by Garry Ryan
“Did you try the local police?” Lane’s phone rang.
He flipped it open. “Hello.”
“Can you meet me at Matt’s school?” Arthur asked.
There was panic in his voice.
“Is he okay?” Lane asked.
“He’s been suspended. The principal wants us to come to school. We made an appointment for three o’clock. Said he wants both of us there,” Arthur said.
“But we have no legal rights here,” Lane said.
“Yes we do. Martha signed a form so I could get Matt into school. We’re in the process of becoming Matt’s guardians.”
Lane took a quick breath. He thought about asking, “When were you going to let me in on this?” Instead, he said, “Three o’clock. Where?”
Arthur told him.
“I’ll be there,” Lane said.
Matt’s school was located off Macleod Trail. Its massive concrete walls stood two stories and held more than 2500 students. A car, carrying four teens, peeled out of the parking lot. The driver spotted the unmarked police car, backed his foot off the accelerator, and drove by without making eye contact.
Harper glared as they passed. He dropped Lane off near the front doors. Inside the school, Lane met Arthur in the main foyer. Students passed by. One of the younger ones almost knocked Lane flat with a backpack weighing nearly half the boy’s body weight.
“What’s it about?” Lane asked.
Arthur dodged a young woman with more cleavage than a movie star at an awards ceremony. “He called his English teacher an asshole.”
Lane began to answer, thought better of it, and followed Arthur.
They opened the door of the office. A pair of students sat in chairs to their left. Matt was one of them. Lane noted that the boy’s face reflected a mix of anger and dread. Lane sat down next to him and said, “What happened?”
Matt shook with anger. “The teacher asked us about revenge. I told the class a story. The teacher made fun of me, and I called him an asshole. I hate bein’ treated like that!” He looked at the wall as if resigned to the inevitable lecture.
Arthur sat down on the other side.
Lane put the thumb and forefinger of his right hand against his forehead. Matt twitched his shoulders and ducked.
“Nobody’s going to hit you,” Lane said.
Matt looked back at him as if to say, “We’ll see.”
Arthur nodded at Lane and mouthed, “Go ahead.”
“Start from the top. Tell us everything that happened,” Lane said.
“The teacher asked if anyone had a story to tell about revenge, so I put my hand up. I explained what I did to Phil.” Matt looked from Lane to Arthur.
“Phil’s a cousin,” Arthur said.
“Keep going,” Lane said.
“We went to a family reunion one weekend. It was out in the country. Sunday morning we went to church. Halfway through, Phil needed to go to the bathroom. He’d been buggin’ me all weekend, sayin’ stuff about the way I walk and gettin’ me into trouble, so I took him outside, and showed him where to go.” Matt looked a little unsure if he should continue.
“Go on,” Lane said.
“I told him, ‘If you piss on the fence it’ll turn to steam.’ He did what I said, and started screaming. Then, he pissed all down the front of his pants.”
“I don’t understand,” Lane said.
“The fence was electrified,” Matt said as if every other human on the face of the planet knew that. “Everybody in the church rushed out. Aunt Margaret smacked me a couple of good ones up against the side of the head. Dad gave me a couple more.”
“You were kicked out of class because you told the story?” Arthur was more than a little bewildered.
“No, the kids loved it. They all laughed. It was Mr. Smith,” Matt said.
“Tell us the rest.” Lane tried not to smile. He was only partly successful.
Matt said, “After everyone stopped laughing, Mr. Smith said, ‘Anyone got another rootin’ tootin’ cowpoke revenge story?’”
Lane looked at Arthur in confusion.
Matt said, “It was the way he said it. All sarcastic like. I told you I hate it when people treat me like I’m some kinda freak.”
“Oh.” Lane stopped smiling.
“You’re here to see Mr. Todd?” a woman behind the counter asked. Her red hair sprung out around her head like steel wool.
“That’s us,” Arthur said.
“Come with me.” She led them along a hallway to a conference room. “He’ll be right in.” She closed the door behind her.
