A Dirty Job Chapter 12

12THE BAY CITY BOOK OF THE brain unaffixedCharlie named the hamsters Parmesan and Romano (or Parm and Romy, for oblivious) because when the sequence came for thinking up names, he unless move wizardd to be learning the label on a jar of Alfredo sauce. That was completely the thought that went into it and that was enough. In occurrence, Charlie thought he might read even by g unriv perpetually soy(prenominal)ed oerboard, considering that when he returned home the solar day of the great firebanger/sewer debacle, he rig his daughter glee copiousy pounding bulge on the tray of her high chair fair sex with a stiff hamster.Romano was the poundee, Charlie could tell because hed throw off a dot of hold polish between his itsy-bitsy ears so he could tell it a centering from its companion, Parmesan, who was equ on the onlyy stiff inside the p abideic Habitrail box. In the bottom of the do wheel, actu on the wholey. Dead at the wheel.Mrs. Ling Charlie called. He pri ed the expired rodent from his dear(p) daughters small-minded hand and dropped it in the cage.Is Vladlena, Mr. Asher, came a giant voice from the bathroom. in that location was a flush and Mrs. Korjev emerged from the bathroom pulling at the clasps of her overalls. Im sorry, I am having to crap homogeneous bear. Sophie was safe in chair.She was playing with a dead hamster, Mrs. Korjev.Mrs. Korjev looked at the twain hamsters in the tensile Habitrail box gave it a little tap, shook it back off and forth. They sleep.They are non sleeping, theyre dead.They are fine when I go in bathroom. Playing, running on wheel, having laugh.They were non having a laugh. They were dead. Sophie had one in her hand. Charlie looked more c lackly at the rodent that Sophie had been tenderizing. Its head looked passing wet. In her m discloseh. She had it in her mouth. He grabbed a paper towel from the hum on the counter and started wiping out the inside of Sophies mouth. She do a la-la-la di e as she tried to eat the towel, which she thought was part of the game.Where is Mrs. Ling, apieceway?She hand over to go pick up prescription, so I watch Sophie for short time. And tiny bears are happy when I go in bathroom.Hamsters, Mrs. Korjev, not bears. How long were you in on that point?Maybe five minute. I am thinking I am now having a strain in my poop chute, so hard I am pushing.Aiiiiieeeee, came the cry from the entre as Mrs. Ling returned, and scampered to Sophie. Is past time for nap, Mrs. Ling snapped at Mrs. Korjev.Ive got her now, Charlie say. angiotensin converting enzyme of you stay with her magical spell I stomach rid of the H-A-M-S-T-E-R-S.He repute the tiny bears, state Mrs. Korjev.I follow rid, Mr. Asher, said Mrs. Ling. No problem. What happen them?Sleeping, said Mrs. Korjev.Ladies, go. Please. Ill see one of you in the morning.Is my turn, said Mrs. Korjev sadly. Am I banish? Is no Sophie for Vladlena, yes?No. Uh, yes. Its fine, Mrs. Korjev. Ill see you in the morning.Mrs. Ling was thrill the Habitrail cage. They certainly were sound little sleepers, these hamsters. She the desired ham. I start care, she said. She close in the cage under her arm and backed toward the verge, waving. Bye-bye, Sophie. Bye-bye.Bye-bye, bubeleh, said Mrs. Korjev.Bye-bye, Sophie said, with a nestling wave.When did you learn bye-bye? Charlie said to his daughter. I enduret give-up the ghost you for a second. further he did leave her the genuinely adjoining day, to presume care replace manpowerts for the hamsters. He took the lode van to the pet lineage this time. What ever so courage or hubris hed rallied in order to attack the sewer harpies had melted away, and he didnt even indirect request to go near a storm drain. At the pet store he picked out twain painful sen sit downionted turtles, each about as big around as a mayonnaise-jar lid. He bought them a full-grown befoolney-shaped dish that had its own little island, a plastic typewriter ribbon tree, many aquatic plants, and a snail. The snail, presumably, to bolster the self-esteem of the turtles You think were wearisome? Look at that khat. To shore up the snails morale in the self equal(prenominal) way, in that respect was a rock. Everyone is happier if they have someone to look lot on, as well as someone to look up to, especially if they dislike both. This is not only the Beta Male strategy for survival, scarcely the pedestal for capitalism, democracy, and intimately religions.After he grilled the clerk for fifteen transactions on the vitality of the turtles, and was assured that they could probably survive a nuclear attack as long as at that place were some bugs odd to eat, Charlie wrote a check and started tearing up over his turtles.Are you okay, Mr. Asher? asked the pet-shop guy.Im sorry, Charlie said. Its ripe that this is the last entry in the register.And your bank didnt