The pizza night table

  Joe

  Joe Garcia was slowly but surely getting the feeling that his big strong wet emotion for the person of Eugenie White wasn’t exactly reciprocated. He might have been a little desperate, asking her to stick around after their drunk one-night stand in Las Vegas, but he clearly liked her, possibly adored her. Time spent together had flown above the weather topics, summer, autumn, winter, and had quickly picked up speed to go deeper, where he had encountered her tall standing walls. That woman was keeping some fucking secrets, he was sure of it.

  What did they share in terms of personalities? A ton of things. They didn’t eat meat, for one, and they shopped local eggs and milk, to avoid the cruelty inflicted on some poor animals in intensive farming. They liked horror movies, they dreamed to go to space, they had memorized some dance moves from some famous 90’s iconic pop songs, they were into Eastern European politics. They enjoyed to walk around in silence, appreciated the weather they were no longer discussing, feeling the wind and intertwining their fingers out of mittens. Sometimes, Joe thought that perhaps he loved her, but there was always this secluded double-locked door he couldn’t open on the highly erected walls, even in the most intimate and shared moments, something she kept shut, and he felt that this thing was dark.

  But he so wished to knock it over! First of all, she was one of those people who didn’t know her own beauty. She kept dressing in some second-hand garments that made her look older than she was –they were the same age, forty years old. She didn’t know how to use conditioner on her hair and she smiled shyly, when she should have shown the world her sparkle. She was drop dead gorgeous, her face perfect, her curls unkempt but keeping her looking wild, her eyes bright, her body, a dream of curves. Joe would never argue against the fact that he could sometimes he a shallow man and succumb to traditional and nontraditional beauty. He liked women a lot, he liked to chase them and ask them out and conquer them, but he also dreamed of finding the one woman that would put a stop to that immature behavior of his.

  He had merrily accepted to cat sit for her old Terence while she made the quick trip to Scandinavia to attend the funeral of an ancient one passed, and he had imagined that the ceremony would include some bottom of a Viking ship, decorated with vines and decapitated horses and an iron sword and lit on fire in the fjord before sinking. She didn’t talk about Sweden much, or about anything, actually. Joe had hoped that one of the keys to her revealing herself more could be her cat, although the animal was hard to love, always hiding, always hissing, always just eating his food and sliding back to the shadows, lapping his water and eyeing him suspiciously, licking his paws and judging him.

  Eugenie was due back this evening, and he had prepared his best homemade vegan pizza for her, half opened a bottle of white wine. He had cleaned the house and found nothing suspicious in it. She had shared her live location on the messenger app they used to communicate and he had initially thought she was the one breaking into her own home but, presently, he was standing in front of someone totally unexpected.

  “Sir?” he asked politely –one thing about Joe was that he had etiquette, he had loads of patience, he was a teacher, like Eugenie used to be. It occurred to him that sir was a strange way to address the intruder, who was brandishing a shiny boot from the entrance with a shaky hand. He looked way younger than a sir, and haunted, and haggard.

  “Don’t sir me” the boy replied, imperceptibly sliding against the wall near the door, “you heard me, where is Eugenie”

  “If you’d let me get my phone, she shared her location with me, she’s on her way”

  That seemed to give the young man a pause, something to swallow on inside his mouth, “you must be Jeffrey” he lowered the shoe in a growl.

  “Joe, that’s my name. I’ve been cat sitting for Eugenie” As if called by some supernatural voices, Terence materialized at the threshold of Eugenie’s bedroom next to the entrance door of the apartment and ruffled his back fur against the intruder’s lower leg, “the cat seems to know you” Joe managed an envious smile. With incredulity climbing as tall as the Empire State Building, he watched Terence scratch his nose on the boy’s shoes, and he thought he was hallucinating when the sound of a purr reached his ears.

  “Are you armed?” the boy asked

  “Armed?” Joe recoiled. There was something odd about that person. His face was glistening with sweat, and his condition was tense. Why would I be armed LOL

  “Sorry I… didn’t expect anyone home”

  “You… do live here?”

