My Lost Shit

Mister Duck was waiting for me at the look-out post, as he had done every morning since the shark attack.

I'd had a shock the first time I found him up there, and we'd promptly had an argument. I felt it had been reasonable for him to appear while I'd been helping Christo in the caves. With or without the phosphorescence, the caves had the qualities of a nightmare -exactly where you'd imagine Mister Duck might show up. But to see him in crisp sunshine, sitting with an unlit joint clamped between his teeth like a cowboy's cheroot, was hard to take.

For as long as the initial bewilderment gripped me, I stood gawping while he grinned and tilted his head from side to side. Then I'd said, 'It's broad daylight, Mister Duck!'

I said it angrily because I felt obscurely insulted by the brazen nature of his apparition.

'Broad daylight,' he replied evenly, 'is what it is.'

I paused.' ...I'm not dreaming.'

'True.'

'Then I'm going insane.'

'Do you want an honest answer?'

'Yes.'

He shrugged. 'I'd only query the tense. But I'm not a professional, so, you know, seek out a second opinion.'

I threw up my arms, threw them down again, and sat heavily on the ground. Then I reached out and touched his shoulder. It was as dry and warm and solid as my own.

Mister Duck frowned when I shuddered. 'You have a problem?'

I shook my head. 'Yes, I have a problem. I'm mad.'

'So? Are you complaining?'

'Complaining?'

'Is that what you're doing? Complaining?'

'I'm...'

He cut me off. 'If you're complaining, buddy, I'm going to tell you right now, I don't want to hear it.'

'I'm just...'

'I'm just, I'm just,' he mimicked. 'You're just what?'

'I'm very fucking shocked! Seeing you and... being mad!'

Mister Duck's face screwed up in disgust. 'Where's the shock in being mad?'

'Everywhere!' I said furiously. 'I don't want to be mad!'

'You don't want to be mad? Well, well. Mind if I pick you up on that?'

I pulled out a cigarette with slightly shaking hands, then put it back, remembering I couldn't smoke on the island. 'Yes. I mind. I want you to go away.'

'Tough. Answer this. Where are you?'

'Leave me alone!'

'Where are you?' he repeated.

I covered my face with my hands. 'I'm in Thailand.'

'Where?'

'Thaila...'

'Where?'

Through the cracks between my fingers, I stole a glance down to the DMZ. My shoulders slumped as I got the gist.' ...Vietnam.'

'Vietnam!' A great crowing grin spread across his features. 'You said it! You wanted it! And now these are the breaks! In Country, losing your shit comes with the territory!' He whooped and slapped his thigh. 'Fuck it, man, you should be welcoming me! I'm the proof you made it! Rich, I am your lost shit! Viet-fuckin'-nam!'

By the end of that day, I was already feeling pretty comfortable with Mister Duck's presence. And by the end of the second, I realized I was quite pleased about it. He was good company, in his way, and he knew how to make me laugh. Also, as we were spending hours with each other, a lot of our conversation was about commonplace stuff, like places we'd both been to or films we'd both seen. It was hard to stay shocked by someone while you were talking about Star Wars.

After the burial I was very keen to get to the look-out post. I had lots of questions for Mister Duck about Tet and I wanted to tell him about Sal's speech to the camp, so I jogged almost all the way up to the pass.

I found him with Jed's binoculars clamped to his eyes.

'I've got loads to tell you,' I panted, as I sat down beside him, breathless from my haste. 'We buried Sten and Sal made a long speech to the camp. She talked about Tet. You haven't told me about Tet. And she talked about you too.'

An odd look passed over Mister Duck's face. 'Sal talked about me? What did she say?'

'She said Tet would be different this year because you were gone.'

'...Is that all she said?'

'That's all she said about you. But she also talked about Tet and camp morale.'

Mister Duck nodded. 'Very nice,' he muttered disinterestedly.

'Don't you want to hear about it? It was really impressive the way she spoke. I think she had a real effect on...'

'No,' he interrupted. 'I don't.'

'...You don't want to hear about it?'

'Nope.'

'Oh... Why not?'

'Because, Rich... Because...'

He seemed to drift off for a moment, lowering the binoculars, raising them to have another look, and then lowering them again.

'Because I want to talk about Airfix models.'

Date: 2015-02-03; view: 642