idea.” 

  “I just feel like things have changed between us,” Marc said – his tone was straight ahead, stubborn. “Something is off and I can’t quite place it.” 

  “I thought you said you could figure things out?” 

  “Is there something to figure out?” 

  “I don’t know. I’m asking YOU. You’re the one with the gift, remember.” 

  “Is there a reason?” 

  “Dude. I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now.” 

  “Sammi’s been different.” 

  “Yeah? And how’s that, Marc?” 

  “I don’t know. I haven’t figured it out yet. But I will. She’s been acting strange lately and I WILL figure it out.” 

  “Strange huh?” 

  “Different.” 

  “I haven’t seen her in a while,” Sean said, his voice pale and sullen. 

  “She misses hanging out like before.” 

  “Yes, I know. You’ve mentioned that before.” 

  “She’s noticed things have changed, too.” 

  “I thought you said that SHE’S changed.” 

  “She has. She’s been acting different.” 

  “You’re not making sense.” 

  “I don’t want to lose your and David’s friendship.” 

  “There you go again with that nonsense again.” 

  “It’s just how I feel. I say out loud what I feel deep inside.” 

  Sean smirked, and said: “No you don’t.” 

  “Don’t what?” 

  “You don’t talk this way around your brother’s friends, or your old high school buddies. You act like you don’t have a worry in the world around those people.” 

  “Well I can’t be myself around them like I can you and David.” 

  “Why not? You’ve known them forever? You’ve known David and I less than a year.” 

  “It’s not the same.” 

  “Well it should be. Everything should be the same.” 

  “I don’t know. It’s just how I feel.” 

  I looked over at Sean. He looked pale as a ghost. The beer sat in front of him. His hands were folded on the table.    

  “It’s just how I feel,” Marc said. Then he grabbed out a cigarette, and offered one to Dusk. 

  “No thanks,” Sean shook his head.   

 And by his expression it seemed he didn’t want anymore of anything at all…