Ashbee & Son

Regarding Stuffed Animals and Wine

I arrived back at 45 Arkell Street as the sun began to set.

After leaving the Chester Station house, I rushed to the nearest bar. There was one nearby on the Danforth which I'd frequented. It was there that I'd spend the rest of the day drinking myself into a whiskey-induced coma. I thought I had some onion rings at some point. I could taste them on my tongue a while later, so I suppose I did. I slapped two wrinkled 20-dollar bills on the counter and walked out. I could hardly remember the train ride home. My eyelids felt as if they were being weighed down by some invisible force. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't will them to stay open. When the train arrived at West Harbour Station in Hamilton, an attendant had to shake me awake. When she did, I clambered out the car and ordered a cab home.

Edmund was in his rocking chair watching another shoot-'em-up. The volume on the TV was so loud that he couldn't have heard me come in, which was what I wanted. I stumbled up the stairs, relieved myself, and headed to my room where everything spun around me.

I hadn't consumed that much whiskey since a New Year's Eve many, many New Year's Eve's ago. Ingrid and I spent the night there, at 45 Arkell Street. We were so drunk. Blasting out my little CD player was "One Headlight" by The Wallflowers. We gulped heartily from a bottle of Seagram's 7, letting it spill over the sheets. A smile played on my lips. A wince. And a palm was put to my pounding head. There was something beginning to happen in my stomach. A gurgling. I sat upon the bed. There was tension between the poison I drank and the acid meaning to defend me from it. I closed my eyes. We shared a cigarette by the frozen waters of Pier 4 Park. The moon was white. Full. Casting a pale glow along the ice. I still see those wisps of golden hair falling over her blue eyes. Her lips, full and red like rose petals. She pulled on the smoke. She told me that the past year was the happiest she'd ever been. She said I was her only one. No one else got her the way I did. Her friends didn't. Her mother didn't. If only she were more like her older sister, who was 15 years her elder and an Associate Professor of Philosophy at McGill. Mila was mean. Critical. "Well, Ingrid's not the brightest bulb," she would say, laughing with the neighbours. Her father, a top engineer with Bombardier, would have stood up for her if not for his constant board room meetings in Toronto, London, Malta... (there's likely more, but hell if I remember). She tortured her "runt." She told Ingrid she would be a great beauty. She would have that going for her. If only she weren't such a "chubby bunny." It drove her to an eating disorder at 13. She confessed it almost killed her. When we met in high school, that all changed. She had me. She didn't need her mother anymore. Mila only started coming around only after we had Charlie. She'd been waiting for us to finally pop out a child. Or, so she said. Our hands were tied. We needed a free sitter. "The poor thing is skin and bones!" she complained. "The boy needs meat!" That's when my phone began to ring. I slid it out from my pocket. It was Ingrid.

"Hello?" I said.

"Tobias." Her voice was cold.

"Yes?" I said.

"Did you come by the house today?"

I immediately regretted picking up the phone. I stalled, not knowing how to respond to her interrogative inquiry.

"Toby?"

"Ye— yes," I stammered.

She let out an icy breath. "So you were here today," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"Why?"

I shrugged. She couldn't see it. It was an instinctual gesture. Or, it was that I couldn't think of anything to say. The line was silent for a moment. I couldn't think of an answer to give her.

"You can't be coming over to the house," she said at length.

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because, why?"

She let out another bitter cold breath. "It's trespassing, Toby. It's illegal, and—"

"Why were Charlie's stuffies all misarranged? The three African animals are supposed to be in the back, the two arctic ones in the middle, and the teddy in the front. Why were they askew? And why was the house so tidy?"

"I saw that you fixed them," she said. "I also saw that you drank my wine and left a glass in my room—"

"Our room," I said.

"It's not our room," she said. My eyes welled with tears.

"You took away all the photos of me," I said.

Silence took the line.

"The photos of us together as a fam—"

"It's a lie, Toby."

"But what will Charlie think? Are you going to try to cut me out of his life forever?" There was silence for a moment. And then Ingrid said, "The house was tidy and Charlie's animals were askew because of Eugene."

I gripped the phone with a force that might have caused its casing to buckle if I didn't calm myself before doing so. I took a deep breath, and it almost led to sobs. "Why is this happening, Ingrid? Why are you doing this?"

"We married too early, Toby. We dated through high school and through university. I never got the chance to experience life outside us."

A kick drum started in my head. Thrumming then thundering. I gripped my forehead and closed my eyes. "I would never have cheated on you, Ingrid. No matter how bad our marriage was, I would never do that to you and Charlie."

"Oh, but neglecting us and treating us like trash is chivalrous? Don't you dare get self-righteous with me, asshole. I had to get through the shitty life we had somehow."

I inhaled a big breath and let it out. "Can I speak to Charlie? Can I say goodbye?"

"I don't know," she said.

"Please, Ingrid."

She called his name, and there was a moment of silence. "Daddy?" he said.

"Charlie," I choked on the word.

"It's Monday, daddy, and you know what that means."

Grilled cheese, Charlie. Grilled cheese, my darling boy. "Grilled cheese, right?" I could barely say. Tears running.

"Yes! And mummy has the cheese all sliced. And we bought the good bread from the store with that scary man who always says got a points card? You know that scary man, don't you, daddy?"

"I do, son." The words were a quivering breath.

"Eugene took us there. And then we went to the market by the beach that looks like a big barn. And he bought cheese that was a lot of money. And then he bought me caramel corn, and he held mummy's hand."

Fucking Eugene.

"When are you coming home, daddy? Mummy said you're going away. What does that mean? Eugene said that sometimes mummies and daddies fall out of love. What does that mean?"

Eugene, you Goddamn son-of-a-bitch! I took a breath. "Charlie, son, I need to tell you something—"

"When are you coming home, daddy? When?"

"Charlie, I love you. I need to tell you that I'm sorry for not being the daddy you needed. I'm going away for a while. Your mummy will explain everything to you. It won't make any sense right now, but I promise you, when you grow up, it will."

"Going away where, daddy?"

There was a rustling over the phone. And then Ingrid said, "If you come by the house again, Tobias, I'll call the police."