“Yes.”
“I can’t go when you wait.”
Rook looked confused.
“Are you still waiting?” Evan said.
“Yes.”
“But I can’t go. Can you go outside?”
“No.”
“Please.”
Rook huffed. “I’ll give you one minute,” he said, and he went out and stood just beyond the door with his back against the wall. He turned his head to listen.
He waited. He watched the employees behind the counter in their brown and beige uniforms and their slim visors that hid their eyes. The two young women moved in tired motions and seemed unimpressed. They were talking, but Rook heard nothing of what they said. One of them laughed and then tried to pinch the other’s hip.
Rook looked past the two women to the windows. The sun was coming up on the glass, pale and pink and grey.
From inside the washroom, Rook heard a toilet flush. The taps at the sink ran. The sound of the water running lasted a while. Rook considered the windows and the advancing sunlight. Still the taps ran.
Finally, Rook reached for the door, but right then it swung back and Evan came out.
“What were you doing?” Rook said.
“I had to do a number two.”
Rook nodded.
Evan giggled.
“Come on,” Rook said, taking his hand. “Keep your eyes on the floor.”
Rook bought a box of muffins and donuts and a bottle of water. The young woman who had laughed earlier served them at the cash. As she handed over the box of muffins, she said, “Does your son want a free Timbit?”
Rook looked down at Evan and hesitated. Evan stared at the floor.
“No, he’s fine,” Rook said.
They sat at a two-seater table away from the counter, and Rook told Evan to eat quickly. Evan had a few bites of a fruit-filled muffin and stopped. Rook kept his eye out the window and on the door. They were both silent. A pigeon bobbed along the curb outside, pecked at something, and bobbed along again.
Evan made a popping sound with his lips, holding his muffin in his lap. He said, “Why did you throw away that gun?”
“I hate guns,” Rook said. “There isn’t anything more terrible in this world than a gun.”
Evan popped his lips again. “Why did you blow up the car?”
“Keep your voice down,” Rook said with a glance to the young women behind the counter. Then, “They would have been able to track it.”
“Who, those men?”
“Others like them. It’s a whole organization.”
Evan started to eat again. “Were they priests?” he asked.
“In a way, but not the kind that would ever hear your confession.”
“What’s confession?”
“They weren’t regular priests,” Rook said.
“They had crosses on their necks.”
“That doesn’t make a man holy.”
“What about the people in the hotel?” Evan asked. “Who were they?”
At first, Rook said nothing. Then he sighed and turned to the boy. “I’ll explain this once, so you listen. For the last six months, I’ve been looking for you, but so have other . . . people. What I didn’t know was that they were following me, and it seems I led everyone straight to you. If we’re lucky we won’t have any more trouble. But you keep your eyes open and stay by my side. There might still be others out there hunting you.”
The boy looked down at his lap.
“Finish your muffin,” Rook said.
After a little while Evan started eating the muffin again. He ate another one and two donuts. He drank his water bottle. Rook folded up the box and left it. They gathered themselves and went out and started walking west.
They walked a long way along the side of the highway and then went under the overpass and crossed onto the Queens Quay. They continued west.
“Where are we going?” Evan asked.
“To catch a train.”
–• •
When they finally reached Union Station the city had awoken and the streets and sidewalks were busy. Rook kept Evan close, holding his hand. He tried to keep to the shadows but they were shrinking fast. They entered the concourse and Rook scouted for police.
He saw them.
He stepped back behind a square column and pulled Evan with him. The concourse was busy. Over the endless sea of bobbing heads, Rook had seen a group of five police officers standing next to a bank machine, chatting. They had seemed casual, but they were vigilant, surveying the crowd.
What the hell am I doing? Rook thought. This will never work. Shaking his head, he forced away his doubt and focused on his reward. He tried to picture Allison’s face. She would be there at the end of all of this. Just get the boy to the church.
Rook peered out at the officers again and then turned and took Evan’s arm and went out.
They walked back down towards the lake and stopped when they reached the Queens Quay under the highway overpass. The nearest crosswalk was out of sight. Rook waited for a gap in the traffic and then he pushed Evan to start across.
Evan wiggled from under his hand. Rook reached and grabbed him, but Evan struggled.
“What the hell are you doing?” Rook said.
“You keep pushing and pulling me,” Evan said. “I don’t like it.”
Rook stopped. A new stream of traffic was driving past. They stepped back from the curb. For a while they said nothing, only stared at each other.
Then Evan said, “You don’t have to push me. I’m coming with you.”
“You’re not going anywhere else, that’s for damn sure.”
“You think I’m going to run away.”
Rook scowled and glanced at the passing traffic.
Evan craned his neck straight up to look at Rook and said, “I saw those cops back there. I could’ve screamed, but I didn’t. I didn’t, okay? I’m coming with you. But I don’t want to be pushed anymore.”
“Are you about done?”
“There are mean people after me. People that are trying to get me. But you won’t let them get me. Right?”
“That remains my choice.”
“I got a choice, too,” the boy said, sounding proud.
Rook looked down at the child and scratched his chin through his beard. Evan waited.
