Storymania - The Cold, Bitter Taste Of Gin by Darcy K Metz

The Cold, Bitter Taste Of Gin
Darcy K Metz

“The best thing I’ve ever done,” thought Charlie to himself, “was buying my cabin and boat.” The Cabin was a semi-rustic home away from home in that it had electricity and plumbing, but relied on a wood fired stove in the centre of the cabin for heating. The kitchen and living area were open, with a vaulted ceiling and a 1970’s decor that Charlie found to be too nostalgic of his youth to warrant any redecorating. The master bedroom is where he slept most of the time, although he would often find himself retiring to one of the bunk beds in what was once a child’s bedroom. The super hero wallpaper of Shazam, a cartoon Charlie remembers watching, was irreplaceable. The windows from the kitchen and living room had a wonderful view of Lakelse Lake and the dock leading to his boat, the Virginia Watson. The boat came with the cabin and Charlie had no idea where the name came from but he was sure there must be an unforgettable story behind that.

Charlie’s days off of work from the pulp mill in Kitimat, British Columbia was mainly spent out at the cabin during the months from May to October. Charlie worked rotating 12 hour shifts which involved two twelve hour day shifts followed by two twelve hour night shifts and then 4 days off. The schedule was nice, taking a weeks vacation gave him 12 days off at a time. After just ten years working for Eurocan, Charlie had four weeks off a year in addition to banked overtime. It was a dreadfully easy lifestyle to become accustomed to, and ideal for those who enjoy a good income and all of life that comes from that. The fact Charlie found the work menial or unstimulating was beside the point, he was already far better off financially than any of his friends he went to college with. “How many college drop outs make 85,000 a year,” is what he often told himself in those moments. Those moments like now, when he felt most alone unsatisfied, unfulfilled and generally unhappy.

It was now mid June and already the weather had been hot. Charlie poured himself an ounce of Bombay Sapphire gin over ice and filled the glass with tonic water, added a lime wedge and walked out onto the deck. The sun would be going down soon, and Charlie loved sitting out on the deck watching the sunset, cold gin and tonic in hand with Leonard Cohen singing from speakers set just above him. Leonard Cohen or Radiohead, sometimes even Tom Waits, that’s what Charlie always opted for when he felt like this. Wallowing. Apathetic. Unnecessary. Insignificant. Empty.

Charlie laid back in the deck chair, the song Closing Time playing from the stereo, and he took a sip from the glass in hand. He felt the taste of the gin somewhat ironic, cold and bitter but intensely satisfying. Was that irony? Charlie couldn’t remember, and didn’t care to do so. Gin and tonic, specifically the brand Bombay Sapphire was a mainstay in his life from the first time he drank some, and the first time he met Tracy. That was back when Charlie was living in Kamloops. Tracy, it had been almost ten years since he last saw Tracy. The day he first met her, or mainly what he felt when he first saw her were fossilized into his unconscious. She was like a light, no a flame, hell no - a blowtorch in Charlie's meager existence at the time.

It was the fall of 1998 and Charlie had dropped out of college earlier in the year. He spent the summer months traveling about the province working as a treeplanter. The mental challenge of that work was more than he was prepared for and increased the depth of his sense of meaninglessness and failure. In September he got a minimum wage job at a consumer electronics store that his friend and roommate James worked at. Charlie met James and his girlfriend Cindy a few years before at college and had been roommates with them before. Day to day Charlie coasted by, his mind making as much sense as a detuned radio. If it wasn’t for his roommates, for whom Charlie regarded as family, well they were the primary supply of what happiness he did feel. One particular Saturday evening in November his roommates invited a few friends of theirs from high school over to visit with a friend of theirs who they had went to school with, but had not seen in some time as she had been living in Whistler. Charlie was looking forward to the evening, as he was a mutual friend with many of his roommates’ friends.

The evening had started out like any other; there were Charlie and his roommates and one of his roommates' friends, Cheryl. The four of them had been drinking and eating for an hour or so when the doorbell rang. James went to the door and could be heard greeting someone joyously. The new guest arrived in the living area and was exchanging greetings with her old friends when James said, “Tracy, this is our roommate Charlie.” Charlie stood up and shook her hand saying something profound like “Pleased to meet you,” but there was something more to it, when he met her eyes he experienced something quite new. Confusing Charlie found this to be, of course Tracy was an attractive woman, but it was more than just he checking out her looks. Did he feel something? What could he feel, really? - He never met this woman before.

For the remainder of the evening Tracy and Charlie talked about many things with their mutual friends, but they always found one another smiling and something just felt very different about this woman to him. Tracy left after a few hours and that night after he went to bed, Charlie was unable to sleep the entire night. Two days later on a Monday morning Charlie was at work sorting through the new shipment of stock for the store. He was going through the stock list when he heard, “Hi Charlie, is James at work today?” Charlie turned his head and an immediate surge of adrenaline filled his body, it was Tracy! “No, sorry he’s off today,” Charlie replied.

