A Novel Todd Babiak a Thesis in the Department English Presented In

Interception: a novel Todd Babiak A Thesis in The Department of English Presented in Partial Fulfilment of the Requirements for the Degree of Master of Arts at Concordia University Montreai, Quebec, Canada Januay 1998 @ Todd Babiak, 1998 National Library Bibliothèque nationale 1+1 of,,. du Canada Acquisitions and Acquisitions et Bibliographic Services services bibliographiques 395 Wellington Street 395. rue Wellington Ottawa ON KIA ON4 Ottawa ON KIA ON4 Canada Canada YOM fim Votre rdldrenœ Our fi& Nolre rdldrence The author has granted a non- L'auteur a accordé une licence non exclusive licence allowing the exclusive permettant a la National Library of Canada to Bibliothèque nationale du Canada de reproduce, loan, distribute or sell reproduire, prêter, distribuer ou copies of this thesis in microfom, vendre des copies de cette thèse sous paper or electronic formats. la forme de microfichelfilm, de reproduction sur papier ou sur format électronique. The author retains ownership of the L'auteur conserve la propriété du copyright in this thesis. Neither the droit d'auteur qui protège cette thèse. thesis nor substantial extracts fiom it Ni la thèse ni des extraits substantiels may be printed or otherwise de celle-ci ne doivent être imprimés reproduced without the author's ou autrement reproduits sans son permission. autorisation. ABSTRACT Interception Todd Babiak This is a novel about relationships, especially familial relationships, and is primarily concemed with issues of love and violence. The story revolves around Jererny Leduc, the narrator, and his father, Glen Leduc, the Fire Chief in the fictional town of Seymour, Alberta. Jeremy is a 25 year-old university dropout and self defence instructor who returns to Seymour after the failure of both his martial arts school and his relationship with Ellie Donnelly, the lawyer he lived with for four years in Boston. In Seymour, he confronts his past and attempts to set up a framework for the future. Issues of self-protection - including the fighüng theoy of interception - haunt Jeremy as he strives to discover how to interpret his world and how to achieve some sense of goodness within it. Outside of the Leduc famiIy story and the flashbacks of Boston, the larger community of Seymour is expIored. The hcuse across the street and the events that occurred there, as well as the young people Jeremy encounters and re- encounters in the smail Western Canadian town in the inidst of Rodeo Days are of prime importance to the story. The noveI is divided into seven parts and the present- tense action takes place over seven days. iii To know oneself is to study oneself in action with another person. - Bruce Lee Carl the wooden dummy has lost an am. The men and women with note pads who represent my creditors have taken everything but Carl, and against the bare wail of the empty lofî he look like a little boy some mother has forgotten. How he came to be handicapped will remain a mystery. On the second floor of this old brick warehouse not far from the Commercial Wharf, wind scatters the damp and twisted photographs that used to hang from my bulletin board; promo shots of me pulling am locks and triangle chokes on long- limbed students, big shot teachers from California in tank tops with a hand on my shoulder. smiling. Outside these open windows, the clammy mist that settles on Boston has settled on Boston. The rain doesn't fail, it just is. And I am a bankrupt. In my school. 1 can hear myself counting to ten. to twenty, repeating everything I had heard. to move Iike water, hit harder, faster, to throw from the hip, and stop telegraphing attacks and weaknesses. Hide your weaknesses. students. Bury them. The echoes of my steps crack against the walls, so I tiptoe. 1 sneak through my school as if something remained that 1 might insult. By the corner window with the broken latch is the hook where the red heavy bag swung and creaked. On the back wall. opposite the windows. are empty shelves where the boxing gloves and fake knives and pads and headgear would sit, and wait. On the hardwood floor near the central pillar is the bloodstain - my blood - now obscured by the accumulated dust and hair and other nastiness that has made its way in through the windows. Gone are the flags representing the ongins of fighting systems. gone is the long wall mirror, the mats, and in the lobby my couch and desk. A small tornado whips some of the dust up so it hisses against the wails and nps at the yellow Always Beware