by Lulu Pratt
“Then it’ll take longer for everything,” Rob says.
“That’s just not possible, Rob. It’s too long,” Carol says.
“Sorry, Carol. that’s just the way it is,” Rob says.
“There must be another way,” Carol says, pleading.
I can’t believe her mother is fighting my case so strongly for me.
“Well, there might be. Depending on how things are with you. I’ve never met you Kayden, and I don’t know what your means or plans are. But it’s possible to get an E-2 visa in one or two months,” Rob says.
I sit taller in my chair, and ask, “How do I do that?”
“It’s only for people who are business investors. You have to buy or start a business here, with a substantial investment. At least two hundred thousand.”
“And that’s the only way?” I say, slumping in my chair again.
“Afraid so. Those are the only two options,” Rob says.
I wonder if it’s easier to get a Canadian visa for Emily. We could go build a life there.
The Big Money (Emily)
My dad hangs up and puts the phone back in his pocket.
”Dad, you have to let Steel have a dealership,” I say.
“What?” my dad blurts.
“But it’s only fair. You’re giving one to each of my brothers, I should get one too.”
“But it would be in Steel’s name, not yours.”
“It wouldn’t matter, we’d be married. Plus it would solve two problems, the visa and the job,” I say.
“How does it solve the job? You’re going to have the owner being the guy detailing the cars?” my dad says.
“No, Steel can sell,” I say. So can I, but I’ll leave that for another day.
“That’s ridiculous,” my dad says.
Steel clears his throat, and says, “A carny can sell anything to anyone.”
“Fleecing them on a fixed game is a little different from selling cars,” my dad says.
“Are you sure about that?” Steel asks, his eyebrow arched.
“Besides, no one in their right mind is going to buy a car from a salesman with a neck tattoo,” my dad says.
“Don’t you sell any sports cars?” Steel asks.
“Of course. I’ve got a few Chevy dealerships that sell sports cars. What does that matter?”
“Because I bet those customers wish they were rebels. They don’t want to buy a sports car from some nerdy car salesman who smells like cabbage. They want to buy from someone like me, a bad ass with a neck tattoo, so they can imagine they’re one too. They want to be me, so they’ll buy a car from me.”
Suddenly, a belly laugh erupts from my dad, and he tilts his chair back as he laughs.
“That’s a great idea,” I say, squeezing Steel’s hand.
“It’s a pipe dream,” my dad says, wiping the tears from his face.
“Let me prove it. Tomorrow. You put me in your dealership, and if I sell one car, we have a deal,” Steel says.
Through his laughing, my father says, “Tell you what, since there’s no way in hell you’re going to be able to sell a car tomorrow, I’ll take you up on that deal. You sell a car, I’ll give you the quarter of a million to fund your own dealership.”
“You’d better honor that promise when Steel sells a car,” I say. I can’t believe what an asshole my father is being. If we were in the carnival, I’d stick him in the Loosey Goosey.
“If Steel sells a car, I’ll give you a dealership, and a house.”
“Greg, there’s no need to be rude,” my mom says.
“All I’m asking for is a shot, is all,” Steel says, flicking his hand in the air.
“Even if you sell ten cars, you still have to go back to Canada for two months to get the visa,” my dad says.
“That’s fine. We’ll go together, right, Steel?” I say, looking at him.
“You know I want to show you Niagara Falls,” he says, his blue eyes sparkling.
“Perfect. It’s going to be fun,” I say.
There’s no doubt in my mind that Steel will be successful. He can do anything.
“Wait a second, Emily, don’t go getting your hopes up. He has to sell a car first, and there’s not much chance of even my best salesman selling a car on a customer’s first visit to the lot.”
“So then give him more time,” I say.
“You know I can’t do that, I’m not risking having an illegal worker there for more than a day. You’re lucky I’m giving you anything at all.”
If Steel can’t sell a car tomorrow, my baby is going to be born in Canada. There’s no way I can get through this pregnancy and birth without Steel. Besides, I’m not about to live by myself in Woburn, and all the gossip in town would be about how a carny knocked me up and abandoned me. I’m not staying here and listening to that.
*
It’s after eight pm, and I’m lying on the bed in the Motel 6. Steel didn’t want me at the dealership with him, and neither did my father.
I dropped him off at the Woburn Chevy dealership at eight thirty this morning, and haven’t heard from him since. Steel has an idea he’ll sell a shiny, new Corvette, but my dad said he’d give him a dealership if he managed to sell anything, even if it’s the cheapest used car on the lot.
