Happy Birthday Eternity Read online

‘Hey…’ This is my father sounding confused.

  There’s a pause.

  ‘Isn’t this great!?’ This is me still excited.

  There’s a breath.

  ‘Isn’t what great?’

  I look at Evaline. The smile is leaving my face.

  ‘Evaline is here.’ I put my hand on her shoulder.

  My parents look at each other. They look at me. My mother speaks first. ‘No she’s not.’

  There’s a nervous twisting of nervous fingers.

  19

  The way I felt when I first kissed Evaline was amazing. I had tried and failed before.

  Like most people I base my actions off of assumptions.

  Like most people: The assumptions I have are generally wrong.

  I almost gave up after the first try.

  Luckily I’m stupid.

  Luckily my brain and my body don’t get along.

  We were hanging out. We were sober. We were watching movies. It was like so many times before.

  The moon had come and gone.

  We were tired.

  My arm had brushed against hers earlier in the night. It made my spine shake.

  Her hand had brushed my leg. It made me lose my breath.

  Hour by hour we moved inch by inch.

  By morning my arm was around her.

  Our eyes were half open.

  Our cheeks brushed.

  We kissed.

  It was teeth and skin and sweat until our bodies were pressed together so hard that it became difficult to breath.

  We kissed until our lips became raw and our flesh was soaked.

  When I left it was almost noon.

  I was late for work.

  Now when I’m kissing Evaline I don’t know what to feel, because I know deep down that I’m only kissing an illusion.

  20

  Evaline has been back for a few days now. Things feel like they used to. Except for the fact that I’m without a job. Except for the fact that I don’t have any friends.

  My parents tell me to see a doctor. They’re concerned about the way I’m acting. They’re concerned about the way that I can see Evaline when she’s not really there.

  I tell them about the drugs I have taken.

  They look at me in shock.

  They don’t know how to comprehend who I am.

  There’s nothing I can say to them.

  I make an appointment.

  21

  On the way to the doctors. I’m with Evaline. On the bus.

  A man gets on. He asks if he can sit in the seat next to me. I tell him no. He looks at me with confused eyes.

  He wants Evaline’s spot.

  He’s missing an arm. It’s cut off at the elbow. He’s got a scar on his cheek. A crooked smile. Rough whiskers on a rough face.

  He looks tired and when he talks he sounds exhausted.

  He sits down in the next row back.

  I turn to him and apologize.

  He smiles and says it’s ok.

  He has a smoky smell and a smoky voice to go with his smoky eyes.

  I don’t bother to get his name.

  I’m holding hands with Evaline.

  She’s looking vaguely disgusted. She hates the bus. The smells. The sounds. The way it makes her stomach rattle when it lurches forward.

  And the one armed man watches my hand squeeze her hand. And our eyes meet. He laughs in a restrained sort of way.

  I ask him what happened to his arm.

  He tells me that not many people ask him that question.

  He tells me that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  I ask if it hurts.

  He tells me that phantom pains never go away.

  I squeeze Evaline’s hand again.

  I look over to her.

  She’s wearing a different outfit. A different hairstyle. A different smile.

  Time doesn’t make any sense.

  22

  I go to a doctor.

  He takes a picture of my brain.

  There’s something wrong with it.

  He says it’s not going to get better.

  He tells me it’s going to get worse.

  23

  Today feels like yesterday.

  I get up.

  Kiss Evaline.

  Make Breakfast.

  She wants me to start looking for work. She tells me to check the classifieds.

  I start looking through the ads. I concentrate.

  My head is throbbing. My jaw is clenched.

  There’s an incredible weight on the left side of my head. My eyes are watering. I’m squinting.

  I look around.

  Evaline’s out of focus.

  I can feel the beat of my heart, it causes a pounding in my skull. I go through the medicine cabinet but can’t find any medicine. I ask Evaline what I should do.

  She moves her mouth. Her words don’t sync up with the moment.

  ‘I don’t care about your portfolios.’

  I look at her with a confused look.

  She looks at me. She looks at me as if nothing is wrong.

  The headache leaves me as quickly as it came.

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I didn’t say anything.’

  ‘No, you said something.’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘I asked you what I should do, and you replied.’

  ‘You didn’t ask me anything.’

  ‘I was just looking for headache medicine and asked you what I should do.’

  ‘No, you were sitting there reading the classified ads.’

  It’s at this point that I feel confused.

  My palms go sweaty.

  I let the subject drop. I don’t know what else to say.

  We finish breakfast and we go for a walk.

  The pavement and fresh air are nice.

  People stare as they pass me by.

  24

  And when we sleep, we sleep like a jigsaw. We trade off breathes as if each exhale was a cue for the other persons inhale. We dance; even in our dreams.

