Robert River packed his suitcase and listened to some music as he ran around his apartment, taking care of last-minute arrangements: leaving food and litter for the cat-sitter; hiding all of the checkbooks and personal bank statements in his safe; disabling the pay-per-view options on his cable box and disconnecting the phone...
He never had a regular cat-sitter because they all proved to be unreliable in some way, so Robert always hired somehow new, someone he would never use again. He usually met the sitters online, in chat rooms and on message boards. Sometimes he advertised in the Recycler or the local free press, but this time around he went to Craig's List and found someone who was able to commit on short notice.
With time to spare before the sitter arrived, Robert sat down on the couch and tapped his toes to the music, a CD version of the Iggy Pop & The Stooges' classic, Raw Power. The song he was listening to, "Penetration", consisted of one repetitive monster guitar riff, while singer Iggy Pop crooned and cooed and hissed over the muscular rhythm section.
Robert liked this album because it was mixed so raw, so very "lo-fi"... It is considered one of the first true punk rock albums, and he remembered being turned on to the album by his father, the late James River. James always had music playing in the house when Robert was a kid, and this album in particular captured his imagination like none other. Robert reasoned, as he got older, that the album had some kind of sonic effect on him, because he couldn't explain his attraction to it.
Despite a few slower paced tracks, including the brooding ballad "Gimme Danger", Raw Power lives up to its title: unkempt rock and roll adrenaline, sloppily produced and with all audio levels pushed into the red. Robert would play it on a loop sometimes, and he noticed, as he sat waiting for the sitter to come through, that the album got progressively LOUDER with each song. He figured this out because, when the entire disc is played on "repeat", track number One, "Search And Destroy", was significantly lower in volume than the last track, "Death Trip".
Very little bottom-end is in the Raw Power mix, which gives it a shrill, tinny sound. Robert was surprised to discover, years ago, that David Bowie assisted in the mixing of this rock classic-- Bowie's albums are always produced very well, and the stark contrast between Raw Power and an album like The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars was enough to make Robert question what was more aesthetically pleasing to the ear-- smooth production values, or ugly, muddy, nasty mixes.
Raw Power often made his head hurt to listen to, with its screeching treble settings and the lowdown dirtiness of the record. And of all the songs on the album, the drone of "Penetration" hypnotized him most, as if an aural drill were boring right through the center of his medulla oblongatta.
I wonder if they'll ever remix this album, Robert wondered. A digital re-mastering, maybe?
Robert remembered a conversation he had with his father, long before he succumbed to coronary thrombosis, when he was 13, having just become a teenager. Robert didn't remember a lot of his conversations with his father because they were ususally forgettable affairs-- James was notorious for exaggerating tales, re-imagining scenarios, and straight-out lying when it came to their conversations.
But this one Robert remembered, because it involved the Iggy & The Stooges album that he was so enamored of as a child. Robert remembered that his father wanted to buy the master tapes of the album and remix it properly.
"I want all the levels to be set right," James said to his son, as they ate breakfast in their spacious kitchen. Along the walls of the hallway adjacent to the kitchen and dining area were gold records, all of them albums that James had produced or engineered later on in his life, after he'd stopped playing in go-nowhere groups and married his wife Rose, and had their only son Robert...
"I'd like the drums to be cleaner. Can't hear what Scott Asheton is doing half of the time. And there's no bass mix at all-- as a bass player, this offends me. I know, I know, lots of bands eschew the bass player for their songs-- Jon Spencer's a good example, and there's others out there who do it too... but I just want to hear what it's supposed to sound like."
Robert looked at his father incomprehensively. Raw Power was one of the few albums he liked from his father's vast collection of vinyl, and it was very symbolic of their relationship that James wanted to doctor the one album of his that Robert felt didn't need to be fixed.
"I think it's supposed to sound dirty, dad," Robert said to hs father as he ate Cocoa Puffs cereal. "This music isn't for clean ears. That's what makes it sound so cool. Everyone else wants to sound so pro."
