RETORT MAGAZINE ISSN 1445_7164 - NEW ART & LITERATURE 2008

Published Monday August 25, 2008

Literature by
John Grochalski
© John Grochalski 2008

Stolen Bench

Caitlyn Fitzgerald noticed that the lime green wall had begun to fray. Cracks wove up and down the concrete. On her bedpost, Caitlyn saw a thin layer of green dust. It was paint residue. The dust scattered below the bed, mixing with her dirty underwear and keepsakes. Behind the wall was the bathroom. Haley, Caitlyn’s roommate, was singing old Doc Watson songs in the shower. But why was she thinking about the walls? It was only after Karl had come, and the interior of Caitlyn’s asshole burned and constricted in defense, that she remembered what she was doing. She was ignoring the stress and tedious pain of anal fucking, the sexual horror that was involved in being the girlfriend of Karl Rudolph. But it was only for now.
“Hold on,” Karl said, panting, the moment he felt Caitlyn resist against the sex. “Let me ease it out.” Caitlyn bit her bottom lip and refocused on the wall. “That wasn’t so bad this time, huh? I think we used enough lube. Or else you’re just getting used to me.”
“Do you think Haley heard us?” Caitlyn asked, after collapsing on her stomach.
“Oh I totally doubt it. We weren’t too loud. Plus we had the music on.”
Caitlyn turned toward her stereo. It was resting on a stack of cardboard boxes. She remembered that the sun had been out before they started to fuck, but it had gone away now that they were finished. Caitlyn never got to come. The first song they played wasn’t even over yet.
Caitlyn reached on her nightstand for a cigarette. She gave Karl one, and the two of them smoked in silence. They listened as Haley finished showering.
“That Haley sure is a nut,” Karl said, resting his back against the green wall. “Has he found a job yet?”
“He hasn’t worked all summer. He just lives off his old student loans, and sleeps most of the day away. Jim said he found Haley in the dining room at four in the morning. His eyes were closed. Haley had a big bowl of cereal in front of him.”
Karl laughed. “Man, that’s totally funny! You guys have an absolute lunatic for a roommate! It’s going to suck to move away from here.”
Caitlyn contemplated her roommates. “I guess.”
“Where is Jim today?”
“Don’t know.”
“Man, we should totally do something with him and Hannah tonight!”
Karl got out of bed. He put on his underwear and pants, and a paint-splattered t-shirt. Caitlyn turned slowly to watch him, the middle of her body still sore. Secretly she hated his thin frame, how formless Karl was. He was smaller than Caitlyn, almost breakable, like a deviant little boy. She hated being naked in front of him. Even Karl’s cock was like a child’s. It was wilted and small, and almost hairless around the groin area. He couldn’t satisfy Caitlyn with it. They had to resort to fingers and dirty talk to get Caitlyn off. But Karl was no damned good at dirty words as well. So Caitlyn resorted to imagining actors or ex-lovers, her co-workers, as Karl slid his fingers in and out. Then they’d fuck. Karl complained that Caitlyn’s cunt was too big for him. He claimed he couldn’t feel anything, and that embarrassed her to no end. So Caitlyn allowed Karl to fuck her in the ass sometimes, as sexual compensation.
“Why do you want to drag Jim and Hannah into this?” Caitlyn finally said. “You’ve barely seen them all summer. Why should we all do something?”
“I don’t know. We should do something, that’s all.”
Caitlyn frowned. She put her cigarette out, and then sat up in bed slowly. Her ass throbbed from the push and pull of sex. “What did you have in mind?”
“We could get a case of beer or something, and go over to the church courts to shoot hoops and hang out.”
“Karl, you do that every night. And you’re terrible at Basketball.”
“Maybe we could break into the church?” Karl offered. “We could just walk around and hang out in the weird darkness.”
“I’m not breaking into a church.”
“You Catholics and your morals,” Karl said. He shook his head, giggling. Karl drummed into the air with quick, spastic motions.
“It’s an Episcopal church, not Catholic,” Caitlyn said, angrily. “And I’m not moral…not by a long shot. I just don’t feel like breaking and entering.”
“We could steal something outside the church. Like one of those marble benches they have. Jim and I could walk it right across the street, and put it on the porch while you and Hannah supervise. That would be totally crazy.”
“The whole idea sounds stupid.”