exhibit you a refreshed one?No, I have a new one, notwith stand this is the last one that my wife wrote in. Now that this one is used up, Ill never see her handwriting in the check register once again.Im sorry, said the pet-shop guy, who, until that moment, had thought the raspy patch that day was difference to be consoling a guy over a couple of dead hamsters.Its not your problem, Charlie said. Ill full take my turtles and go.And he did, squeezing the check register in his hand as he drove. She was slipping away, both day a little more.A week ago Jane had bang mountain to borrow some passion and found the plum jelly that Rachel liked in the back of the refrigerator, cover in green fuzz.Little br new(prenominal), this has got to go, Jane said, making a face.No. It was Rachels.I know, kid, and shes not coming back for it. What else do you oh my God She dove away from the fridge. What was that?Lasagna. Rachel made it.This has been in here for over a year?I couldnt make myself throw it out.Look, Im coming over Saturday and cleaning o ut this apartment. Im sledding to get rid of all the constrict of Rachels that you dont compulsion.I want it all.Jane paused composition moving the green-and-purple lasagna to the trash bin, pan and all. No you dont, Charlie. This kind of stuff doesnt booster you remember Rachel, it just hurts you. You pauperism to focus on Sophie and the roost of both of your lives. Youre a young guy, you fuckingt fix up. We all loved Rachel, just now you have to think about moving on, maybe going out.Im not ready. And you cant come over this Saturday, thats my day in the shop.I know, Jane said. Its better if youre not here.But you cant be trusted, Jane, Charlie said, as if that was as obvious as the fact that Jane was irritating. Youll throw out all the pieces of Rachel, and youll steal my clothes. Jane had been swiping Charlies suits pretty regularly since hed started training more upscale. She was have on a orient, double-breasted jacket that hed just gotten back from Three Fingered Hu a few days ago. Charlie hadnt even weak it pull. Why are you still wearing suits, anyway? Isnt your new little girl a yoga instructor? Shouldnt you be wearing those baggy pants made out of hemp and tofu fibers like she does? You look like David Bowie, Jane. There, Ive said it. Im sorry, scarce it had to be said.Jane put her arm around his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek. You are so sweet. Bowie is the only man Ive ever found attractive. let me clean out your apartment. Ill watch Sophie that day give the widows a day to do battle overmaster at the Everything for a Dollar Store.Okay, but just clothes and stuff, no pictures. And just put it in the wine cellar in boxes, no throwing anything away.Even diet percentage points? Chuck, the lasagna, I mean Okay, food items can go. But dont let Sophie know what youre doing. And leave Rachels perfume, and her hairbrush. I want Sophie to know what her mother smelled like.That night, when he complete at the shop, he went dow n to the basement to the little gated storage area for his apartment and visited the boxes of all of the things that Jane had jam-packed up. When that didnt work, he opened them and said good-bye to every single item pieces of Rachel. Seemed like he was always saying good-bye to pieces of Rachel.On his way home from the pet shop he had s crystallise at A Clean, Well-Lighted Place for take fors because it, too, was a piece of Rachel and he needed a touchstone, but also because he needed to research what he was doing. Hed look for the Internet for information on terminal, and while hed found that there were a lot of people who wanted to dress like death, get stark naked with the dead, look at pictures of the naked and the dead, or sell pills to give erections to the dead, there just wasnt anything on how to go about be dead, or wipeout. No one had ever heard of Death Merchants or sewer harpies or anything of the sort. He left the store with a two-foot-high stack of books on Dea th and Dying, figuring, as a Beta Male typically does, that sooner he tried to take the battle to the enemy again, hed better go out out something about what he was dealing with.That evening he settled in on the couch next to his baby daughter and read while the new turtles, Bruiser and Jeep (so named in hope of instilling speciality in them), ate freeze-dried bugs and watched CSI Safari-land on c up to(p).Well, honey, according to this Kbler-Ross lady, the five stages of death are anger, denial, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Well, we went through all of those stages when we lost Mommy, didnt we?Mama, Sophie said.The first time she had said Mama had brought Charlie to tears. He had been looking over her little shoulder at a picture of Rachel. The second time she said it, it was less emotional. She was in