"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," James said to Robert, careful to smile so that his son knew he was just being frank with his cursing. "I hear some of that stuff you listen to. It's all amateur. It all sounds like they recorded it in a toilet. I appreciate that kind of stuff when the band has no choice but to use primitive equipment, but I don't dig these guys who use good equipment to dirty up their sound... it's a waste, really. And as much as I like the album, I'd really like to hear it in a cleaner mix. That's all I'm saying. I mean, it's not like I'll ever get my wish, you know?"
"I like Raw Power how it is," Robert said. "If you ever try to get your hands on the masters, I swear I'll burn them up so you can't touch them."
James laughed. "Man, you're somethin' else, kid. I think I did a good job raising you!"
Robert didn't agree 100% with that notion. Sure, his dad was real laid-back, cool, and even somewhat famous, thanks to his short-lived stint as the bass player, vocalist and leader of a band called The Puerto Ricans that experienced some fame in the mid-80's. They had one big hit, and then the band broke up before they could capitalize on the momentum. The hit was called, "As The Romans Do", and it spent four weeks at the top of Billboard's Top 100 chart. The Puerto Ricans were even nominated for a Grammy for Best New Artist but lost out to Bruce Hornsby & The Range in 1986.
But there were times when Robert wished his father were more like a parent than a buddy, a fact that was compounded by the lack of a mother in his life. For most of Robert's life, he never knew anything about his birth mother except that she "left" shortly after he was born. This led to feelings of negative self-worth, because Robert reasoned he must've done something wrong in order to make his own mother leave him behind. Then, as he grew older, he focused his anger on his father, reasoning that it was something he did to make her leave...
It wasn't until his 18 birthday, about six months after his father died, that Robert discovered the truth: that his mother had died during childbirth, and that James never had the courage nor the heart to tell his son the awful truth because it hurt him too much to even bring up.
It was then, and only then, that Robert understood why his father wore the crown of the Jester, why his father never so much as raised a hand against him in anger, why his father was so laid-back and mellow... it was all he could do to keep from falling apart. Apparently, the death of Rose was so devastating to James that he could never bring himself to talk about it to anyone else.
Now an adult orphan, Robert would sometimes feel the nippy bite of bitterness against his neck, as he tried to understand the grief that his father carried with him, as he tried to imagine what his mother was like, based only off of old photgraphs and tape recordings made before she gave birth to him. Robert used to listen to those tapes as obsessively as he used to listen to Raw Power, sitting on the carpet, watching the wheels of the tape machine spin slowly as the voice of his mother, clear as a ringing bell, emanated from the machine, as if she were speaking from the other room.
Robert imagined that his mother still looked as she did in the high school graduation photo that James had framed and placed on the piano mantle, with long straight brown hair down to her waist, an oval face, painted eyebrows and a Mona Lisa smirk that belied some secret knowledge, a riddle that only she knew the answer to, the solution to all of the mysteries in Robert's life up to that point...
Robert had many surrogate mothers, mostly James' groupie friends or girlfriends or long-term relationships that he'd maintained. None of them matched the image he had in his mind of his mother. It wasn't until Robert met Rachel Edison, his first real girlfriend in high school, that he felt like he ever really connected on an equal level with a girl.
He had Fabian Rourke to thank for introducing him to Rachel, because they were friends before Robert and Fabian ever became chummy. And Robert had Rachel to thank for a lot of things, but he hadn't seen her since their bitter break-up in 1994, two years after they'd graduated from high school.
After the break-up, Robert ended up in various pointless affairs, and really didn't focus a lot of his energy on trying to find a replacement mom or a female figure to decorate his solitary existence. Now that he knew his mother was dead, now that Rachel was gone and other women he met failed to ignite his emotional fire, he had no real interest in finding love. It was a useless pastime, to him.
The doorbell rang, and Robert, still in a stupor from smoking some hash an hour previous, got up, turned off the stereo and answered the door.
The girl at his door looked young, but not too young. Her name was April, and she was chewing bubble gum obnoxiously as she introduced herself.
"Hi, I'm April, the cat-sitter."
Robert let her in and proceeded to give her instructions on how to deal with the cat.
"Narcissus is really finicky when it comes to his food," he said, as he showed her where the cat supplies wers stashed. "Other than that, he's a friendly cat. Very affectionate. He likes girls, so he'll warm up to you in no time. Just remember to scoop his poop out of the litter every now and then, and the rest is Easy Street."
