Page 68 - WTP VOl.VII#5

The Couch (continued from preceding page)
“Don’t sit there drinking beer and then refer to me in the same sentence that uses the words not help- ful, Russ. He’s making some good points, too. You should listen.”
“Maybe there’s room for me at Togus,” Russ laughed.
“Got to be an honorably discharged veteran, Russ, and you cannot claim that honor,” Lucien said.
“He’s right again,” Dominic said.
“With whatever Brown cost, plus the undergraduate, University of Memphis student loans, you’ve got the kind of debt that would land a man to prison in the Charles Dickens days. I guess you were born at the right time, in that sense, Russ. All I do is sleep in a car and drink. You’re a fucking thief.” Lucien said, enjoy- ing himself.
“Hardly,” Russ said.
“Good thing creditors can’t repo an education, huh?” Lucien continued. “The ol’ Ivy League hasn’t figured that one out yet. Look out when they do. But I’m an asshole for disengaging from everything, from soci- ety? For living rough?”
“You’re an alcoholic, Lucien,” Russ said. “You give a very impressive, high-minded statement, but a drunk is a drunk.”
“And you’re drinking with him,” Dominic pointed out. “He’s in the goddamned car, isn’t he, dad?”
“True,” Lucien allowed, “but that doesn’t mean I’m getting out of the car at Togus.”
“That would be a very poor decision,” Dominic said.
“Your son is a grand theft larceny thief of tax-backed education dollars, thumbing his nose, walking through life pretending to be upright, calling himself professor, being all fucking fancy, but I’m the one in this car who might make a bad decision?” Lucien laughed very hard, and then added, “Maybe so, I guess, Uncle Dom, but at least I’m not a fuckin’ fake.”
“I’m not fake, Lu,” Russ said somberly. “I’m a failure. Big difference.”
Lucien nodded. The two cousins, each experiencing a desire to punch the other in the face, clicked their beer cans in a bitter toast instead. Lucien said, “You have zero friggin’ standing to criticize my life.”
“I agree, so maybe declare victory and move on,” Russ 61
said.
“Fine,” Lucien replied. A smirk was nearly hidden by his facial hair, but visible enough for Russ to notice. To him, the smirk seemed a challenge, one that Russ knew he should not accept, but he also thought that not responding would be out of character for a day already drowning in negativity. It was too late to stop now.
“How much of nearly being homeless do you attri- bute to mental illness, I wonder?” Russ asked. “Put- ting aside your rejection of society and consumerism and everything else.”
“Homelessness in general, or are you asking for my particular situation?”
“The specific.”
“You think I’m mentally ill? If you think society sucks and decide to drink instead, giving up on the fool’s game, then you’ve got to be fucking bonkers?”
“I was simply asking the question, but as an observer, I’d have to think that all the fuck-society, sleeping- in-Skylark population, however many there are, you included. A good many of them, in the aggregate, are pretty depressed, and that depression had to have factored into their decisions. People don’t decide to live like that when feeling peachy keen about their lives, don’t you think?”
“What I think is that you fucking think I don’t know what aggregate means,” Lucien growled. “I didn’t just peel radishes in the navy, you know. My job required math. Lots of it.”
Russ knew he shouldn’t laugh but, at the very least, the smirk had vanished from his cousin’s face. His father turned around, glaring into the backseat, re- minding Russ of similar moments from childhood; but this time they were all grown men, and Russ was de- pressed himself, with a strong beer buzz coming on, so before his father could remonstrate them, he laughed at that, too. Russ felt terrible, but he laughed hard.
“Let’s keep everything copasetic in here,” Dominic said, more a plea than his usual command.
“Where was officer friendly there when I was calling you grand larceny thief?” Lucien said to Russ.
“I know, right?”
Dominic turned around again. “Too bad you weren’t a veteran, Russ, because I’d drop the both your asses off at Togus. Listening to you two is pathetic. So, if