  “Yes” the boy said, pushing the dropped shoe back into its rack with the tip of his own sneaker, “I’m Eugenie’s roommate”

  “She… never said anything about having a roommate”

  Some weird light shone at the bottom of the boy’s eyes, which gave Joe some chills, “well, Eugenie has a lot of secrets”

  Oh. My. God. Right? “Right?” he couldn’t help but hope to get to know more, engage in the topic, and Joe bit his lips remorsefully. He didn’t mean to gossip right away, “where are my manners I’m… sorry I… thought Eugenie lived alone, so I cooked some food for her when she gets back from her trip. Her grandmother died, you know”

  Boy glanced at him from down below, “that old witch?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “I mean oof, sorry to hear” the boy rephrased. Joe watched Eugenie’s roommate take a couple of unstable steps into the hallway, forced himself to hold his ground and not grant any passage yet, out of principle. Joe crossed his arms on his chest and the boy noticed, jerked backwards slightly, and their eyes met. Joe owed it to himself to at least gauge the person in front of him before allowing entrance into the home of the woman he was dating, and he had to protect that home, but he wasn’t sure. The boy had a wild air about him, something that felt unpredictable, jolty. He held his breath, tightened his fists.

  The boy nodded, “I’m sorry, where are my manners. I’m Barry” he presented his left hand to Joe, who usually utilized his right hand, so he switched sides and greeted Barry on his own terms, right for left, left for right. Men understood each other like that. Something definitely feisty about that Barry, but for now, he had accepted Joe as the greeter, the welcomer, the master of the house. He had introduced himself. Joe stepped aside to let him enter the kitchen and main space of the apartment.

  “What do you mean secrets?” Joe went for it, watched Barry spin in the middle of the living room, aim at the armchair next to the couch, step cautiously towards it. Joe noticed that he was glancing around, inspecting the place, perhaps searching for subtle differences between the last time he had been over and the present time. Had he occupied this space during the start of Joe and Eugenie’s romance? How often was he at home? The words sounded strange inside his brain. Why had Eugenie never mentioned she had a flatmate, why had she never been careful when they were sharing a flirt or a kiss, about someone possibly irrupting inside with their own key, therefore without warning, and catching them in the act?

  “I was just joking” Barry sniffled loudly. He wasn’t wearing a winter gear, on this extremely cold day, only dressed with an oversize black hoodie, and yet, he was sweating heavily “I was a little afraid when I saw you” For some reason, Joe found that impossible to believe.

  Isn’t that right? Joe thought, glad with himself, “I guess we both startled each other”

  “I don’t know of any secrets” Barry said in a tone that clearly said he knew a lot of secrets. He ran his left hand on the top of the armchair, along the back of the velvet, sharply looked back at Joe, “you’re Eugenie’s date or something?”

  “Yes I’ve… it’s no big deal, it can be a dinner for three, I have made a lot of food”

  “It smells really good” Barry smiled and the smile tugged at Joe’s heart. There was an honest spatter coming from that heart that derailed his suspicion, “you must be a good cook”

  Joe danced clumsily from one foot to the other foot, unsure, “I don’t want to… keep you or… invade you, I’m sorry, where in this flat are your sleeping quarters?”

  “Here” Barry tilted his head in the direction of the sofa next to the window, “it opens into a very large bed. It was an early agreement, ‘cause Eugenie goes to bed early, she didn’t want me to not have access to the living room and kitchen when”

  “I’ll clean” Joe said, realizing his mistake, “I mean if you need the space, I will”

  “NO I mean we can both wait for Eugenie. I’m glad to meet you” Peculiarly, he kept his right hand shoved in the front pocket of his ample sweatshirt.

  “Sit, have a bite”

  “Really?”

  “Of course” Joe’s voice was a little too high-pitched to his own taste, but he felt, again, peculiarly, that he was stepping into some delicate territory.

  The boy –Barry, the roommate— stumbled to a chair at the table and dropped himself in a heavy sigh, “just water would be nice for now” He grimaced and shook his head, as if he was annoyed at the chair for being there, as if he didn’t enjoy the sitting. Joe wondered if Eugenie and Barry had designated chairs, and he wondered even more: How long have they been living together as roommates?