"That's a beautiful name, Narcissus," April said. "And I love his fur." She bent down to pet the gentle kitty cat, and he responded by rubbing his fur against her leg and purring. April started talking in a weird sort of baby talk to Narcissus, which caused Robert to raise an eyebrow and look at her like she was demented.
"Yeah, uh, well, I'll be back around early November, around the 10th."
"November 10th? That's my birthday!" April remarked.
"Oh, wow. Cool. How old will you be turning?"
"18," she said.
"Well, Happy Birthday in advance."
"Thank you, Mr. River."
Robert looked her over-- she appeared vulgar to him, unsophisticated, usually the mark of insolent youth. Her clothes were slutty and crass-- revealing midriff, hair in a pony tail with a pastel-colored scrunchie, tight jeans... she was attractive, but coarse and brash.
"Here's some money in advance-- you'll get the rest when I get back."
April did not expect this. "Oh, well... thank you, Mr. River. I didn't--"
"This is to guarantee that the place isn't burned down by the time I get back, okay?" Robert sapped the moment of any kind of humanity.
"Okay," she said, holding Narcissus in her arms.
"No parties," he said. Then, he reconsidered. "Actually, if you're going to have people over, call me on my cel phone. I'll let you know if I'm cool with it or not."
That was his father speaking through him. Always eager to please, never wanting to come off as a hard or bad guy, James always drew the line and then crossed it himself.
"Thanks again, Mr. River." This time there was no mistaking the tone of April's voice-- she was looking at Robert with her eyelids fluttering, trying her best to push out her breasts in his direction. It wasn't that she was feeling anything towards him, but rather it was an automatic reaction to any man, of any age, being nice to her. She figured that all guys want the same thing, and so she flirted with Robert, who was eight years her senior, simply to reassure herself that she was a hot dish.
Robert didn't flinch. He noticed the curves, the look in her eyes, and he knew that, if he so desired, he could probably score points with this girl. But he was never one to let his emotions run away from him, so he blinked once and stared at her directly in the eyes and said, "You're welcome. Have a good time."
Then, he bent his head down towards Narcissus and rubbed his forehead, talking in the same baby talk that April used only a few minutes prior.
When Robert left, April stood there wondering if he was gay or neutered or just not in his right mind-- how could he not see that she was young and hot? But it didn't seem to bother her at all, once she sat down and turned on the television.
*/*
Rachel Edison sat down and breathed a long sigh of exhaustion. The day had been long, and the students at the middle school where she was an administrator were antsier than normal that day.
She needed to relax and unwind before she could garner up the energy to start cooking dinner for her boyfriend, who was due off of work in about two hours. This day was their second anniversary as a couple, and Rachel was hoping that a romantic dinner for two would be the right way to express her love for such a patient and solid man as Jack Hawkins.
In fact, she was hoping that, sometime during that dinner, Jack would bend down on one knee and propose to her. Although Jack wasn't the first man she ever felt like she wanted to marry-- that designation went to her first true love, Robert River-- she definitely knew that Jack was up to the task of being a good husband and provider. Jack made a lot of money as the head of a company he started over a decade ago, one that specialized in setting up conventions in halls and hotels, for high-priced clients who wanted only the best for their annual get-togethers.
This left him with very little spare time, but Rachel understood-- to maintain their comfortable lifestyle, there were certain sacrifices to make. And it wasn't like Jack never had time for her. He would often fly her out to Las Vegas or wherever it was that he was setting up a convention site, and whenever he had a window of free time he would take Rachel out to shows, fancy restaurants, sightseeing tours and fine hotels. He treated her very well, and she had never felt so secure and in love in her entire life.
Granted, Rachel had not been very experienced with relationships by the time she met up with Jack Hawkins. Rachel attributed this to the fact that, although she was a good-looking girl, she didn't stand out from the other girls that she'd grown up around, her so-called "peers". Rachel was a plain girl, a smart girl-- she never dressed up like a hootchie or played dumb in order to impress a guy she liked. She didn't wear make-up in her high school years, and even after she relented to make herself look more presentable (thanks to her best friend at the time, Kelly Paper) she kept her fashion sense strictly in the faux-Goth zone: all black attire, drastic hair-dye jobs, the mandatory concert tee of an impossibly cool band like Bauhaus or Jane's Addiction, and ripped fishnet stockings.
