Friday 20 September 2013

Chapter 18: At The Scotsman

            “So how come I’ve never asked you your story?” Marshall pulled out a chair in front of the window and sat down.
            “I don’t know. Why have you never asked me my story?” Pilar sat on the wooden chair facing Marshall, placing her pint on the table between them.
            “I don’t know,” Marshall smiled and scratched the back of his head. “I guess I never got around to it. So, yeah, what is your story? Hazel tells me your family is from Chile?”
            “Yeah. Well my parents are anyway. They moved out here in the 70s after Pinochet took control of the country. My Dad was a Marxists at university, and sympathetic to the MIR guerrillas in the aftermath of the coup. So it was only a matter of time before he was fingered. My parents met just after Dad had finished his geologist training and was doing his field training up in the Andes where he met a young Indian mulatto and fell in love. They married within 3 months of meeting, and they fled Chile before the military could get a hold of them.”
            “Woah. That’s awesome. What a story!”
Pilar laughed. “Maybe now. But at the time they were packing themselves. It’s no laughing matter to be wanted by a junta known to disappear people at will.”
“I guess not. So that makes your family refugees, then? They weren’t fuckin' boat people were they?” Marshall put on his most exaggerated bogan drawl. “Get to the back of the fuckin' queue!”
Pilar laughed. “Not even. They took a fuckin' plane. Got in the proper way, hey.”
They laughed and took great swigs of the beers to fill in the silence that followed. Marshall continued. “Have you been there at all?”
“Yeah. My parents took me there when I was a teenager; when they considered it safe again.”
“How was that, going to your homeland? Do you think you’ll ever go and live there?”
“I don’t think so. My life is here, all my friends are here. This is where I know. This is home. It’s a completely different world over there, and I barely even speak the language.”
Marshall looked out the window at the traffic banked up on Beaufort St. The sour smell of stale beer rose from the carpet under the table. Spots of rain fell on the footpath outside. Patrons edged their tables further under the awning seeking shelter. Pilar picked up her beer and rotated the glass so that the beer caught and washed away the foam clinging to the sides of the glass as she tilted the cool liquid towards her mouth.
“So why Australia? Why not somewhere Spanish speaking?”
“Well at the time the rest of South America was in a pretty similar situation. It just wasn’t a safe place to be. And my father had heard of all the geology and mining opportunities over here, so he knew he wouldn’t really struggle to find work. His English was limited, but he got by. They had me, and here I am.”
“Here you are.” Marshall smiled and raised his glass. She met it in mid-air with her own.  They sipped. “So is your Dad still in the mining industry?”
“Kinda, yeah. He had a bit of a crisis of conscience not long after he got here. He couldn’t quite marry up his socialist instincts with the whole ‘raping the earth’ thing.”
They shared a smile. “I was wondering about that, yeah.”
“He’s since switched from the exploration thing to the restoration side of things. It floats better with his conscience cleaning up the mess rather than making it in the first place. I still give him crap for being in that whole industry, but at least he’s taken steps to make sure his own impact is minimized. I’m sure there are a lot of miners that used to think like my father, but for whatever reason have chosen to abandon that way of thinking. I have to be proud of my father for that.” For all her left wing distain for capitalism she would defend her father from accusations against his credibility until the end of time. She was proud of him, his story, his journey.
As they were taking long drags from their glasses Pilar waved over Marshall’s shoulder as Alby bounded into the pub. He waved back and shouted a greeting towards them as he reached the bar and ordered. While he waited for his beer to be poured he came over to chat.
“Hi guys! Fancy seeing you here,” he drawled sarcastically.
“Where’s Zach? I thought he was coming too.”
“He is. He’s just gone up to see Donna first. Stupid boy’s in love or something.”
“Yeah. What a loser.” She sipped her beer. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“You know perfectly well what.”
“Oh, you know,” Alby brushed away at the air in front of his face.
“Come on.”
“Weeeeellllllll. We’re going to America if that’s what you mean.”
Pilar squealed with delight and leapt up to hug him. Beer sloshed over the rim of her glass. Alby laughed as she hung, feet dangling, from his neck. Marshall stood and shook his hand.
“When are you going?”
