Part 20 (1/2)
We guzzled the milk supply. Finally I was feeling lucid and in good spirits. ”Nothing like having your elevenses at sundown.”
”Couldn't agree with you more, Ray.”
I touched my head. ”Christ, I'm still wearing this f.u.c.king Gumby hat.”
”I didn't want to editorialize on your style, Ray, but yes, you are.”
I removed the Gumby hat and shook it back into the T-s.h.i.+rt it was. Neal stared at it, his eyes goggling as would those of a kitten shown dangling yarn for the first time.
”Ray! That's a Cure T-s.h.i.+rt!”
”Yes, I guess it is.”
”Where did you get it?”
”It was in the f.u.c.k hut.”
”I must have that s.h.i.+rt.”
Ahhhhh, how interesting to have something Neal really wanted. ”No, Neal, no. You can't have this s.h.i.+rt, because it is mine.” I slipped it on for emphasis, and also to cover my sunburned abdomen.
”The Cure changed my life. I remember that s.h.i.+rt. I almost bought one at their July 1993 outdoor concert in Finsbury Park. It's been one of the great regrets of my life that I didn't buy it. And now, decades later, fate has given me another chance.”
”Fate has done no such thing. This is my Cure T-s.h.i.+rt, and you can't have it.”
”I remember the complete song list that day: 's.h.i.+ver and Shake'; 'Shake Dog Shake'; 'One Hundred Years'; 'Just Like Heaven'; 'Push'; 'Fascination Street'; 'Open'; 'High'; 'From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea'; 'Disintegration'; and 'End.' ”
”Fascinating.”
”The encore was 'Friday I'm in Love'; 'Three Imaginary Boys'; 'It's Not You'; 'Boys Don't Cry'; 'Fire in Cairo'; and 'A Forest.' ”
”Neal, your nostalgia is not going to get you this s.h.i.+rt.”
”What will get me the s.h.i.+rt?”
Hmmm ... brainwave.
”Neal, I want you to s.h.a.g LACEY. That way I can take the moral high road and dump her for cheating on me.”
”I don't know, Ray. LACEY's technically s.h.a.ggable, but it's just hard to see pictures of her and me together in my head. And I mean, she's also just emerged from an epic f.u.c.kfest with you. She's likely worn out.”
I reached down and rubbed my stomach. ”My, this s.h.i.+rt is in amazing condition considering it's two decades old. It's vintage, not a reproduction. It was probably left here by some Kiwi missionary with retro musical taste and a hankering for life's finer things.”
Neal's lips quivered. ”Okay, Ray, I'll s.h.a.g her.”
”Good. I'm glad you've come to your senses.”
”Now give me the s.h.i.+rt, please.”
”Not until the deed is done. And there's one more thing.”
Neal's eyes became cold slits. ”Yes?”
”I want that piece of red plastic that was hanging from the outdoor eaves back at the grocery store.”
”You f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d!”
”So I'm a f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Big f.u.c.king deal.”
Suddenly Neal had me face-mushed-down on the kitchen's rattan mat, twisting my arms behind my back.
”You f.u.c.king pig!” I yelled. ”Let go of me now or I'll bleed all over your precious s.h.i.+rt. I've been known to trigger nosebleeds by willpower alone.”
”I agreed to s.h.a.g LACEY, but no, Raymond Gunt got greedy.”
”f.u.c.k off and die, Neal. My price is my price.”
There was a noise in a back hallway, and when Neal turned to see what it was, he gave me enough room to wiggle free and grab a white plastic trash vortex chair. I whacked him in the face, making his nose fountain with blood.
”I'll f.u.c.king kill you, Gunt.”
”No, you won't, Neal, because if you get blood on this garment, it's officially not collectible anymore, and neither you nor n.o.body else will ever want it.”
Checkmate.
I stepped back. ”Now hand me that piece of red plastic and I will hand you your T-s.h.i.+rt. I won't even make you f.u.c.k LACEY first.”
”You are a cruel bargainer, Raymond Gunt.”
”Just p.i.s.s off and give me the plastic.”
I removed the s.h.i.+rt while gazing into a salt-crusted old mirror that sat beside the room's princ.i.p.al decoration: an orange and black NO SMOKING sign. I was as red all over as a Halloween devil.
That was when we heard shrieks coming from outside. Neal and I forgot our trade transaction and went to look. A collection of villagers had circled the hotel, armed with baseball bats, car antennas, coconuts and coral chunks. A woman wailed, ”Vakubati! Vakubati!”
I stormed out to confront them. ”Now just one f.u.c.king minute!” I yelled. ”You have some nerve to try to blame me for the problems of this wretched f.u.c.king world.”
They chanted: ”Vakubati, take your dreadful f.u.c.kpeople and leave our gracious islands now!”
”You have got to be kidding.”
From behind the angry villagers, I saw two more forms of wrath incarnate emerge: Fiona, dressed as if for tea at Wimbledon, and LACEY, still dishevelled after hours of G.o.d only knows what unspeakable things we'd done together.
Fiona shouted, ”Thanks a f.u.c.king lot, Raymond! We finally get to visit Eden, and you get us all kicked out!”
”I did no such thing. These doughy-ankled lagoon rats are living in some ancient era before science or rationality.”