Karl’s face darkened. Caitlyn curled into herself. She remembered the time Karl fought with her over film directors. They were at a party full of his friends, playing a simple goddamned trivia game. Karl was drunk. Caitlyn got the name of some teen comedy director wrong, and all hell broke loose. Karl shouted at her. He belabored the point even after she admitted her mistake. Some people laughed and kept drinking. They knew Karl. He was the holy goof of their scene. What a farce his scene was, Caitlyn had thought. She pushed Karl and tried to leave. But he grabbed her arm. It took nearly all of Karl’s strength to knock her down. Then he had to be restrained by his friends, as Caitlyn picked herself up. She was glad she didn’t cry in front of those people.
“Karl,” Caitlyn said, rising. She draped herself over his shoulders. “I’m sorry. When Jim and Hannah get home, we’ll see what they’re up to tonight, okay? And then maybe tomorrow you can help me pack up this room some more, and we can go and rent a truck for Saturday.”
Karl broke free and rose. He turned up the music. The passionless voice of the singer vibrated off of the walls. “I just don’t see what’s so fucking great about New York anyway.”
Then the night came. It was sweltering and black. There was a knock on the door downstairs. Karl. He’d left hours earlier, mad at life, mad at Jim and Hannah, and mad at Caitlyn for not accepting another round of the rough sex he wanted to have. She listened as Haley stopped playing his guitar to answer. His slow drawl was brightened by Karl’s giggles. Caitlyn wished that Haley would let Karl knock forever. But he didn't have a clue. Karl was a Goodtime Charley to Haley. He couldn't see the skeletal brute beneath Karl's baggy bohemian garb.
“Oh, hey.” Karl came in without knocking. He set a case of beer on the bed.
“You're drunk, aren't you?”
“I was at the Cage with Bill and Hank for a few hours. One thing led to another and....”
“Right.” Caitlyn opened the case and took out a beer. She twisted off the top, and took a good pull on the sweating green bottle. Then Caitlyn walked across the room to continue packing. Karl just stood there looking drunk and dumb.
“So did you get in touch with Jim?” he asked.
“Didn't see him.”
“Man.” Karl drummed on his chest and wandered around Caitlyn's room. He examined the budding shell of it. “What do we do now?”
“You could help me pack.”
“Everybody's a total drag this evening.”
“We have things to do.”
“I have fucking things to do too, Caitlyn!” Karl pounded across the room to get a beer. Caitlyn’s body tightened when he neared her. “How much of this shit do you have left?”
“I have to sweep the floor. I have to scrub down the walls. I have to...”
“Boring.”
“What do you know, anyway? You still live with your mother.”
“Am I not man enough for you? Like all those boys you fucked in college?”
“Karl.”
“You're such a critic. You don't know shit about shit.” Karl took a long pull on his beer. “You act like you're the only one that's been to New York. Hell, I've been to New York so many times the place bores me. You're so stupid; the culture will probably be lost on you. I can just see you in the White Horse, looking at all of those pictures of Dylan Thomas, wondering who the fuck he is.”
Caitlyn held back the tears. She didn't want to waste them on someone as trivial and weak as Karl. He was a spineless child, and she'd only have to suffer this one last evening with him. Serenity suddenly took hold of her. She calmed down. Caitlyn drank the rest of her beer and opened another. She got up. She grabbed some of her writing, and tossed it all into a cardboard box. Karl watched the action. He looked around the sparse remains of the bedroom, looking like a lost child.
“I'm sorry, Caitlyn,” he said, softly.
“It’s okay.” It was a mistake, but she touched Karl’s arm. “Truthfully I don't really have much left to do. Why don't we take the case of beer over to the basketball court and hang out for a while?”
“We should totally leave a message for Jim and Hannah to meet us over there.”
“Yeah, let's do that.”
So they played basketball. At least Karl did. Jim and Hannah never came over to the courts, and the night grew darker for Caitlyn. The sound of the vibrating basketball rim became more ominous as Karl’s anger rose. What could Caitlyn do but drink and smoke cigarettes, and ponder the future and contemplate the past? She thought a lot about Karl. Caitlyn thought about how he’d gone from this harmless smiling hipster, the skinny boy who’d seduced her on their first date with his kindness and understanding, to the frail monster of her worst nightmares. Karl became Caitlyn’s brutal symbol for a dating life of wrong turns, deadbeats, and absolute dead ends. He was jealousy personified. How did it happen?
“Where in the hell are they?” Karl said. He retrieved a final rebound and tucked the ball under his arms. He walked over to where Caitlyn was sitting, on a speed bump, near the end of the court.
“I don’t know.”
Karl kicked the basketball angrily across the court. It smacked against the side of the church, and dribbled on the pavement. Then it rolled away into the blackness beyond the streetlights.
“Feel better?” Caitlyn asked.
