Elinor pulled the mirror toward her. “Oh my,” she said aloud. It was that bad. Clumps of dirt and grass were prominent in her white hair. Her left eye was still half-closed. Her right cheek had a black smudge the length of it. There was a chunk of mustard or margarine at the side of her mouth.
Edward climbed back into the truck, handed her the bowl of water, and asked if it was hot enough.
Elinor dipped her fingers into the water. They tingled with the heat; she left them there for a moment. She dipped the washcloth into the water, then patted it around her face, rubbed at the smudge on her cheek. She pressed the cloth over her eyes and held it there.
“It’s wonderful. Wakes you right up,” she said.
She smiled at Edward and thanked him. She scrubbed a little soap on the cloth and washed her neck and around her mouth. A scent of pine. He must have a good wife, she thought. She handed the bowl to Edward and he tossed the water out the window. She dried herself. Amazing that such a simple activity could lift her spirits so much.
Edward adjusted the rear-view mirror, slipped the truck into gear, and pulled away from the roadside. They picked up speed gradually, nothing like the way Alice drove her truck. Elinor almost gasped. Alice. Her lovely Alice. She, of everyone, would be worried sick. Elinor wished she could get a message to her, tell her she was all right. Louise, poor thing, was probably raging like a mad cow.
The blizzard of the night before had moved on. The sky was a clear, crisp blue; the sun was still low in the eastern sky. The snowplough had been through and there were heaps of snow on the shoulders of the road. As the truck picked up speed and Edward appeared absorbed with the driving, Elinor’s body softened into the warmth of the cab, the thrum of the twelve or sixteen tires rolling over the asphalt. Edward could be her son. She thought of her own sons and wondered if she’d ever see Le Roy again or if he’d managed to kill himself with the drink. So many ruined lives from that stuff. And Charlie — it had been five years or more since they’d been together. She hoped she’d see him before her funeral. After her funeral she’d see Philip again. He’d gone ahead of all of them. Poor boy, only four when he’d died. He’d died alone; must have been so frightening for him. For days she’d wept; the tears poured out of her like a waterfall. The creek had taken him. He’d loved the creek, the ducks, frogs, and fishes that were there. Most years there was barely a trickle of water in the thing. But that spring it had been high and rushing. He must have tripped, banged his head on a rock, swallowed a torrent of water. They found him downstream, tangled up in tree roots. Joseph said he looked peaceful. His pockets were full of stones; there was a fish caught under his shirt. She rocked a little to soothe herself from that remembrance.
A semi approached on the other side of the road. When the two trucks were abreast of each other, Edward honked and waved. Elinor thought she saw Edward’s shoulders drop; he stopped leaning so far forward.
“Things are moving again,” Edward said. He flicked on the radio, said there was a town a half-hour ahead and they’d get some breakfast.
On the radio, reports of blocked roads after the blizzard, school buses not running, schools and shops closed, meetings cancelled. Then stories about the winners of some book award, the times for the next hockey games, and news of a plane crash in Newfoundland. More protests against the war in Vietnam. Then a police report. They were looking for a missing person. Elinor stiffened and glanced at Edward. An elderly Indian woman, long white hair, short, walks with a limp. Might be in need of …
Edward switched to a station that played country music. Elinor pulled her scarf over her head.
“Are you cold?” Edward asked. “I can turn up the heat.”
“No. No. It’s fine.”
Edward hummed along with the music, then smashed the steering wheel. Elinor jumped.
“You know, if I wasn’t driving truck, I’d be out there with those protestors. Not with them. I’d be rounding them up, trying to talk some sense into them. No respect for what those men, soldiers, are trying to do over there.”
She thought about asking him what all the soldiers were doing over there, what was the point of it, but decided to leave it. Animals had always seemed so much more sensible about disagreements than humans.
“There we are, just up ahead,” Edward said. “Best pancakes in Manitoba.”
