Still Sharp

Where am I?

How much did I drink?

What is that taste. In my mouth.

Lemon.

Limoncello? Fucking Limoncello. How strong is…?

How long have I been here? Did I miss the fireworks?

I didn’t… I was drinking it like wine. Fuck.

I didn’t know it was so strong…

Stop embarrassing yourself. Get the fuck up…

The world is blurred. Sharpen it. Sharpen up.

What would she say if she could see you now?

Pull yourself together for fuck’s sake.

Sober the fuck up.

How much is left in me?

“Tom?” a voice reaches me.

I know that voice. I know her.

“Jesus. Tom are you ok?”

This voice is a melody normally but right now it slams my head. Answer her.

“Tom. It’s Ghida.”

Summon yourself. Sharpen.

“Ghida. Yes I know. Yes… I’m ok. Don’t worry Ghida.” I mumble.

“What happened?”

“Limoncello happened.”

“What?”

“Never mind. I’m ok.” I groan.

She’s worried. “Tom, I’m leaving. I’m going to take an Uber. Do you want to come with me? Can you get up?”

Good question. Can I?

“Yeah… I need to go.”

“Are you sure you’re okay.”

“I can do this. Yes.”

Get up. GET UP.

What did she teach you? Stand up straight.

Her hand pulls me a bit. I stabilise. Left and right. Stairs. Winding. It’s Mike’s place. I can move. I know the way. It stinks. Landlord won’t be happy. Doesn’t know how.

Outside now. Familiar shape. Holding a phone. Swaying a bit. Unstable posture.

“Karim?” She asks.

“Hey…” his voice slurred. Even I can tell.

I’m sharpening now.

He’s getting an Uber. We ask to join. He accepts. We help him, he’s confused too. We’re in. Safe for now.

“Karim. We’ll add our stops. Ok? Can I have your phone?”

“Huh? Just Uber from my place…” slurring.

Doesn’t make sense. Geographically speaking.

“No, Karim. That doesn’t make sense” she says.

He doesn’t want. What’s his game. Fuck this.

“Give it to me.” It wasn’t a request.

I’m still fucked. But this is a phone and I know what to do. Uber. User interface is familiar. Polished. Don’t care for the typography. Add destination. My address. Loading. Sluggish interface. Could be improved. Accept charges. I have the money. Sort it out later. I don’t want to vomit. Hand back the phone. I’m still fucked.

“Done.”

I slouch. Modulate my breathing. Control my body. Don’t vomit.

“What did you guys do?” he is still slurring.

“I’ll pay the difference. Don’t worry.”

“What the fuck.” he is fucked too.

My skin is clammy. Nauseous.

Sharpening. Slowly. We both are.

Driver says something. In French. Annulé… Cancelled?

“Karim. Did you cancel the Uber?”

“What? No. Did you? What did you guys do?”

“Tom just added a stop Karim… he didn’t cancel it. You did.”

“Karim…”

Some more sharpness would be handy now. Sharpen. Please.

This is a highway. Driver searches for new jobs. Must stop it. Can’t get dropped on a highway.

“J’ai de l'argent. Si tu peux aller à Bastille. J’ai 40 euros. Ça marche? Désolé monsieur.”

My French wasn’t bad. Maybe I should get drunk more often.

“Ouais… D’accord. Ça marche.”

Cash handed. Done.

Karim can find his own way.

Relax. Breathe. Recover. Sharpen. What a mess I am.

Can I improve my thoughts? Am I sharper now? These sentences are becoming a bit cleaner. Aren’t they? Easier to follow my thoughts.

An arm falls around her. Goddamn it Karim.

“Karim. Please don’t do that.” disdain in her voice.

I glance, he’s slouched and he’s a mess.

“Please take your arm away Karim.”

I don’t really want to have to intervene… I’m not sharp. Listen to her man.

Fuck. Can’t you just read the room?

“Karim…” I say. I pull myself up, lift his hand and push it to his side.

“Stay in your lane man…” My pronunciation is improving. Sharper.

It passes. The drive is smoother now – I think. But I just want to close my eyes and relax. Not going to happen though.

“Karim…” she says.

