Never Forever

Never Forever


Forever always seemed like such a long time, so Dudley wasn't expecting it to be so short.

Forever stopped on a weekday; he had to work late and Samantha was at some convention, some art convention she hadn't taken time to explain because she liked when he didn't understand what she was doing. He usually didn't mind it. He loved Samantha, he loved how different they were, and he loved how she didn't remind him of his past. He loved how adamant she was about everything; how she’d glare at him in a way that suggested she hated him when really, he knew otherwise. He loved how she cleaned as much as his mum but was as sentimental and motherly as a lumberjack. She tried so bloody hard to be jaded and nasty. At times, she’d curl up on the leather couch, watch Hallmark commercials and cry… but as far as Dudley went, she was as callous as she could be. It was just her way. She didn’t let him get away with anything. He liked it.

…so he couldn't figure out why he had such an interest in the new hire at the club where he worked. Her name was Luce. Luce was the bartender. She was tiny and supple and wore dark makeup. Her real name was Lucinda and she giggled a lot and reminded him of Privet Drive: of frying bacon, the playground, cupboards and candy, being coddled and cuddled and treated like he was special, gold stars just for breathing. He’d liked to think he’s changed since blah blah blah happened, because well, yes, he’s changed, he’s himself—he no longer throws shit and makes trouble, he’s not sick on purpose and he acts his age—

But there was a part of him that was simply Dudley. And she liked simple things and didn't talk about the problems she had and she loved his beats and everything was innocent until she started requesting songs for him to play.

He knew she liked him, then. But who was he to deny her of the songs? He liked them, too, hits from '91, '92, '95... When she requested "Nobody" by Keith Sweat and he played it for her at 2 am on that Wednesday, the day forever ended, she danced behind the bar like she thought he wasn't watching. Who can sex you like me? Nobody, baby.

Then a bar fight began, and because the new bouncer, Paul, was a fucking retard, Dudley ended up cutting in and stopping the fight, which made him feel like he was being used for two jobs and only being paid for one. 'I'm turning out like Dad,' he thought grumpily, 'want to get my money's worth.'

Luce noticed he was put out, and around 4 am, at closing, she came up and made some silly joke and put her arm up over his shoulder and pressed herself against his chest and said it was going to be okay. It was like some 1950s movie. Dudley had forgotten how supreme it felt to be with a woman who acted completely powerless.

She said something to the effect of 'my car's in the shop', so of course he had to give her a ride home, because would his mother approve of anything else?

However, Petunia wouldn't approve of him following her into her apartment, her seedy, cheap apartment in downtown London, Samantha would die at the location of the place. She introduces him to her tits and her lips; he’s not really sure which he met first because his mouth is all over the place, and when he mounts her on the couch, he doesn't know how he got there, and he wishes alcohol could have been involved because that was so much easier to explain, and when he comes he looks down at her face and realizes he doesn't even think that much of her.

But she tells him she'll make him breakfast in the morning and he's never been one to refuse breakfast.

She gives him a blanket and cuddles next to him and falls asleep and he stares at the offwhite walls thinking “Holy fucking shit.” He’s in his boxers, his white shirt, his sagging khakis around his knees. He’d get up and splash water on himself to regain consciousness but he doesn’t want to wake her up. That might make it real.

At nine am, she’s all ready in the little kitchen. Breakfast smells like home, and he grins mistakenly, pulling all of his clothes back on and he comes up behind her and smells her hair. She’s wearing familiar perfume, too. She swats him with a dishrag and tells him to wash his hands.

She thinks it’s silly to scrape out the bacon grease before frying eggs so the breakfast has the delightfully smoky taste of fat. She says sweetly that she likes how he smells like soap, cigarettes and leather all at once, and she asks him how many fights he’s broken up at work.

He figures it might be okay to stay longer; she gets him more eggs from the pan.

Forever might have gone on, but she says she needs a hand and so he takes her to the market and ends up staying and she ends up pressing packages into his hands like she's too weak to carry anything, she nuzzles into his black jacket, and this would have been okay, too

but Petunia is watching from the side street, he must have forgotten she comes to town on Saturdays for the bargains, and she knows that if her son's carrying things for a woman who isn't Samantha, this means forever is over, and being that she's never been too fond of Samantha, she wastes no time in calling a "talk over coffee."

Samantha thinks for a moment that Petunia is ready to bond until the woman opens her mouth and explains how her son's found a new girl who is "cute as a bug."

Forever ends, and Dudley is forced out of the classy apartment with the art on the walls that he's not permitted to understand, with his weights and his rap albums and his trophies, and he finds himself at Number Four

Which is where Petunia wanted him

and he realizes that the world here is very small.



/fin