So, we’re in Manitoba, Elinor thought. Good. Eventually, they’d get out of the range of that radio station. And she’d be out of Louise’s grasp. She didn’t like thinking of her daughter in that way. It wasn’t how it was supposed to be. How did it get so mixed up? She, Elinor, had been so confused when Louise ran away. Louise’s friends weren’t doing that. Why did Louise have to do that? Why didn’t she talk to her mother and father, some of the elders? Everyone would have tried to help. She shook her head, and in her mind’s eye she swatted herself. It wasn’t true. Many on the rez were miserable; they couldn’t help themselves, let alone a young girl. Louise was brave, even if she was stubborn and mean sometimes. Elinor hoped she was just a little bit worried about her mother.
The parking lot was filled with transport trucks. Edward wasn’t the only one who knew about the pancakes. And such a gentleman, she thought, as he came around to her side of the truck and lifted her down. He said breakfast was on him; his grandmother would have wanted it that way. Elinor was surprised by how hungry she was; most of the time she ate little, except when Alice took her for Chinese food.
Edward said if she wanted to freshen up, the bathrooms were clean at this restaurant, not like some places he stopped.
She rarely looked in a mirror. Why was she doing it now? Despite the wash-up she’d had in the truck, there was still dirt in her hair and the buttons on her sweater weren’t done up properly. There was some kind of stain or grease on her skirt. She scrubbed at the spot, but it wasn’t interested in leaving. Grinning at herself in the mirror, she hoped she’d find some fresh clothes before she found Bright Eyes.
There was a chair beside the sinks, probably because its upholstery had been slashed. She’d sit there for a moment to gather her thoughts. The police report of the missing woman had scared her. Poor Louise. She must be furious. And worried. She’d always had difficulty sorting out those two feelings. Anger came to her first. Like that mother Elinor had seen in the city, frantic that her child had wandered off, yet cursing and swatting him hard on the backside when she found him. Why not hug the little fellow? Maybe there wasn’t enough love there and that was why he had wandered off.
She liked the warmth of this bathroom and the smell of hand soap and wet towels. And pee. What did that say about her, that she found sanctuary in the places where humans left their shit? Shit was part of life and animal shit helped things grow in the garden.
She closed her eyes and saw the expanse of webs the spiders created on her porch in the fall. One morning she’d gone out and there were four perfect webs, each with its resident spider in the centre. Four webs for the four directions, four for the four elements. Air. Water. Fire. Earth.
She was enjoying the image of the webs glimmering in the late afternoon sun, remembering how bad she felt for the spiders the times when the wind got up, tearing at their work, leaving strands of web flapping free, spiders clinging desperately, when she sensed she was no longer alone in the room. The smell had changed; it was sweet. She opened her eyes to a girl of seven or eight standing in front of her. A little older than her great-granddaughter, Catherine’s Mariah, the girl wore black boots, and red snow pants with suspenders; her blond hair was arranged in braids. Head cocked to one side, she had an awkward grin. Her top two middle teeth were new. Elinor was about to ask her name when her mother rushed in, glared at Elinor, and took the child to the washroom.
A man’s voice was calling for Mary, asking if she was in there. Elinor didn’t answer. Then she remembered she was Mary. She had forgotten all about Edward. And the pancakes.
After another two hours of driving, they passed Winnipeg; they’d make the Ontar
io border by late afternoon. Edward had been quiet much of the drive, intent, she assumed, on putting on the miles. That was fine with her, since she wanted to keep her heart and mind on Bright Eyes, continuing to send forth the message that she, her mother, was coming for her. She was trying to decide which town to go to, there were so many to choose from. She asked Edward if he had a map of Ontario.
“Where are you going, then?” he asked, handing her a wrinkled map blackened with fingerprints. “I don’t go all the way to the south, you know.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. She didn’t want to sound like an idiot. She opened the map, which wasn’t the help she had hoped it would be since she couldn’t read the small letters. All those lines and colours, she wondered how anyone made sense of the thing. For generations her people had travelled great distances using only their eyes, ears, and noses, following rivers, creek beds, remembering clumps of trees, noticing the location of the sun and stars.