The hand is back.

“I’m paying for this Uber okay… I can put my hands wherever I want…” still slurring.

Fuck you man.

“Karim. Tom is paying for the Uber…”

Okay. Round two, I guess?

“You gotta stop man.” And I push him back again. Fuck this situation.

Streets are becoming familiar. That’s good. Nearly there.

“Where the fuck are we?” he slurs. Not happy.

“We’re in Bastille, Karim. We’re heading to Tom’s place”

“What?” he’s sharper too. “What the fuck? I’m paying for this Uber.”

“No… Karim. Tom’s paying. You cancelled the Uber.”

“You guys have hijacked my Uber…”

Christ.

“This isn’t even an Uber anymore man…”

I can’t understand their next words. Either of them.

Obviously not English. But also not French. Arabic? Yes. Arabic.

They talk faster. The words are intense. The sounds are sharp.

It’s a squabble. Words are becoming weapons.

I don’t need to know the words to get the meaning.

Escalating. Rapidly. Heart is starting to pump.

Shit… I’m going to need to be… sharper.

SMACK. She screams.

Now I’m sharp… Razor sharp.

My body moves fast and fluid now. Nausea is gone. Instantly. The blood transforms into adrenaline. This feels great.

No time for long sentences. Everything is perfectly sharp.

Grab his hands.

“KARIM. BACK OFF.”

She holds her face. She pulls away. Protecting a girl between you and a guy in the back of a car. Difficult.

Don’t want to hurt him. Just contain the situation. Calm it.

“You gotta settle down man.”

He’s struggling. I can hold him.

“KARIM.”

He struggles more. More and more violent. Tries to kick me too. Difficult angle.

“YOU GOTTA CALM YOURSELF THE FUCK DOWN.”

He doesn’t like that. Grip slips, he gets my lip. Doesn’t connect but stings. Will be swollen tomorrow. Shove him back. I’m just grappling.

I know I don’t know how to fight but that’s ok – I’ve been fighting my whole life.

Grab the wrists again. Squeeze, shove him back harder and make it clear. And sharp.

“KARIM IF YOU DON’T GET OUT OF THIS FUCKING TAXI RIGHT NOW I AM GOING TO FUCK YOU UP. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

That really triggers him. I see fear in his eyes. His face really changes. That face. It’s not anger or fear now. It’s venom and hate inside him.

But I’m pissed. She is still terrified. He wants to hit her and hurt us.

Car stops. Door opens. Driver is great. Five star rating. Pulls him out.

“Wait! I’ve lost my glasses…” he yells.

Oh fuck off.

“Let me just find my glasses. Please…”

Fucking hell.

“Fine… fine…” we say.

He came to his senses. He’s calm. Driver lets him go.

We search. It’s ridiculous. Found the glasses.

Without them he was less sharp. Giving them back. Mistake.

He steps out. He breaks the facade. He was never calm. The venom is completely back. No, it never left him. I see the hate. Years and years of hate.

He attacks. Violent. Violent kicks. He wants to do damage. She screams again. I pull her back and block him. Driver pulls him away. I grab the door. Close. Lock. Safe.

I jump back. Relax. Still so, so sharp.

The body knows – still not safe.

Driver is back to the wheel. Door opens behind me.

Oh fuck off.

I feel a kick to my shoulder. The body was right.

Lunatic. Loser. Fuck you. Dirty fighting. Piece of shit. She screams again.

Crowd from the street pulls him away. Grab door. Close. Lock. Safe.

“Go!” I yell. Driver gets us away. 5 stars.

Relax. Safe. Really safe. And almost home.

Hold the girl. Comfort her. She’s safe too.

Still sharp though. Can’t unsharpen. Adrenaline still working. No nausea. Can’t imagine vomiting. This is great?

Get home. Need to clean up. Girl is crying.

I am sharper than I’ve been in years and I love it.

She sits. I can’t. Blood is still pumping.

Give her a hug. Kiss her forehead.

Tell her it’s all ok. She’ll get there.

“I think that’s enough fireworks for this year.”

She laughs. She’ll get there.

I caught the end of the fireworks. And I’m still sharp.