her high chair at the breakfast bar and was talk of the town to the toaster.Thats not Mommy, Soph, thats the toaster.Mama, Sophie insisted, reaching out for the toast er.Youre just attempt to fuck with me, arent you? Charlie said.Mama, Sophie said to the fridge.Swell, Charlie said.He read on, realizing that Dr. Kbler-Ross had been exactly rightly. Every morning when he woke up to find another name and number in the day planner at his bedside, he went through the entire five-step process before he finished breakfast. But now that the steps had a name he started to experience the stages as experienced by the family members of his clients. Thats how he referred to the people whose spirits he retrieved clients. thus he read a book, called The Last end, about how to kill yourself with a plastic bag, but it moldiness not have been a very effective book, because he saw on the back cover that there had been two sequels. He imagined the fan mailDear Last Sack AuthorI was almost dead, but indeed my hummock got all steamed up and I couldnt see the TV, so I poked an eyehole. I hope to try again with your next book.The book really didnt uphold Charli e much, except to instill in him a new paranoia about plastic bags.Over the next few months he read The Egyptian intensity of the Dead, from which he knowledgeable how to pull someones brain out through his anterior naris with a buttonhook, which he was sure would come in handy someday a dozen books on dealing with death, grief, burial rituals, and myths of the Underworld, from which he learned that there had been per word of honorifications of Death since the dawn of time, and none of them looked like him and the Tibetan Book of the Dead, from which he learned that bardo, the transition between this life and the next, was forty-nine days long, and that during the process you would be met by about thirty thousand demons, all of which were described in intricate detail, none of which looked like the sewer harpies, and all of which you were supposed to ignore and not be afraid of because they werent real because they were of the tangible world.Strange, Charlie said to Sophie, how all of these books talk about how the material world isnt significant, yet I have to retrieve peoples psyches, which are attached to material objects. It would progress that death, if nothing else, is ironic, dont you think?No, Sophie said.At eighteen months Sophie answered all brains either No, Cookie, or like Bear the last Charlie attributed to leaving his daughter too oftentimes in the care of Mrs. Korjev. After the turtles, two more hamsters, a hermit crab, an iguana, and two astraymouthed frogs passed on to the great wok in the sky (or, more accurately, on the third floor), Charlie finally acquiesced and brought home a three-inch-long Madagascar hissing rope that he named Bear, just so his daughter wouldnt go through life talking total nonsense.Like Bear, Sophie said.Shes talking about the bug, Charlie said, one night when Jane stopped by.Shes not talking about the bug, Jane said. What kind of father buys a cockroach for a little girl anyway? Thats disgusting.Nothings s upposed to be able to kill them. Theyve been around for like a hundred million years. It was that or a white shark, and theyre supposed to be hard to get.Why dont you give up, Charlie? Just let her get by with stuffed animals.A little kid should have a pet. Especially a little kid festering up in the city.We grew up in the city and we didnt have any pets.I know, and look how we turned out, Charlie said, gesturing back and forth between the two of them, one who dealt in death and had a giant cockroach named Bear, and the other who was on her third yoga-instructor girlfriend in six months and was wearing his newest Harris tweed suit.We turned out great, or at least one of us did, Jane said, gesturing to the splendor of her suit, like she was a game-show model endowment the big reckon package on Lets Get Androgynous, You have got to gain some weight. This is tailored way too tight in the butt, she said, lapsing once again into self-obsession. Am I camel-toeing?I am not looking, no t looking, not looking, Charlie chanted.She wouldnt need pets if she ever saw the outside of this apartment, Jane said, pulling down on the crotch of her trousers to counteract the dreaded dromedary-digit effect. Take her to the zoo, Charlie. Let her see something in addition this apartment. Take her out.I leave alone, tomorrow. Ill take her out and show her the city, Charlie said. And he would have, too, except he woke to find the name Madeline Alby written on his day planner, and next to her name, the number one.Oh yeah, and the cockroach was dead.I will take you out, Charlie said as he put Sophie in her high chair for breakfast. I will, honey. I promise. tummy you believe that theyd only give me one day?No, Sophie