Beautiful World, Where Are You(44)
Simon, the mystery of him, and somehow as I looked out the taxi window I started to think about his physical presence in the city, that somewhere inside the city’s structure, standing or sitting, holding his arms one way or another, dressed or undressed, he was present, and Dublin was like an advent calendar concealing him behind one of its million windows, and the quality of the air was instilled, the temperature was instilled, with his presence, and with your email, and with this message I was writing back to you in my head even then. The world seemed capable of including these things, and my eyes were capable, my brain was capable, of receiving and understanding them. I was tired, it was late, I was sitting half-asleep in the back of a taxi, remembering strangely that wherever I go, you are with me, and so is he, and that as long as you both live the world will be beautiful to me.
I had no idea you had been reading the Bible in hospital. What made you want to do that? And did you find it helpful? I thought it was very interesting what you said about the forgiveness of sins. I asked Simon the other night whether he prays to God, and he told me yes – ‘to say thank you’. And I think if I believed in God, I wouldn’t want to prostrate myself before him and ask for forgiveness. I would just want to thank him every day, for everything.
17
The second Friday evening in May, Felix spent eight minutes in the security queue leaving work. One of the people ahead of him had set the machine off and was taken into a side room to be searched. A sheet of paper on the door read: SUPERVISORS
ONLY, ID TO ENTER. The queue stalled outside and the sound of raised voices came from inside the room. Felix exchanged a glance with the person standing in front of him, but neither spoke. By the time he got through the scanner and into his car, it was thirteen minutes past seven. The sky was dense and white overhead, with shafts of sunlight penetrating here and there through the low cloud. He switched the CD player on, reversed out of the parking space and left the industrial estate.
A few minutes down the road, he pulled off into a flat gravel area overlooking the sea.
A wooden visitor centre at the entrance was closed up and no other cars were nearby. At one end a large yellow posterboard displayed information of historical and geographical interest. Felix parked at the outermost edge of the lot, the Atlantic stretching grey and rough outside the windshield. He unbuckled his seatbelt and unzipped the black puffer jacket he was wearing, revealing a faded-green sweatshirt underneath, with a small white embroidered logo. He took his phone out of his pocket, switched it on, and then opened the glovebox and started to roll himself a joint. The phone made various buzzing noises, receiving messages which had come in while he was at work, and his eyes flicked back and forth between the screen in his lap and the rolling paper on the steering wheel. When he was finished, he held the unlit joint in his mouth and scrolled through the messages and notifications on-screen: various social media alerts and app notifications, and one direct text message, from his brother Damian.
Damian: What time are you off tonight? You can come over here or I can bring everything over to yours if it suits better, let me know
Felix reclined the driver’s seat, looked up at the fuzzy grey interior of the car ceiling, and sparked his lighter. For a moment he closed his eyes, inhaling, and then he lifted his phone and opened the message thread. The previous text was one Felix had sent yesterday, reading: Off work tmr night, will call u. Before that were several missed call notifications from Damian. Ten days previously, a text from Felix read: Hey sorry no im away. He stared at the thread blankly and then closed it. For a while, taking long drags and exhaling slowly, he scrolled through his other notifications, dismissing or checking them as he went along. He had received one new message through a dating app, which he opened up on-screen.
Patrick: you around tonight?
Felix tapped on the name ‘Patrick’ and flicked through the uploaded photographs. In one image, a group of men posed at a social event with their arms around one another’s shoulders. In another, a bearded man knelt by a body of water holding an enormous fish, its body mottled and iridescent under sunlight. Felix went back to the message and typed in the reply field: Might be, whats up? Without hitting send, he returned to the message he had received from his brother. He locked his phone then and went on smoking and listening to music. At times he hummed or sang along absent-mindedly, his voice light and pleasant. Outside, rain started to drum on the windshield.
At five to eight, he flicked his stub out the window and reversed out of the car park. His eyes were a little glassy now. Approaching the village, he hit the indicator, and then picked his phone up off the dashboard and squinted at it again. There were no new messages. For no apparent reason, he switched off his indicator light and continued driving straight. A car behind him beeped its horn and Felix murmured peaceably: Yeah, alright, fuck off. He kept one hand on the steering wheel and used the other to make a phone call.
After two rings, a voice answered: Hello?
You at home? said Felix.
In my house? Yes.
Busy?
No, not at all. Why?
I’m just out of work, he said. Thought I might swing by and see you if you’re around.
What do you think?
Well, I’m certainly around. I’m right here.
Be there in a minute, then, said Felix.
He hung up and dropped his phone noiselessly onto the passenger seat. After a few more minutes on the road, a large white house appeared on the left, and he hit the indicator once again.