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Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 1

CHALK
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 2
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 3

CHALK
by
DOUG DIACZUK

WINNER OF THE
38TH ANNUAL
3-DAY NOVEL WRITING
CONTEST

ANVIL PRE SS / VANCOUVER

Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 4

Copyright © 2016 by Doug Diaczuk

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any

means without the prior written permission of the publisher, with the
exception of brief passages in reviews. Any request for photocopying or
other reprographic copying of any part of this book must be directed in
writing to access: The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency, One
Yonge Street, Suite 800, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, M5E 1E5.

Anvil Press Publishers Inc.

P.O. Box 3008, Main Post Office
Vancouver, B.C. V6B 3X5 CANADA
www.anvilpress.com

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Diaczuk, Doug, author

Chalk / Doug Diaczuk. — 1st edition.

Winner of the 38th Annual 3-Day Novel Contest.

ISBN 978-1-77214-089-7 (PDF)

I. Title.

PS8607.I213C43 2016 C813’.6 C2016-903991-9

Printed and bound in Canada

Cover design by Derek von Essen
Interior by HeimatHouse
Represented in Canada by the Publishers Group Canada
Distributed by Raincoast Books

The publisher gratefully acknowledges the financial assistance of the

Canada Council for the Arts, the Canada Book Fund, and the Province
of British Columbia through the B.C. Arts Council and the Book Pub-
lishing Tax Credit.
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 5

For J. M.W.
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 6
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 7

“There’s always something within us that wants to be

noticed, to be held within someone’s gaze, for how else
might we be loved? Even in our lowest moments, when
our desire for invisibility is at its greatest, there will
always be that little voice that softly cries out, against
all hope and reason, look at me, see me.”

—Jonathan Goldstein, “Being Invisible,”

Wiretap – CBC Radio One
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 8
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 9

Chalk Flowers
his is you. You are thirty years old, single, and live in a
T one-bedroom apartment with beige-coloured walls, a tel-
evision with a snowy screen, and curtains that diffuse light
rather than block it. You lie awake in the sickeningly yellow
morning light, staring up at the ceiling, trying to think of a
reason to get out of bed. This is your life.
You walk into the grocery store and sing the song play-
ing on the intercom quietly under your breath. The same
songs play on an endless loop on a Tuesday afternoon and
you feel sorry for the employees who have to listen to the
same songs over and over again for eight hours a day. In
the frozen food aisle, a tall, skinny kid offers you a sample
of cheese on a toothpick. You take one and comment that
it is sharp because you remember seeing the word sharp on
a block of cheddar cheese once. You ask for another one.
You say again that it is sharp, sharper than the last sample
and you take another without asking. The kid does not stop
you, so you take another, and then another, until your
mouth is full of sharp cheese and your hand cradles a minia-
ture woodpile of used toothpicks. Through your stuffed
mouth you ask why the cheese samples are being handed

«9»
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 10

out in the frozen foods section and the kid looks through
you at the frozen pizzas in the case behind you and doesn’t
say anything. You place the toothpicks on the blue table-
cloth because there is no garbage can and you thank him
for the cheese and tell him that you might buy some. When
you get to the aisle with the blocks of cheese stacked like
bricks, you look for the word sharp, but can’t find it any-
where, so you move along, a little dismayed and ashamed
for having lied.
At the express checkout, a young woman with her hair tied
in a ponytail slightly off-centre starts to ring through your
items. About halfway through your order she stops and you
can see by the way her eyes dart back and forth, and the
nearly imperceptible way her lips move, that she is counting
how many items you have. It’s over twelve. I’m sorry, she
says, the minty freshness of her gum reaching you on the
other side of the black conveyor belt that holds your thirteen
items, you have too many items. You will have to put some-
thing back. Can you make an exception? you ask. Sorry, rules
are rules. You pick up a jar of green olives and hand them to
her, saying that you don’t really care for olives anyway. She
stands there, holding the jar, unsure of what to do with it,
then she places it on the edge of the till, next to the register
and the “this till is closed” sign, and you ask what will happen
to the jar now. She ignores your question and brushes the
items over the red blinking light under a piece of glass until
it beeps and then she moves on to the next. You tell her she’s
ugly. She ignores you, and when she finishes scanning the
items, she punches in a total and announces it to you with lit-

« 10 »
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 11

tle enthusiasm. She looks directly through you to the shelf of

candy bars and celebrity magazines. You’ve said this to her
before and she thinks that you say it because you are just as
ugly on the inside. It doesn’t change that she is ugly on the
outside. You turn around, as though you are trying to figure
out what she is looking at, and pick up a magazine with a
photo of a woman with large fake lips and large fake breasts
and place it on the conveyor belt and say, this too.