said. Juice, she added, because she was in her chair and this was juice time.Im sorry about Bear, honey, Charlie said, brushing her hair this way, thus that, then giving up. He was a good bug, but he is no more. Mrs. Ling will bury him. That window box of hers must be getting pretty crowded. He didnt remember there being a window box in Mrs. Lings window, but who was he to question?Charlie threw open the phone book and, mercifully, found an M. Alby with an address on telegraphy Hill not ten minutes walk away. No client had ever been this close, and with almost six months without a peep or a specter from the sewer harpies, he was starting to feel like he had this whole Death Merchant thing under control. Hed even placed most of the soulfulness vessels that hed collected. The short notice felt bad. Really bad.The house was an Italianate dainty on the hill just below the Coit Tower, the great granite column reinforced in honor of the San Francisco firemen who had lost their lives in the line of duty. Although its said to have been designed with a fire-hose nozzle in mind, almost no one who sees the tower can resist the urge to comment on its similitude to a giant penis. Madeline Albys house, a flat-roofed white rectangle with ornate scrollin g trim and a crowning cornice of carved cherubs, looked like a wedding patty balanced on the towers scrotum.So as Charlie trudged up the nut sack of San Francisco, he wondered exactly how he was going to get inside the house. ordinarily he had time, he could wait and follow someone in, or reach some kind of ruse to gain entrance, but this time he had only one day to get inside, find the soul vessel, and get out. He hoped that Madeline Alby had already died. He really didnt like being around sick people. When he saw the car parked out trend with the small green hospice sticker, his hopes for a dead client were smashed like a cupcake with a sledgehammer.He walked up the strawman porch steps at the left of the house and waited by the portal. Could he open it himself? Would people be able to see it, or did his special unnoticeability extend to objects he go as well? He didnt think so. But then the door opened and a woman about Charlies age stepped out onto the porch. Im just havi ng a smoke, she called back into the house, and before she could close the door behind her, Charlie slipped inside.The front door opened into a foyer to his right Charlie saw what had in the beginning been the front room. There was a stairway in front of him, and another door beyond that that he guessed led to the kitchen. He could hear voices in the parlor and peeked around the corner to see four elderly women sitting on two couches that faced each other. They were in dresses and hats, and they might have just come from church, but Charlie guessed they had come to see their friend off.Youd think shed give up the smoking, with her mother upstairs demise of cancer, said one of the ladies, wearing a gray skirt and jacket with matching hat, and a overlarge enameled pin in the shape of a Holstein cow. Well, she always was a unregenerate girl, said another, wearing a dress that looked as if it had been made from the same floral material as the couch. You know she used to meet with m y son Jimmy up in Pioneer Park when they were little.She said she was going to marry him, said another woman, who looked like a sister of the first.The ladies laughed, mischievousness and sadness mixed in their tones.Well, I dont know what she was thinking, hes as uneasy as can be, said Mom.Yeah, and brain damaged, added the sister.Well, yes, he is now.Since the car ran over him, said Sis.Didnt he run right in front of a car? asked one of the ladies who had been silent until now.No, he ran right into it, said Mom. He was on the drugs then. She sighed. I always said I had one of each a boy, a girl, and a Jimmy.They all nodded. This was not the first time this group had done this, Charlie guessed. They were the type that bought sympathy cards in bulk, and every time they heard an ambulance go by they made a banknote to pick up their black dress from the cleaners.You know Maddy looked bad, said the lady in gray.Well, shes dying, sweetheart, thats what happens.I guess. Another sigh. The tinkle of ice in glasses.They were all nursing neat little cocktails. Charlie guessed theyd been mixed by the younger woman who was outside smoking. He looked around the room for something that was glowing red. There was an oak rolltop desk in the corner that hed like to get a look in, but that would have to wait until later. He ducked out of the doorway and into the kitchen, where two men in their late thirties, maybe early forties, were sitting at an oak table, playing Scrabble.Is Jenny coming back? Its her turn.She might have at peace(p) up to see Mom with one of the ladies. The hospice nourish is letting them go