“March next year. We’ll be playing some showcases at South-by-South-West in Texas. It’s going to be awesome.”
“That’s fucking huge! Congratulations.”
“Ta. Our label’s been in talks with Merge Records in the US and they’ve secured us a distribution deal. We’ll be playing gigs under their banner, and all that brings. It’s such a rush. We’re gonna tour the motherfucking US of A!”
High fives were dealt. Mattias rushed up from behind and leapt onto Alby’s back. “Fuck yeah, you sonofabitch!”
“Do you need roadies? I could be a roadie. Check out me guns,” said Pilar, flexing.
“Don’t know yet. That’ll depend on how much we get, and if we can squeeze any extra out of DCA or Arts Oz. It’d be great to have you along though. You’ll be first in line.”
“Damn straight.”
“I can come too, right?” Mattias chipped in.
“Sure man. You’re not banned from leaving the country?”
“Yeah, but I can get around that. I’m a master of disguise.” Mattias turned away and motioned as if rearranging his own face. He turned around, fingers looped around his eyes like glasses and a finger across his upper lip hiding his moustache.
“Hi. Can we help you?”
“Where did Mattias go?”
“He just disappeared.”
“It’s me guys!” he removed his hands from his face and glowed at them.
“Wow! You’re amazing!”
“How did you do that?”
“Woah.”
“It’s my illusion.”
Alby went back to the bar and collected his drink and Mattias ordered one of his own. Marshall and Pilar dragged another table to the one they had been sitting at and gathered more chairs for the newcomers. They stood around the tables and proposed toasts to Alby’s triumph. Mattias skulled his first pint in celebration, then turned the empty glass over his crown. Chairs were selected and butts and backs squirmed into the wood until their bodies were comfortable and relaxed.
“Hazel at work then?”
“Yep. Finishes at 8:30 I think.”
“She’s coming out after?”
“You’d hope so.”
“Good. We haven’t seen her in ages. Someone’s been hogging her.”
“You guys are still sexing like rabbits then?” said Mattias, overstretching the boundaries of civil discourse, as was his want.
Marshall laughed sheepishly and blushed. He tried to suppress it, but only succeeded in reddening even deeper. The others laughed as if they had sprung some hidden secret from him, making him blush ever more.
Fortuitously for Marshall, Zach’s sudden arrival drew the attention of the others away from him. They raised their glasses towards him and cheered as he walked into the room. Zach grinned and bowed deeply, driving the others to stand and applaud his arrival. The hum of conversations around the room hushed, and the heads of the other patrons turned towards them. Some recognised Zach and Alby and whispered between each other and tried to look discretely in their direction, while others remained nonplussed. Zach made his way over.
“Hey guys! I take it Alby’s told you already?” He took a chair and sat between Mattias and Marshall, who slapped him on the back in pride.
“It’s so awesome! Congratulations.”
“Thanks guys. It’s such a rush.”
“Are the other guys coming down?”
“They’ve gone home to tell their people. They’ll be down in a bit. And Donna is gonna try to close up a bit early.” He turned to Marshall. “Is Hazel coming?”
The others laughed. “Yeah, after work,” he mumbled. “Piers is coming down too.”
“Ah cool. So, who’s for pizza?”

They made the most of happy hour with a stream of $10 pizza-and-pints as the room started to fill with friends, strangers, students and barfly’s. As the minute hand neared the twelve they descended on the bar to stockpile drinks for the hard slog ahead. The central tables were mashed into bizarre shapes and the roster of patrons swelled until all the chairs were taken and the extras crowded the bar and the darkened corners of the room. Some leant forward intent on hearing and being heard above the din, while others seemed content to lean back and soak up the noise and laughter filling the room.
A dark-clad figure squeezed between two men leaning against the doorjambs and into the room. Stale beer, leather and wet carpet laced with the sweet smells from the kitchen hit her nostrils causing her face to curl. She scanned the room, squinting against the dull fluorescent lighting before pushing her way down the line of the bar, all the while keeping her eyes peeled for her friends. A hand reached out and grabbed her bicep. She turned towards her accoster and, recognizing the face of an acquaintance, stopped to exchange pleasantries. After a minute of obligatory back and forth she excused herself and continued her hunt.