He’s wearing his black jeans, and the black buttoned shirt he bought for our wedding. All the other salesmen always wear suits, or at least suit pants and dress shirts and he thought he should at least try to look like he works there. Though I did noticed he shoved in his Metallica t-shirt in his backpack that he took with him.
My mother and I hung out at the mall for awhile this afternoon. We bought baby books, and looked at baby clothes. It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to think about the fun side of babies, and we had a good time.
We even grabbed an early dinner in the food court before I came back here.
It’s kind of freaky. She’s treating me completely differently now. She hasn’t once tried to tell me what to do, or even implied I don’t know what I’m doing.
My mom has been strangely intrigued by my time in the carnival, and yelped in excitement when I told her about the Ferris wheel wedding. Though I left out The Gravitron.
The change in her is shocking, but Steel was certainly right when he predicted it. I only hope he’s getting along okay under my father’s glare.
My phone hasn’t beeped all day, and I check it again to make sure the sound is on.
I get off the bed, grab a wrapped glass from the shelf, and walk to the bathroom. The tap is stiff, so I fill it from the bathtub faucet.
Taking a sip, I sit on the end of the bed and switch on the tv. There’s nothing on, so I flip through the channels. It’s amazing how long you can flick for, especially when you’re trying not to think about things.
I manage to watch an entire episode of Seinfeld on some high-numbered channel.
It’s now nine o’clock, and I can’t take it any longer. I thought Steel would’ve been home hours ago, he’s been there almost thirteen hours now.
The pit in my stomach is telling me one thing, the thing I’ve been trying to not face, all evening. Steel must not have sold anything, and is refusing to leave until the minute they close.
Are you coming back?
A moment later, my phone rings. It’s Steel.
“Hey,” I say.
“Goldie,” he says. There’s a lot of noise in the background, and it’s difficult to hear him.
“Is everything okay? Are you coming home,” I can’t resist any longer, “Did you sell a car?”
The only sound is of the busy bar.
“Steel?”
“No, I didn’t sell a car.”
The way he said ‘a’ gives me hope, though I might’ve misheard through the noise.
“Did you sell two?”
“I didn’t sell any cars. No one wanted to buy a car from me.”
The pit in my stomach grows bigger. I guess my baby’s going to be Canadian.
/> “Well, you tried,” I say, my voice flat.
“But I sold two pickups!”
“Shut up!” I squeal.
“Yeah, turns out the guys buying pickups like to see themselves as bad asses too. And there are a lot more people buying pickups than sports cars.”
“Holy shit, what did my dad do?”
“He was gone when I sold the first one. But he saw the whole second one, and we’ve been here celebrating at the bar ever since.”
“What the fuck? You didn’t think you should tell me? I’ve been sitting here going out of my mind.”
“Sorry, babe. We’re just trying to figure out the money side with Rob.”
“He’s there too?” Unbelievable. Why am I the last to know?
“He only got here after dinner.”
“You had dinner with my dad?”
“We shared a mountain of suicide wings.”
I give my head a shake to make sure I’m not imagining things. Steel and my dad getting along?
“I can’t believe it, am I hearing you right?”
“Everything’s good. Your dad’s actually a pretty good guy, once you get to know him.”
“What about his precious reputation?”
“He says once his buddies at the Lions Club all meet me, they’ll love me.”
Figures his reputation matters in context to his friends.
“Let me guess, you two bonded over beer.”
“Beer and the smell of success,” Steel says, laughing.
“Does this mean we’re going to Canada for two months?” I’ve never been to Canada before, and it sounds like another fun adventure — now that I know I’m coming back afterwards. Even though I’ll be five months pregnant when we get back.
“It most certainly does.”
A Touch of Evil (Steel)
It’s the end of November, and it’s been a few weeks since I sold the trucks. Carol begged us to stay for Thanksgiving plus Emily had to have some baby scans and things before we left, and Greg and I had to get all the business plan and all this other paperwork shit in order. I don’t know anything about paperwork, I just signed where they told me.
They had to create some whole back story on where I got the money from, and why I don’t have a record of having a job in either Canada or the States over the past ten years.
I don’t know what they came up with. Something about working in some Central American country that doesn’t share tax info with anyone.
Emily’s brothers are great about welcoming me, but I can’t say the same for the townies. They aren’t being vicious, from what I can tell, it’s more that their mouths can’t stop flapping about the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in the town — me.
Now we’re in Niagara Falls. Emily and I drove up, so we’d have a car. It’s only a twelve-hour drive anyway. North Carolina seems to be a day away from everywhere.
We crossed in Buffalo, because I wanted to be able to see the look on her face the first time she saw the Falls.
