“All forms of madness, bizarre habits, awkwardness in society, general clumsiness, are justified in the person who creates good art.”― Roman Payne
Malcolm thought he would take a detour around the city as he rode his Pale Sierra in the brightness of noon. Despite a one-year-old Connor’s carriage being reversed toward the passenger seat, he silently gasped in awe at the sights passing by his window. Malcolm was at a red light in the French Quarter as he stared at his child. The boy’s hair was coming through finally, and for being as black as Malcolm’s, it was already coarser. He refused his binkie, always choosing to take it out, and Malcolm feared for his tongue should he get into a wreck. He deliberately placed a ‘Baby on Board’ vanity sticker and kept in sync with the speed limit. Turning right, Malcolm accelerated home, deciding that the milk might spoil if he wasted too much time.
Malcolm had not been catching up with current events as he should have been, he had tuned in to the local news stations. It was hard to find a non-biased outlet in April Twenty-Fifteen, especially in Louisiana. But Malcolm had succeeded in finding a decent reporter. Most of it was dull nonsense: Ebola ravages West Africa. Obama takes questions during Press Briefing. Possible withdrawal from Afghanistan. Disney Pixar’s latest hit, Inside Out, smashes the box office. Hundreds were injured in the Amtrak train crash in Philadelphia. Local safety guidelines regarding the ‘Nightcrawler Killings’ remain in place, despite no new cases. France braces for copy-cat terrorist acts following the Charlie Hebdo incident. A general heat advisory. A new ‘miracle’ drug for AIDS possibly in the works. Black kid gets shot by police. Opioid Addiction skyrockets. Tom Brady, who won at the Super Bowl, plans to go on until he’s forty-five. “Les Misérables”, with an all-black cast, opens at the Saenger Theatre…
A red light finally caught him, halting his stride. He stopped behind three cars and slapped the steering wheel. He enjoyed the adrenaline wherever he could get it and he knew just what would maintain the rush while he waited for this light. He switched to the CD player, and the same Green Day CD picked up where it left off. As the rhythm kicked off, Malcolm looked to see his child, with no comprehension, bobbing his head along with his father:
“…She said I can’t take this place…
…I’m leaving you behind...
…she said I can’t this town…
…I’m leaving you tonight…”
And Malcolm hit the reverse button, starting the album from its beginning as soon as the light turned green. He proceeded to cut his way through the open spaces once traffic picked up. He realized that Connor could be by himself if he had to pick up his delivery personally. Scared to look at his phone while driving, he used his wireless receiver to dial one of his favorite numbers. “Call Javier.”
It rang a few times before the battle-buddy picked up. “What’s going on Holmes?”
“Hey man!” Malcolm said. “What are you doing?”
Javier chimed. “Chilling…Probably jacking later.”
“Real professional.” Malcolm pursed his lips.
“Well my Rosie ain’t here tonight so…”
“Could you come over?” Malcolm interrupted. “I may need your help.”
Javier considered. “I don’t have a problem with it, but why?”
“I may have to go out later and I shouldn’t bring Connor. Could you watch him for me?”
“He ain’t gonna remember.” He said. “What are you hiding?”
Malcolm emphasized. “My anniversary gift.”
Javier paused. “Is there a reason I can’t know?”
“Odds are, you will know.”
“Eh, I’ll be there soon.”
“Thanks bro.” When Malcolm hung the phone up, he was already exiting the city limits and the suburbs themselves were a short distance away. In a matter of seven minutes, Malcolm blared his CD collection to set Connor right and would be pulling into the cul-de-sac in the middle of ‘Jesus of Suburbia’. The time hit twelve thirty-four as he stopped in his driveway. Once more, he stared over at his child.
“I bet your hungry, aren’t you buddy?” Malcolm’s grin was wide and open.
All the boy said was, “Dada.”
“Yes, I am…” Malcolm unbuckled his seatbelt, stepped out of his Sierra, and he shut the front door with Connor. Malcolm crossed the house to the kitchen, setting the groceries on the counter and Connor on the island.
Malcolm maintained the same grin as he leaned into the carriage. Little Connor bobbed his head and made a happy coo. “I know what that means!”
He poured through the groceries for the cranberry juice and nutrient solutions. But all he could find in the bags were the Coconut Waters, Milk, and ground meats for future dinners. “Wait here buddy.”
