I slumped while we walked so she’d know she could stop talking now! She always uses personal anecdotes in her lectures to me and I already get it! She said lonely fights reminded her of when she was in grade seven and a prison guard came and screamed at her entire class for an hour to stay out of prison. Exactly! I said. Even though I didn’t know what she was talking about. Also, Grandma told me that there were one or two Raptors who were more concerned about individual stats but Mom doesn’t know that. We held hands on the way home. She put my hand on her stomach to feel Gord. She asked me if I wanted to tell Gord something—which was so stupid. Like maybe if I was two years old. Swiv, say Hi Gord! She told me when she was a really little kid she’d ask Grandma, Hey what’s for supper? I’m starving to death! And Grandma was always super busy working or talking on the phone with her friends so she’d say, Hey here’s a couple of bucks, go to Pete’s Inn for a hamburger! Then Mom would walk by herself to Pete’s Inn on Main Street in their fascist little shit town and sit all by herself in this giant red leatherette booth and order one plain hamburger with nothing on it except ketchup, and an Orange Crush. She’d still have money left over for a tip and an Oh Henry! bar for dessert that she would eat slowly while she walked home and often when she got home Grandma would still be on the phone whooping it up. I asked Mom if that was a lonely fight and she said no, it was cool, she loved it, as long as she didn’t bump into Willit Braun. She’d rather go out of her way and walk a hundred miles or even crawl a hundred miles or even crawl a hundred miles with a four-hundred-pound wild animal on her back than bump into Willit Braun. What about five hundred miles with a killer shark clamped onto your head with its teeth so you couldn’t even see where you were going? Mom said yep, she’d rather walk eight hundred miles with the shark clamped onto her head and seven hundred rats gnawing at every part of her skin than bump into Willit Braun. Mom did these stretching exercises while we walked. She called them lunges. She pushed against buildings and light-posts like she was trying to knock them over. She said she was doing it to strengthen her uterus and her vaginal wall, and because that’s what actors do. Do it with me, Swiv! No! I said. I don’t have all that shit. You don’t have a uterus and a vaginal wall? she asked me. I walked away while she was pushing as hard as she could against the corner of Nova Era bakery because I don’t want to just stand beside her while she does weird things like I’m in support of it. She was almost lying down, and taking up the whole sidewalk, and people had to go all the way around her.
When we got home Grandma was playing Solitaire on her computer. She was so happy to see us. Oh good, you’re home! She slammed the lid down on her computer and stood up beside the table. She began to laugh in the way that means something hilarious had happened to her that day and she was going to tell us what it was as soon as she could stop laughing. We just have to stand there and wait. Sometimes Mom gets impatient and stomps off upstairs and says she’ll be back in a minute, which she never is. But today Mom was in a good mood from helping me understand life by frustrating me and she stood beside me and smiled and waited with me for Grandma to stop laughing so she could talk. Finally Grandma said okay, listen, do you know how old my friend Wilda and her husband Dieter are? I shook my head and Mom said, Um, eighty? Older! said Grandma. They’re almost centurions, for heaven’s sake! Then Grandma told us this awful story, that she thought was a riot, about arriving with her friends at Wilda and Dieter’s place and ringing the doorbell and nobody coming to the door, and then all of them going right in, and still nobody coming to say oh hi, you’re here, and then walking further in to the kitchen and hearing moaning which they thought for sure was Wilda or Dieter or both of them simultaneously dying because of their age, and then going into the bedroom and seeing Wilda and Dieter in flagrante delicto on their love seat. I said, No! I wasn’t sure what I was hearing. Mom said oh my god, that’s amazing! Isn’t it?! said Grandma. That was the last thing I heard.
A little while later Mom knocked on my door and said come and eat! I went downstairs thinking it was safe, but no. Grandma and Mom were still talking about it. Grandma said, Oh good, Swiv, you’ve joined the land of the living! Mom asked Grandma if she remembered this time a million years ago when she had given Mom a big gift basket with champagne and fancy cheese and crackers and flowers and sausage and other things to take with her to that cabin in the woods where she was going to lose her virginity with whatshisname. I did, didn’t I!? said Grandma. And a card, said Mom. Like sort of a congratulations card with love and best wishes and all that! said Mom. I was sixteen! Can you not talk about this anymore? I said. Nobody better be giving me a gift basket when I’m sixteen. Grandma said, Oh, c’mon, Swiv! It’s sex! So what! Big deal! Mom was laughing and putting her head way back. I worried about Gord. You’ll miscarry Gord! I said. Mom and Grandma laughed harder. I put a pillow on Mom’s stomach and they laughed even harder, like demons. I wanted to punch them both in the face and run away from home. Okay, okay, okay, said Grandma. Swiv, I apologize for upsetting you but—she started laughing again. Oh, c’mon, Swiv, said Mom. It’s not a terrible thing, I mean it was with whatshisname, but generally it’s a beautiful—