Through Different Eyes

by Karen Charleson

  “For sure, Brenda. Definitely. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

  And just like that, the matter seemed to be settled. Monica had that magic to just make things happen. It was impossible for Brenda not to be swept up in her aunt’s plans. A part of her felt like she should not be doing this at all, that it was too soon for her to be returning to school, but another part of her was overwhelmingly eager at the prospect. Anyway, it was too late to back out now. She had started the ball rolling by telling Monica. “I’d really like to try,” Brenda said to her mother and Monica. “I could go at the beginning of September and see how it all works out.”

  Ruby and Monica nodded. The matter was definitely settled.

  “I’ve got to get those kids,” her mother announced even as she was already rising to call them.

  “I’ll be back with Jazz — when?” Monica rose to leave. “I guess you’ll be doing fish. I’ll keep her till suppertime, if that’s okay?”

  Brenda smiled in agreement. Then, sitting alone at the kitchen table, she began to think about her future.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Nona did her best to enjoy every bit of the summer days with her son and grandchildren. Charlie, Molly, and young Harry, Jen, and Maureen were visiting for two short weeks. Even so, before anyone else was up, she would gaze out her window and wonder how the Joes were coping with the new baby. Some mornings, she watched Martin and his boy walking down to the boat to go fishing. She did not wave though; there was something about it being so early in the day that made the watching a little too deliberate, almost like spying. Most of her cares and concerns were with her own immediate family. Her house was busy again. She proudly introduced her grandchildren to close and distant relatives every time they went to the beach or the floats or the store. Nona’s world was full to bursting.

  She had just finished mopping her kitchen floor, and she was chopping potatoes, onions, and carrots for a pot of soup. Molly had insisted on doing the breakfast dishes before she and Charlie and the kids left for the lake. They would be back soon. Intent on preparing lunch, Nona jumped when she heard the rapid tapping on her door. Carolyn stood outside with her own grandchild in her arms. Nona had neither seen nor spoken with her cousin for weeks. She felt obliged to invite her inside for a cup of tea.

  At first, Nona assumed that Carolyn was there to show off her grandson. A closer look at the woman’s flushed face told a different story. When she offered to take the baby so Carolyn could drink her tea, her cousin thrust the child at her. She spoke in a torrent, her words tumbling into one another. It was a lucky thing that Charlie and Molly had taken the kids out. If they had been home, Nona would have been too distracted to ever piece together Carolyn’s latest outpouring.

  “Where is Charmayne?” she asked her cousin in frustration.

  “She’s gone,” Carolyn moaned.

  “Where?” Nona thought that perhaps Charmayne had gone out visiting or even into Port Hope.

  “Gone. Back to Vancouver.”

  “Without the baby?” Nona had known Charmayne was irresponsible, but to leave her new baby behind would be too much.

  Carolyn began to cry in earnest. Her shoulders shook; tears flowed and ran down her cheeks. Nona could not even pass her a tissue because her arms were cradling the sleeping infant. There was nothing for her to do but gently rock the child and wait for Carolyn to calm down.

  Between sniffles, Carolyn began to tell Nona what had happened. The telling seemed to stifle her tears, but anger replaced them. Charmayne, it seemed, had come back to Kitsum with her son after a huge fight with her husband in Vancouver. During that fight, Charmayne had admitted to her husband that he was not the baby’s father. John — that was his name — had promptly kicked Charmayne and the baby out of their apartment. Then Charmayne had hired a friend to drive her to Kitsum. By the time they had arrived at Carolyn’s house, she had decided that she wanted her husband back, and that she would resolve their argument by leaving baby Dwayne with his grandmother.

  “Charmayne will change her mind. Come to her senses.”

  “No…no she won’t. She’s already gone, Nona. Gone for good.”