ON THE BUS there are no seats, so you sit down on the

lap of a very large man whose body spills out onto a second
seat. You can feel his breath on the back of your neck. It is
hot and moist and smells of onions or sharp cheddar cheese.
He tries to move you by bucking his stomach and you’re
tempted to say wee, but instead you brace yourself against
the seat in front of you, your grocery bags knocking back
and forth, the cans of tomato soup colliding with the jar of
peanut butter and the carton of milk just sitting there.
What’s the matter with you? Get off me, the fat man says.
You give him a half turn and say, oh, I’m sorry, is this seat
taken? He pushes you off and you nearly fall over but catch
yourself in time. Raising one of your plastic bags, you point
to the half seat next to him and ask if that one is taken, too.
He looks past you and out the window at the passing cars
and colourful graffiti on the colourless walls of the buildings.
The other passengers grip the bags resting on their laps a
little tighter as you scan the rest of the bus looking for a seat.
You can’t hold onto anything because the white plastic han-

« 11 »
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 12

dles of the grocery bags are wrapped around your hands,

turning your fingers bright red. You stand in the middle of
the aisle, feet apart, leaning backward and forward with the
motion of the bus, using your grocery bags for balance.
On the walk from the bus stop to your building you take
care to step around every piece of garbage. You live in per-
petual fear that you will bring home something on your shoe
that you never intended to—a cigarette butt, a piece of gum,
a used condom, a flyer advertising discount laser eye sur-
gery. On the sidewalk outside of your building, two little
girls are drawing flowers in brightly coloured chalk and you
have to step around them. You pause and look down at the
drawings, admiring their dedication to the craft. What is it?
you ask. The little girl closest to you says, with the matter-
of-factness of a child, that it is a flower. What kind of flower?
She looks down at the sidewalk and thinks for a moment.
Her hands are covered in blue and pink dust and you try to
imagine what the city would look like if all the dirt was as
colourful as the little girl’s hands. You grow tired of waiting
for an answer and say that it doesn’t look like any flower
that you have ever seen before. Both girls look up at you
with blank faces and then continue to shade in the petals of
this strange, alien flower, each one a different colour.
Outside your building, a man with thinning brown hair
combed over a shining bald head waves to you and says
hello. You cannot wave back because your arms are weighted
down from carrying your grocery bags and you don’t say
hello back because you don’t know who this man is. When
he gets closer he apologizes and says that he thought you

« 12 »
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 13

were someone else. Who did you think I was? you ask. He
tells you that it’s not important and apologizes and then walks
on. As you walk up the steps to your building you watch the
man casually walking down the sidewalk, the back of his
head balding even more than the top, and you wonder who
he thought you were and why you can’t be that person. Be-
fore entering the building, you lift up your feet one at a time
and examine the bottoms of your shoes.
Later that night you invite a friend over that you don’t par-
ticularly like. You drink a beer in your bedroom before he
comes and hide the empty can under your bed with the dozen
or so full ones. You drink another one, knowing that he will
be late. When he arrives, you offer him a beer and tell him
that there are some in the fridge. He tells you that there are
none and you say that you must have forgotten to pick some
up. You offer him green olives instead but he says that he
doesn’t like olives. You spend the evening playing Nintendo.
When you beat him you rub it in his face and tell him that he
is a loser. What you don’t tell him is that you’ve been practic-
ing all week just so you could beat him and call him a loser.
He asks if you want to go get a drink at a bar but you tell
him that you’re pretty tired, so he leaves on his own in
search of alcohol and a woman with large breasts and red
hair that he spent an uncomfortable amount of time describ-
ing to you earlier that evening. After you retrieve the beer
from under your bed and put it back in the fridge, you drink
several more and watch video clips online. You find a clip
of a politician shooting himself on live TV and you wonder
why you’ve never heard of this before. The video is fuzzy

