Flawed …Part 3 ...Editing My Life
―Stephen King
Thursdays are 'thirst days', aka Boys' Night Out. It's our tradition and Nat and Zach are eager to maintain it―Zach because he's married and needs a break and Nat, well because he's Nat and hasn't settled down yet but claims he's working on it.
He's struggling to make ends meet while finishing his Masters in Psychology and occasionally, he practices for free trying to psychoanalyze me. I'm not sure if it helps or hinders, but it sure as hell disturbs me.
He tosses a crumpled twenty dollar bill on the table and says, "First rounds on me," and Zach and I know that will be his last contribution to the evening. But what the hell―the guy's a perpetual student and he'll be paying back student loans until he's in his forties.
We're at our favourite watering hole, The Wheatsheaf Tavern, another Toronto tradition. The place is over 170 years old but the draft's always ice cold and the chicken wings what we live for―especially Nat, who's probably eaten Kraft dinner all the previous week, so we don't mind letting him live a bit.
The thing with Boys' Night Out is that it can so easily go sideways―if Nat has too much to drink or Zach gets maudlin about domestic problems. But by and large a good time is had by all, although I usually end up the designated driver―unless of course, we all indulge and end up spending too much on a Diamond Taxi.
Mind you, that bill is footed by Zach and me and Nat gets a free ride back to his residence.
Back in our university days we used to hang out at The Pilot Tavern. It was famous because Hemingway liked to drink there in the Thirties and it became a hangout for musicians and artists. We kind of absorbed the ambiance, but I was the only one of us with artistic leanings and I'm not sure if osmosis works by simply being around creative people.
But Julie Christie was there a lot and that made up for all its other deficiencies.
And now we're just three guys in out thirties out for a night and trying to brag about past glories.
"You boys want another round?" Nat's hand goes up as if he's back in school and knows the answer.
I think he's awed by the waitress who's flirting from table to table and tucking tips into her sweater's plunging neckline.
"Hey, I know you!" Nat exclaims and I groan inwardly. Damn! Not another one of these nights where things end up at sixes and sevens.
"Of course, you do, but I'm not sure Jase remembers," she drawls softly, patting my shoulder.
I turn to face her and my jaw drops―it's Sofia Ricci, someone I know all too well―or knew, if I get the tense right.
"Sofia Ricci," I smile, "I didn't know you worked here."
"Just started last week―is this your usual hangout?"
"It's our tradition," Nat chimes in and I want to seriously hurt him.
"Your tradition, huh? I thought you'd be married and settled down by now. What was that girl's name?"
"Emma," Nat smiles bleary eyed, and now I vow to myself I will surely murder him.
She looks surprised. "So, you guys didn't get hitched?"
"We're engaged," I mutter, clenching my jaw and wishing we had dispensed with 'tradition' and spent the night at The Pilot.
"Well, maybe we'll renew our acquaintance, seeing as you come here so often."
"Every Thursday night," Nat volunteers, and I can feel my hand on the gun, squeezing the trigger. I think I'll shoot him in the crotch first and afterwards in his grinning face so it can mock him in his grave.
She nods to a table of frat boys and drawls, "So, I have other tables to serve, boys, but this one is definitely going to be my favourite."
She musses Nat's hair and I don't think he'll comb it again, not that he was ever that particular.
Zach flashes me a pained look and gives a subtle head shake in the direction of the door. I nod and announce, "Sorry guys, I have to call it a night."
"Me too," Zach adds, "got an early morning lecture."
We get up to leave but Nat stays firmly planted.
"Aren't you coming?" Zach asks.
Nat gives a drunken grin, "Beer on the table," is all he says.
We leave him to it.
Out in the parking lot we sit in the car and Zach pounds the steering wheel. "Nat can be such a Yahoo―he gets stewed and comes unglued."
"It's all right," I reassure him, "no harm, no foul. We both know Zach's flaws."
"I guess it's back to The Pilot from now on," he says ruefully.
"Yeah, I think we were due for a change. Some customs are more honoured in the breach than in the observance."
"Spoken like a true scholar," He chuckles.
He inserts the key to start the car, but I reach out a hand to stop him. "I need to ask you something―are you in a hurry?"
He shakes his head. "No Man, what's on your mind?"
"Back when I postponed my wedding to Em, do you recall the reason I gave you?"
"Yeah, why do you think I wanted to get you out of there? I can tell you in one word―Sofia."
I stare at him in surprise.
"Really? I told you that?"
He nods, "You did the night we got drunk at The Pilot. I couldn't understand why you needed to wait. Like I always said, you and Em are golden. I figured you just needed time to get Sofia out of your system―and you did, but I don't know why you two still aren't married."
"Because I'm such an idiot," I hissed.
"Well, you'll get no argument from me on this one."
I decide to come clean."You know these night terrors I've been having? Well, it turns out it's my past talking back to me."
"That sounds deep, even for me. What do you mean?"
"I mean, I just found out I've been rewriting my past all this time―sort of like editing a manuscript. Only, it's more than that―I'm redacting things I can't face―censoring all the unpleasant parts and replacing them with lies to salve my conscience."
"That's heavy, Guy. Sounds like you need help, and I don't mean discussing it with Nat."
"Yeah, you think? He'd be the last person I'd trust to give advice."
Zach was frowning. "So, what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to a clinic and it's helping me so far. I just wanted to check with you, and now you confirmed what I suspected."
"Glad I could help, but here's some unsolicited advice, my friend―stay away from Sofia."
I clapped him affectionately on the shoulder to reassure him, but he needn't have worried. I was determined to undo my redactions and find out about my past and what really happened.
Who knows? Maybe at the end of my journey, I'll finally fix me and maybe even salvage my relationship with Emma
Thank you