  As near as Nona could make out from the garbled story, her cousin had woken up to the baby’s screams early that morning. She had waited in her bed for Charmayne to see to Dwayne, but the baby had kept crying. When she thought that something might be wrong, she went to see for herself. Knocking on Charmayne’s door, there was no answer, just Dwayne’s gasping cries. Opening the bedroom door, Carolyn found her grandson in the middle of the bed. Charmayne was nowhere to be found. It was already starting to get bright out. Charmayne’s friend was not on the couch where he had been sleeping. The car was gone from the road outside the house. Then she saw the note in Charmayne’s handwriting on the table. She could not read it right away. Dwayne needed a bottle first.

  If Nona understood correctly, during an argument the night before, Carolyn had told her daughter that she would not be able to look after Dwayne while she was still working. Charmayne had yelled at Carolyn that she had no choice. The friend had stepped in and told Charmayne to settle down, and to stop yelling at her mother. Charmayne had taken baby Dwayne to her room and had stayed there for the rest of the night.

  After her grandson had calmed down enough to quietly take the bottle — the poor child was famished — Carolyn had read her daughter’s letter. It was all about how much she realized that she loved her husband, and how she needed to return to beg his forgiveness. She also admitted to past mistakes and vowed not to repeat them. Carolyn sounded proud of that part, but Nona shook her head sadly. The letter said that Charmayne needed a fresh start with John. That was why she had decided that her mother should keep Dwayne. If she did not want to keep him, she should give him to his real father. That man, according to Charmayne, was Martin Joe. Charmayne had known all along, and she had told her husband because she could not bear to deceive him any longer.

  “You see what I have to do?” Carolyn asked, seeking agreement.

  Nona did not see at all. She could make little sense out of what Carolyn had just told her. “Take care of the baby,” she ventured.

  Carolyn looked at Nona like she was stupid. “I want you to come with me,” she said. “He’s your relative.”

  “My relative?”

  “Martin, of course.”

  It was only then that Nona realized what Carolyn was up to. There was no way she was taking part.

  “Is he home?” Carolyn demanded. “Martin. Is he home?”

  “Let’s just have another cup of tea,” Nona offered feebly. She was still holding Dwayne. To her surprise, Carolyn remained seated and poured herself another cup.

  “Is he home?” she asked again.

  “Yes, he’s home. But wait a minute…what if he’s not the father?”

  Then Carolyn revealed that Martin already knew he was the baby’s father. She had told him so herself only the day before. After Charmayne had first explained the situation to her, Carolyn had waited to see Pacific Queen enter the harbour. Then she had gone down to wait on the dock for Martin to come up from the floats. She had waited for over an hour. The man had tried to walk right by her with a brisk nod, but she had stopped him right in his tracks with her news.

  Carolyn had thought then that Charmayne would be staying in Kitsum with her son. She had thought that she would need help and that Martin should provide for his own child. The man had only stared coldly at her for a moment before making his way home. “There’s no way he’s told Ruby,” Carolyn concluded.

  Nona was amazed. Even as upset as her cousin was, she could not resist a poke at Ruby. After all these years, too. There was enough trouble already. “Maybe you should think about this for a few days before going to Martin’s,” Nona tried. “Maybe Charmayne will be back.”

  “She’s not coming back. I know Charmayne.”

  Still determine
d, Carolyn stood up. She bent over Nona and made sure the baby’s blankets were wrapped properly. She tossed a diaper bag over her shoulder and took the child. With renewed vigour, she strode out of Nona’s kitchen.

  Nona could only stare at Carolyn’s back as she crossed the street and headed straight for the Joe house. She was inside for less than five minutes. Nona watched in amazement as her cousin nearly ran — without baby Dwayne — out again and past Nona’s house down the trail. Nona was not certain, but she could swear that Carolyn had glanced up at her open window with a look of defiance.

  It was not long before Charlie, Molly, and their kids piled back into Nona’s kitchen. The fish soup was still cooking because she had spent so much of the late morning listening to Carolyn and trying to convince her to alter her plans. Charlie told Harry, Jen, and Maureen that they could play outside near the house for another half hour and out they went. Nona had already let them take a pair of old blankets and the worn bench from her smokehouse to make forts along the trail.