“What are you gonna do?” Matt asked.
“I don’t know. Listen to what they have to say, I guess. After that, we all need to sit down and talk when we get home.” Lane looked at Arthur for support.
Arthur said, “That’s right.”
The door opened. A woman stepped in. “I’m Mrs. Stuckart. Something’s come up. The principal asked me to talk with you. I’m Matt’s administrator.”
Lane noted that the woman almost looked them in the eye even though they were sitting. She had a round figure and wore glasses. Lane watched her eyes taking the measure of the three of them. Don’t underestimate her, he thought.
Mrs. Stuckart sat down across from them, “Mr. Lane and Mr. Mereli, you’re in the process of obtaining legal guardianship of Matt?”
“That’s correct.” Arthur didn’t look at Lane.
“We’ve got a letter on file from Matt’s mother. How is she?” Mrs. Stuckart asked.
Matt studied the faces of the adults around the table.
“Fine,” Arthur said.
“You can stop pretending. I know she’s got cancer.
I’m not stupid.” Matt’s voice broke.
Arthur’s mouth dropped open.
Lane studied Matt with growing respect.
Arthur cleared his throat. “She’s at the Tom Baker Cancer Centre.” Sweat rolled down the sides of his face.
“Do you three need time to talk?” Mrs. Stuckart asked.
Lane said, “If we started now, I suspect we’d be busy till midnight. We’d best deal with the suspension first.”
“Matt and I have talked already, and I’ve asked Mr. Smith to join us,” she said.
Lane detected something in her tone when she said “Mr. Smith.” The name appeared to give her indigestion. There was a knock on the door. Mr. Smith came in, and Lane felt the anger rising from Matt like heat on an August highway.
After introductions, Mr. Smith sat at the head of the table. Lane studied the man’s smile, his trendy haircut, the way faux friendliness was not reflected in his eyes.
Lane decided the time for listening had passed. “We’re going to talk with Matt about his choice of words. His reaction was not appropriate, but I’d like to ask Mr. Smith about his teaching style.” Lane looked at Mrs. Stuckart. He noted a brief, almost imperceptible smile cross her lips. Lane looked at Smith. “Would you recommend sarcasm in dealing with young people?”
“Of course not,” Smith said.
“Matt doesn’t react well to sarcasm,” Lane said.
Mr. Smith said, “I’m sorry if I gave Matt the impression I was being sarcastic. It was entirely unintentional.” He smiled.
Lane thought, I don’t believe a word of it.
“Do you believe in family values?” Mr. Smith’s voice was ripe with ridicule.
Arthur pushed his chair back and stood. “This meeting’s over.” Arthur looked at Mrs. Stuckart. “My nephew is not going back into this man’s class.”
Lane and Matt started to follow. Arthur was already out the door.
Matt broke the five-minute silence from the back seat of the Jeep. “What was that family values thing all about?” They were halfway home, and stuck in traffic on Glenmore Trail. On either side of the causeway, the reservoir water reflected sunlight.
Lane saw the sweat breaking out on Arthur’s forehead. Here we go, Lane thought.
“Lane and I are gay. Mr. Smit
h was trying to intimidate us. Family values was a thinly-veiled insult,”
Arthur said.
Lane heard fear of rejection in Arthur’s voice. Memories of former judgments and rejection by the vast majority of the members of Arthur’s family laced each word. Lane knew Arthur’s coming-out had been a nightmare of recriminations.
“Oh, I already know you’re gay.” Matt’s tone made it clear that he was far smarter than both the old men in the front seat. “I just don’t know how Smith knew it.”
“Well, he phrased it like a threat. The tone in his voice was unmistakable,” Lane said.
“That’s why I called him an asshole. That’s the way he talked to me,” Matt said.
“So, Mrs. Stuckart is going to get you out of Smith’s class,” Arthur said.
Matt said, “Guys like Smith don’t go away. They’re like my dad. They always find ways to make you pay.”
“Your dad’s a long way away,” Lane said.