« 13 »
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 14

and it is difficult to make anything out, but the existence of

this clip unsettles you. For the rest of the night you wonder
if the blood from the back of your head would create pretty
floral patterns on the wall behind the couch and whether or
not the building manager or police officer or fireman or
neighbour would comment on how pretty the patterns look
when they find you a week from now.
At work you place a paper clamp on the end of your finger
and leave it there until your finger turns dark purple. You
start to worry that your tie is too tight and that your face will
turn the same colour and will frighten your co-workers. You
turn to the woman in the opposite cubicle and tell her that in
1991 a politician shot himself on live TV and that there is a
video of it just because you decide that people should be
warned that something like that exists out there and they
should prepare themselves for it just in case they happen to
stumble upon it late in the night.
In a meeting you sit opposite the large windows so you
can look out at the tops of the other buildings. What would
happen if there was a fire and we were trapped in here, you
wonder. You like to think that you would jump out the win-
dow with everyone else, but you’re not so sure. Then you
wonder how it would feel if you were ever sucked out of an
airplane flying at thirty thousand feet in the air still strapped
to your seat. If you are wearing enough clothes, you can
hold them out and slow down your descent like cartoon
characters do and if you are above water, you can point your
feet down and slip beneath the surface like a pencil, push off
from the bottom, and resurface unhurt. But then you

« 14 »
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 15

remember reading that the velocity is so great that your

clothes will be torn from your body as you fall and you will
become nothing but a naked body flying through the air,
unable to breathe because the air is too thin to enter your
lungs, and that hitting water at that speed is just like hitting
concrete. Afterwards your supervisor asks if you have a firm
grasp on the strategy laid out during the meeting. You tell
him that it hit you like a body hitting concrete.
That evening you decide to go to a movie just because
you don’t know what else to do. You clap after every pre-
view because you once saw an old man do this in a theatre
when you were a kid and it made you sad. You fall asleep
halfway through the movie, which surprises you because
when it first started you were annoyed by how loud the
sound was. You leave just before the movie ends, nearly run-
ning down the stairs with the thin strip of lights. You only
trip once and walk back out into the bright lights of the
lobby and you wonder why the old man in the theatre used
to clap for the previews and left before the movie ended.
When you wake up the next morning you lay in bed for
a long time, pulling at the skin on the top of your hand to
see if you are dehydrated. The phone rings and you let it
ring until the machine picks up. Your mother leaves a long
message about how Marie had her baby and that mother
and baby are doing just fine and that the baby looks like
Marie. You think about your own children, the ones you
will never meet, and you wonder what you would say to
them now if given the chance. You get up and look for an
old issue of National Geographic. When you find it, you flip

« 15 »
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 16

to the article about overpopulation and how the world’s

population will reach nine billion by the year 2040 and you
think that Marie is part of the problem.
Two days later you run into your girlfriend in a park. It
has been seventy-six days since you last saw her. She smiles
when she sees you and is acting unusually friendly. You talk
about work and she asks you how therapy is going. You lie
and tell her that it is really helping, though going to therapy
was only something you told her you would do to make her
think that you were capable of becoming a better person.
You are in the midst of complimenting her shoes when she
tells you, rather abruptly, that she is engaged. You congrat-
ulate her with every last bit of sincerity you can scrape off
the soles of your feet and she tells you not to worry, that you
will find someone. You laugh on the inside before dying a
little and agree out loud that there is someone out there for
everyone. You clench your fists inside your pockets and try
to keep your entire body from shaking. You know what’s
coming next, so you congratulate her again and then start
walking in the opposite direction.
You cry loudly on the bus ride home making the other
passengers uncomfortable. You renew your vows never to
fall in love again and this makes you feel a little better but
the other passengers even worse. You tell a woman sitting
across from you that she is beautiful and she smiles awk-
wardly, looking to the other passengers for some kind of as-
sistance. You ask her out on a date and her cheeks turn red
and she tells you that she is seeing someone. You congratu-
late her and get off at the next stop.

