The Flesh Doctrine
By G.M.Groves
Prologue.
I.
There was something fascinating about that building. It wasn’t the tallest, widest, prettiest or even the oldest, though it was definitely the newest. David believed that he had never seen anyone go in or come out of it and thinking back, he could not remember any construction work at all. Maybe they erected it when he was on holiday? Two weeks though? Surely not that quick. The windows were stained black, its concrete exterior was a shade lighter, and its décor lacked any design work or sculpture. It was stark and industrial, its concrete form characterless.
What actually was its purpose?
‘David?’ said Tim from the next desk.
‘Yeah?’
‘You are staring again.’
‘Oh sorry, what were you saying?
‘That you haven’t accepted the invite yet, you know, it’s a big one on Saturday. Terry needs to know if you can make it,’ Tim’s face was long and round, almost shaped like a wide banana. His eyes were piercing blue and his hair was jet black and gelled neatly. The complete opposite of David.
David sighed. ‘Sorry, just been so busy.’
‘Too busy to tap a button on your phone screen?’
‘Well...’
Tim sighed, shaking his head. ‘You are the worst.’
No, social media is the worst. You need to get out more, live in the real world for a change. Hate the fact we are all chained to this thing. ‘I’ll do it when I get home.’
‘Are you telling me that you don’t have Facebook installed?’
‘Nope,’ David answered sharply. Because it would turn me into an obsessive addict, kind of like you. The thought of having access to social media wherever he was unnerved him. I’d look at it constantly if I had it, I can’t trust myself. I’d obsess over Maria’s profile. I just can’t do it.
The strange tower through the eighth-floor office window called to him again, his vision tunnelled toward it at high speed. ‘I need to get back to these emails,’ David said quickly. He turned his nose down, eyes toward the monitor. It was still there, out of the corner of his eye. The tower. Who watched who, really?
‘Sure, just do it,’ said Tim. ‘You drop James off at Maria’s Fridays so there’s no excuse. Come on, it’ll be fun, maybe you will finally meet someone new. You can’t wait around forever for her to see sense,’ Tim stopped himself. Speaking his mind was an addiction that he could not resist. If something needed to be said he could not ignore it. Bury it perhaps, but it soon resurfaced with greater intensity.
David nodded, initially not listening, Tim’s words were indirect, a vapour. However, they gradually gained form and David found himself agreeing. He was waiting for Maria to quit the booze and sort her life out. Was he wasting his time? ‘You aren’t wrong really. I’ll be there, don’t worry. Not sure if looking for something new is wise, though.’
‘Come on, man. You can’t do this to yourself forever. You’ll start… fermenting or something.’
‘I don’t know if I am ready.’
‘You don’t know if you are ready for some fun? Not every interaction with the opposite sex has to be a marriage proposal. Some women, you know. They want to have fun too,’ as he spoke Tim raised an eyebrow, recognising the clichéd reference.
David smiled. Tim just cared. While they weren’t friend-friends, they were work-friends. David recognised that Tim tried hard with him and clearly liked him. ‘Depends on the kind of fun you mean. I appreciate it mate, I really do. I forget that you are the one who has to look at this face every day.’
Tim laughed. ‘You know it.’
II.
David worked as a call centre clerk for Natwest and while the time passed slowly, it thankfully lacked frustration. At 3 pm his shift ended and he rushed, like always, to his Vauxhall to drive to school and pick up his son, James. He was ten years old.
‘How was your day Jimmy?’
‘It was fine,’ he said. ‘Mrs Seal put Paul in detention.’ The boy was strapped in the passenger seat.
‘Oh, what did he do?’
‘Kept on talking, she told him to be quiet ten times.’
Later, dinner was chicken nuggets, chips and beans. David was partial to kid's food and always gave James his favourites on Thursdays.
‘Fancy playing something tonight?’ David asked, straightening the boy’s hair. ‘We’ve got a week left on this battle pass, think we can finish it?’
‘Am I going to Mum’s tomorrow?’