sign stapled above the entrance to the studio. Always Beware... I reaiize it isn't the flashiest or cleverest thing to put above a door; it might as well be It Hurts To Get Kicked In The Face. ElIie once suggested 1 tack my Bruce Lee noster up there, the one from Enter the Dragon where he is bleeding from long slices across his chest and ready, ready. Of course 1 had reservations, suspecting she just thought he was sexy. Why didn't they take dI of Car1 the wooden dummy? They might have gotten $200 for him, or more; if not at the auction, at the Kung Fu and Tai Chi place on Hanover Street. Even though he is an amputee. I would love to take Carl home. to Seymour. For repairs. But the hockey bags are aiready full of clothes, gloves, wrestling shoes. and other small remernbrances. so 1 have no space for hirn. Carl is a sacrifice. In the bus on the way to the airport. someone has dragged a finger through the condensation on the window beside me. The bus is full, and I'm sure it's been full al1 rnoming, half the city breathing and sweating that layer of wet on the window, so the valentine heart sorneone dretv is a d.eep heart. dripping. 1 wonder if that someone washed up with soap and water before eating the chocolate chip cookie in his lunchbag. 1 wonder if that someone didn't, and the breath and sweat of four thousand secretaries and salesmen jumped into someone as he Iicked his fingers. Monday moming and eveyone is coffee and perfume. Through the lines of the heart, rain; a grey Iayer of Boston washes off the stone and bricks and into the sewers. 1 can't focus this last look at churches and Marlboro billboards because the shakiness of the bus mingled with the heat and smell of us al1 wiIl make me queasy and 1'11 have to ask the driver to stop, making America Iate. To obscure it, to make the ci@ dicvyear, 1 take a deep breath and blow on the heart. When I declared bankruptcy, 1 hid $4000 in an account my rnom set up for me in the Seymour Treasuy Branch a long time ago. It's stiIl oficially under her name so it can't be tracked. After reading the ist of books Ellie wanted me to read while we were stiil together, to help me gain a more sophisticated understanding of the world and the hearts of men. 1 planned on using the four grand to sit around in my apartment, rent rnovies, and masturbate into socks. To dnnk gin and tonics until my liver failed. Until I died or went so crazy the buuing in the back of my head whispered away like an old bdloon. Last night my younger brother Denton called. and changed rny mind. In the customs Iine-up at Logan airport, 1 recognize a couple of men who trained with me in the Massachusetts Corrections workshop 1 used to run on weekends; actual cops never signed up, only little guys with poor eyesight or nervous conditions who couldn't make the regular police force. 1 taught them joint locks, mostly, and aggressive simulations. These two guys were pretty good students. smart enough, but since 1 can't stomach any stories today about how this cool Jujitsu move worked in that situation. Stones about ass kicking here and crook busting there, 1 turn away from them. And 1 tum away from thern because I'rn ashamed of what has happened, ashamed of rny student Bobby Butlas, who killed a boy. To the reporters and everyone eIse, 1 said: 1 teach self defence. What did 1 do wrong? What? They had some pretty good answers. Bye, Boston. My younger brother Denton cdled me up last night to tell me about Nick Lozinski and the Plum House. About how it's spnng in Seymour, ripe, and sweet smelling. When he cailed I was in the process of getting drunk for the first time in a long time, one-ounce Bombay Sapphire gin and tonics with lime, and feeling very strongly about Chet Baker. Drinking is tough. 1 found, when you're living alone on the eleventh floor of a studio apartment and tying to dnnk. truthfully only waiting for some great beauty to walk through the door and find you alone, and drinking, and listening to moony Chet Baker. You want her to see you as the sexiest black-and- white film star, maybe see how thoughtful you realIy are. And of course fdl in love with you. But it was Iate when Denton hung up, and my door was locked, and 1 don't know my neighbours. Two days ago, Denton said. Nick Lozinski ripped off a bunch of money from work, bought a black Jeep Cherokee Sport Limited Edition with an automatic sunroof and goId trirn, drank himseIf nuts, seriously injured a three year-old girl, and crashed into the front door of the PIum House.

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