Chapter 41 #2
You open the freezer and pick up the Grey Groose. “Well, that’s funny because I know Dick never takes off those dog tags. And when he crashes at my house…” Oh, stop it. “He always takes my vodka on his way out. This bottle’s been here a while, Joe.”
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK and you’re at it again, stomping around like a jacked-up conspiracy fucking theorist and this is why serial killers should never take trophies.
Wait. No. I’m not a “serial killer.” I killed one dirtbag, and I forgot about his stupid necklace.
It’s not a trophy. You’re getting in my head, lecturing me like a fed-up teacher who thought being with kids would make her love kids even more, and every other word out of your mouth is Dick and how do you not get it?
He’s gone! Game over! I DID NOT CHOOSE THIS MOTHERFUCKING ADVENTURE.
My pants are too big for you, and your history is too much for me.
What would Dick do right now? He’d put you in your little fucking place.
And maybe this is like that. Maybe I have to be a dick.
“All right, Vail. There is one other thing about that night…”
You throw your head back. “Thank you.”
“The girl he was seeing, the lawyer, well, she sort of…I didn’t want to upset you.”
Girlfriend voice, like we’re comparing long crazy nights out on the town. “I don’t care…She ‘sort of’ what, Joe?”
My sophomore biology teacher’s chalkboard. KISS. Keep It Simple Stupid. “She made a pass at me. And that’s why Dick imploded.”
I’m the man. Me! You fold your arms and that’s right, baby. You better be good to me. “Huh. Before you said you didn’t know much about her but now she’s hitting on you….”
I HATE LYING. “Well, what am I gonna say? I didn’t flirt with her and she was probably just drunk but Dick broke down. And honestly I didn’t get it then, but now I do. Clearly he was carrying a torch for you. Makes sense ’cause it felt like there was more to it…you.”
You flip your hair and part of you will always be in middle school. “And why didn’t you say anything?”
BECAUSE THE NIGHT NEVER HAPPENED. “Vail, come on.”
I’m not good at lying because I’m not a fucking liar like most guys, but I get it.
You’re bitter. He had the last word. He dumped you over Instant Fucking Messenger.
You can’t tell me how good it feels to know that he got his, that the lies you told me are true.
This is teamwork. I’m fertilizing the seed you planted, building a world where you are the princess.
“Anyway, he was cratering, and I know it’s not my fault. There’s nothing you or me coulda done. Sometimes that’s how it is, and it’s awful, it’s sad, but that’s all there is.”
You touch the Grey Goose. “Maybe he was still drunk and just forgot….” Relief! “But he loved his brother…” Ugh. “And he would never, ever walk out of this place without his dog tags. His brother was everything to him.”
I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this because I really don’t like to talk shit about the dead, but there’s no way around it. Drumroll, please. This will hurt. “You didn’t know him as well as you think you did.”
“Excuse me?”
“It feels shitty to tell you, like I’m betraying him, but at the same time, you deserve to know the truth. The dog tags…they’re not real. It’s just a ‘bit.’ ”
“A ‘bit’?”
“His brother didn’t die in combat. I don’t know how to say this but…
They’re fake. It’s all fake. Some guys, not me, but yeah…
Some guys are bad.” I blew up your silly little world.
I tore down your Twin Fucking Towers. You should see him for what he is and scream and throw those dog tags out the fucking window, but you nod like it’s nothing, like I told you I got banana pudding because Magnolia was short on cupcakes. “Okay.”
OKAY?! Okay, fine. I’ll go deeper and darker.
“The worst part is he doesn’t even have a brother, let alone a dead one.
He got the ‘dog tags’ at a Top Gun–themed bar mitzvah when he was a kid.
And then his friend’s little sister mistook them for real dog tags and…
” No need to set a jealousy trap. You’re already rubbing your forehead, bowing.
“Never mind. You don’t want to know how it started because, well… You don’t want to know.”
I sit on the couch and you’re pacing again, slower now, still pressing your hand into your head like you’re trying to stop it from exploding.
He’s the asshole, not you, but that’s girls.
That’s hamsters. You blame yourselves. I’m saying all the right things—He’s not all bad…
Every girl fell for it, not just you…Hell, I fell for it—and you’re nodding and maybe that’s the closest girls ever come to apologizing.
But love is a verb. I get off my ass and walk to you.