“I feel like shit. This night is so fucking lame! We totally need to do something to redeem it.”
“Want to go drink at the Cage?”
“Alcohol is your answer for everything.” Karl laughed. Then he took a long pull on his beer.
“Very cute.”
He finished off his beer quickly. Then he wound up like a pitcher, and let the bottle go careening off of the side of the church. Glass shattered everywhere.
“That’s a church!” Caitlyn scolded.
“Yeah, but not a catholic one. Remember?”
Karl went to fetch the ball. He was gone for a while. Caitlyn lit another cigarette and pondered how the remaining months in Pittsburgh would’ve gone down had she never met Karl at the Cage. Those months certainly would’ve been a lot easier. They would’ve been less violent and full of less bullshit. She supposed they would’ve been a lot less exciting as well. She grabbed another beer.
“Can you help?” Karl called, from the black distance.
“Help with what?”
Just then the peak of his head re-appeared in the streetlight. His face was red with stress. Karl was pulling a stone bench. He had it on an incline, his spindly arms barely keeping the slant. The noise of polished marble scraping concrete was so loud Caitlyn feared it would draw a neighbor into calling the cops.
“Oh Jesus Christ!” she said.
“Quit praying and help,” Karl said, panting.
Caitlyn rose. “Put the bench down.”
Karl set the bench down in the middle of the basketball court. He walked over to Caitlyn. He grabbed another beer and had a good pull on it. Karl went back over to the bench and sat on it. “Fuck, Jim!” He wiped away a trail of beer from his chin. “We don’t need him. I figure this bench is light enough that you and I can get it across the street.” He looked around. “It’s too dark for anyone to see us anyway.”
“What about the steps leading up to the house?” Caitlyn said. “They’re steep.”
“Does this mean you’re in?”
“No. I’m humoring you.”
“I don’t see why we can’t have any fun together?”
Caitlyn rose. She wandered over to the bench with two more beers, and sat down next to Karl. She stroked his leg with whatever affection she had left. Together they sat in silence for a while. All around them Squirrel Hill was abuzz with joyous people hitting the bars and coffee shops on Forbes and Murray Avenues. It was a humid, glowing city night. Caitlyn and Karl drank their beers. She thought about the bench. It would be a fitting end; one last fool scheme capping off an idiotic set of months together.
“Can you bring the bench soon enough?” Caitlyn asked. She regretted saying it.
Karl’s eyes brightened. “Oh totally! I can get Jim to help me before he starts moving!”
“Karl.”
“Alright, I’ll cal my brother after you’re packed and gone.”
“Okay,” Caitlyn answered, softly. They finished off their beers. Then Caitlyn rose off the bench. She felt a little drunk. She felt determined. Caitlyn felt unsure of her entire life.
Karl jumped up from the bench. He threw another bottle toward the church. The glass shattered. A dog barked. “Grab an end!”
Caitlyn kicked the remaining beer bottles away. She grabbed an end of the bench. Karl did the same. The two of them heaved and grunted from the weight of it. They began slowly moving toward the end of the basketball court, swaying from the booze and the physical exertion. They were a sight. Karl kept laughing with glee, but Caitlyn wanted to cry. The amber-lit stretch of Forbes Avenue was only yards away, and she was panting by the time they reached the avenue. Together they set the bench down and fell on it to rest.
“I love you,” Karl said. He wiped his brow with a yellowing bandana.
“Don’t say that,” Caitlyn snapped. “Let’s not confuse the moment.”
“It’s true though.” Karl wiped his brow again and they rose to grab the bench.
They waited out an empty Port Authority bus, and a car full of teenagers, blasting bass into the night, before successfully crossing the street. Caitlyn and Karl carried the bench to the slanting edge of concrete that lead up to the steps. They looked like a rigid mountain of cracked and crumbling concrete. The steps were dangerous when sober and not carrying a bench. They set it down again. Caitlyn collapsed on it. Karl ran back across the street to retrieve the basketball and the case of beer.
“One more hurdle,” he said, sitting down. Karl opened two beers. “Just those steps and we’re home free.”
“We sure are.” Caitlyn answered, sleepily. She sipped her beer. The warm booze flowed down her throat.
It took them a long time. They argued and threatened each other. But somehow Karl and Caitlyn got the bench up the steps. They drunkenly heaved that slab of etched marble up twenty-two steps with little more than a few scratches and stomach sickness from mixing alcohol and work.
Caitlyn sat on the bench. She watched Forbes Avenue move below her. Soon it would all be a memory, she thought. Karl fell in beside Caitlyn. He bent his head like he was ill. What if he gets sick? Caitlyn wondered. He can’t stay here tonight.