It was a one-trip process to cross through the garage and carry the rest of the groceries. He waddled inside with both arms sleeved in bags. There were grapefruits, apples, bananas for potassium and a watermelon. Off-brand cereals, much cheaper. Vegetables: Celery, Potatoes for bonus carbs and potassium, carrots and salads. A loaf of bread, Breakfast Burritos, morning protein solutions, eggs, and vanilla ice cream for dessert. Champagne for the end of the night.
As mostly everything was put up, Malcolm prepared the nutrient milk in Connor’s sippy cup. As he drank heavily, Malcolm held the various fruits for him to choose from, he would nod at one of the grapefruits.
Loves bitter tastes this one. Meryl says he’s already weird.
Malcolm pulled out the cutting board and set the grapefruit. He drew a prime-silver blade, with a serrated and curved edge. Carefully, he slit the grapefruit at both ends and peeled the skin off. With the top and bottom wide open, he set the grapefruit upright and made eight delicate slices around it from the top to the bottom. He was then able to flay the skin by peeling with his bare fingers.
The grapefruit was diced, and the juices would be splattered around the kitchen cutting board. Soon the juices would be slobbering down Connor’s chin as he devoured them like a primitive hominid. Malcolm may have already had a protein drink today but there would be no workout today or yesterday, so he opted for another one. He finished in short order and was prepared to watch TV with his son shortly before the doorbell rang.
He sprinted to the front door and opened it to see none other than Javier. He was wearing the same shaved head and a Metallica tank top, matched with blue jeans and boots. They exchanged a locked arm shake and pulled into each other’s shoulders. “It’s been too long, Holmes.”
Malcolm was flabbergasted. “It’s been two days!”
“Which is too long, my friend.” He waved at the house. “You gonna let me in?”
Malcolm almost gasped. “Shit! I’m being rude, I trust you got the door.”
Javier shut the door behind him and followed Malcolm into the living room, where Connor crawled onto the arm of the couch to greet them with a smiling coo.
“See?” Malcolm assured. “He knows his godfather.”
“Dada!” The child cooed.
“He still ain’t speaking yet?” Javier crossed his arms.
Malcolm scratched his head. “Well, the doctor’s say it’s not abnormal for toddlers to speak late. Meryl’s concerned…but…”
Javier punched Malcolm’s shoulder. “Kid’s got good genes.”
“…I hope so…” Malcolm pondered.
“Between your brain and Meryl’s looks. He’s a shoe in at life…” Javier pretended to wince. “Uh, come to think of it, he’s already starting to look like you. Maybe not.”
“Fuck you!” Malcolm laughed back. “I got beer by the way.”
“Well don’t mind if I do!”
Malcolm led him to the kitchen. “Tolerance good enough?”
“Why? Am I staying the night?”
“And get in the way of coitus with my wife?” Malcolm whispered as he opened the fridge. “I don’t think so.”
“I ain’t a peep.” Javier shrugged. “Kenneth on the other hand-“
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“I’d geld him and make him eat it.”
“Yea, for some reason, I believe that.” Javier accepted the open bottle. “Asalud!” They shared a cheer before tilting their heads up to gulp. “So, have you made a decision yet?”
“Are you marrying Rosie yet?” Malcolm deflected.
Javier pointed with the beer in hand. “Fuck yourself if you think you get to deflect.”
“Don’t know how I feel about my kid’s godfather being unwed.” Malcolm sipped as he looked ahead, out of Javier’s periphery. “All I’m saying.” He smiled.
“Come on bro! Wouldn’t it sound great!?” Javier pretended to hold a frame. “Warrant Officer Nelson!”
Malcolm winced. “You make me sound like a pig.”
Javier guffawed. “Bro. You’re too good for this shit. Word has it that McElroy’s got political ambitions someday. You want to be close to him.”
“I already told you.” Malcolm took a dragging sip of his beer. “I want to be...heroic.”
Javier nearly coughed up beer. He shook his head as he wiped his chin in disbelief. “…Remember Rob Hamlin?”
Malcolm didn’t know where Javier was going. “From High School? Of course.”
Javier continued. “You had but one thing in common with the bastard.”
“That guy was a prick!” Malcolm boasted. “You can’t compare me!”
“…You were a pair of sad, grumpy horndogs sick of your left hand.” Javier shook his head with a smirk. “Except Rob the Rich Prick raped a poor girl and tried to kill her. Meanwhile you, of all human beings on the planet mind you, get asked out by a hot nurse and you think you need to live up to Rambo? Bro!” Javier strode over to the archway of the living room where Connor could be seen cooing variations of ‘Dada!’