  Running the faucet, Joe grabbed his cell phone from his belt, saw that Eugenie was still ten kilometers away. He presented Barry with a glass and slowly took position in the chair on the other side of the table, “you haven’t been here a while, it seems. I’m sorry again, if I had known”

  “It’s no problem” Barry said, and the glass was empty in the blink of an eye, “Jesus, I was thirsty”

  “Soo” Joe inhaled excitingly, Silence filled the room. He had not launched any playlists yet, waiting to see what mood Eugenie would be in at the moment of her return, to match her energy with the music. He couldn’t help but scan the boy, Barry, with avid eyes, fascinating by his presence. Not only Eugenie had a roommate but, on top of things, that guy was a weirdo. Perhaps even a junkie, or someone suffering from a mental illness, seeing the posture of his back, half hunched, half risen and stiff, moving like he had a broom up his ass, seeing his perspiration and drained face, his hollow cheeks.

  But there was also a nonchalant thing about him that he couldn’t put his finger on, something reassuring, and the mystifying impression that he had seen him before, and in a good way. Plus the fact that the cat was obviously familiar to him, Joe didn’t struggle to believe that Barry was accustomed to this place and that he must have proven himself worthy of the lodgings, but still, he couldn’t just trust the newcomer, “you uh… live here off and on?”

  Barry tensed, wet his lips, “it depends. I uh… was in a hospital for a while”

  “In the hospital?” Joe was intrigued, with a mix of boredom. People who had been in the hospital usually had long stories to narrate, where nodding sympathetically and pretending to give a damn was required. But he wondered whether that had anything to do with addiction, overdose, or rehab, or, God, forgive me for thinking this, whether the hospital in question was simply a loony bin. He couldn’t repress the question “for what, if I’m not being too curious” There was a way that this opening could lead to a path towards more stories and Eugenie-oriented details.

  “I was uh… in a shooting, in Grand Central Station. I was shot like, three times”

  “YOU WERE”

  Barry nodded, stared at the empty glass, “yes, that was terrible”

  “THE GRAND CENTRAL STATION WHICH W” Joe realised that he was almost yelling, “the station which was destroyed?” Barry nodded somberly, “like on the news like LAST WEEK?”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “It was three weeks ago” Barry specified, “ten out of ten don’t recommend”

  “You were shot where?”

  “In some stairs” Barry became dreamy with his tale, in a nightmarish way, one finger lingering on his chin, “and then I rolled down”

  “No I mean” Joe touched his face, his abdomen, his lap, the top of his skull, “where, for the love of God” he was horrified.

  “Ah I mean, in the heart, I mean, on the other side”

  “I don’t understand”

  “Where there is no heart”

  “On the right side”

  “Yes, I was shot two times in the chest like here” Barry recoiled with the memory, touched a dot under his right shoulder, which explained why he kept his hand inside his pocket, “and here also, it’s my bol… my normal working arm, you see? But it’s fine” he scratched his head, “I’m amphibious”

  “Amphibious?” That story was becoming truly insane. Joe was frozen on his seat and a little concerned, to be honest. Was that Barry individual sick in the head, or dangerous? He didn’t dare consulting his phone to check Eugenie’s location, he didn’t dare moving.

  “I can do things with both my arms”

  “Ah, ambidextrous!” Joe exclaimed, relieved that the boy didn’t actually pretend to be able to breathe under water.

  “You must be a teacher, like Eugenie” Barry smiled

  “Yes, and your job? I mean, why… were you at the train station, are you like… law enforcement or a fireman or from the railway brigade?” Joe asked. Barry stared at him blankly with the look on his face that was so well-known to educators, the one of the student who has built up a grand story but not thought of the details. “Superhero” Joe joked, and he saw Barry’s eyes shine with panic for a nanosecond, a burst of obscure light that gave him the shivers. He was not indifferent to that word.

  “I’m a… I’m a volunteer firefighter” and then he blurted: “by the way, Eugenie was there too”

  Joe’s captivated smile expanded awfully between his two ears, stretching his cheeks, digging into the skin, “excuse me” April fools, he waited for the boy to say, but no such thing came out of him.