‘Grandma’s you mean?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I’ll be dropping you off after school.’ James did not acknowledge, instead, he looked at the plate, his arms were straight and at his side. ‘Something bothering you? You can tell me.’
James’ large brown eyes were open and sensitive when he looked up at his father. He was already a bad liar. His lips trembled and he looked down at his hands playing with something invisible. ‘Mum’s not well, is she?’
David shook his head. He could not lie either. He slid his chair closer and wrapped an arm around him, rested his chin on his head and held him closer. ‘No, she is not. That’s why when she sees you, it has to be with grandma.’
James nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘Come on, let’s crack on with some Apex Legends,’ David got off the chair and beckoned for the boy to follow.
They spent the night on their separate consoles and headsets until it was bedtime, laughing at each accidental death and cheering when either managed to score an elimination. At 9 pm it was time to stop as David did not like James to play video games right up until bedtime. At 10 pm he went upstairs and knocked on James’ door and poked his head around it. ‘Night, night. It’s 10 pm,’ he said.
James was already half under his bedsheet, reading The Amazing Spiderman under his night light. ‘Can I finish this one? I’m right at the end.’ he said.
Frowning with suspicion, David relented. ‘Okay, but if I see the light on…’ he pointed to the window above the door.
‘You won’t,’ he said.
David smiled warmly. He returned downstairs and entered the kitchen. He pulled out a bottle of whisky and sat at the breakfast bar and poured himself a dram. A nightcap, he told himself. It reminded him of Maria. If James was noticing that she was not well then what was happening to her? She had already proved that she was clean enough to see him under supervision. He didn’t want her to relapse. Selfishly, he didn’t want to lose Saturday nights either. He was getting used to them.
III.
The following day after school David took Jimmy to his grandmother’s. When Susan opened the door her expression was a mixture of concern and fear. ‘Hello young man,’ she said to James with excitement, trying to hide her feelings.
‘Hiiii,’ James replied.
‘Everything alright?’ David asked.
Her expression changed to acceptance. Despite her illness, Maria was her daughter and also an adult responsible for her actions, to a degree. David had grown to trust Susan during Maria’s rehabilitation, his one link left to the Maria that he loved. Maria had been a troublesome daughter since birth, ironically born on Friday the 13th.
‘She’s not here.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I’m sorry, I should have said something earlier,’ she said desperately. ‘I just thought maybe she would come home before you arrived. Hoped.’
David sighed.
‘James can still stay if you have plans.’
‘I appreciate it, but, look. Is she okay?’
‘She’s not well… I…’ Susan fumbled.
‘It’s okay, we both want her to be well, right?’
James was silent, listening, holding on to his father’s right hand.
‘We do. I’ll take him and give her a call. I’m sure she has just gotten stuck somewhere.’
David nodded and then knelt at James’ level, half his size. ‘Now, will you be good for your nan?’
The boy sheepishly nodded and walked on past her and into the house.
IV.
Saturday night and Tim was already in despair watching David hunched over the bar wearing a sad face. ‘Come on mate.’ They were at their team leader Terry Conway's leaving party at Molo Lounge, a bar. The music was loud and a little obnoxious and the usually younger clientele were partying hard, pouring shot after shot and cheering at their tables. The rest of their workmates were on the dancefloor, rammed together.
David took in a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so worried about James,’ he said loudly.
‘What’s happened?’ Tim asked, leaning over into David’s ear.
‘I think Maria has fallen off the wagon.’
‘So?’
‘What do you mean so? I’m worried about Jimmy.’
‘He’s at Susan’s, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘So relax, man.’
‘I can’t, he’s upset. He knows.’
‘I think it's you who is upset.’
‘Well, yeah.’
‘Who are you more worried about, Maria or James?’
He couldn’t answer.
‘Man, listen to me, don’t take this the wrong way.’
David took a deep breath. Here it comes.
‘You see Cara, over there, next to Helen?’
‘I’m not looking.’
‘I’ve spent the whole week building you up, every day, mate. Come on, she likes you.’