A voice called her name above the hubbub and she turned in the direction it came from. Zach was slung low in his chair and resting a glass on his belly as he waved in her direction. She lifted her head in recognition and raised her arm in reply before apologising her way through conversations to emerge at the tables opposite Zach.
“Congratulations! It’s so exciting!” she said, leaning over the table.
Zach stood to receive her hug. “Thanks. It’s going to be fucking awesome.”
“I know. Do you know when you’re going and how long?”
“In March. Dunno for how long yet. See how much money we get from Merge and grants and shit.” The effects of the alcohol were noticeable to Hazel, but seemingly not to anyone else.
“It’d be great if you got to do some shows in New York or L.A. or something.”
“Shit-yeah!” He raised his glass. A tiny bit of beer sloshed over the side. “Whoops,” he said as he brushed it off his jeans.
Marshall turned from his conversation with Mattias, Piers and Yoshi- who had appeared as if an apparition from the night- on the couch, grinned widely and motioned for Hazel to come around and sit on his knee. She smiled, waved and blew a kiss, but laid claim to the seat just vacated next to Pilar instead. Marshall put on his hangdog face. Hazel laughed, but remained where she was. Pilar poked her tongue out at him. “Nerds smell,” she said and held her nose.
"Well, so do Darkies, so there."
She poked her tongue out at him again and turned to Hazel. “So how was work?”
“Oh you know; tiring.”
“Boss still giving you grief?”
“A bit. We weren’t too busy, so he had no reason to stress himself out and get on my back. He keeps rostering me on, so I must be doing something right. Anyway, how’s your night been?” Alby bought over a glass, filled it up with beer from a jug and placed it in front of her. He bent down and wrapped his arms around her neck. “Cheers. Congratulations.”
“Hi-ya” Alby giggled and waved the compliment away with an effete flick of the wrist before turning and wandering off to a new conversation.
“The night’s been fine. Got here early and had a chat with your scientist friend about the past. It was nice. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a proper conversation with him. I mean we’ve bantered a lot, but never really talked of serious stuff. I can see why you like him.”
“Ha. Yeah. Once you get past the whole nerd thing he’s great.”
“You’re so in loooove.”
“I don’t know about that…”
Pilar gasped. “You do! Hahaha!” she pointed at her mockingly.
“Shut up. You’ve made me blush.”
Pilar squealed with delight. “Let the mocking commence.”
“You can’t tell Marshall. Not that it’s true anyway…”
“I won’t tell him.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Or anyone else.”
“Not even Alby?”
“Definitely not Alby.”
“I have to tell Donna though.”
Hazel narrowed her eyes.
Marshall pulled himself out of the couch and came around the table to greet Hazel properly. She tilted her head to his kiss and he sat on her lap, propping his arm on the back of her chair to absorb some of his weight.
            “D’you have a good night?”
            “Meh. It was alright. Same old, same old. Not too busy, which was nice.”
            “Cool. So, we were just talking over there on the couch and I just want to know where you stand on something: would you dump me if I got the letters A, T and G tattooed on the back of my hand?”
            Hazel looked across at Pilar, who shrugged. “OK. I may regret this, but what the hell are you talking about?”
            “OK. Well, when cells make proteins, there needs to be some sign from the mRNA to tell the ribosomes to start making the protein. ATG is the code sequence that signifies this. So ATG literally means START! I think it’d be cool to have the code for START! tattooed on the back of my hand to remind me to get shit done.”
            “Marshall.” She turned her torso to face him front on and made sure he was looking her in the eye. Pilar gave a snort. “I have no idea what you just said, but it is undoubtedly the nerdiest thing you have ever said to me, ever.”
            “Thanks.”
            “That wasn’t a compliment. But to answer your question: no, I wouldn’t dump you for it. I would laugh and pour scorn on you, but I’d still stay with you all the same.”
            “Good. That’s all I wanted to know.”
            “OK. Get off now; your arse is bony.” She gave him a push and he duly stood up.
“You guys right for drinks then?”
They raised their glasses in confirmation, and Marshall wandered off to the bar pulling his wallet out of his jeans.