“Oh, that’s too bad I’m heading back to Whistler, I just wanted to say good-bye,” Tracy smiled and Charlie was sure the store was far too warm, “But tell him I stopped bye. And I’ll see you next time I’m in town. Bye Charlie.”

“Ya, uh no problem. See you later Tracy.” finished Charlie. “What was that all about?” Charlie asked himself, confused yet also elated.

The glass was already empty but Charlie anticipated such an event. At his side was a cooler well stocked with the necessities for his evening: gin, ice, tonic water and precut lime wedges. Well, no shot glass nearby, so he poured what looked like closer to three ounces into his glass. Charlie raised the glass at eye level to view the meniscus as if he were reading the volume from an Erlenmeyer flask back in Chemistry 101. Charlie grabbed a lime wedge, and remembered why he had precut them, the scar on his left index finger also served as a permanent flash card.

Another November, another year in a different town with different friends, two years ago, November 2005, a typical Friday night in Kitimat. Charlie had his own house that he shared with a roommate. This made life easy, someone who wasn’t a wife to pay half the bills. Charlie’s roommate was away on a deer slaughter trip with his family to the Queen Charlotte Islands, so Charlie was up for entertaining. Actually he was just going to head out to the bar with a few friends but they would start at his place. Two of his work buddies from Terrace, a town 45 minutes from Kitimat, were coming out and the plan was for them to crash at Charlie's that night. His coworker Terry from Terrace had become one of Charlie’s good friends over the past few years at work, and his female friend from Kitimat, Christine, he loved like a sister.

The night was going good, Charlie, Terry, Christine and a few others were drinking and gabbing and listening to Terry’s usual mix of House music. The night was going too good, Charlie was feeling great and the gin and tonics were going down much faster than his organs could process. Charlie was in the kitchen gathering the ingredients and implements for his elixir when it happened so fast. The knife was intended to cut through lime, but showed it could go through a finger equally well. In one clean pass a two centimeter gaping cut opened up and leaked fast. Surprising how the sight of blood can change the mood of a party. Many people offered many different solutions, but Charlie had no intention of spending hours at the hospital waiting to get a few sutures. So direct pressure won the battle and the house music continued it’s repetitive gait, and the alcohol continued to flow and attempt digestion. The rest of the night was a piecemeal amalgamation of flashbacks and memories triggered by others reminding Charlie of what went down.

Everyone left the house and went to the Kitimat Hotel, the local bar where everyone goes. Charlie was drunk and happy and telling people at the bar to come to his place afterwards for a party. Many patrons expressed interest and claimed they would show up. Later, Charlie and his friends from before found their way back to his house, waiting for others to arrive. Time went by, drinks were had, and very few showed up informing Charlie and friends that the local cocaine entrepreneurs were hosting a get together. That’s Kitimat for you. Two of Charlie’s guest’s were sitting on the freezer making out and were soon known to have taken a cab elsewhere. It was down to Charlie, Terry and Christine, and Charlie and Terry got in an argument over something and Terry then drove home to Terrace at 4:00 am or so. Charlie then ended up explaining feelings and despair over someone to Christine. Some days later, to his embarrassment, Christine told Charlie that he spent part of that night crying in her arms.

The song New World Order from Ministry surprised Charlie. He wasn’t used to a CD changer as the one at his house only played single discs. Ministry was just a tad to aggressive for the way Charlie was feeling right now. In fact, he forgot what CD’s were actually in there. Luckily he had the remote control at his side too. Charlie pressed the “Skip Disc” button and waited. And a Song began, “I’m an alligator, I’m a mamma pappa coming for you, I’m a space invader, I’ll be a rockin rollin bitch for you,” Moonage Daydream, from the album Ziggy Stardust by David Bowie. One of Charlie’s all time favorite CD’s. He was 26 when he first got the CD on his birthday in Kamloops way back in 1999, and the Halloween party in which he listened to it many times over.

The events of that party and who was there and who was dressed as what are not that important, although there was definitely a Blair Witch Project theme going on, and a priceless Indiana Jones. Charlie remembers his costume too well, a sort of gay construction worker, and right out of the Village People.

“When Tracy comes to the party, I’m not gonna spend much time talking to her like I did at the wedding in the summer. Just can’t do it, what’s the point.” Those were Charlie’s thoughts to himself earlier in the day, but when the costume party was in full effect, he forgot all about those thoughts. The night was like other nights when Tracy visited; they spent a lot of the time talking to one another. Eventually people left to go to the bar and Tracy and Charlie stayed behind at the house. The Ziggy Stardust CD was playing on repeat in the CD player. Talking led to kissing and expression of a mutual attraction that was more than physical. For the first time in his life, amidst the day-to-day depression and self hate, Charlie felt happy and forgot about everything. For the first time ever, Charlie’s mind cleared and he was finally in the moment.