  Before she had even begun to tell Charlie about what had gone on that morning, her son asked her if something was wrong. Her dismay must have been that obvious. Charlie would remind her that none of this was her problem, but even so, the events and news had left her feeling stressed, tired, and above all, confused. She could not believe the way Charmayne and Carolyn had acted, or the way they had treated a precious baby. Nor could she believe that Martin was involved. Martin and Ruby had one of the most stable marriages in Kitsum. What was going on with the world?

  Nona set her soup pot to simmer and sat down. She related everything she could recall from Carolyn’s visit and subsequent actions that morning to Charlie and Molly. It must have made for quite a story because neither of them made a sound or interrupted her flow of words. When Nona had finished talking, it was her son who spoke first.

  “Carolyn is nuts. Charmayne too.”

  Molly shook her head. “How could a mother leave her new baby? Or a grandmother turn away her own grandchild?”

  Charlie made a comment about not knowing what a busy neighbourhood his mother lived in. It was not that funny, but they laughed nervously, glad for a break from the tension.

  “Did Martin really fool around with Charmayne?” Charlie was serious again.

  Nona nodded. “It was early fall, or at least that’s what Carolyn told me. It was big gossip around Kitsum for a while. Ruby left for a few days and everything, so I guess it must have been true.”

  Charlie gave a low whistle. The news surprised him. It certainly had surprised Nona. Then the kids raced back in and Nona set the table. They were nearly finished lunch before Charlie offered her his opinion.

  “It’s all going to work out, you know. That’s how things go. You think everyone in Kitsum is crazy, absolutely haywire, and then all the stuff that seemed impossible, and all the problems that seemed insurmountable, they somehow get resolved. And life goes on slowly, bumpily, but happily enough, as it should. If anyone can overcome problems, it’s Martin and Ruby. Next summer, just you wait, Mom — no one will even remember that there was ever trouble.”

  It was a long speech for Charlie. His children — hearing the gravity in their father’s voice but not understanding what he was talking about — stared expectantly at the adults. Nona and Molly remained silent.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Now that Brenda knew that she was going back to school, her life seemed to flow smoothly and quickly. She was getting along well with her mother again. The tension between herself and her aunt had not disappeared — it would be a lie to pretend that it was completely gone — but her feelings of anger and animosity had definitely lost some of their raw power. Even Jasmine seemed to be calmer and more content. The busiest summer fishing was over and her father was often returning home in the early afternoons instead of late at night. Some days the Queen did not even leave the float. Her father’s plan to bring the whole family to Vancouver for the Pacific National Exhibition, or the PNE, as everyone called it, was causing a whirlwind of excitement. He had already arranged to borrow a van that belonged to his parents so that there would be room for everyone. The kids talked about little else. The entire household was in a good mood.

  Everyone was at home that day; they were all eating lunch at the kitchen table. Her father and Junior had been working on the boat. Summer camp was over. School was only a little over a week away. Becky and Millie were in the middle of some ridiculous argument about the breed of a neighbour’s old dog. There was a knock at the front door and Junior went to answer it.

  “Dad,” he called from the next room.

  Brenda could not identify the woman’s voice. Judging by the puzzled look on her mother’s face, Brenda guessed that she did not recognize it at first either. Even the girls fell silent.

  “Here,” the unknown voice declared. “He’s your son.”

  Brenda saw her mother freeze. Thomas looked from his mother to Brenda as though begging some sort of explanation.

  “He’s your son,” the unknown voice repeated. “Take him.”

  Brenda saw a flicker of recognition cross her mother’s face. “Stay here,” Ruby ordered and rose to join Martin.

  “What’s going on?” Ruby demanded.

  “I’m bringing Charmayne’s baby. Charmayne and Martin’s baby,” the voice announced. “It’s about time Martin took responsibility.”

  “Settle down, Carolyn.” Her father spoke so hoarsely that his words came out almost like a growl.