A version of me you have built up in her head, David thought. He was dreading it.
‘See, you are still hanging on. Let her go, mate. She’s gone.’
‘She might get better.’
Tim shook his head. ‘Look, mate. I didn’t want to say this to you. She’s gone. You have to let her go.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Carl saw her with some fella in Gino’s last night.’
‘You are joking?’ David’s back suddenly straightened. His mind spun out of control, no seatbelt. He crashed. She wasn’t around for James because she was frolicking with some cunt? His belly was tight and hot, his arms ached and were full of hateful pain. He needed to lash out. ‘I have to go.’
‘Go? Where?’
He felt suffocated by the other people, the lights, the music, the walls. Most of all, he felt suffocated by Tim. Words began to form in his fiery belly. Just stay the fuck out of my life. You don’t know what you are talking about. You don’t have kids, you don’t know what real pain is either. You are just… Just… Just as the words were about to burst from his mouth, he realised. He didn’t blame Tim. He was just a lad at heart and he wanted to party. He is ten years younger than you, you are getting slow, remember that. He’s just worried and is trying to help in his own way. The wrong way. 40 years old now. What happened to you?
‘I’m sorry,’ David said, standing up off the barstool. He walked calmly out of Molo Lounge into the streets of South Town.
‘Shit,’ said Tim to himself. He went to follow only to be distracted by Helen.
V.
He took the long walk home instead of waving down a cab, he needed fresh air and some time. He was conflicted over what he was angrier about, Tim’s meddling or Maria seeing someone new. He was over her. He was only angry at her because she wasn’t ready to have a new relationship. Who would date her? She was unwell. It wasn’t fair to anyone else. Selfish. She was hard work when they were together. The perspectives rotated angrily above his head like vultures. He needed to speak with Tim, make him understand that what he thinks is best is not necessarily what is best for everyone else and at the same time show that he appreciates him trying. Difficult.
Jimmy was more important than anything. He needed to speak to Susan. She already knew. Why didn’t she say anything? Jimmy wasn’t ready for a new man in his life, he was too young and he’d find it confusing. David had to put a stop to it. It was only fair. Maria should not be allowed to see anyone else.
Awakening to the present, his mind suddenly calmed. David realised that he was lost. He had walked blindly through the high street and had taken a wrong turn into an alley. He followed it back. It was late, the shadows of the buildings now allowed for the lampposts to project their stationary spotlights onto the pavement. He could hear chatter and laughter in the distance. Echoed footsteps, nightlife.
He looked up. The tower. That same feeling drew him. He had never seen it from this perspective before, never walked past it. Its straight edges, so direct, so violent, its harsh concrete slabs that stretched endlessly. There were no windows or doors at ground level, strangely. If nobody entered it, what was it for? He felt a looming presence, a booming foghorn in his ribcage, spreading, growing, reaching from his chest, tightening his heart, his lungs. His ears began to ring and great pressure thumped in his head. The building seemed to curve above him, he craned his neck until he could no more. It weighed down upon him, gravity crushed him.
His consciousness snapped into the present. He was alone, still in the street. What was I doing? Going home? He shook his head at himself. Call Tim in the morning, apologise, but also ask him to back off a bit. Nicely. You are such a mess. Then call Susan, ask to pop over and speak with Maria. Get some answers. She’ll listen. If Maria won’t, maybe Susan can get through to her. Wait. You are going crazy. What do you think you are doing? You are divorced, you sound like some crazed ex. You can’t control her life just as much as she is no longer controlling yours, and you hate it when people try to control you. Look at Tim! Go home, get some sleep and take it easy. Work this out. Maybe Maria isn’t relapsing. Maybe it was a mistake, just like Susan said.
There was a silhouette, it stepped into the light. He was a diagram from an old science textbook in school. A man with no skin formed only of muscle and bone, the shiny moisture of his body glowing under the street lamp. Then another closed in behind David, and then another to his left.
He screamed as he was held down and carried away.
To be continued...