They stayed up together most of the night and realized the cruelty of the situation. Tracy lived in Whistler and worker there, Charlie worked part-time at a minimum wage job in Kamloops and they both agreed a long distance relationship could be futile. Tracy did mention that Charlie was more than welcome to come to Whistler and stay at her place while he looked for work, there were plenty of jobs there she told him. Since many of the jobs were seasonal, that would leave the summers free for him to treeplant. The idea wrestled with Charlie for sometime after Tracy left. Ultimately his weaknesses won, and well, to this day Charlie’s never been to Whistler.

Sitting in his deck chair, Charlie realized it was already dark out and he was feeling the effects of the gin quite well. Tracy and love? - How could it be when they only spent a handful of days together? That was just childish. If it were childish, then why was there a pain in his heart that he couldn’t pinpoint, that would never show up on any EKG. Why were his eyes burning right now, why was there something discomforting in his throat. God dammit! What was the value in having such heavy feelings for someone you were not going to be with in the future? And where was the benefit in hurting over this after nine years. Charlie often thought how perfect it would be to have a heart of stone, to have no emotions. Or to be blissfully drugged out with Soma like in Brave New World. Really, what were the evolutionary benefits of hurt, despair, hopelessness or just an all around weak spirit? Well natural selection would normally take care of such things in the old days. Now Charlie just felt angry, time for some Ministry he thought, and selected the appropriate CD.

His lowest point still wasn’t now, that would have been the year 2001, especially those summer months. Charlie had moved to Kitimat, the place he grew up, in 2000. He was lucky to get the pulp mill job almost right away, but Charlie felt this to be failure on his part. He felt he was letting everyone know he couldn’t make it elsewhere and here he was. He hated himself more than he ever had in his life. Riding the bus to work one day he noticed some middle-aged alcoholics on the bus. Charlie recognized them from one of the pubs and knew they were fucked up. All they knew was life here, and these men in particular were never married, for they were surely as afraid of life as Charlie. He felt he was witnessing a future reflection of himself.

Friday nights in the summer of 2001 were like reruns of the previous Friday. Charlie would drink with buddies, head out to the bar and once at the last stop, The Kitimat Hotel, it would begin. Charlie would sit or stand usually alone and scan the bar crowd. He felt like he had no charisma, nothing to offer to anyone there, especially the women. Sometimes he’d get so drunk he’d tell his friends he was invisible, that nobody noticed him and that nobody would notice if he left. True enough, Charlie usually managed to leave the bar without any of his friends knowing. He would never take a cab, he’d walk so he could wallow and repeat his feelings of hatred for himself. Once he was on the Kitimat River Bridge, Charlie would stop half way and stare down at the water of the Kitimat River. How black that water looked late at night, a perfect death shroud for surely a person’s life would soon end if they were to fall, or jump. After a few months of this, Charlie had enough and finally did it. He went for help.

It was well past midnight now, and Charlie looked at the drink in his hand, stood up from his deck chair and threw the glass and what was left in it as far as he could. It landed nowhere near the lake. Enough is enough he thought to himself. What was the point in being upset about the past? The fact was that Charlie had a lot of friends and was liked by most who met him. He had a good life and had his health. It was the pathology of his hyper introspection that fueled the negativity he so often felt. Spending entire evenings in a beautiful setting with alcohol and depressing music was no way to move forward. It was when he was alone for too long that he would allow his demons to come home. Charlie wanted to move forward, and indeed he had over the past few years. In fact Charlie was happy or content most of the time over the last few years. He always knew what he had to do, he just often forgot to do it: take each day as it happens.

Charlie went inside and shut off the music. He noticed his cell phone on the coffee table and picked it up. He felt a need to check his voice mail at home. He dialed his home number, entered the code and listened. His mother wanted to borrow his truck again, which meant she needed him to move something. Work called looking for overtime tonight, well too late for that. The next message was wholly unexpected. He had to replay it as he was too surprised by the voice to pay attention to the message.

“Hi Charlie, this is Tracy. Wow it’s been a long time. I got your number from James and thought I’d call and catch up. Actually I’m in sort of a career transition and I’m doing some traveling. In fact I’m camping at this campground at Lakelse Lake. Anyway I’ll try you again later, it would be really nice to see you again. Why not try me on my cell, 604-555-2323. Hope to hear from you soon, bye.” That was it; just like that Charlie was dumbfounded. He was too surprised to feel much. All he knew right now was that he needed to get to bed. Tomorrow would take care of itself. Tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow he would call Tracy.