Carl's Eulogy

Carl and I sat beside his father’s oscillating sprinkler in the middle of July. A paper plate covered in watermelon rinds and black seeds lay by our bare feet. On the sidewalk beside Carl’s front yard, hockey sticks and a Calgary Flames jersey baked in the sun. 

“What do you want to do?” I asked Carl who sat on the opposite side of the sprinkler.

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?” He tilted his head forward as the streams of cold water came his way.

“I asked you.”

In the silence that followed, I picked at the grass between my legs and threw the green blades up into the air watching them flutter back to the wet lawn. The asphalt warped the air into hot waves of distortion. That far off summer-time hum was louder than ever.

“Well, if you really want to do something,” he said, shifting to a more upright position in the grass, “we could go to PlaySpot.”

“What’s Playspot?” I asked, also shifting upright. Carl’s eyes widened into an over exaggerated look of disbelief.

“You’ve never been to PlaySpot?” He said, drawing out each word as if I had been living under a rock.

“No.”

“Dude, it’s better than Chuck E. Cheese!”

“I hate Chuck E. Cheese.”

“Well then you’ll love PlaySpot!” Carl stood up, now excited beyond control. “We can go right now! They’re probably still open! I can’t believe you’ve never been there, it’s so much fun!”

“So what is it? Like some kind of kid’s place? Is there a ball pit?” I asked, giving him a sarcastic grin.

“There’s no ball pit, you idiot. It’s a gaming room.”

“So like arcade games? Pinball? Pac-Man?”

“No no no, you don’t get it. Let’s just go there. You’ll understand when you see it.”

I rolled my eyes and decided that maybe it wouldn’t be worse than sitting in the sun all day. And to be honest, I was somewhat curious. But I’d never tell Carl that. After I thought about it, there was probably nothing better we could do.

We didn’t bother changing out of our wet, grass stained shorts. It was so hot that afternoon that after about five minutes of walking they were already dry. And the walk lasted much longer than five minutes. Carl was leading the way because of course I had never even heard of the place. I followed him downtown at which point the trail took some interesting turns. We ended up in what you may call the ‘bad’ part of town. Chain-link fences overgrown with climbing vines and lined with tumbleweeds divided most of the alleys we navigated. Barbed wire fences seemed out of place in what, to me, looked like a neighbourhood, albeit, a poor one. 

“Carl, where are we going?” I asked. At this point I was looking behind me trying to figure out if I’d be able to find my way home if something happened.

“We’re almost there, come on! See that street sign at the end of the alley? That’s the road PlaySpot is on!”

“Okay, good.”

We reached the end of the alley and stepped out onto a cracked asphalt road. I looked across the street at the row of run down buildings. Half were boarded up. The other half were vandalized and I assumed nobody cared enough to do anything about it. They were all dark inside. One of the buildings didn’t have a door and a pile of dirty, pink insulation lay just past the threshold.

“I thought you said this was the street!” 

“It is,” Carl said, walking right toward one of the boarded up buildings, “this is it!”

He pulled the door open and took a step inside, leaving me behind.

“What the hell, man, wait for me!”

I ran after him, not wanting to be left alone outside, wherever I was. I followed him inside. The smell of wet carpet and cheese greeted me at the door. Carl stood at a desk talking to a bald, middle aged man typing on a computer. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I noticed an empty box of Little Caesar’s pizza laying open next to his keyboard. Carl gestured toward me then said something to him. The man craned his fat neck to take a look at me. He nodded. Then Carl waved me forward. I walked through the short narrow hallway and stood at the desk with Carl. The man cleared his throat.

“Since this is your first time here, your first two hours are free. Any extra time after that will be ten dollars per hour. Pick a computer. Have fun.” He said in a bored voice, as if he’s somehow said this a million times. Carl turned to me.

“Okay man, let’s have some fun!”

Following Carl, I turned the corner and saw about twenty five or thirty computers, more than half occupied with people silently clicking with headphones on. From the foyer I never would have believed that the bald man wasn’t alone in this dump. Carl was unreachable. He swiftly filled one of the empty seats and put on the headphones that hung by each computer. He sat down next to a guy wearing a black Slayer shirt and young woman with dreadlocks wearing a brown hoody many sizes too large for her. I stood motionless for a minute. I wanted to sit beside him but there was no space. I found a spot next to a tall, thin boy with a buzz cut. As soon as I sat down, seemingly from nowhere, a man wearing a cowboy hat and holding two Big Gulp cups sat down next two me. One of his cups was obviously a slushy drink, but I couldn’t figure out what the other one was for. He set the mysterious cup down next to my right hand then turned to me with a brown smile.

“Watch my ‘tuner’” he whispered, followed by a wink. I forced a terrified smile then looked away.

The desktop on my computer was filled with icons for games. I didn’t recognize many of them. I clicked on one that seemed like fun. It was a first person shooter game with poor graphics. It was a ‘click to fire’ sort of game. I swivelled in my chair and looked over at Carl. His face was no more than ten inches from his computer screen and his right hand clicked furiously. I turned back toward my computer and tried to play the game I chose. After I was somewhat comfortable and almost enjoying myself, the cowboy next to me picked up the cup by my right hand and spat brown juice over his bottom lip using the cup to catch it. I felt my shoulders shudder. That was enough for me. I exited the game and stood up from my chair. Looking over at Carl, I noticed he was still having a great time, rocking back and forth in his seat, his hand still clicking. I walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, I think I’m ready to go home now.” I said quietly, realizing I was the only one stand up or talking. Carl removed his headphones.

“What? Did you say you’re done?”

“Yeah, I’ve been playing for about twenty minutes. I think I’m done.”

“Aw man, I just started playing!”

“You can stay, but I’m going to walk home.” He momentarily looked back to his computer. 

“Ah, shit, you made me die!” He said, pushing his mouse away with frustration. “You’re no fun, man. I’ll see you later then, I guess.”

“Sorry,” I said, feeling guilty. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

I stuck my hands in my pockets and looked at the floor as I walked past the bald man at the desk. He kept his eyes glued to his computer while noisily chewing a large piece of gum.

“See ya, kid.” was all he said.

“Bye.” I kept my eyes on the floor.

I stepped outside and inhaled the biggest breath of thirty degree air I could fit in my lungs. It was beautifully fresh compared to what was in that place. Staring out at the foreign looking neighbourhood and litter, I contemplated calling my parents for a ride. But that would mean asking somebody to use their phone, namely the bald man. And even if I called, how would I explain where I was? So I retraced my steps the best I could. After a bit of wandering, I found my way home, but I never saw Carl again.