“Half the kids in this school belong to the same church as my dad. He’s closer than you think. That’s how Smith knew about you.”
“So, what do you want us to do?” Arthur asked.
“Take me to see my Mom,” Matt said.
BOBBIE: Good afternoon. It’s Bobbie on the ride home.
I’d like to thank all of my listeners for the kind words, thoughts, and prayers. Today’s program is about grief and living with it. What do I do after the funeral is over and my child’s room is empty?
How can God fill up my life? Brenda, you’re caller number one.
BRENDA: I want to know how you stop hating your
ex! I mean, he killed your baby girl!
BOBBIE: I don’t know. I protected the children as best
I could. Other women in my situation know the laws in this country make it difficult. After my husband left, his behaviour became more and more violent. I blame myself for not seeing this coming. Bobbie took a long, shuddering breath.
Jay and Tony sat beside one another sipping coffee from white cups. They relaxed in front of the university library where the grassy courtyard was being sucked clean by a green four-wheeled vacuum the size of a dumpster.
Jay said, “It would be better if we waited a little longer. Let Rex get a little complacent.” He looked nervously at the machine. The noise meant the volume of their conversation was dangerously loud.
Tony took a thoughtful sip of coffee. He wore black today and drank his coffee the same way. “Did you ever notice that when you fart, a girl will always come up to talk with you? And it seems like the intensity of the odour is directly correlated with the level of attraction or repulsion to the female.”
“You’re starting to sound like a professor. Too may lectures are rotting your brain.” A noxious stench reached Jay. “And that’s not all that’s rotting!”
“Tony?” the young woman asked. Her hair was black, reaching to the base of her spine. She wore a red blouse and white slacks.
Jay felt like singing and hoped for a gust of wind to clear the air. She is stunning, he thought. I never thought I’d feel like this after what my sister did to me.
Tony said, “Rosie, this is Jay. What’s up?”
“Besides the fact that you stink!” Rosie turned up her nose with disgust.
Jay’s heart sank. She wasn’t going to stick around for long.
“It runs in the family,” Tony said.
“Uncle Tran wants the family to get together for dinner on Sunday at The Lucky Elephant and he wants Jay to come too.” Rosie smiled at Jay.
“Okay.” Tony looked at Jay. “You coming?”
If Rosie’s going to be there, Jay thought. “Sure.”
“See you there.” Rosie walked away.
Jay watched the way her body moved and fought the urge to write poetry. “She’s your cousin?”
“Yep. The real thing. Mom’s brother is Rosie’s father.” Tony smiled.
“What’s so funny?” Jay asked.
“You’re red in the face.” Tony began to laugh.
“How come I’m invited?”
“You know Uncle Tran. He’s always on the lookout for orphans. It’s his mission in life,” Tony said.
Friday, October 16
Chapter 9
HARPER ASKED, “ISN’T this a bit paranoid?”
They looked across the river at Bowness Park. Their car was parked at Baker Park on the north side of the Bow River. On this side, the remaining leaves were fading reds, yellows, and oranges.
“It’s quiet here. It’s what Lisa asked for.” Lane wore a blue jacket over his sports coat. He yawned, and it made his jaw pop.
“You look like hell.”
“No sleep.” The nightmares are starting up again, Lane thought.
“Care to elaborate?” Harper leaned against the passenger door.
“After the meeting at the school, we went to see Martha.” In an hour or two I won’t be so tired, Lane thought, I just need caffeine and some fresh air. He opened his window.
“How is she doing?”
“Worse than I thought. I mean, it was the first time I’ve met the woman. She’s got those sunken eyes. You’ve seen cancer patients before?”
“Oh, no,” Harper said.
“Exactly. Matt was pretty shocked. I had to take him outside while Martha and Arthur talked. She wants us to have permanent custody of Matt, if the treatment doesn’t work. According to her, Matt’s dad is abusive. With the new wife and baby, Matt won’t have much of a life with his father,” Lane said.
“How old is Matt?”
“Fifteen,” Lane said.
“You’ve got that deer-in-the-headlights expression.” Harper chuckled.