She held a section of the map within inches of her eyes. It was still impossible to read and there was no way she was going to get the thing folded back the way Edward had given it to her.
She stuck her finger on the map and said that was the place she was going. Edward said he’d look when they stopped for lunch. She combed her mind for the name of a town in Ontario. She remembered Toronto. She didn’t want to go there again.
They were slowing down. She didn’t see a town, houses, stores, or cafés. Edward eased the vehicle to the side of the road. He hopped out and disappeared around the back. He passed along her side of the truck, bent over to check something at the front, then climbed back in.
“Heard an odd sound but everything seems all right. Let’s have a look at the map, then,” he said. “Where was it you were going?”
Ottawa. The nation’s capital. She blurted out the name.
“Not going that far east,” Edward said. “I’ll have to leave you somewhere around Huntsville, Parry Sound.”
He folded up the map, grabbed his lunchbox, and sat silently for a moment, his big hands draped over the blue metal box. Then he turned to her. “Maybe you should tell me what you’re really up to, Mary.” He said her name with extra emphasis, then snapped open his lunchbox and handed her a sandwich.
Elinor stared at the sandwich. What did Edward mean, what was she really up to? Hadn’t she been clear? She was trying to find her daughter. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his jaw moving up and down; it was the size of a cow’s. And his hands were as big as a cow’s hoof. And his neck was as thick as that of the deer that hung about in her garden. For the first time, she was afraid.
“Cat got your tongue?” Edward asked.
“I told you, I’m old. I want to find my daughter before I die.”
He bit into an apple, taking half with a single bite.
“I’m happy to help you out, but I don’t like it when people lie to me. Too many people have done that to me. Makes you feel like a fool.”
It crossed her mind that she couldn’t hop out of the truck quickly. She couldn’t do anything fast anymore. Except think — she still did that pretty quickly. And she didn’t like being lied to, either.
“Why are you asking this now?” she said. “I thought we were getting on. I’ve been grateful for your help. I don’t imagine most truckers would want to have an old woman traipsing along with them.”
“You got that one right.” He opened his window and threw the apple core across the road.
He left the window half-open. Soon Elinor was shivering. Did he plan to freeze her into submission? He switched on the radio, leaned back into his seat, and closed his eyes. Elinor did up the buttons on her jacket and finished her sandwich. A thick slice of ham with lettuce and mustard; at least she could tell Louise she had been eating well.
A Greyhound bus passed on their side of the road. A few minutes later, going in the opposite direction, moving slowly, a big red farm truck loaded with bales of hay. Next to the driver sat a black dog. The snow swirled on the highway like smoke rising from a fire. She was confused. She’d get Edward to drop her at the next town where a bus stopped. And she’d go home. Maybe she needed to give up on Bright Eyes.
After what seemed forever to Elinor, but was little more than ten minutes, Edward rolled up the window. Elinor was half-frozen.
“Sorry for the cold,” he said. “I like to have a little fresh air. Stops me from getting dozy.” He put his hand on the stick shift, shoved in the clutch, inched forward a few feet, then stopped the truck. “Okay, Mary. I know that’s not your real name. You don’t, of course, have to tell me the truth, but I’m much less likely to dump you at the side of the road if you’re straight-up with me. I know some truckers have a terrible reputation — a woman in every town, fighting, and drugs — but I’m not one of those. So, let’s have it, Elinor — I’m pretty sure that’s you. Why are the Regina police looking for you? And who asked them to do that? You don’t strike me as a great threat. Nor do you seem like someone who’s lost her marbles and gotten lost.”
He reached over and pulled at her hair, hard.
“Ouch,” Elinor said, pushing at his hand. “What did you do that for?”
“Just checking to see that it’s real, that it’s not some kind of costume, disguise.”