Her first experience with a guy was an English teacher she met in her Freshman year of high school. He was at least 20 years older than him, and luckily she never let him get that far with her. He was a dirty old man, willing to go to jail if only for one last fleeting stab at sullying the immaculate pond of a female teen's virginity. He didn't love her, though, and that's what really hurt her about her fling with a married language instructor-- he'd convinced her that he did love her, and because she was so young and impressionable, she bought into it.
Reeling from the aftermath of that May-December romance, Rachel swore off guys in general and older men in particular. Then, she met Robert River through her platonic friend Fabian Rourke, at a high school party in their hometown of Wholesome.
Robert and Rachel hit it off immediately. It was the first time that the word "chemistry" ever occurred to her in regards to a guy she liked. Rachel had harbored countless crushes on guys in her school, but they were never interested in her as anything but a study partner or a long-suffering friend. Even Fabian Rourke, who used to swear that he would marry Rachel when they were in junior high school together, never so much as made a move on her, even if she found the very notion to be repellant. It wouldn't have hurt Fabian, she reasoned, to at least try to make her feel attractive...
But Robert wanted nothing except to be with her, to feed ravenously on her attention. Robert was head-over-heels in love with Rachel, and what was poignant about his devotion was the proof that he demonstrated with every waking minute. Between classes, for example, Robert would find her, no matter where she was, and walk her to her class, even if it meant being late to his own. He would write her notes upon notes, which he would delegate to her friends to pass onto her whenever they could. Of course, Rachel's friends fluctuated between being annoyed with Robert and thinking he was the most adorable boyfriend ever.
This gave Rachel something of an ego, for the first time in her life. Robert was a handsome guy who never called excessive attention to himself, and so when other girls saw how completely enraptured he was with Rachel, it brought out a "latent sexiness" (as Kelly Paper once put it) in him that might not have existed had it not been for Rachel eliciting it from underneath his guarded layers.
Robert made Rachel feel incredible about herself. He never so much as glanced at another girl when he was with her, and he knew what to say to make her feel happy. If she asked him if a certain pair of jeans made her look fat, Robert would reply, "No, the jeans are just too small. Must've shrunk in the wash. Damn cottons..." And she knew he was lying, because she although she wasn't overweight, she didn't have the slender figure that so many of her friends possessed.
But Robert was always loyal to her, and only after they had broken up, when she discovered that Robert subsequently sought comfort in the arms of the beautiful Kelly Paper-- she with eyes of blue and hair of gold, with a body to die for and a partying spirit-- that she ever felt any sense of emotional betrayal.
However, Rachel understood Robert's motives: she had left Robert for a temporary fling with Brian, a friend of Robert's. Not a very close friend, but a friend nonetheless, and Rachel knew shortly after hooking up with Brian that she had made a monumental mistake in going to him for rebound comfort.
Still, her brief affair with Brian was not without its perks. Brian was a jock, the kind of guy she never would have considered for a moment, had it not been for his unexplainable ties with the crowd they hung out with-- Fabian and Robert and Tom Fargo liked having Brian around, despite his lack of common interest with them. Brian grew up with Tom and Fabian, and had never really clicked with Robert-- this made Brian a prime candidate for Rachel's affections in the wake of her relationship with Robert.
Brian was very well-endowed, and it was the first time in her life where Rachel felt like she was giving in to mindless fun and meaningless romance. It didn't last very long-- three months, to be exact --but it was enough time for Rachel to get over the absence of Robert in her life.
And why did they break up in the first place? Because Rachel felt that, however good Robert was to her, he would never get his act together and fulfill his own potential. Robert had the foolish notion of being a filmmaker, a claim made worse by the virtue of the fact that he never so much as made a home movie on a video camera. Robert's idea of aspiring to be a movie director consisted of watching endless amounts of movies on tape and quoting the dialogue.
He dropped out of community college, kept getting fired from menial jobs, kept hanging out with Tom and Fabian and Brian, kept getting into trouble for stupid pranks and partying too hard... Rachel drew the line, and Robert crossed it one too many times. Nothing that they had together was worth the pain and ache that she felt every time she saw Robert, stoned out of his mind, drunk off of beer, ignoring her while paying all of his attention to the boys.