  And when I wake I forget that she isn’t real.

  And when I wake I don’t care if she is real or not.

  And when I wake I hold her as if it were yesterday.

  25

  We’re arguing.

  ‘You need to get a job.’

  ‘I can’t.’ My voice is restrained.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I don’t know what I can do.’

  ‘Do what you did for the last one thousand years.’

  ‘No one is hiring. This isn’t a world that has new companies springing up every five seconds. We’ve gone as far as we can go.’

  ‘There has to be a job out there.’ Her voice is low.

  ‘I thought there would be. When I first lost my job, I thought I could find another one easily. I can’t. When you lose your job, you’re done for. People don’t employ you. People don’t even look at you. I might as well be dead.’

  ‘We need money. We need to get out of your parent’s place.’

  ‘I know. I don’t know what to do though. How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here? I’m half crazy as it is.’

  ‘Shut up.’

  And we pause.

  There’s a tension.

  This feels like an argument we might have had before.

  And she starts to cry.

  She feels helpless.

  I feel helpless.

  It’s like I’m suffocating underneath a frozen lake. You can see the world above you, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t get to it.

  ‘What about your other friends that lost their jobs? What are they doing?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t talk to them.’

  ‘When was the last time you talked to Franklin?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s been years.’

  She looks at me in disgust.

  ‘You’re not supposed to abandon your friends.’

  ‘I abandoned a lot o
f things.’

  ‘You need to hang out with him again.’

  26

  I’m worried about myself.

  27

  Franklin’s got a beard and a smile. He lets me know that he missed me. I let him know that I missed him. We shake hands and we sit together and we talk as if we never lost touch.

  The truth is that it is like we never lost touch. Because relatively speaking it hasn’t been that long since we’ve talked.

  I explain that I’m living with my parents.

  He laughs.

  He tells me he’s living off his savings.

  He tells me that he’s still married.

  Still cheating on his wife.

  Still acting like the same person he was ten years ago.

  Like the person he was five hundred years ago.

  Franklin hasn’t changed. Franklin doesn’t plan on changing. Franklin doesn’t necessarily need to change.

  His wife walks in the room. She wears a frown. She nods hello. She asks if we need anything to eat. We tell her no. She leaves. She goes about her business.

  I don’t know if I’ve ever even been formally introduced to her.

  ‘What brings you here anyway?’

  Franklin sounds somewhat curious.

  ‘Evaline told me I should get back in touch with you.’

  ‘Oh, she’s back?’

  ‘Well, yeah, kind of.’

  ‘Kind of?’

  I fidget. I look at the ground. I run my hand along the counter in Franklin’sFranklin’s kitchen and pause and gather my thoughts and try to figure out what I want to say.

  ‘It’s kind of complicated.’

  I don’t want to sound crazy.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Never-mind.’

  Franklin gives me a strange look. I can’t seem to make eye contact.

  ‘Are you sure everything is ok?’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘You guess?’

  ‘I really don’t think you’d understand.’

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘I’d rather not.’

  And it goes back and forth like this until we both sound defeated.

  He asks if I want to go hang out at the bar.

  I tell him yes.

  He grabs his jacket.

  We leave.

  He drives because I can’t.

  We go to the same bar we used to go to.

  We order the same drinks we used to drink.

  Our conversation plays with the same rhythm it’s always had.

  We sit with our backs to the bar. We look at the people around us. Elbows up. Chests out. Eyes wandering.

  Franklin spots a girl he wants; ‘I’d fuck her.’

  ‘I wouldn’t.’

  I get a strange look. There was a time I would have agreed. Things have changed.

  I want to go back to Evaline. I left her at my parent’s house. She was eating an apple. We were talking about old times. It was nice.

  The bar is loud and it makes my head hurt.

  We take a drink.

  We talk.

  Another drink.

  We talk.

  My head starts to spin and the lights blur together and the voices drown amongst themselves. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Evaline.

  I point.

  My words are slurred.

  ‘Hey! There’s Evaline now!’

  Franklin looks at me.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Evaline! She’s right there in the bar!’

  My finger points. My eyes are lit. I am lit.

  Franklin laughs.

  ‘You’re drunk.’

  We both laugh.

  28

  ‘How was your night out with Franklin?’

  ‘Good. I didn’t expect to see you at the bar.’

  ‘Well…’

  ‘You should let me know next time!’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Did you have a good evening at home?’

  ‘It was ok. A bit uneventful. I went to bed early.’

  ‘I know. You were sound asleep when I got home.’

  ‘I was tired.’

  ‘I don’t blame you.’

  ‘I don’t blame me either!’

  We laugh.

  ‘You looked so peaceful. You looked beautiful.’