Their perception of time unravelled across the night. By the time last drinks were called it felt to the gathered as though barely an hour had passed, and yet the memory of conversations and deeds would only be restored across the coming days, and the implications thereof would last for weeks until all details were adequately unpicked and untangled. Seats had been traded and conversations entered and exited with fluidity until the borders of conversations could no longer be determined, and the focus of their attention for hours could have been any number of people or subjects. Topics serious, mundane, whimsical and frivolous had all been broached; characters had been invented, stereotypes mocked and existentialism theorised. It was one of those glorious nights where weapons are forgotten and guards lowered and the purest lines of thought and intention and enlightenment loom large above the throng and all one need do is reach up and take it.
When the house lights were switched on Alby and Pilar were entwined on the couch no longer aware of the goings-on around them; Mattias was propped against the bar commentating on the action on the couch with the rhythm section; Zach, Donna and Hazel were in passionate discussion with a group of three others about the quality of support for local young artists; and Marshall, Piers and Yoshi were pontificating on the current state of national political discourse.
They had to be hounded out of the pub and into the mild spring night; the staff unwilling to even consider the suggestion of a lock-in. Alby and Pilar untangled from each other and stood around shuffling their feet and trying not to arouse mocking looks from the others. Mattias disappeared westward on the arm of the drummer, while the bassist angled towards an invite back to some random girl’s flat. Donna huddled under Zach’s arm for warmth and affection, and a distinctly intoxicated Marshall leant on Hazel for support. Piers picked up the thread of an abandoned conversation with the Arts bureaucrat that had been talking with Zach, Donna and Hazel, while Yoshi disappeared without warning from whence he came.
The remnants formed a circle on the footpath and talked awkwardly yet amicably. While the reasons may have been different from person to person, not one of them wanted to be the one to break up the huddle or suggest the next move, unwilling to yet call it a night and open themselves up for mockery from the others.
Eventually Zach bit the bullet. Donna naturally took his arm and they took leave of their friends and started the short walk down the hill to Zach’s place. Alby was shifting his weight from foot to foot and peering out over everyone’s heads into his own little world, caught in two or three minds as to what course of action he should take. In the dark of the pub it seemed only naturally that he would hook up with Pilar, but here in the cold fluorescent light of the streetlamp his judgement was impaired by the eyes of his peers. Slowly the others left two-by-two like animals into an ark- Hazel back to Marshall’s, and Piers and Laura back to their own respective houses after the obligatory exchange of numbers, leaving Pilar and Alby gawping and bashful at their own fates.
They stood and laughed at each other for a minute, before Alby mustered the energy to lighten the mood by holding himself horizontal on a street sign pole and gradually lowering his body towards the ground through the softening of his grip. Pilar threatened to topple him by draping across his horizontal legs, causing him to panic and loosen his grip just that little bit too much. His shoulder and hip smacked simultaneously into the pavement and he rolled onto his back and lay prostrate with arms and legs spread out. His eyes were closed but the rapid bouncing of his chest gave away the resounding laughter to follow. His torso heaved and tears rolled from the corners of his eyes to salt-streak his temples. It was like a valve had been opened and the pressure released from the cylinder of his mind. He laid there, his laughing face cramping into a grimace.
As Alby regained his composure the muscles of his face relaxed and the skin hung plump and loose on his cheeks. He lay free and calm, the antithesis to his usual self. Pilar knelt laughing at him and that thing she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She peered curiously at his face, watching each tiny tic and flush trying to figure out what was going on behind what those eyelids hid. As he slowly opened them the whole veneer was laid bare.
They looked at each other as if for the first time. A new and different world had opened up in the space between them and they stared transfixed as it swirled and sparkled. They absorbed the essence of that world, until slowly and finally it evaporated into a mirage and a memory. They smiled, acknowledging. Alby chuckled lightly into his throat and Pilar lowered her mouth to his.
“Do you want to come back to mine?” Pilar asked.
Alby looked at her cagily. “Why?”
“Well, Donna and Zach are at yours, and Hazel’s gone back to Marshall’s, so my house is empty.”
Alby giggled for lack of anything witty or intelligent to say. Pilar stood slowly and pulled Alby to his feet. He straightened out his clothes and cleared his throat. She started walking towards home, and Alby followed like a puppy new to its lead.
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