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…

They said “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

“Nonsense!” I replied.

I have mastered online banking.

For my next trick I will attempt to endure suffering without complaint.

My biscuits take on butter and my coffee takes on cream.

I’m bored with modern culture, and here I hold the scream.

I am curious and embarrassed to wonder what is next.

Like all anticipation when I’m waiting for her text.

She loves me but I’m doubtful, I know she has a fear.

I’m thinking about dying and there’s nothing quite that clear.

In a world of hope and wonder, there is something almost sad.

Like narcissists self importance when only mirrors are the fad.

I couldn’t keep a straight face.

Oh the smiles had to fall.

That was such a tragic story.

How you suffered for us all.

You walked with Christ and Buddha.

Don’t know how you found the hours.

All those burdens you did overcome.

And still had time to smell the flowers.

I am basking in your glory.

If I dare to stand that tall.

Be careful with that next step.

And that Pride before the fall.

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…

The sun passed moving shadows.

The shadows hid your flaws.

Hid is to strong a word.

At least it gave them pause.

I was contemplating something.

That might cause you to grin.

Thought of nothing short of self harm.

Or just once, take it on the chin.

I left you on a park bench.

And I swear I saw a tear.

It was such a perfect silhouette.

Not one could be its peer.

I left looking for some action.

Up the road in Korea town.

She had that look of satisfaction.

Said, “I won’t let you down.”

They were waltzing in the shadows.

They passed me there by chance.

I was in transition…

They were lovers lost in dance.