The Swan of Tuonela - 11. "Little bitty pissant country place...."

The next week Phillip and Chloe took their regular Tuesday lunch trip for Chinese. Chloe had discovered the restaurant by chance when looking for a dim sum place one weekend. A hole in the wall dive sandwiched between a Vietnamese grocery and a nail salon. Phillip liked their chow fung.

“So are you and Mark doing anything for your birthday?” Chloe asked.

“No. He told me he’s scheduled the whole weekend. He tried to get off, but he couldn’t,” Phillip said, frowning.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Chloe said, nodding sympathetically. “So how’s it going otherwise? I mean, you and Mark?”

Phillip stuck his chopsticks into the pile of noodles on his plate. “ It’s good…,” he said. “It’s good.”

“But…?” she said. “You sound hesitant.”

“Only because it’s too good, I guess.” Phillip paused and then mumbled a stream of gibberish syllables.

“And that means….what exactly?”

“It’s a Russian saying.”

Chloe looked at him skeptically. “You don’t speak Russian.”

“Yes I do. At least I did for the few weeks before I dropped the class,” he grinned. “My Russian teacher said it was a saying anyway. She made us memorize it to work on our pronunciation. It means something along the lines of ‘Please God, don’t let it get any better.’”

Chloe shook her head. “Gee, now there’s a wish I can see using every day.”

“No, no. It makes perfect sense in a sort of ‘glass half empty,’ pessimistic, Russian, way,” Phillip said. “The idea is that if it gets any better, it must be a dream or unreal or untrue.”

“I suppose,” Chloe answered dubiously. “So I guess that means things are going well then?”

“Very well. It’s just kind of freaky. It’s like everything will be going along, and then he does something that triggers a thought or a feeling that I haven’t had in years.”

“Something bad?”

“No. Just… something.” He paused. “This isn’t making sense, I know. I’m trying to think of an example.”

Chloe waited.

“OK,” Phillip began. “When I was in college, there was this couple I used to see around campus. I found out from a co-worker that one of them was a violin player. He has studied at the New England Conservatory or something and had met his lover somewhere up north, Boston, I guess. Anyway, they had moved down here so his lover could do pre-vet. I thought he was hot, the violin player that is, and was infatuated with him, in case you can’t tell. And I also thought his boyfriend wasn’t all that great, in case you also can’t tell”

“Phillip, you’re rambling.”

“OK, OK. So anyway, the guy I liked worked in the computer building, and I would spend evenings camped out studying there, hoping to see him. I would sit at the table for hours, just watching him work. I was working part-time in the circulation department at the library at the time, and we had printouts with all the student addresses so we could send out overdue notices and stuff like that, and I looked him up and found out their address. As it turned out, I had to walk by it on my way home. Sometimes I would stand outside their apartment building and imagine them watching TV together and cooking together and, I don’t know, sorting laundry together.”

Chloe was looking vaguely disturbed.

“Don’t look at me like that. I know this sounds very creepy and quasi stalking and stuff, but it really wasn’t like that. I just stood outside on the sidewalk. Like the song from Schubert’sWinterreise where the singer talks about just standing in silence outside his lover’s house.”

“Since I don’t know that piece, I guess I’ll assume that’s some kind of explanation.”

“Anyway,” Phillip continued. “I once saw them at the grocery store, going down the aisles with one cart, shopping. I followed them, trying to stay out of sight. They passed down each aisle, stopping now and then to consult a boxful of coupons one of them held, or talking about the relative worth of a particular brand of dishwashing soap. And so I followed them, up one aisle and down the next, always out of sight, feeling like some kind of animal, inhaling the feelings they left behind them, floating in the air. It was such a simple and mundane thing, buying food, hardly the stuff of high drama...,” he paused. “But at that moment as I watched them, I thought that I’d have given anything to have had someone to do that with. Not to go on some cruise with; not to go to Las Vegas or New York City or Paris or some other flashy place with; not to do any of the other romantic things you read about or hear about or see in the movies. All I wanted was someone to buy groceries with.”