« 16 »
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 17

You decide that you deserve a reward for handling the

encounter in the park so well and you go to the zoo. You
throw empty peanut shells into the open enclosures until
you are told to stop by a zoo employee. You spend the next
half hour standing in front of a glass cage, looking through
the invisible bars, the illusion of freedom, or maybe impris-
onment, and watch a gorilla that appears to be licking its
fingers, but the leathery grey skin never changes colour and
its eyes never look away from the sky.
That evening you drink the rest of the beer in the fridge,
putting on a single shoe to crush the cans when they are
empty. The TV is on but you are not watching it. The week’s
events play over and over again in your head—falling out
of the office window, landing in the ocean but never touch-
ing the bottom, your girlfriend looking so beautiful, the girl
on the bus looking so afraid, and the gorilla lapping its
strange tongue across its fingers over and over again. Your
head starts to bob up and down and you feel like you could
sleep for days so you pour out the last half of the last beer
and leave the empty can on the kitchen counter. You fall
asleep on the couch with the TV tuned to the weather chan-
nel and still wearing one shoe.
The next day you are too hungover to go to work so you
call in sick. You spend most of the morning debating whether
you should go in ever again and you decide that you will see
how you feel tomorrow morning. You watch a pornographic
movie but you are still too hungover to masturbate, so with
unusual clarity you wonder what the actress’s breasts feel
like in real life. She says that her breasts are so soft to the

« 17 »
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 18

camera and you thank her for her honesty. After you finish
masturbating, you no longer wonder what her breasts feel
like or if they really are as soft as she says.
At work you stick the end of a staple into your index fin-
ger and squeeze out a drop of blood. You touch the finger
to your front teeth and taste the richness of the blood,
though you wonder if you are actually tasting the dirty metal
of the staple. You start to worry that there are bloodstains
on your teeth, which could upset your co-workers, so you
walk to the bathroom without talking to anyone and exam-
ine your teeth in the mirror. You cannot see any blood on
your teeth even though you can still taste it.
There is a message on the answering machine from your
mother when you get home. You can hear the worry in her
voice as she strains to tell you that Marie’s baby is still in the
hospital. You play the message again and listen to the sound
of your mother’s voice. It sounds so small, like it could fit
inside the little black machine, smaller still to fit on a single
side of the tape in the cassette. Things are looking bad, you
really should come, Marie needs the support. You stand in the
hallway in front of the machine still holding onto your brief-
case and running your tongue over your teeth. You secretly
feel guilty for wishing something bad would happen to
someone, even though you never specifically wished any-
thing bad would happen to Marie or her baby.
You call your girlfriend and tell her about Marie’s baby.
She shows genuine concern and then you tell her that you
can still taste blood on your teeth and she tells you that she
has to go. You practice playing video games for two hours

« 18 »
Chalk_Interior_5.25 x 7.5 8/14/16 8:17 PM Page 19

and then call your friend and ask him if he would like to
come over and to bring something to drink. He tells you that
he can’t tonight because he has a date. You tell him that you
hate him and that he can never come over again because he
is a loser. He laughs at this and you hang up the phone, fairly
certain that you will never talk to him again.
You place two six-packs and a tin of mints on the con-
veyor belt and ask the ugly cashier if this counts as thirteen
items. She rings your order through without saying any-
thing and when she hands you your receipt you lie and tell
her that she is beautiful. She looks right through you to the
large storefront windows where the bus you were supposed
to catch speeds by. Rather than wait for the next one, you
decide to walk the fourteen blocks back to your building. At
the fourth bus stop down the street you see the fat man sit-
ting on the bench. You sit down next to him and ask him
how his day is going. He doesn’t remember you and he tells
you that this day is just like any other day and you laugh
louder than is necessary. He shakes his head and rests his
arms on his belly that nearly extends past his knees and he
makes you feel small. You tell him that he is beautiful, too,
and he tells you to go fuck yourself. I think I’ll walk the rest
of the way home, you say, and stand up, extending a hand
to bid the man farewell. He looks at it and then looks past
you for the bus that is two stops down. It was nice talking
with you, you say, then pick up your bags and start back
down the street.
You step over the flower that you have never seen be-
fore and walk around it in circles to try and look at it from

« 19 »
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