  ‘I probably looked like a mess! I was probably drooling and snoring!’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘You flatter me.’

  ‘You deserve it.’

  We kiss. Small. Simple. Nice.

  We spend the day watching the clouds.

  We spend the evening drinking wine.

  We go to bed early. I wake up to a phone call.

  It’s Alicia.

  She saw the man with curly hair.

  29

  ‘You fucked her?’

  This is how my morning starts. Because I never bothered to talk to Evaline about the things that should matter. Because I never bothered to tell her about Alicia. It was a mistake on my part.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why would you do that? Don’t you have any consideration for other people? Do you ever even think about anyone besides yourself?’

  I’m feeling beaten. I don’t want to talk.

  ‘You were gone. I…’

  She doesn’t let me finish. She keeps yelling. Her words bounce around in my skull. I wear her anger in my stomach. I feel like I’m about to lose it.

  She stops for a moment.

  I reflect on the phone call. I don’t know how to process it. I can’t talk about it to Evaline. I don’t even know if I can talk about it with Franklin.

  She starts yelling.

  Tells me I’m a horrible human being.

  Tells me I’m a monster.

  I stand up and look her in the eyes.

  I’m unsure of what to say. And my hands rattle as if they were dancing to a nervous beat in my pockets.

  I wonder if I should say nothing at all.

  Maybe I should just walk away.

  And Evaline stands up.

  Storms out of the room and I watch her go but don’t bother following.

  Instead I leave the house.

  I need to talk to someone.

  30

  I’m on the bus.

  I’m alone.

  The gears grind and the people talk and the germs multiply.

  Sitting next to me is the man who always rides the bus.

  ‘I need some advice.’

  ‘What kind?’ Jim’s voice is deep and rich and happy. He makes me feel comfortable. He makes me feel ok.

  ‘It’s kind of odd actually.’

  ‘I’m all ears.’

  And so I start my story. I tell him about yesterday and today and how they all seem the same. I tell him about Evaline and the drugs. I tell him about my memory and her memory and my reality and everyone else’s reality.

  Then I tell him about Alicia. About the phone call I just received.

  The curly haired man. The one that was with the real Evaline. He contacted Alicia. He wants me to get in contact him. He wants me to meet him on this bus in a week.

  I don’t know what he wants.

  I tell all of this to my friend on the bus.

  He listens. He tilts his head and scrunches his face in consternation.

  I’m not sure what I want him to say. I’m not sure if there is anything for him to say. Maybe I just want an ear that is real for once.

  Maybe I just want someone who isn’t drunk or a product of my hallucinations.

  I would have gone to my parent’s, but they’re too busy living their lives to listen. So this seemed like my next best option.

  ‘Well, are you going to meet him?’

  31

  I can’t eat.

  I’m nervous.

  I can’t think.

  I want to call Alicia.

  I don’t want to get in trouble from Evaline.

  She came back, but she hasn’t spoken
to me since the fight. She looks at me with angry glances. She scowls at me with hurtful eyes.

  Her body tells me what she would never verbalize. I feel as if we’re falling apart. I feel as if I’m falling apart. I want to hold her hand. I want to be close to her. I want her to understand that the intentions of my heart and the intentions of my body are not always one and the same.

  Sometimes it’s hard to remember that love is a verb.

  32

  The week passes with a slow crawl that makes my head ache and my nervous hands shake.

  33

  It’s time for me to meet the curly haired man, so I get on the bus and ride it until my stomach feels nauseated and weak. There’s nothing better to do than to listen to the chatter of other people. Unfortunately I’m having a hard time filtering the words around me. The world sounds like a mess.

  My foot taps against the floor until a blister begins to swell.

  My nerves won’t let me go.

  She’s going to die.

  She was going to die.

  Evaline is burning down the city.

  Building by building.

  She is tearing down all that is old.

  I begin piecing things together.

  I look at my hands.

  I’m over two thousand years old.

  I’m starting to feel it.

  The bus stops.

  The man, the one with curly hair. He gets on. Our eyes meet. He walks to the back of the bus. My vision starts to go blurry. My right side goes numb. My eyes roll to the back of my head and my body starts to shake. I can feel my heartbeat in my head.

  Everything goes black like a moonless night. And while I can feel my breath escaping from my lungs, there isn’t much else that I do feel.

  When I open my eyes I’m no longer on the bus.

  When I open my eyes I’m no longer with the curly haired man.

  I’m on a couch. My old couch. I’m in my old apartment. I sit up. I look over. Evaline is walking through the door.

  Part III

  Someone once told me something profound. He told me of a saying by the Australian Aboriginals. It’s short and sweet and goes like this:

  ‘I’m surprised that you do not spin off the Earth in your loneliness.’