He took a drink of his hot tea.

“So anyway, right before Thanksgiving, Mark and I were at the store buying stuff so I could make something to take to Scott and Doug’s. We didn’t have a lot of things to get, so I sent Mark on ahead to pick up a package of shredded cheese. I wasn’t really thinking particularly. I was concentrating on the things I needed to pick up, trying to not forget anything since I hadn’t made out a list. So I was going down the aisle, looking at the things already in the cart and thinking about what I still needed. And then as I turned the corner, I saw Mark far ahead, picking up first one package of cheese, reading the information, and then putting it back and picking up a different one, comparing the two. I stopped at the end of the aisle and watched as he looked at one package and then another and then another. And I thought of the violin player and his lover. And then it hit me. Mark and I were shopping. I had a lover and we were shopping. And just then, Mark turned and saw that I was watching him and smiled.” Phillip paused. “I actually caught my breath, as they say in the novels, and had to look away at the end of the aisle. It was stacked with rows of condensed milk and canned pumpkin pie filling. And when I looked back, he was talking to a little old woman, who was holding up two different packages of cheese and was asking him some questions, I guess. And in the middle of speaking to her, he looked at me and winked…” Phillip paused and then shrugged. “…So that’s how it’s going, I guess.”

Chloe was silent for a moment. “I think God should let it get better.”

Phillip smiled.

“So you’re sorry he can’t be around for your birthday.”

“It can’t be helped. I suspect I’ll survive. I tried to call Jack, but he said he was busy too.”

“Well, listen, if you want, we can do a movie and dinner or something.”

“Sure, that would be good. You know it’s the big three-o, this time,” he said seriously, “And I’m in deep denial. And I have nothing to do. How depressing is that. You don’t need anyone to go over your lines with you, do you?”

“No, I don’t, but let’s see,” Chloe said, thinking. “We could go see ‘Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.’ Everyone says it’s really funny. That should put you in a good mood.”

“OK, how about sometime Saturday afternoon? I’ll pick you up.”

*  *  *  * 

The movie was exactly what Phillip needed. He was feeling a little depressed at the thought of turning 30. Also, the prospect of not having Mark around for the entire weekend wasn’t helping either, so an afternoon of escapism was perfect.

“So where are we going for dinner?” Phillip asked, as he backed the car out of the parking space.

“How about Bonanza?” Chloe suggested

“That sounds good. I haven’t had steak in a couple of weeks, and I like their salad bar. The one over near you?”

“Sure.”

He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. They spent the next few minutes discussing their favorite parts of the movie.

“I love Dolly Parton,” Chloe said. “I know she can’t act her way out of a paper sack, but her just being herself is entertaining.”

“And I liked the duet with Burt Reynolds, just dancing around with a towel around his waist.”

“Bet I liked it more,” Chloe grinned

“Well, you’re probably right. I really don’t go for the whole hairy chest thing. The Aggie

football locker room scene, on the other hand, was hot.”

“Yeah, I was kind of surprised at the amount of skin they showed.”

“And with them all dancing around, bare-chested in those skin tight levis. Please. I know some queen choreographed that scene,” Phillip said. “For which I will be eternally grateful,” he added.

Phillip turned right and onto the freeway. A new Reba McEntire song came on the radio.

“Oh, I love this song,” Phillip said, turning the radio up. “Have you heard it?”

“Yeah, I bought the sheet music to the album last weekend. I’ve got it if you want to borrow it.

“Sure, I’d like to look at it.”

They rode singing along with the song. The traffic was heavy for a Saturday, the usual post-mall crowd heading home. .

“Oh wait,” Chloe said. “I’ve got a coupon for the restaurant. Let’s swing by my place and pick it up.”

“OK.”

Phillip pulled off the freeway at the next exit and turned down a side street. He turned into the parking lot of Chloe’s condo complex.