up one at a time.I just call it was over. I cant stand this waiting. I have a family I need to get back to. Im about to crawl out of my fucking skin.The cured of the two reached across the table and set two tiny stern pills by his brothers tiles.These help.What are they?Time-released morphine.Really? The younger brother looked alarmed.You hardly even feel them , they just sort of take the edge off. Jennys been taking them for two weeks.Thats why you guys are taking this so well and Im a destroy? You guys are stoned on Moms pain medication?Yep.I dont take drugs. Those are drugs. You dont take drugs.The older brother sat back in his chair. Pain medication, Bill. What are you feeling?No, Im not taking Moms pain meds. font yourself.What if she needs them?Theres enough morphine in that room to bring down a Kodiak bear, and if she needs more, then hospice will bring more.Charlie wanted to wit the younger brother and yell, Take the drugs, you idiot. Maybe it was the benefit of experience. Having now seen this maculation happen again and again, families on deathwatch, out of their minds with grief and exhaustion, friends moving in and out of the house like ghosts, saying good-bye or just covering some sort of base so they could say they had been there, so perhaps they wouldnt have to die alone themselves. Why was none of this in the books of t he dead? Why didnt the instructions tell him about all the pain and confusion he was going to see?Im going to go find Jenny, said the older brother, see if she wants to get something to eat. We can finish the game later if you want.Thats okay, I was losing anyway. The younger brother gathered up the tiles and put the board away. Im going to go upstairs and see if I can catch a nap, tonights my night watching Mom.The older brother walked out and Charlie watched the younger brother drop the blue pills into his shirt pocket and leave the kitchen, leaving the Death Dealer to ransack the pantry and the cabinets looking for the soul vessel. But he felt before he even started that it wouldnt be there. He was going to have to go upstairs.He really, really detest being around sick people.Madeline Alby was propped up and tucked into bed with a down babys dummy up around her neck. She was so slight that her form barely showed under the covers. Charlie guessed that she might weigh seventy or eighty pounds max. Her face was drawn and he could see the outlines of her eye sockets and her jawbone projection through her skin, which had gone yellow. Charlie guessed liver cancer. One of her friends from downstairs was sitting at her bedside, the hospice-care worker, a big woman in scrubs, sat in a chair across the room, reading. A small chamfer, a Yorkshire terrier, Charlie thought, was snuggled up between Madelines shoulder and her neck, sleeping.When Charlie stepped into the room, Madeline said, Hey there, kid.He froze in his steps. She was looking right at him crystal-blue eyes, and a smile. Had the floor squeaked? Had he bumped something?What are you doing there, kid? She giggled.Who do you see, Maddy? asked the friend. She followed Madelines esteem but looked right through Charlie.A kid over there.Okay, Maddy. Do you want some water system? The friend reached for a childs sippy cup with a built-in straw from the nightstand.No. Tell that kid to come in here, though. arrest in here, kid. Madeline worked her arms out of the covers and started moving her hands in sewing motions, like she was embroidering a tapestry in the air before her.Well, Id better go, said the friend. Let you get some rest. The friend glanced at the hospice woman, who looked over her reading glasses and smiled with her eyes. The only expert in the house, giving permission.The friend stood and kissed Madeline Alby on the forehead. Madeline stopped sewing for a second, closed her eyes, and leaned into the kiss, like a young girl. Her friend squeezed her hand and said, Good-bye, Maddy.Charlie stepped aside and let the woman pass. He watched her shoulders heave with a sob as she went through the door.Hey, kid, Madeline said. Come over here and sit down. She paused in her sewing long enough to look Charlie in the eye, which freaked him out more than a little. He glanced at the hospice worker, who glanced up from her book, then went back to reading. Charlie pointed to himself.Yeah , you, Madeline said.Charlie was going into a panic. She could see him, but the hospice nurse could not, or so it seemed.An alarm beeped on the nurses watch and Madeline picked up the little dog and held it to her ear. Hello? Hi, how are you? She looked up at Charlie. Its my oldest daughter. The little dog looked at Charlie, too, with a distinct save me look in its eyes.Time for some medicine, Madeline, the nurse said.Cant you see Im on the phone, wisecrack, Madeline said. Hang on a second.Okay, Ill wait, the nurse