  “Oh I thought she… would have told you”

  “Told me? You said yourself she is secretive” Joe was feeling a real shortening of his breath,“Eugenie… definitely didn’t tell me anything of the sort, how… how come, if you don’t mind me asking I mean” he watched Barry sit back and relax without an answer, kind of like, measuring the impact of his words, and Joe prayed the heartbeats exploding inside of him didn’t sound as deafening to the outside world as they were to his own senses, “I mean I don’t wish to pry or anything but, how, how, how come she was th—”

  *

  The keys jiggled into the lock of the apartment door and Joe comprehended that Eugenie was home. Barry casually wiped his nose with the back of his left sleeve, looking distracted. Joe’s head slowly turned towards the opening of the kitchen leading to the entrance corridor. “It smells SUPER GOOD here” he heard Eugenie, “oh my god I am starving” Come on, he encouraged himself, don’t show anything, you suspected that she was hiding things, it’s normal after all, after a certain age, everyone has stuff that they bury under the surface, you are just “Joe?” Eugenie called, followed by the sound of two shoes dropped messily on the wood of the floor, “how is Terence, anything new, anything I m”

  In a savage half-second, Joe faced her, although still sitting in front of Barry at the table, as she stepped into the kitchen space, one hand on the scarf still rolled around her neck, pulling it absent-mindedly, monopolized by her hunger and the delicious smell from the oven and then, she gasped and let go of the scarf like it was fire, and the red of her cheeks, from the assault of the bitter cold wind of the season outside, dissolved into a white color not so dissimilar from the paleness of Barry’s face. They endured the silence one more second on the time plane and in this awkward dimension, then Eugenie’s voice trembled, “is this a joke” she asked flatly, while quivering. Both things were possible.

  Joe tilted his head toward Barry to see if he would be of any help to his roommate, Joe’s current girlfriend, but the boy just presented her with a brisk smile, spoke softly, “happy new year I mean… sorry”

  “You came here to apologize?” Eugenie seemed scandalized.

  “No I mean, sorry about your grandma”

  To Joe’s astonishment, she didn’t react per se to the remark, but directed her accusatory stare in his direction, “Why did you invite Barry” Randomly, Joe took awareness that the early evening had transformed into night and, all of a sudden, he felt stuck, cornered. He must have been busy with thought and taken too long to respond, because Eugenie went on, “I mean say something!”

  “Darling, I didn’t invite Barry, he”

  She wasn’t listening, “you invited Barry like why”

  Why would I have thought she’d like another guy present at our dinner Joe asked himself. “No baby he lives here, he told me”

  She cringed and seemed to shrink a little bit, “he what, Barry” she closed her eyes, re opened them facing her young volunteer firefighter friend, “ah yes I understand of course you live here” the words in her mouth made it sound like she was saying that he lived here and crushed little baby chicks with the soles of his dancing shoes for a living, “aand coincidentally chose to come home on a special day for me and Joe and—”

  “Yes and I’m sorry, but you know, I don’t have a phone” Barry said

  Eugenie’s nostrils retracted, this time, with animosity “and you came through the balcony I suppose” she hiccuped on her own sentence, put a hand on her lips, which she had shaped as a heart and a pinkish color.

  “The balc—” Joe started

  She cut him off quickly enough “I mean you probably inspected the balcony, knowing you” and Barry shook his head and she pinched the bridge of her nose, chuckled horribly, “I should have known I couldn’t have nice things, I couldn’t” she inhaled sharply, “sorry! I’m just jet lagged”

  “Sweden is only one hour different on the clock” Barry positioned the empty glass of water in front of his eye like a telescope

  “Oh now you remember that I’m from Sweden and not from Spain or Switzerland or Samoa or Slovakia”

  “Slovakia” Joe heaved

  “Or Saudi Arabia” the boy giggled and the sound of his fresh and spontaneous laughter sent chills the size of watermelons up Joe’s spine. Roommates, the word flashed on the screen of his eyes, but blurry, with weird colors, like turquoise, Bordeaux, fushia. “I’ll leave” Barry said, but he didn’t move one centimeter.

  “No” Joe heard himself say, “come on” he walked to Eugenie and put his arms around her. The bones of her frame under his hands were hard as stone, or ice, “we can have this nice dinner for three and I get to know your roommate, seems you have been living together for quite a while, that’s very nice” he felt her angles harden even more, “darling it’s okay, it’s okay that you didn’t reveal all at once, everyone has things that they keep undisclosed” Inside his heart he felt a repulsion toward her which he had not expected, but there was also this sudden curiosity about everything.

  “I’m sorry” she said but, his arms embracing her and with her chin resting on his shoulder, Joe knew very well, he couldn’t repress the knowing that, inside his hug, she was looking at Barry.