“It’s not funny.” Lane began to smile all the same.
“Sure it is. There’s nothing like a kid to upset your cozy little home. Your entire civilized little world is about to be turned upside down.”
“You ought to know,” Lane said.
“That’s right, and you know what?”
“What?” Lane asked.
“It’s worth it,” Harper said.
“You don’t understand. The kid began telling me things. Matt’s father told him he was a freak and that it runs in Martha’s family. It was a reference to Arthur and me and about Matt’s disability. You see I’m sure Matt has CP (cerebral palsy). It looks like it’s mild, but you can see it in the way he moves, and the way he concentrates when he walks.”
“It’s messy, isn’t it? You’re going through the adjustment phase. Erinn and I went through it when Glenn moved in. How’s Arthur handling all of this?”
Harper asked with a smile.
“We haven’t talked much. It feels like I’m along for the ride, while he makes the decisions. I don’t even think he’s noticed the kid has CP!” Lane said.
“Look, as soon as Glenn started to live with us Erinn and I had to be on the same page or we were sunk. Sit Arthur down and talk.”
“Martha made Arthur promise that if she dies we’ll take care of Matt. Can you imagine how crazy it could get?” Lane asked.
“Yes, I do. Some people in my family haven’t spoken with me since we took Glenn in. And for once, I know more about something than you do.”
“A lot more than I know about this stuff. Now you’ve got a baby on the way. You’re on your way to becoming an expert.”
“Scary, isn’t it?” Harper asked.
“Very,” Lane said.
“Answer one thing.”
“What?” Lane asked.
“Do you like the kid?”
“Yes.”
Harper said. “Good. You didn’t have to think about the answer. Besides, the kid will be sixteen soon, then he gets to decide where he wants to live. Erinn and I had to learn all those legal details when Glenn moved in.”
An RCMP cruiser pulled up on Harper’s side. He opened his window.
Lisa shifted into park before opening her window.
Lane noticed she was in uniform.
�
�Your place or mine?” Harper asked.
Lisa looked across at Lane. “You look like hell.”
Lane studied her tone of voice. All business. Lisa saved this tone for the worst news. He thought, this day is only going to get worse. “Thanks for noticing. How about we walk?”
They walked the paved trail running alongside the river. A few leaves rattled in the trees. Those on the ground crunched underfoot. The river moved in the opposite direction and chuckled over submerged rocks.
Harper said, “Did you two ever stop to think that maybe you don’t need to keep hiding anymore? I mean you’ve known each other for years. You even have each other over for dinner. Maybe nobody cares.”
Lane and Lisa looked at Harper like he had said something stupid. “Things haven’t changed that much, especially in this province,” Lane said.
“Charles Reddie died of an allergic reaction to penicillin, not from carbon monoxide poisoning,” Lisa said.
“And no fingerprints on the duct tape,” Lane said.
Lisa said, “That’s correct. Also, the child had an unusual mark high up on her left thigh. We’ve got a photograph if you want to look. I showed the photo to some of the guys. One said it looked similar to an indentation he’d seen before. A body was stored in the trunk of a car. The mark may have been caused by what’s used to fasten down spare tires in late-model DaimlerChrysler products. We’re trying to find out if the fibres found on Kaylie’s pants are used to carpet DaimlerChrysler vehicles. We’re almost certain her upper body was wrapped in a garbage bag.”
“So, Kaylie’s body could have been driven to the campsite,” Harper said.
A pair of joggers passed them. The police officers waited before continuing the conversation.
“That would explain why Kaylie’s runners were clean.” Lane recalled Cole’s immaculate white socks.
“One other thing. There was a cigarette butt on the cushion next to Kaylie’s head. It had burned down to the filter, but the cushion didn’t ignite. It had been treated with a fire retardant,” Lisa said.
There was the sound of an outboard motor. Lisa turned right along a chainlink fence and away from the river. Behind them, the fire department’s patrol boat roared up the river.
“Too many inconsistencies,” Lane said.