  Brenda and her brothers and sisters looked apprehensively at one another. They kept quiet, afraid of missing even one word of what was being said in the other room. Then Brenda began to clue in. She had heard the rumours, and she had been able to piece together remarks made by her grandmother and Auntie Kate. There were also the things people had said to her on her walks with Jasmine, and the stuff from Junior’s friends who never realized that they could be overheard. Like just about everyone else in Kitsum, she knew that Carolyn’s daughter Charmayne was spreading it around that her baby was Martin’s child. Brenda was inclined to dismiss the notion as ridiculous, although it had been Charmayne who had fooled around with her father last fall. Yes, that whole “episode” with Charmayne had been the cause of the major fight between her mother and father. No, it really did not seem possible! Everything had blown over and was by now ancient history. How could her father actually be this baby’s father?

  “I’m leaving him here,” Carolyn asserted. “You better take him because I’m going.”

  “Here.” It was their mother’s voice. Brenda pictured her stepping forward to accept the mystery baby. Later on, her mother would admit that she had taken the baby because she was afraid that Carolyn would drop him, the way she was flinging him around and shoving him towards Martin.

  They heard the front door slam. Brenda and her siblings remained glued to their kitchen chairs. None of them knew what to say or do.

  “That woman is insane!” they heard their father roar, and then the cry of an infant. Instinctively, Brenda looked down at Jasmine even as she recognized that the screams were not hers. Becky looked frightened, and Millie appeared close to tears. Brenda waited for her parents to re-enter the kitchen, but no one came.

  “You guys should go to your room.” Brenda looked at Becky, then at Millie, and finally at Tom, letting each of them know she was absolutely serious. “Please,” she added gently. “I’ll call you soon.”

  Junior could contain himself no longer. As soon as the kids had gone upstairs, he let his words out. “What the hell?”

  Brenda and her brother could still hear the baby whimpering from the adjoining room. As though the strange sounds were calling to her, Jasmine joined in. Using her daughter almost as a shield, Brenda ventured into the living room. There on the couch, her mother was holding another baby. A baby smaller than Jazz, wrapped in a thin blue blanket. With her free hand, her mom was rummaging throu
gh a large white diaper bag. Martin stood in the middle of the room. At that moment, the father Brenda knew, the man who always seemed to be in control of himself and whatever situation he was required to handle, seemed anything but in control. He looked smaller, as though all of the air and energy had been sucked out of him. He did not even seem to see anything. Her mother was the one to find the bottle of formula and begin feeding the now gasping infant.

  “I don’t even know his name,” her mother mumbled. “She didn’t even tell us his name.”

  “Dwayne,” her father answered woodenly. “She said his name was Dwayne.”

  Ruby glared at her husband. “You better tell me what the hell is going on, Martin.”

  Brenda watched her father sink into his armchair and stare blankly ahead of him. Her mother resumed feeding the baby and waited. Yes, Ruby could wait all day if it came to that. As invisibly as Brenda had entered the living room, she left. She and Junior exchanged puzzled glances. Brother and sister sat at the table looking at one another without uttering a single word. Time passed excruciatingly slowly.

  “Junior.” Martin’s voice broke the stillness that had settled upon the entire household. His voice echoed off the walls. Junior jumped to attention. “Take the kids to visit their grandparents.”

  Brenda watched her oldest brother go upstairs and come back down with Tom, Becky, and Millie. Not even their youngest sister questioned why they were going or “if they really had to.” Brenda considered accompanying them, but decided against it. She was not one of the kids anymore; she was not a child who could be bossed out of the house. Not with Jasmine. Junior did not question her; he just led the kids outside.

  The house descended back into silence. Brenda put Jazz into her crib and paced the few steps between the table and the window. She saw old Nona looking over at their house from her porch. She must have seen Carolyn coming over with the baby and then leaving alone. Not much escaped that woman. Now she was probably craning her neck trying to see what would come next. What did she expect? Fireworks?