  His mind didn’t go to lovers yet, no, that, he couldn’t digest, not even approach without a taste of puke basking his molars, but he did see the possibility of the classic double life plot, such as, spy, secret agent, undercover cop. Joe stepped away from Eugenie, nodded benevolently, pushed by the desire for the truth, “I’ll get the pizza”

  “I’m sorry too” Barry said

  “If you are sorry” Eugenie remarked, “just leave, I mean forgive me for being blunt but why not go back to Hobbes” Hobbes? Joe’s heart skipped a beat, “hobbeviously” Eugenie reworded, “obviously I’m thinking about your aunts Marlene and Darlene”

  “Marlene and Darlene” Joe sneered while retrieving the pizza with his two oven mitts, “that sounds funny, come on” he made the decision to take better control of the situation, “let’s have some food, don’t he rude, Eugenie” he glanced up at Barry, whose demeanor was resolutely not engaging in the idea of leaving and joining some bizarrely named aunts anywhere, trouble maker, his teacher brain identified, volatile.

  “Rude?”

  “Barry’s not well, as you know, he’s unwell and he’s super tired, and famished, I mean look at his face –one up for Joe, he thought, sensing the irritation in the boy— “he needs some nourishment and a warm bed”

  Eugenie finally touched him on her own volition, seized his elbow, “I’m sorry what do you mean as I know and he’s not well”

  “I thought you told him everything” Barry abruptly said, “seeing that you are close”

  “What did you say to him” she stared at Barry, unable to mask her apprehension

  “I apologize if I overshared”

  “Oh you would, wouldn’t you” she almost spat at him

  Joe redirected Eugenie’s hand inside his, still covered by the oven mitt, “it’s okay, sweetie, Barry explained to me that he was hurt in a shooting and that you were there too”

  The shock on her face almost made him sad for her, what she appeared to be going through right after burying one of her relatives in a faraway land and having these explosive revelations made about her without consent, but he couldn’t stop thinking, lies, lies, liar, liar. Perhaps she sensed it because he noticed the discreet layer of water conquering her eyes when she searched his face for something reassuring, some anticipated forgiveness or compassion, and he smiled back at her comfortingly, but as a teacher does to a student who’s going to fail the class. He would either love her more or leave her after that. “Do we have any like, alcohol” she asked

  And in a matter of minutes they were all seated at the table with plates and towels and a slice of pizza and a tall glass of wine. Joe brought the pitcher of water in the middle. It felt like a class council, or disciplinary meeting, but for what?

  “How was the funeral” Joe asked, cutting through his slice

  “Great” Eugenie took a big sip of her rosé, “so many people came from the village”

  “They’re still afraid of your grandma in the grave” Barry chuckled, his finger following the rim of his own glass

  “I’m sorry?” Joe did his best to appear amused

  Eugenie sighed, “my grandmother was into Seidr, it’s a modern version of old Norse witchcraft, and she wasn’t very social, she wasn’t really into people” she smiled with something genuine pulling on her lips for the first time since she came back, “so she scared a lot of those neighbors that she didn’t want to deal with like that with some… spells”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that story?”

  “I thought it was a little uninteresting to be honest, and a load of bullshit”

  “There was this case of illness befalling the town, after she sang that weird song” Barry objected

  “Barry, I just spent two days hearing all this gossip already from all the idiots there, I’m bored with them. By the way this pizza is out of this world” she said to Joe. The wine seemed to help her. He took a sip and welcomed the burning in his esophagus.

  “Joe, do you have any strange grandparents?” Barry asked him

  “You could say that” he chuckled, “on my mom’s side they were punk and on my dad’s side they were anarchists” It made Eugenie laugh lightly too.

  “What’s an anarchist”

  “It’s a person who doesn’t believe in vertical relationships of power” Joe explained, “they’re fond of thinking society would be better off without any god or master or just any leader”

  “And you didn’t take up to that?” Barry seemed sincerely interested

  “In the back of my mind, maybe” Joe mused, “but I like structure. I like having a system over my head. How about you” investigation mode, he switched to a hidden agenda, refilled the glass of Eugenie in a stealth move, “you have a big family? Those aunts, that Eugenie just mentioned?”