Suddenly Karl got up off the bench. He walked a few feet away, and vomited all over a thin strip of lawn. He lifted his head once, to smile at Caitlyn. Then Karl got sick again. This is just a memory, Caitlyn thought. Just one more goddamned memory before she could learn to forget. Slowly Caitlyn rose from the bench and walked back down the steps to retrieve the beer and the basketball. Karl heaved again. Another dog barked and a few crickets chirped. Someone turned on a porch light. Pittsburgh began to fade away at its edges.
“I feel like shit!” Karl called down to Caitlyn. “Can I stay here tonight?”
“No,” she answered, walking back up the steps.
“That’s so fucking lame of you. I’m coming back here to help you tomorrow, anyway. And to return this damn bench. But you won’t let me crash. Christ.”
“You don’t have to help me.” Caitlyn took a pull on a new beer and sat back down on the bench. “I have Jim and Hannah and Haley here. Plus a few friends are coming over from Bloomfield. You can go home and sleep it off, then come back and get the bench tomorrow night.”
Karl wiped his mouth and came over toward the bench. “That’s not the point at all. I was hoping we could have one last night together.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You’re such a callous bitch!” Caitlyn began walking toward the front door. “Wait!” Karl shouted. He grabbed Caitlyn’s arm, roughly.
“What?”
But Karl had nothing to say. He just felt the pasty stretch of her arm, and then let her go. Rejected and drunk, Karl walked back over to the bench and sat down. He began crying in loud, uncontrolled torrents. Caitlyn couldn’t believe her eyes. The pathetic sight got the best of her. It stripped away the thick layers of contempt she had. Caitlyn walked over to the bench and sat down. She put a hand on Karl’s back and began rubbing. He raised his head and the two of them kissed. The stench of vomit was horrid. Soon they both fell along the bench kissing, and tugging, and pulling on one another out in the open air of the night.
“Let’s go to your room,” Karl said, rising off of Caitlyn.
“No.”
“Come on.” He grabbed Caitlyn’s arm and the two of them rose off of the bench. They staggered into the dark house.
Inside Caitlyn’s room they continued to kiss. Eventually they were both naked. Karl tasted terrible, Caitlyn thought. His breath reeked of vomit and alcohol. Karl’s body tasted of old sweat, and his cock was stale with traces of urine and condom lubricant. Caitlyn wanted to wretch when she took him into her mouth. But she quickly did away with the feeling. Caitlyn sucked Karl’s cock rhythmically and without care, as he moaned and pressed his hands into her scalp.
“Get on your stomach,” Karl said.
“Oh no,” Caitlyn answered. “We’re not doing that tonight. We stole your bench. That was my gift to you.”
Karl giggled but still reached under the bed to get the jar of petroleum jelly they had hidden there. When Caitlyn saw the jar of yellow goop, she did little for herself but sigh. She got on all fours.
“I was thinking,” Karl said. He unscrewed the cap on the petroleum jelly jar. Caitlyn could hear him sticking his hands in the stuff. Karl took two fingers and shoved them between Caitlyn’s ass cheeks. He greased the inside with the petroleum jelly. He dipped his fingers in the jar a second time. Karl inserted a finger deep inside Caitlyn’s asshole to lubricate it as well. “I was thinking that maybe once you get to New York, I’d come for a visit.”
“I guess that would be nice,” Caitlyn answered. Her voice was tense, awaiting the painful whole of him. She moaned as the finger swirled around her.
Slowly Karl rose until pressed against the back of he ass. Karl spread Caitlyn’s cheeks, and then guided his cock in. He was bareback. Caitlyn moaned, as a kaleidoscope of pain, dark pleasure, and disappointment hit her.
“But then I was thinking,” he continued. “If I came to New York enough, I could probably find myself a job there, you know?”
Karl thrust his body. Caitlyn grunted. She grabbed a hold of the sheets, and bit her lip as he began thrusting harder and harder. The lime green wall in front of Caitlyn became her focal point. Everything else was behind her now, almost a memory. She saw it all for what it was. Caitlyn felt nothing. She heard no sound.
“Maybe I could move there. Tell me that wouldn’t beat all.” Karl began fucking Caitlyn’s ass with mindless excitement. “I bet Jim would lose his shit when he found out!”
Caitlyn said nothing. She just bent her head. She was deaf. The night was ending; it was all going black. Soon, she thought. She gazed at the frayed green wall, and the specks of dust on the bedpost. Haley began playing his guitar in his bedroom. Soon it would all be just a memory.