“You okay?”
The answer is no. You jab me in the ribs and you’re a girl. I can’t hit back. I won’t hit back. My hands are up, I’m backing off as you batter me and I am back on the sofa. You jump me and straddle me and wrap the dog tags around my neck. It hurts, but love hurts. You clamp a hand over my mouth.
“You are so full of shit, Joe. Chock fucking full of it and you just…You’re a liar.”
It’s like my dad always said when my mother went to town on him: “That’s how you know she still loves ya, she’s still in the ring.
” I never thought he was right, but you yank on those dog tags and stare into my eyes like you want to slice my head open and see what’s inside, find out how far I would go for you.
Your breath is hot, moist. Come for me, baby. Bring it.
“The only man I ever loved and you took him away from me…And you…you just lie, lie, lie and you don’t get it, do you, Cusack?
Dick loved me and I loved him. He would never lie about something like a brother and I knew it.
You did kill him and you’re lying and we always came back to each other and now we can’t do that and…
” That’s the grief talking. That’s not you.
“Do you get it now? I never loved you. Ever.”
For a split second the lights go out in every corner of my body but you don’t scare me and this isn’t real.
It’s a game. I’m like a surrogate. You can’t kill him—I already did that—but you have to attack someone.
You’re in a bind. Humiliated that you wasted your heart on this asshole who fooled you with dog tags.
And that’s not the worst of it. The idea of me knowing that Dick got one over on you, one of countless other girls…
That’s why you had to go to the dark. I never loved you.
Don’t worry. I know you’re just afraid of losing me.
It’s okay, Vail. The rules of engagement couldn’t be clearer: You pretend to kill me and I pretend that you could, you know, actually fucking kill me.
I think on they call it edging?
You lick your lips and I can’t help it anymore.
This is hot. Red Hots and Pop Rocks and I am wanted, held, seen.
I rise to the occasion, and your jaw drops as you play the prudish wifey.
You say it’s disgusting that I’m turned on, but come on.
Of course I’m turned on. I am yours. Bound and gagged. Loved. Touched. Squeezed.
You slap the side of my head. “Stop fucking smiling.”
I stop fucking smiling. Game on. Here you go again.
“You are nothing to me, Joe. And if you thought killing him would change that, well…” You twist hard, turn the tags, turn the screw, and the game is…
It’s getting old. “It was never you and me. It was me and Dick and our road was meant to be a long one. That’s why I loved Serendipity, Cusack, because in the dark with you I finally understood.
Life is long. Timing is everything and that’s all you are…
a good way to pass the time. And don’t do the puppy dog poor-me eyes.
We didn’t set out to fuck with you, but when you love someone the way I love Dick, the way he loves me…
Everything has a way of bringing you closer.
Do you know how much I loved him? Do you get it yet?
You think I care about his brother or dog tags?
I loved him. I forgive him without even trying to!
Do you get that I know what’s wrong with you because it’s the same fucking thing that’s wrong with me? ”
And just like that you stop the war. You let go of the dog tags and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Your crying is even better the fiftieth time around. At long last, you released it, the invisible weight of his cruelty, his torture. You need me now, and I am here.
“I’m not mad at you, Vail. Sometimes we need to say things out loud in order to realize…
. Okay, sure, I’m human. None of that felt good.
But I know you didn’t mean it and it’s not about me and you’re right.
We are the same. Cut from the same cloth.
So I know how it feels, you try to go low…
” Even when he fucks…I never loved you…“And you and me aren’t like that…
I mean, I know you didn’t mean a word of it. We’re good.”
I’m not a doormat and I’m not hungry for abuse or whatever.
There is no logic in love, Vail. I love you, you’re it, the end.
You found me, the exterminator who killed the cockroach and yep…
I’m still here. You cross your legs and the hairs on my arms stand up a little bit.
“I got a message from him a few days before they found him. Can I…Can we talk about that?”
This is good, a little more conversation, a little less you fucking strangling me. “Of course. Do you maybe wanna order some take-out?”
You’re on your feet. Mood swing. Are you a lawyer again? I hope not. Conversations are better when both people are on the sofa. “Say, Joe. Do you like Cormac McCarthy?”
I spread my legs a little. I like where this is going. “Child of God is my favorite.”
“Cormac McCarthy was Dick’s favorite author. Did you know that?”