Candice called herself Candy. She was blonde and slightly plump, 30, I guessed. Candy dragged her eyes from Al and smiled my way.

“I’m not interested in Al.” She purred, leaning over, whispering in my ear. “I know all about Al. You? I know nothing about.”

I introduced myself and bought Candice a drink. I began weighing Al’s mood as no one came his way.

The bouncer known as Tiny Tim made his way to our table and looked us all over. Tim was about 6’4″ and weighed roughly 300 pounds. He exchanged pleasantries with Al and glanced at Candice and then me. I guessed that I was the unknown that he was trying to guage.

After he left, Candice asked. “Do you think he’s tough?”

I answered honestly. “Haven’t a clue. Looks tough enough. “

“I went to his place once. He lives with his parents in the house he grew up in. In the bedroom he grew up in… He still has the wallpaper from when he was a boy; cowboys and Indians. His bed is still a single bed from when he was a boy! I couldn’t fucking believe it! Both his legs from his knees down are like jelly. Some kind of weird disease I don’t know. If you touched him in the shins, he would just crumble… He’s not tough at all… do you think you might like to fuck me.”

“Sure. If you don’t think Al or Tim would mind.”

“Let’s go to my place. I’m close.”

I looked at Al. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Either here or at the house…”

                            *******

I made my way back to Al’s before midnight and went to bed. I heard strange noises. It was a little after 3. I peaked out the bedroom door, and Al was standing in his underwear in the kitchen. He had a quart bottle of rum clutched in his right hand. He was half talking, half screaming with a guttural sound that came from his throat. He was staring at his ceiling. I would later find out that on the other side of his ceiling was the floor of the area where his son Mark sat listening to his father. Al kept repeating the same drunken mantra over and over and over again:

“I brought you into this world… and I can take you out… I will rip your throat out with my bare teeth…”

Then he would pound his fist with his left fist and repeat after swigging from his bottle.

“I brought you into this world… and I can take you out… I will rip your throat out with my bare teeth…”

I tried to go back to sleep with little success. I heard that mantra until sunrise.

It was a Friday somewhere in a 1980s, murky, distant past-darkness. I was 28.

I met Al’s son Mark through an ad in the paper. We agreed on rental terms for an apartment he was renting. However, it wouldn’t be ready before Monday.

I said, “It’s probably not going to work. I need a place now.”

Mark was a young and ambitious 28 year old man with a medium build and 5’8″ tall. He was one of those who seemed to have a solution for anything and everything.

He smiled. “Not  a problem. My father has a spare bedroom, and I’m sure he’ll rent it out for a couple of days until your unit is available. “

We went to his triplex, another of Mark’s properties. He lived on the 3rd floor. Al lived on the 2nd floor, and I didn’t know it at the time, but the 1st floor was empty and available.

Al and I agreed on terms, and he invited me out for a beer at some local dive down at Lansdowne and Bloor.

Al was from Malta, and he was about 60 and barrel chested. He told me he was once one of the most powerful men who ever lived. That was before all his teeth fell out with gum disease a couple of years previously.

“A month was all it took for them to all fall out… I’ve never really recovered. My once great looks gone like that.” Al snapped his chubby short fingers and took a swig from a bottle. He grimaced for a second and then smiled. “You’re still young and good-looking… We could make a great team, you and I.  The women will come over to see you, and I’ll just take the leftovers.”

I was having a difficult time keeping a straight face. So I decided to just go with it.

“So, I’m like the bait?”

“Exactly!”

Al’s smile seemed genuine this time. Not reptilian, like before. I couldn’t believe that he thought that I was going to be ok with this arrangement . Never had I met a man so full of himself; and so in love with his past. I began to weigh the possible dangers and inconveniences of such an arrangement against the potential entertainment value. I decided that it would be only 2 days when the first of the bar-flys came to the table and sat down and introduced herself to me. I could see Al smile through my perifrial.

“This is my roommate, Al.” I smiled…

I’ve been listening to the masses.

They be trying to bring me down.

I’ve been taking master classes.

Ever since the blues dropped into town.

They are talking about oppression.

Like, it’s shiny and brand new.

So much horror in that lesson.

That ironic cake to chew.

They are raging, eyes are blurry.

Tears they fall like April rain.

Going nowhere in such a hurry.

Like they just discovered pain.

I’ve been looking for a chorus.

That won’t break us into songs.

Maybe something just to bore us.

Take our rights back from the wrongs…

I was attracted by her beauty.

Even read the things she wrote.

In her diary of private thoughts.

She said I wouldn’t get her vote.

I feel no guilt or shaming.

Even if somehow I got caught.

Don’t care about your feelings.

Because I know you can be bought.

There’s a quiver in the ether.

A faint hint of rich fresh air.

I will use this little breather.

Just to plan and scheme and stare.

You said you wanted feelings.

With a longing for deep truth.

You said you wanted Superman.

He’s on a cellphone by the booth.

He said he doesn’t like you.

He’s not into girls no more.

We are living in a brand new world.

And I’m by the exit door.

I was broke at the beginning.

In the middle was just bent.

On the horizon is the ending.

And the kid was heaven sent.

All tallied, I owe nothing.

There are demons at the door.

And I sleep with peace descending.

No regrets or want for more.

The voices they were moving.

On the water and in the air.

In her head was far from soothing.

And your name was everywhere.

She was holding onto sanity.

By a needle and a thread.

Her thoughts? Not worth a mention.

Except some mumbled words were said.

Something  happened somewhere.

Was a child, and then she grew.

Lived in the pain of “that’s not fair.”

Then she set her eyes on you.

In the gravity of her attention.

You were savior on white horse.

For her, not worth a mention.

You just failed… of course. Of course.

All those tears, ‘not worth a mention.’

Because you know she has to cry.

Now that I have your full attention…

You can stay or wave bye-bye.

The bitter cold has lifted, the snowflakes melted wet.

The winds are more forgiving, we are huddled with feet set.

On ground as hard as clay now, under sky as white as bone.

We are humbled and forgiven, yet we feel so all alone.

Maybe it’s just the season, it might be something more.

We are waiting on deliverance, in that distance there’s a roar.