He grabbed her bag, pawed through it, and tossed it back on the floor.
Damned Louise, she thought. Of course she’d go to the police. “How did you find out?”
“The news on the radio got me thinking, but it was the picture on the television that cinched it.”
“When were you watching television?”
“While you were having your little seance in the bathroom this morning. So, what’s up, then?”
“Good sandwich,” she said, brushing crumbs from her skirt. “I don’t know where to start. Do you have children?”
He was watching his side mirror, then pulled back onto the highway. They picked up speed. “Two sons. I hate being away from them, but I make good money driving truck. But this isn’t about me and my life.”
Some of the tension slipped from her body. It was a good sign he had children. She told him that many years ago she’d had a child taken from her. For a long time she thought she would never see her again, but the closer she got to dying, the more she wanted to see her.
“Did she have a name?” Edward asked. He geared down as they started up a hill, a long, gradual incline.
“I don’t know what she’s called now. I named her Bright Eyes. She was beautiful. Hadn’t been out of my body more than a few hours when she was taken.”
The truck, the sound of its engine loud and urgent, crept up the hill. Elinor could feel the backward pull of the load behind them. The landscape was changing; there were more evergreens, rocky protuberances, dark blue lakes. As if they each were holding their breath, awaiting the crest of the hill, their conversation was suspended.
“Who would take a child from its mother?” Edward said as he shifted into a higher gear and the engine quieted. “I’d travel every highway and freeway to track them down.”
Elinor sighed against the tears in her heart. There had been so many tears. Tears on her chest and in her tea. Tears in the kitchen sink and in the outhouse. Tears in the grass.
Suddenly, fear eclipsed her sadness. Had he called the police? Would they be waiting for her at the next town? She fumbled in her bag for her cigarettes.
“So, who called the police?”
She struck the match against the box but it wouldn’t light.After three tries Edward offered her the lighter from the truck.
“My daughter, Louise.”
“Whoa.” Edward hit the brakes. As he did so, he flung his arm in front of Elinor and her cigarette went flying.
“Hang on, hang on. Stay there,” Edward said.
A moose, a male with a full rack of antlers, had charged from the bush, across the culvert, and looked like he would continue across the road. They had come almost to a full stop. Edward said the last t
hing he wanted to hit was a moose; they’d all be dead. The animal paused at the shoulder, then loped across the road and disappeared into the woods.
Edward heaved a big sigh. Elinor rummaged in her skirt and on the floor for her cigarette. They started to move again.
“It’s a good thing, don’t you think, that your daughter wants to find you?” Edward said. “Means she’s worried about you. Maybe you need to call her. Wouldn’t you want her to call you if she’d gone missing?”
She had gone missing, Elinor thought. Louise had gone missing for months. It had been horrible. Even all these years later she remembered how awful it had been, how she’d worried and prayed, neglected her chores, almost took up drinking. Maybe Edward was right. She must call Louise, tell her she was safe but not tell her where she was. Or she could pretend to call her.
Now there was a pain in her chest. She was feeling light-headed, having trouble breathing. She cranked open her window a crack.
“Hot?” Edward asked.
The pain was worse. She couldn’t get her breath; she thought she might throw up, pass out, or both.
She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. No, she didn’t want to die here. Not here.
Elinor blinked at the bright lights. It was almost dark. The truck was stopped. Edward was gone and she was lying across the entire seat. She grabbed the steering wheel and gave it a squeeze, first with one hand and then the other. She heard the low throb of truck engines that had been left running and the louder rumble of others as they started to move.
She sat up although her body longed to remain horizontal.
They were parked at the edge of a big parking lot, more semis than she had ever seen in one place. Had they been mating like gophers? Across the lot she saw gas pumps and a sprawling restaurant with a bright red neon sign: SUZY’S PLACE. People were coming and going. She didn’t see Edward. She’d opened the door and was calculating how to get herself down from the height when he appeared.
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