Javier laughed all the while, but his message was even more serious. “I’m scared of this shit. There…I said it! You know the Motley Crue song? ‘Too Young to Fall in Love’? That’s me with Rosie right now. You? You not only worked hard at life, but it paid off…and now you’ve got a family again!”
Malcolm wanted to speak while Javier continued with his fingers on the temples. “I can’t wrap my head around this hole you’re trying to fill. I’m just a working-class sucker who was looking for something higher than myself. You could’ve gone to West Point and been set by now! And for the sake of your child, you should if you still can. Because I’m the one who’s gonna get killed out there!”
Malcolm closed his eyes. “Javi, come on.”
“No, think about it! You tried to be a marine, and the instructors told you ‘No’, you’re too smart. Ya know how close I came to flunking out? Very. McElroy wants to fast-track you; take it! God-knows that Daniels will have an internal fit but fuck him.” Javier pointed the beer at Malcolm. “Because I’ve never met another man who can tackle an obstacle course, in record time, and solve a triangular Rubix Cube.” He sipped.
Malcolm had to take a swig after that one. His mind began to dwell. “Camp Benning certainly would be a good learning experience.”
“Look…” Javier waved. “I’m not trying to give you a hard time man.”
“You good dude! I’ve been leaning towards it anyway.” Malcolm felt a ping on his phone, and he pulled it out.
“So...Could you tell me why I need to watch Connor?”
“Oh goody!” Malcolm said to himself upon reading the message.
“What?”
“Well, I’ve got a truck coming in.” Malcolm sheathed his phone as he finished his beer. “Which is…excellent! I thought I’d have to drive somewhere which would be a pain in the ass.”
“So…. I’m just here to hang out then.” Javier shrugged. “You could’ve asked that.”
“Well, I didn’t know it would be coming to my doorstep directly.” Malcolm stated. “Besides, your company is helpful.”
“Glad I could oblige?”
“I’m making dinner for Meryl,” Malcolm leaned in so he may whisper, “And I can’t leave the little bastard by himself, or he’ll swallow stuff and wander.”
“Just put him in his crib.” Javier suggested innocently.
“Naa, his sleep patterns are sporadic. If we put him to bed while he’s wide awake, he thrashes and sobs. No likey binkie that one.” Malcolm finished his beer. “This is excellent! I can have another! What’s he doing?”
Javier looked over. “Just staring at me intently…”
“Oh, he does that.” Malcolm snapped the cap off.
Javier looked back. “So, you said you’re cooking dinner for Meryl?”
“Preparing and cooking.” Malcolm answered with a raised finger.
“You can’t just…keep him on the kitchen table?” Javier asked. “I mean, I’m happy to be here, I’m just confused.”
They both paused as the sound of a truck parking outside caught their attention. Malcolm put on his best impression, “I’ll show you.”
Javier simply motioned him along.
“You mind getting Connor?” Malcolm asked as he started for the door.
“Got it chief.” Javier answered and did so. Malcolm was promptly back across the house, setting his beer down in the dining room. He stepped down the porch as the four-wheeled cargo truck had completed a three-point turn. Malcolm was immediately flanked by Javier who carried Connor in his arms.
A heavy-set man and a fifty-year-old stepped out of the truck when they set it in park. Crossing over once they spotted Malcolm, the fifty-year-old pulled out a clipboard. “Are you Mr. Nelson?”
“Yes sir.”
“We just need your final signature, and we’ll leave you to it.”
“Thank you!” Malcolm responded as he took the pen and board.
“Dude…” Javier cupped Connor’s ear. “What the fuck did you order?”
“Meryl’s present.” That was all Malcolm said. He continued to smile as he handed back the pen and board. The heavy-set man proceeded to lift open the cargo hatch and lower its ramp. Grass was strewn about the floor with a single chain to the wall connecting the collar of the adult lamb. The heavy-set man entered the hold and undid the chain to the wall, then, he handed it over to Malcolm. With the Lamb’s chain in hand, it dumbly munched on a final batch of grass. Malcolm pulled it away and the men entered the truck to drive off. There Malcolm stood, waving goodbye in a demand for attention. They finally honked as they pulled out of the cul-de-sac.
Javier stood behind him with a near-open jaw as Little Connor sucked his thumb. Malcolm briefly petted the Lamb and motioned for it to follow. With crossed eyes, it tried to munch on Malcolm’s lawn. Then, he noticed Javier’s astonishment, “What?”
