you know what I always thought was funny? That nickname we had for you back in the day—Edie. You remember that? Edie? Like the girls name.”
Edie nods vigorously and gulps down another beer.
“Yeah, that wath funny, alright. Only did hear it the one time mythelf, though. Remember that, Thathafrath? Remember what I did to Timmy Carmichael when he called me that?”
Two black eyes and one broken nose. Yes, I remembered.
“Man, I could be a real hard ath back then, couldn’t I? Mak’th me feel a little guilty when I thee Timmy thee’th days, walking around town with hith kids. He’th got two little girlth, you know that? Yeah, probably better off with girlth, guy like that. Know what I mean? Got two boyth my own thelf, but thome men aren’t meant to have thons, now are they? You gotta boy, Thathafrath?”
For the first time since we’d started talking, Son interjects.
“Hey Andrew, didn’t you tell me to cut you off at 11,” Son says, pointing at the clock on the wall behind him. “Maybe you’d better get going.”
Edie ignores Son and repeats his question to me. “Well? You gotta boy, Thathafrath?”
Edie slaps his knee and shouts, “You don’t, do you? Thee? I knew it! No offenth, Thathafrath, but you’re like Timmy in that way. Better off with girlth?”
“Andrew,” says Son from behind the bar.
“It’th kinda like … what do they call that? Thurvival of the fittetht—thomethin’ like that? You know what I’m talkin’ about? That thing where the thtrong live and the weak die.”
A fury bubbles in my chest and I say, “Careful, Edie.”
“What?” he asks, raising his arms in innocence. “What did I thay? I’m just thaying that the weak die. Hell, that ain’t nothin’ new. That’th Darwin. The weak die, Thathafrath. The weak die.”
I jump from my bar stool and throw my beer mug against the wall. “Edie, if you don’t shut the hell up I’m going to knock out that last jagged tooth you got hanging from that shithole mouth of yours.”
Edie slowly rises from his bar stool and smiles that missing-teeth smile.
“You gotta blow off thome thteam, Thathafrath? Bring it on, I’d be happy to help.”
“That’s enough,” says Son. “Sit down, both of ya.”
But it’s too late. I lunge toward Edie and hold my fist up in the same way I had that day on the basketball court. And like that day on the court, Edie stands unflinching and fearless.
“Who are you kidding, Thathafrath? We both know you ain’t gonna hit me.”
Except that this time I do hit him. And just like I promised, I knock out the last tooth in his smile.
Well, sorta.
In the million or so times I had fantasized about hitting Edie, he always falls to the floor hard, shakes his head a couple times, and then slides his jaw back and forth with one hand. He stands up slowly and walks away with a newfound respect for me. Perhaps even fear.
In reality, when I punch Edie’s mouth I knock his head hard to the right and mess up his hair a little, but that’s about it. He doesn’t fall and he doesn’t check for a broken jaw. Instead, he turns his head back toward me slowly, smiles a bloody smile and then yanks out the tooth I had managed to loosen. He examines it, shruggs, stuffs it in the front pocket of my shirt.
“Thouvenir.”
Then he hits me with a quick one-two that drops me to the floor.
As Son walks him out the door, I can hear Edie laughing and spewing out a string of lispy insults.
Later that night as I lie in bed drunk and defeated, I whisper, “Mithter Innothent,” and laugh at the unfunny thought, at the real possibility. Edie was the filthiest soul I had ever known. And though I couldn’t be sure he had killed Katie Cooper, I was more than sure of one thing.
He had it in him.
Panda Bears
Our three tables form a perfect triangle, he and she and I. Her reading, unaware of any world outside of her book. Him watching, unaware of any world outside of her. Me watching them both like two panda
Edie nods vigorously and gulps down another beer.
“Yeah, that wath funny, alright. Only did hear it the one time mythelf, though. Remember that, Thathafrath? Remember what I did to Timmy Carmichael when he called me that?”
Two black eyes and one broken nose. Yes, I remembered.
“Man, I could be a real hard ath back then, couldn’t I? Mak’th me feel a little guilty when I thee Timmy thee’th days, walking around town with hith kids. He’th got two little girlth, you know that? Yeah, probably better off with girlth, guy like that. Know what I mean? Got two boyth my own thelf, but thome men aren’t meant to have thons, now are they? You gotta boy, Thathafrath?”
For the first time since we’d started talking, Son interjects.
“Hey Andrew, didn’t you tell me to cut you off at 11,” Son says, pointing at the clock on the wall behind him. “Maybe you’d better get going.”
Edie ignores Son and repeats his question to me. “Well? You gotta boy, Thathafrath?”
Edie slaps his knee and shouts, “You don’t, do you? Thee? I knew it! No offenth, Thathafrath, but you’re like Timmy in that way. Better off with girlth?”
“Andrew,” says Son from behind the bar.
“It’th kinda like … what do they call that? Thurvival of the fittetht—thomethin’ like that? You know what I’m talkin’ about? That thing where the thtrong live and the weak die.”
A fury bubbles in my chest and I say, “Careful, Edie.”
“What?” he asks, raising his arms in innocence. “What did I thay? I’m just thaying that the weak die. Hell, that ain’t nothin’ new. That’th Darwin. The weak die, Thathafrath. The weak die.”
I jump from my bar stool and throw my beer mug against the wall. “Edie, if you don’t shut the hell up I’m going to knock out that last jagged tooth you got hanging from that shithole mouth of yours.”
Edie slowly rises from his bar stool and smiles that missing-teeth smile.
“You gotta blow off thome thteam, Thathafrath? Bring it on, I’d be happy to help.”
“That’s enough,” says Son. “Sit down, both of ya.”
But it’s too late. I lunge toward Edie and hold my fist up in the same way I had that day on the basketball court. And like that day on the court, Edie stands unflinching and fearless.
“Who are you kidding, Thathafrath? We both know you ain’t gonna hit me.”
Except that this time I do hit him. And just like I promised, I knock out the last tooth in his smile.
Well, sorta.
In the million or so times I had fantasized about hitting Edie, he always falls to the floor hard, shakes his head a couple times, and then slides his jaw back and forth with one hand. He stands up slowly and walks away with a newfound respect for me. Perhaps even fear.
In reality, when I punch Edie’s mouth I knock his head hard to the right and mess up his hair a little, but that’s about it. He doesn’t fall and he doesn’t check for a broken jaw. Instead, he turns his head back toward me slowly, smiles a bloody smile and then yanks out the tooth I had managed to loosen. He examines it, shruggs, stuffs it in the front pocket of my shirt.
“Thouvenir.”
Then he hits me with a quick one-two that drops me to the floor.
As Son walks him out the door, I can hear Edie laughing and spewing out a string of lispy insults.
Later that night as I lie in bed drunk and defeated, I whisper, “Mithter Innothent,” and laugh at the unfunny thought, at the real possibility. Edie was the filthiest soul I had ever known. And though I couldn’t be sure he had killed Katie Cooper, I was more than sure of one thing.
He had it in him.
Panda Bears
Our three tables form a perfect triangle, he and she and I. Her reading, unaware of any world outside of her book. Him watching, unaware of any world outside of her. Me watching them both like two panda
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