De Mariaffi - How to get along with women: stories

Acknowledgments

There are many people to thank. First, my editor, Stan Dragland, who fixed everything, and Michael Winter, who got me started on stories in the first place. The Banff Centre for the Arts for giving me a place to get started and Pasha Malla for his insight. Kim Jernigan and the whole New Quarterly for being my best friends in the short story game. Sam Haywood for her vote of confidence. My list of indentured readers: Heather Colquhoun, Nancy Jo Cullen, Matthew Henderson, Leigh Nash, Meaghan Strimas, Carey Toane. Jill Wigmore more than any of these. Robbie and Nic and Megan at Invisible for being so damn great. My parents for running backup. George Murray, who came in late, but who probably suffered more than most.

I am grateful to the Ontario Arts Council, whose funding made writing this book possible.

Many of these stories were first published in one form or another in the following magazines: The New Quarterly, The Fiddlehead, This Magazine, and The Puritan. Im very lucky.

Niko Tinbergens essay, The Bee-Hunters of Hulshorst, which I found in The Norton Reader, Sixth Edition (1965), was very valuable to the writing of my story Field Work.

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Halifax & Toronto

Text copyright Elisabeth de Mariaffi, 2012

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any method, without the prior written consent of the publisher.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

De Mariaffi, Elisabeth, 1973

How to get along with women : stories / Elisabeth de Mariaffi.

Short stories.

Print ISBN 978-1-926743-26-4

EPUB ISBN 978-1-926743-31-8

MOBI ISBN 978-1-926743-36-3

I. Title.

PS8609.E2357H69 2012 C813.6 C2012-904844-5

Print Cover & Interior designed by Megan Fildes

Typeset in Laurentian and Slate by Megan Fildes

With thanks to type designer Rod McDonald

Ebook designed by Nic Boshart

Printed and bound in Canada

Invisible Publishing

Halifax & Toronto

www.invisiblepublishing.com

We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts which last year invested $20.1 million in writing and publishing throughout Canada.

Invisible Publishing recognizes the support of the Province of Nova Scotia through the Department of Communities, Culture & Heritage. We are pleased to work in partnership with the Culture Division to develop and promote our cultural resources for all Nova Scotians.

This one is for Nora and for Desmond

Invisible Publishing
Halifax & Toronto

Dancing on the Tether

Zelda comes up the laneway on her bicycle, going slow because its dusty and because sometimes a pickup pulls out quick, the driver not expecting anyone to be walking or cycling way out here. She can see Tim about halfway down the drive working on the Ranger, his head down in the engine and she leans her bike against the fence and takes her schoolbag, which was hanging across her chest for the ride, and lifts it over her head and lets it hang from just one shoulder and walks up behind him.

I need to ask you a favour.

He doesnt look up. He says, Pass me that screwdriver there, babe.

Zelda hands him the screwdriver. Seriously. Tim.

He pulls his head and shoulders out from under the hood and turns, flips his chin at her.

Take your shirt off.

Tim. She steps toward him a little and rocks back and forth on her heels.

What?

I need something.

So do I, baby.

I need you to do something for me.

He puts the screwdriver down, leans his head down too. Lifts up his eyes to look at Zelda. You know youre no fun.

Hes squinting. Theres a lot of cloud but its bright cloud. Zelda doesnt answer right away and he picks up the screwdriver again and goes back to work on the V belt. Theres some wind and the hood shakes a little, propped up there. Tim stays bent over. Zelda wonders if the wind were strong enough, could the hood fall down on his shoulders.

Tim lived with them, Zelda and Mary, for six whole months back in the winter and spring. He used to take Max for walks and he let Zelda tag along and showed her how to get Max to drop one stick before you throw another. He got up and made macaroni and cheese for breakfast when Mary was out working late the night before and once when he was rolling up a joint on the kitchen table, Zelda knocked over a glass of milk and soaked his rolling papers and he didnt even lose his shit.

Zelda says, I need you to drive me up north.

Fuck. Gimme that impact driver.

She finds it and gives it over.

I want to see where I was born.

Who knows where you were born, Tim says. He strips the belt out nice and clean, tosses it down, reaches back for the new one. Zelda picks it up and hands it to him. She doesnt say anything for a while. Tims shoulders rock a little.

Tim.

You know Im not even fucking your mom anymore. Go ask someone else. Ask Ray.

Rays a jackass, Zelda says. That makes Tim feel okay and he brings a greasy hand up to rub his beard and hide it.

Ray brings over these big cheap cowboy steaks and pretends like theyre something good, Zelda says. Mary cant even stand him half the time. She just needs someone around to, I dont know.

I know, Tim says. I know what she needs him for.

They stand there a minute with Tim still leaning under the hood but he looks at her and his hand drops and he bounces the impact driver against his thigh a few times.

Mary says Thunder Bay.

Screwdriver.

Zelda gives it to him. His shoulders give a last hard shudder. He straightens up and stretches his neck to the side, reaches for the prop and lets the hood fall back into place.

What do you really want to go up to Thunder Bay for?

Ill fuck you, Tim. If you take me.

Tim throws his tools into the box and he latches it and turns around and points a finger at her. No you wont. You say you will but you wont.

I guess.

You guess.

Youre just too old for me, Tim.

They walk around the back of the house and up onto the porch. He has a big wooden table up there under the overhang and he slides the toolbox under the bench and they sit down. He takes a booklet of Zig-Zag out of his shirt pocket and raps the end of it against the tabletop and Zelda opens up her bag and takes out her stuff.