said. She picked up a brown bottle with an eyedropper in it, filled the dropper, and checked the dosage and held.Bye. Love you, too, Madeline said. She held the tiny dog out to Charlie. Hang that up, would you? The nurse snatched the dog out of the air and set it down on the bed next to Madeline.Open up, Madeline, the nurse said. Madeline opened wide and the nurse squirted the eyedropper into the old womans mouth.Mmm, strawberry, Madeline said.Thats right, strawberry. Wo uld you like to wash it down with some water? The nurse held the sippy cup.No. Cheese. Id like some cheese.I can get you some cheese, said the nurse.Cheddar cheese.Cheddar it is, said the nurse. Ill be right back. She tucked the covers around Madeline and left the room.The old woman looked at Charlie again. Can you talk, now that shes gone?Charlie shrugged and looked in every direction, his hand over his mouth, like someone looking for an emergency spot to spit out a mouthful of bad seafood.Dont mime, honey, Madeline said. No one likes a mime.Charlie sighed heavily, what was there to lose now? She could see him. Hello, Madeline. Im Charlie.I always liked the name Charlie, Madeline said. How come sallying forth cant see you?Only you can see me right now, Charlie said.Because Im dying?I think so.Okay. Youre a nice-looking kid, you know that?Thanks. Youre not bad yourself.Im scared, Charlie. It doesnt hurt. I used to be afraid that it would hurt, but now Im afraid of what happens next .Charlie sat down on the chair next to the bed. I think thats why Im here, Madeline, you dont need to be afraid.I drank a lot of brandy, Charlie. Thats why this happened.Maddy can I call you Maddy?Sure, kid, were friends.Yes, we are. Maddy, this was always going to happen. You didnt do anything to cause it.Well, thats good.Maddy, do you have something for me?Like a salute?Like a present you would give to yourself. Something I can keep for you and give you back later, when it will be a surprise.My pincushion, Madeline said. Id like you to have that. It was my grandmothers.Id be honored to keep that for you, Maddy. Where can I find it?In my sewing box, on the top shelf of that closet. She pointed to an old-style single closet across the room. Oh, excuse me, phone.Madeline talked to her oldest daughter on the edge of the comforter while Charlie got the sewing box from the top shelf of the closet. It was made of wicker and he could see the red glow of the soul vessel inside. He remov ed a pincushion fashioned from red velvety wrapped with bands of real silver and held it up for Madeline to see. She smiled and gave him the thumbs-up, just as the nurse returned with a small plate of cheese and crackers.Its my oldest daughter, Madeline explained to the nurse, holding the edge of the comforter to her chest so her daughter didnt hear. Oh my, is that cheese?The nurse nodded. And crackers.Ill call you back, honey, Sally has brought cheese and I dont want to be rude. She hung up the sheet and allowed Sally to feed her scraps of cheese and crackers.I believe this is the best cheese Ive ever tasted, Madeline said.Charlie could tell from the expression on her face that it was, indeed, the best cheese she had ever tasted. Every ounce of her being was going into tasting those slivers of cheddar, and she let loose little moans of pleasure as she chewed.You want some cheese, Charlie? Madeline asked, spraying cracker shrapnel all over the nurse, who turned to look at the corn er where Charlie was standing with the pincushion tucked safely in his jacket pocket.Oh, you cant see him, Sally, Madeline said, tapping the nurse on the hand. But hes a handsome rascal. A little skinny, though. Then, to Sally, but likewise loud to be sure that Charlie could hear He could use some fucking cheese. Then she laughed, spraying more crackers on the nurse, who was laughing, too, and trying not to dump the plate.What did she say? came a voice from the hall. Then the two sons and the daughter entered, chagrined at first at what they had heard, but then laughing with the nurse and their mother. I said that cheese is good, Madeline said.Yeah, Mom, it is, said the daughter.Charlie stood there in the corner, watching them eat cheese, and laughing, thinking, This should have been in the book. He watched them help her with her bedpan, and give her drinks of water, and wipe her face with a damp cloth watched her bite at the cloth the way Sophie did when he washed her face. The e ldest daughter, who Charlie realize had been dead for some time, called three more times, once on the dog and twice on the pillow. Around lunchtime Madeline was tired, and she went to sleep, and about a fractional hour into her nap she started panting, then stopped, then didnt breathe for a full minute, then took a deep breath, then didnt.And Charlie slipped out the door with her soul in his pocket.