It was as if he was resisting change. Everyone in their circle of friends knew that the days of lounging around with nothing better to do than get wasted were waning. Robert was the only one who couldn't make the transition from adolescent to adult. And Rachel didn't want to expend her energy on trying to "change" Robert.
The truth is, she didn't think Robert could change at all.
She thought of him for a second, as she took off her pumps and wrinkled her toes into the carpet fabric. Robert had a foot fetish, and loved to play with her feet whenever she got off of work or back from her college courses. She didn't miss much about him, but sometimes she would recall how good it felt to get a foot massage from him, because he was tender and gentle and he took his time and wasn't grossed out by corns or bunions or toe jam.
Jack Hawkins, for all of his generosity and attention, didn't enjoy massaging Rachel's feet. But he made up for it in being a steady rock for her to cling to in times of trouble. Rachel wasn't a helpless case without Jack, to be sure, but she liked the fact that, if she should ever feel weak in spirit, Jack was there to help. Robert was always too self-absorbed to lend any real help when she needed it.
The only thing she would allow herself to feel towards Robert was ambivalence. God, she thought to herself as she mashed the balls of her feet into the carpet, he's probably still playing video games on the couch, smoking endless amounts of pot and drinking like a goddamn fish... and he's allergic to alcohol! What an asshole... such a waste... he could be anything he wants to be and he chooses to be a bum...
She shook her head and checked the messages on the phone. There was one from an old friend, a voice she hadn't heard in years. Upon hearing the voice, she got all excited and jotted down the number as she replayed the message again. Then, she wasted no time in returning the call.
"Council Corps, Margaret speaking."
"I'd like to speak to... Jimmy Drawers?" Rachel wondered why Fabian would ask her to refer to him by that name.
"One moment, please."
Rachel waited. When Fabian picked up the line, she began to speak quickly.
"Drawers here."
"Fabian! Fabian Rourke! It's me, Rachel!"
"Heeeeyyyyyy," Fabian said, his voice's timbre rising. "Rachel. You got my message."
"How are you?" Rachel couldn't believe she was talking to her old friend, the one guy in her entire life whom she never felt any ill will towards. Fabian was the brother that she never had-- Fabian was everyone's brother, it seemed. "God, it's been so long..."
"Yeah, I know. I'm doing good. Can't complain... but you. Still teaching?"
"Not teaching-- administrating."
"No fuckin' way! Really? God, I'm so proud of you, Rache!" He pronounced it to rhyme with the letter 'H'. "Good for you! Awesome!"
"Thanks. They promoted me last fall. No more lesson plans, no more dealing with all that crap... it's great, it's what I want."
"I hear ya. Sounds like you're doing good."
"But what about you, Fabian? What's with the alias? 'Jimmy Drawers'? Wasn't that a character from one of your stories? Are you writing still?"
"Naw, not really writing in the traditional sense... but yeah, 'Jimmy Drawers' is like my stage name, if you can call it that... it's one of many names I go by."
"Ooooh," Rachel said, in mock-awe. "You sound like you're a VIP. What are you, a spy now?"
"I wish," Fabian replied. "No, I work for Council Corps. It's a small little company, you probably have never heard of it..."
"Can't say that I have."
"Well, it doesn't matter, because the money is good, and I have fun doing whatever it is they have me doing."
"So, are you still a bachelor? Or did you finally relent and let some poor girl rope you in?"
"Believe it or not, Rache, I've been happily married for the past three years."
"OH MY GOD!!" Rachel dropped the phone and hopped around the room screaming "I can't believe it!" When she finally calmed down and got back on the phone, Fabian was laughing.
"Surprised?"
"You bet your ASS I'm surprised!" Rachel was having a fit. "Oh my God... that's so cool, Faby! I can't believe it... Man, that's some news right there..."
"Thanks. I pride myself on my ability to shock even the jaded likes of you."
"Fabian, you getting married is more than just a shock-- it's a sign of the fucking Apocalypse!" Rachel said, smiling from ear to ear. "And yet, it makes sense. I guess I'm just happy for you, kid. You deserve it. I've known you for so long, and I always wondered if you would ever lighten up and let love hit you over the head."