“Okay,” Rook said. “I’ll stop pushing you. But be smart and do as you’re told. Got it?”
Evan nodded, a small grin escaping him.
Rook looked to the street. There was a gap in the traffic. Without much thought, he reached out to push Evan forward again, but he stopped himself. Evan glanced up at him with an expression that, under reversed circumstances, would have fit well on Rook’s face. Rook nodded. They crossed the street to the median beside one another.
They sat down on a large weathered concrete partition under the highway overpass. It was cold in the shadow and the windswept snow covered it. The rush and noise of the traffic overhead was deafening in waves. Gazing up, Evan wondered if the highway would collapse. A stream of cars and trucks drove past on their right and then another in the opposite direction on their left. There seemed no end to the tumult of traffic and Evan, watching it all, felt dizzy and almost sick in the midst of all the motion.
He looked at his palms and he looked up at Rook. He inched closer to the man, as his large body seemed to block the wind and emit its own measure of warmth.
“Come on,” Rook said, getting to his feet.
Evan got down and followed Rook to the curb. Rook was eyeing the traffic coming down the hill from the city. He knelt and spoke close to Evan’s ear.
“When it stops, do exactly as the driver tells you.”
“When what stops?”
“The bus. Do exactly as the driver says. Do you understand?”
“Okay,” Evan said.
The traffic was coming down the hill swiftly now. Evan saw a Greyhound bus at the top of the hill, but it was still far away behind lines of traffic. His ha
nds started to sweat in the cold, and he was feeling scared. How was he supposed to do what the driver told him? He didn’t think the bus would ever stop for them.
All of a sudden Rook stumbled and put his hand on Evan’s shoulder. His legs slackened and he held onto the boy for support. Evan struggled, bracing Rook with both hands.
“What’s wrong?” Evan said.
The traffic on the hill slowed and brake lights shone red and car horns honked. Evan looked up and saw the Greyhound bus cutting into the left lane towards them.
It was going to hit them, Evan thought. He tried to step back from the curb out of its way, but it was difficult to move under Rook’s weight.
“Mr. Rook,” Evan said. “Look out!”
Rook groaned and slumped harder against him. Evan heaved his weight into Rook’s chest to knock him back out of the way, but at that moment the bus pulled to a halt upon the curb of the median.
The driver slid the side window ajar and stuck his head out. He stared straight ahead as if looking at nothing. Then he said, “Get on the bus. Come on. Let’s go, hurry up!”
Evan stood still, staring up at the driver and half-holding Rook. Then he felt Rook’s hold on him tighten, and he remembered his instructions, Rook’s words. His expression tightened with resolve.
“We’re coming,” he shouted up to the driver.
Evan started off the curb with Rook’s hand on his shoulder, Rook stumbling and groaning. Cars honked and pulled around the bus and Evan heard indiscernible shouts and calls after them, swears and curse words he knew and remembered from the tongue of his foster father.
They came around the front of the bus and Rook grabbed the door and Evan slid out from under him and ran up the steps. The driver kept staring out through the windshield and said nothing, nor did he acknowledge Evan’s entrance in any way. Rook lumbered into the bus after him.
They edged down the aisle and Rook used each headrest as a leaning post. The startled, uncertain passengers acknowledged the boy and the man with looks of curiosity, annoyance, and suspicion.
Evan went all the way to the back of the bus to find two open seats; the rest were taken. Rook waited until Evan had crawled across to the window and then flung himself down. He put his head back against the rest, closed his eyes, and let out a deep breath as if he’d been holding it this whole time. He groaned. The bus was put into gear rather suddenly and it lurched into motion.
Evan sat and watched Rook. He saw a line of blood run from the man’s nose. Rook’s hand came up and wiped it away. Then, slowly, Rook opened his eyes. The bus was lugging up the ramp onto the freeway.
Evan whispered, “Are you okay?”
Rook wiped his nose again. He breathed easy. But he said nothing.
Evan watched him with worry. His hands were still sweating, and he wanted Rook to answer him.
After a moment, he said, “Mr. Rook, what happened to you?”
“Just be quiet,” Rook said.
Evan narrowed his eyes and then he turned away and crossed his arms and looked out the window. The bus drove smoothly. Along the highway the traffic was even. The sun had risen well into a blue sky and there were only a few loose and thin clouds gathering. Evan watched the city transform into the passing of unknown streets and buildings, blurred into a grid of grey and silver motion at once enormous and miniscule. It seemed a faraway place.
Evan turned his head to look out the windows across the aisle and through the shifts of clouds he saw the lake, shimmering in the sun, and at times it looked as if the water was on fire. Streams of oncoming traffic flowed before this mirage and Evan pictured a conveyor belt of stars. There was an unusual familiarity to it all that he could not understand, and yet it comforted him.
“I’ve never left the city before,” Evan said, more to himself than anyone else.
Rook looked down at him. “Your parents never—” The words dried in his mouth, as he realized what he was saying.
Evan said nothing at first. When he spoke next, Rook thought he sounded older than his years.
“They weren’t my real parents,” Evan said. “I got placed with them a year ago.”
“You’re an orphan?”