  Barry hurried to swallow a big chunk of pizza, “really delicious” he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin. His right hand remained buried inside his sweatshirt, and it reminded Joe of those bank robberies when a criminal walked to the front desk with a gun in their pocket, pointing the pocket at an employee and sneakily asking them to cooperate without causing a panic. Hidden things, he thought, but Barry went on to answer, “my aunts, they’re really like my fairy godmothers” he specified, “and they can be really overprotective, even suffocating”

  “I wonder why” Eugenie interjected between two gulps of wine

  “Anyway my father is in prison, but it’s alright” Barry said, “he is totally unable to live on the outside. Too many vices, temptations, you know, that kind of man”

  “Oh lord”

  “We are not close” Barry shook his head. He wasn’t drinking at all, “let’s say, you know, the way people summarize it: we love each other but we don’t like each other”

  “That’s cleverly put” Joe approved, “I’m not—”

  To his distaste, Eugenie cut him off, addressed Barry, “I would say your father likes you quite a lot”

  Barry remained silent and expressionless, so Joe couldn’t wait any longer, “you know his father?”

  “Yes” she lowered her eyes, perhaps wishing she had not interjected this, way, “I’ve met him”

  “Met— You… visitied him in prison?” Joe was giving her all the multiple choices possible.

  “No… before” she said, “at school… At School-World, you know” she finally looked Joe in the eye with more confidence, and all Joe could see in those eyes was lies lies lies, “that terrible hands-on educations store on 86th”

  Joe glanced at Barry, “your father is also a teacher?”

  The boy grimaced as if he’s been asked if his father could fly or turn into a zebra, “No-oh” he sneered, but then paused, searching for a lie. Lie lie lie, “he was in HR at a school, in the old days” Liar liar liar.

  “Where did you guys meet?” Joe asked, trying not to look too eager

  Eugenie suspended her slice of pizza one centimeter from her face with her mouth half opened, alarm in her eye, then blurted “An ad online”

  “School” Barry answered at the same time, “I mean an ad online, then school”

  “Yeah I uh was looking for a guest-speaker for my group and uh Barry came up”

  Joe scoffed, “for a second I almost thought you meant like, student and teacher”

  Eugenie laughed and shook her head, still didn’t move the pizza into her mouth. She clearly was waiting for what Barry would say before starting to munch and Joe was becoming increasingly suspicious.

  “It was quite nice, that guest speaking, wasn’t it?”

  “Joe doesn’t want to hear about those work stories” Eugenie brushed it off and replaced the pizza untouched in the middle of her plate, then sipped more on her wine

  “No I do, I had many guests speakers in my classes myself” Joe said, “it’s always a fun moment”

  “You tell him Barry”

  Barry was trying to roll his paper napkin into a tornado shape with one hand, which was quite an arduous task, but he was slowly making progress. On the contrary to Eugenie, he didn’t seem outrageously put on the spot or stressed out about being grilled by Joe, but rather entertained. Something was clearly wild about that guy, and Joe was in a haste to get to the juicy parts involving Eugenie. “She was looking for uhh a volunteer firefighter, which is my job, as I have uh stated before you got here, Eugenie”

  “Volunteer firefffyeah” she frowned, then nodded precipitately, “yeah that’s right”

  “How does it tie to Geography class” Joe was trying very hard to not make it look like he had an already established list of very specific questions.

  “Volcanoes” Eugenie said, nodding so energetically it seemed to be hopelessly. She swallowed her wine in one time and put a calming hand on her throat, “vol… canoes, excuse me”

  “Your job takes you to explore volcanoes?” Joe asked Barry

  “Many, many volcanoes” Eugenie assured

  “I mean not that many” Barry cocked his head, “I’ve seen a.. couple”

  “Which ones?”

  “Arf” the boy meant to gesture widely above the table to skip the volcano-naming part but his movements were limited, so the manoeuvre gave him the air of a short-armed dinosaur, “you know the usual ones. I just” he sniffled, tapped his fingers on the edge of his plate, “I like lava, fire, all that stuff”

  “Especially fire” Eugenie added

  “Seeing that I am a firefighter, it makes sense”

  “He likes to play with fire” Eugenie added

  “In your mouth it sounds like something bad” Barry noticed. Yes, Joe thought, it did sound like a jab