“What is this?”
“A Lamb.” Malcolm was sincere.
Javier nodded. “I see that bro. I thought Meryl loved dogs…”
Malcolm laughed. “Oh, she does! But I got a bad history with them; you know that.”
“So, you bought her a Lamb instead?”
“You think it’s a pet?” Malcolm laughed harder. “Oh, dear me, no! We already agreed to a kitty cat.”
“So, may I ask again what this is?” Javier repeated.
“It’s step two.” Malcolm answered. “Placing the order was step one.”
“And how’d you do that?” Javier asked as Malcolm brought him into the garage.
“I found some ranching company out in the Himalayas. This one is retarded so it wasn’t very useful to them. They were gonna just kill it, but I got it for dirt cheap. However, I paid a surcharge to get it shipped on time…so I didn’t save any money.” Malcolm closed the garage door.
Javier’s bewilderment continued. “What’s step three…And how many steps are there?”
“Could you hold this while I open the safe?” Malcolm handed Javier the chain. He then crossed the other end of the garage, withdrawing two rolls of saran wrap and he began to unfurl them. He then brought it to the center of the garage, making a perfect square around the central drain. Before Malcolm pressed on with his current task. He diverted attention back to the safe; he brought out a chain hook and he then attached it to the ceiling’s garage door opener. After detaching the sliding mechanism from the door, Malcolm had a means to suspend anything he wanted. Even Connor was beginning to take notice, and Malcolm continued laying his saran wrap on both knees.
“Uh…bro?” Javier said.
“Sorry! Meryl gets off work sometime after the evening, so if I want this ready, I got to start preparing dinner now.” Malcolm answered as he sent the roll of saran across the room.
Javier’s chin dropped again. “This is to cook her a fresh meal?”
“The freshest!” Malcolm smiled. “With a foreign twist. She loves Indian food so I looked up the recipe for curry, but I can Sautee the legs with the blood and a dash of Jack. The organs and bones can be used to flavor a stew. You’d be surprised how creative I can get! I gotta discard the brain though; don’t want Meryl and the boy getting a prion disease.”
“...Dude…”
“What?”
“Have you even worked at a butcher shop?”
Malcolm bulged his eyes. “Of course not!”
“…Doesn’t Meryl have a problem with the conditions of slaughterhouses?”
Malcolm winced. “What? She still eats steak. Medium rare too!”
“So, you didn’t just order curated meats?”
Malcolm paused. “A woman like HER deserves a cut dinner. Besides, since our unit has been rotated home, I’m a stay-at-home husband these days. Culinary arts are interesting anyway, and if I go the extra mile, I can better control the result.” He began to drape the walls with wrap. “Problem is, I don’t know how long this is going to take me, I can’t put the boy to bed yet, and trust me, he can walk. So please don’t let him bump into things.”
Javier stared at Connor, who blankly stared at his dad. “Uh.”
Malcolm grabbed his shoulder. “Javi, what’s mine is yours. It means a lot that you put up with my bullshit. Now, I got to get this going.” Malcolm came over to take the chain. “Make yourself at home, put your feet up, watch TV, have some food… I’ll try to make this quick and we can bro down afterward.”
Javier crossed the kitchen and to the living room, continuously looking back at the door with a blank expression. He put little Connor on the couch and grabbed the remote. Javier was picking up on a gruesome scene in ‘American Psycho’. Prompting him to hit the mute button while shielding Connor’s eyes. Javier hit the guide button and the channel menu blocked the carnage. Taking his hand off Connor’s eyes, Javier began to scroll down through the movie networks for anything that was both good and appropriate for a one-year-old. He looked back when he heard Malcolm enter the kitchen again. However, he gave Javier no mind and disappeared. It was not long before he could hear the footsteps returning. When Javier saw Malcolm again, he carried a bundled roll of leather under his right pit. He was about to step back into the garage when Javier asked, “Does your ‘On Demand’ work?”
“Oh certainly!”
“Perfect. Thanks.” Javier responded. He thought quickly that he ought to check the children’s programming before he put on his cop drama. Sure enough, Malcolm had bookmarked several nineties children’s shows they grew up with.
Javier had started an old Batman cartoon; from the inside of the garage, Javier could hear the beast’s sudden cry descend into a gurgle and his mind tricked him into thinking he could hear the drizzle. Javier could tell that Connor had not even taken notice of the cry. He crossed one leg and tussled the boy’s black hair.