Evan nodded. He was quiet, gazing out the window. Then he said, “The man wasn’t very nice to me. He never really wanted me around. He used to call me money. The lady didn’t really want me either, but she pretended sometimes, at least. She was nice. Adam would always just put me in my room. Even if I didn’t do anything. He’d get really mad at me and sometimes he would get really mad at Evie, too, but only when she would have a freak out and start throwing out all their stuff and saying she wanted to get better and cleaned up. Then Adam would get really angry and chase after her until she locked herself in the bathroom, and then he’d come after me and she wouldn’t stop him.”
He paused and trailed his finger along the window casing. Then he said, “One time Evie took me to this big plant place inside a glass house and it was all misty and warm when it was snowing outside. The plants were so big and there was one kind that had red leaves that looked like tongues and Evie told me it was a man-eating plant and if you got too close it would eat you. She took me for waffles after, too. Adam was working that day. That was a nice day, at least.”
Rook asked, “You don’t know who your real parents are?”
Evan shook his head. Then he said, “I know a bit. I know she was a farmer.”
“A farmer? You mean your mother?”
“That’s what they said. Adam said he read it in my file. It said I was found in a farmer’s field with her.”
“And she was your mother?”
“Yep. But she died.”
Rook took a breath as if drawing back from the boy’s comment and shook his head. “Nothing’s ever free,” he said, sounding tired. “Not a life, a breath, nothing. Someone always pays the cost.”
Evan looked up at Rook and waited until the man returned his gaze. Then in a whisper, he said, “Mr. Rook, what—”
“Just call me Rook.”
Evan paused. “Okay,” he said. “Rook, what happened to you back there?”
“We got on the bus.”
“But why did you fall over? And how did you know the bus was going to stop? Do you know the driver?”
“I do now,” Rook said and winced as if from a headache.
Evan sat and watched him, his small brow furrowed, and he scanned Rook’s face, eyes darting, as though the answer lay within the intricacies of the man’s ragged skin. Rook saw Evan studying him.
“You really want to know?” he asked.
Evan gave a clear nod.
Rook leaned down to the boy and whispered. “I made a link between the driver and myself. It was weak because I did it during the day. That’s why I needed you help. It took almost everything out of me. It would’ve been stronger if I’d conjured it at night.”
Evan said nothing, but his eyes widened.
Rook said, “I went inside the driver’s mind. I took control of him. I was him for a few moments. And I made him stop the bus.”
“You were the driver?”
“That’s right,” Rook said again. “But there was a price.”
“A price?” Evan whispered, as if it were a great secret.
Rook nodded. “It cost a piece of my own memory.”
“How much?” Evan asked.
“It depends how long I’m away from myself.” Rook shifted and pulled his coat tails out from under him. He went on. “The longer I stay in another’s mind, the more memory I must give. If I stay too long, I risk forgetting who I am completely. Becoming lost. This has happened to others. They get trapped inside someone else’s mind and go mad.”
Evan nodded. He felt he understood, but could think of little to say. He was picturing a sick-looking child, thrashing in bed while all around stood priests and doctors.
Finally, he said, “Do you have to give up a nice memory?”
“I don’t know,” Rook said. “I can’t remember.�
��
The bus drove on and for some time neither of them, nor anyone it seemed, said a word. From one of the seats ahead music played, muffled through the headphones of a sleeping passenger. Outside the windows, the city had vanished and there were now expanses of snow-covered fields and a distant ridge of rock and trees.
After a while, Evan said, “Mr. Rook—I mean Rook—where are we going?”
“Shade’s Mills,” Rook said.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a small town not too far from here.”
“Why are we going there?”
“We’re going to meet someone.”
“Who?”
“Someone at a church.”
“Who are we meeting?”
Rook realized he didn’t have an answer to that. He said nothing.
“Rook?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a family?”
“I did.”
“What happened to them?”
Rook’s expression darkened. “That’s enough chatter,” he said.
Evan started to ask another question, but right at that moment the bus swerved hard into the left lane. The driver gripped the steering wheel and pulled it back fast, his knuckles white. His heart raced as he steered the bus safely again into the centre lane. He let out his breath.
As soon as the bus was steadied, Rook sat forward and looked up and down the aisle. The light on the windows had changed. It seemed a cloud had formed over the highway, or the glass was repelling the sunlight. Rook was alarmingly aware that they were trapped inside a speeding bus.
The driver held their course, cruising, along Highway 401, southwest through The Ontario Greenbelt. The shadow Rook had noticed, or thought he’d noticed, lifted from the windows and the sunlight came back against the glass.
But something was different. Rook could feel it. The air inside the bus had changed. It was denser and heavier to breathe. Rook sniffed, catching a trace of smoke and sulfur like burning eggs.
Something had entered the bus.
Rook sat up straight in his seat. He touched Evan’s arm, and the boy looked up at him and saw the gravity in Rook’s eyes and became nervous himself.
“What is it?” Evan whispered.
“Stay calm,” Rook said.
There was an elderly woman in a blue shawl sitting three seats up the aisle from them and, slowly, she began to turn.
Only the Devil Is Here Page 5