“Come on up and I’ll get the coupon and give you that music,” she said, as they went up the stairs and stopped on the landing. She unlocked the door, and they both entered.

“Surprise!”

Mark and Jack were standing in the living room.

“Oh, no,” Phillip said, shaking his head. “Oh, no you didn’t,” he said, looking at Chloe. “You did! You all planned the whole thing. The work schedule. The movie. The restaurant. The whole thing.”

“We couldn’t let an important occasion like this pass without a celebration,” Jack said.

“Well at least you didn’t bring black balloons,” Phillip noticed.

“I was going to,” Jack said, “But Mark thought it would be a bad idea.”

Phillip looked at Mark, who grinned.

“There’s the birthday present I want.”

“Oh, no, I have something special for you.”

Mark reached behind the sofa and pulled out a box wrapped in blue foil paper. There was no decoration and no card. Phillip ran a finger under the tape and turned over the flap of wrapping paper. He opened the box and pushed the tissue paper back. When he saw what was in the box, he looked up grinning.

“All right! A new bear.” He pulled out a stuffed bear, white with a black spot around its left eye.

“I thought you needed one with an intact nose,” Mark said.

Phillip walked over and placed the bear on Mark’s shoulders as if Mark were carrying a child. He then kissed him on the neck.

“Thank you,” Phillip said. “It’s the best birthday present I’ve had in a long time.” Phillip stood back appraising the Mark with the bear on his shoulder. “But we need to name him. What shall we call him?”

“Spot,” Jack volunteered.

“Ben,” Chloe offered. “You know, like Gentle Ben.”

“Yeah, but Gentle Ben was a brown bear. He was all one color,” Phillip said. They all debated the name of the new stuffed bear for some time.

“Well, I had a dog once that had a spot around his eye like that,” Mark said quietly.

“And what did you call him?” Phillip asked.

“Bugsy,” Mark said and smiled. “I guess it was a stupid name, but I was just a kid then.”

“No, it’s not a stupid name, and Bugsy it is,” Phillip said and placed the bear back in the box.

“And mine is a two part present,” Chloe said, handing Phillip a thin, square package that was obviously a record. Phillip ripped the wrapping off and was surprised that it included both a record and a thin, salmon colored book with red print.

“It’s those Chopin nocturnes you were talking about a while ago. And the sheet music too.”

“Let’s see,” Phillip said turning the record over and scanning the back. “Yes, here they are, my favorites, the e minor and c-sharp minor.” He looked at the music. “And the Chopin Institute edition. That’s awesome.”

“I guessed that was the one you were talking about,” Chloe said. “All I know is that it’s covered in words that have a Y as every other letter. The sales clerk had to search for it at the store.”

Phillip hugged her. “Yeah, I won’t be able to read the notes in the back, but the print is good.”

Jack handed Phillip a bottle of Jagermeister. Unboxed. Unwrapped. But unopened at least. “OK, so it’s not cultured or cute. But I’m sure it won’t remain unused. I figure alcohol is always a worthwhile present.”

“No argument from me,” Phillip said. “Should be break it out right now? I’m in a party mood. I feel like a Dancing Queen.” He started singing.

Mark grabbed Phillip in a headlock. “You’re not any kind of a queen, dancing or otherwise.”

“OK, a queen manqué,” Phillip said after pulling his head from Mark’s arms.

“A what? A queen monkey?” Mark asked, frowning.

“Not a queen monkey. A queen manqué. A fake queen. A pretend queen.”

“Oh, a pretentious queen. Now that I can see,” Mark said, nodding in thought.

“I don’t know why everyone has to be so mean to me on my birthday. I’m not that old,” Phillip said, looking at Jack for support.

Jack hesitated while Phillip and Mark both waited for his response. “Maybe we should just eat cake now?”

“No,” Chloe answered. “We’ll come back for cake and shots later. Right now, we’re all going for steak. Let me find that coupon, and we can go.”