"Yeah, well, it wasn't easy. But Caroline, she made it a smooth transition. I want you to meet her. You'd like her, Rachel-- she's not a skank. And she's smart. And she's beautiful."
"Oh, well, now I'm jealous," Rachel said, now in a mock-flirting tone. "I thought you said you'd marry me when we got old, Fabian. What happened? I wasn't good enough for you?"
"You were too good," Fabian said. "That's why I never got between you and Robert."
Rachel was silent for a bit, thrown off by the mention of his name. "Yeah, well, that was then..."
"I always thought you and Robert were going to tie the knot."
"Me too," Rachel said, not sure if she meant it or not.
"Ever talk to him?"
"No."
"No?"
"No. Let's change the subject, okay?"
"Okay... so, talk to Brian lately?"
Rachel laughed despite herself. "Fucker... you would bring that up, wouldn't you?"
"Just teasin'. I actually ran into him not too long ago. He coaches at Wholesome High."
"GET OUT!"
"No bullshit, Rache. He teaches Phys Ed now. Fitting, ain't it?"
"I must agree."
"I also ran into Tom Fargo," Fabian continued. "He works for UPS."
"He's Brown?" Rachel asked. "Too funny."
"Yeah, it's a living. He's doing good, actually. He's married, has two kids... I mean, I never expected that guy to live past 30, so anything other than being a gutterpunk is good for Tom."
"Wow... he still doesn't have a Mowhawk, does he?"
Fabian snickered. "Only when he goes on vacation!"
The two enjoyed a laugh and remininsced about the old days, holed up in a backwater hick town like Wholesome, the kind of town that made Bakersfield, CA look like a metropolitan Mecca. They remembered being outcasts in a closed society that valued convention and conformity. It didn't take much for people like Rachel and Fabian to rebel against the status quo-- all they had to do was step slightly out of line from the established order and they were instantly on the other side of anything the students of Wholesome High stood for... and thats how they liked it, for a short time.
"God, we were such pains," Rachel said, not noticing the lapse of time.
"I know, tell me about it. Anyway, I gotta go right now, so I'd love to talk some more but... I've got your number, though, so like I said-- one of these days we'll have to go get dinner, just you and me and Caroline..."
"Oh! Dinner! You just reminded me, I have to get dinner started. Today is mine and Jack's second year anniversary as a couple!"
"Jack?"
"My boyfriend. We've been together for two years now. You have to meet him, Fabian. He's everything I ever wanted in a man."
"Is that right?"
"Yeah... but anyway, I'll let you go, because I gotta get dinner ready. But call me, Faby! We'll get together soon."
"Yeah, we can have a reunion, if you'd like. You, me, Tom, Brian... Kelly and Robert..."
"Uh, let's talk about that some other time. Right now, I think it'd be best if it was just you and me and our significant others."
"Sure, whatever you say. I'll be talking to you real soon, Rache."
"You too, Fabian...or should I say, 'Jimmy Drawers'..."
Fabian laughed as he said goodbye. But when he placed the receiver back on the phone, he paced slowly around his desk and scratched his chin.
"I'm going to have to change up my whole game plan now," Fabian said to himself. "She's got a dude... this is going to get interesting."
At that moment, Fabian received another call, directed from his secretary to his private line. It was his wife, Caroline.
"Hey, baby, what's crackin'?"
"Just wanted to call you and tell you-- I'm waiting here for you to... get off from work and come home... I'm not wearing anything as I sit here, watching scrambled porn on the telly..."
Her British accent caused Fabian to get aroused, as she talked dirty to him on the phone. She usually called him around this time and spoke in a naughty manner, but since his schedule was pretty much clear for the day...
"I'll be there in no time, sweetheart!"
Caroline hung up before Fabian could say anything else. He walked out of his spacious penthouse office and told his secretary to go home early.
As he walked to his car, Fabian figured out a solution to the dilemma he had been poring over at the conclusion of his phone call wth Rachel. But he did not share this information with anyone-- he was still formulating the details in his mind as he drove home, doing 20 miles above the speed limit, in his brand new 1998 Lexus ES300.
CHAPTER FIVE DUE THIS FRIDAY...
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