Now we’re sitting in our one-bedroom hotel suite at the Marriott, the fucking Marriott. Who would’ve thought I’d be staying anywhere so swanky? We even have a whirlpool and a fireplace. Emily’s parents insisted we stay somewhere nice and paid for it. Said this was a gift from them and to think of it as our honeymoon.
We’re on a high floor, and have a big floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the edge of the Falls, and Emily can’t pull herself away from the window. She’s standing with her forehead pressed against it, staring at the plummeting water.
How long is she going to stand like that for?
“I can’t believe how awesome this is,” she says, her breath fogging the window.
“So you keep saying,” I say, flipping through channels. It’s been so long since I’ve seen Canadian TV, I barely remember it.
“I can’t believe you grew up, with this in your town.”
“Yeah, I was more interested in the fun houses on Clifton Hill.”
“Huh?” She doesn’t look away from the window.
“All the touristy shit. Like Ripley’s.”
“I don’t know how you bothered with stuff like that when you had this.”
“This isn’t the most impressive. If the visa takes longer, we’ll be here in January. That’s when it’s most amazing, when there are big chunks of ice and stuff in the river.”
A shiver runs across her shoulders, and she says, “Sounds cold.”
“Fucking cold. Hopefully the visa comes before Christmas so we don’t need to buy parkas and snow boots. But if we do, you’ll really never move away from the window.”
Emily doesn’t respond, instead she resumes her trance. I keep flipping through the channels, stopping only to watch the commercials and news updates so I can hear the accent.
Without moving her head, she says, “We should find your mother while we’re here.”
“No, we most definitely should not,” I say.
“Of course we should, the baby has a right to know her.”
I lose interest in the tv real fast, and turn it off. Silence fills the room, and I let it hang there while I choose my words.
“No,” I say.
“Are you ever going to tell me why not? I know you lived with a foster family, but it doesn’t sound like for very long, from what you’ve told me before. Were there other foster families?”
“Nope,” I say, my voice quieter this time. I want her to drop the subject. Even though I know it’s going to keep coming up.
“Why do you keep hiding stuff from me? You wouldn’t tell me where you were from, that you weren’t even American. You won’t tell me anything about your mother, or your childhood. I need something, because right now, it feels like you’re keeping secrets from me.” Emily’s eyes stay fixed on the water as she speaks, but her words are strong.
“I’m not hiding anything. I just don’t like to think about it. She was an alcoholic and an addict, okay? Is that what you want to hear?” I snap.
Emily flinches, and her eyes close but she still doesn’t move from the window.
She swallows, and with her eyes closed says, “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, just drop it.”
I pick up the remote to turn the TV back on, when she opens her eyes and spins to face me.
“Why don’t you trust me enough to tell me these things?” she asks, her eyes burning into me.
“That’s not true.”
“Of course it is, or you wouldn’t keep hiding things from me.”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“Your past? You’re not hiding that? Because if you weren’t, we wouldn’t be having this discussion right now. Because I’d know what it was.”
The heat and intensity of her eyes weigh down on me. Maybe it was a bad idea to bring her to Niagara Falls, it’s got her thinking too much. In North Carolina, it was out of sight, out of mind. She didn’t have much reason to think about my past.
Unlike now, standing there, wondering what it was like to grow up with the Falls at the end of the street.
“Fine, you want to know so bad. She had a revolving door of abusive men in her life, she finally married the worst one of all. And one day I realized I’d grown, and was bigger than him. So the next time he hit her, I beat the fucking shit out of him.”
“You beat him up,” she states, staring down at me, her eyes narrowed.
“Pulverized him. He was in the hospital forever.”
“Did you get in trouble with the police?”
“Of course. Spent the next three years in juvie.”
“But… you were defending your mother.”
“She testified against me at the trial. Said I was the threat in the house, not her dickhead husband, and that I’d done it before. When I got out, I lived with the foster family because she was still married to him,” Anger seethes in my voice at the memory.
“Were you the threat in the house? Did you do it before?”
“What? No, I never did it
before. I wasn’t the fucking threat in the house. She was. She’d rather marry a guy who beat her up in exchange for a fix. To be honest, I don’t even think they noticed me.”
“You’re sure?”
“They might’ve, I don’t know. It sure didn’t seem like it at the time.”
“No. I mean, you’re sure you weren’t the threat in the house? You’re sure you’ve never done it before then.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
I kind of thought she’d be all sad at my past. That she’d feel all sappy and sorry for me because my mother was the way she was. Not that she’d fucking believe my mother’s horseshit that winded me up in juvie.
“What am I talking about? All the violence, is what. I’ve seen you fly off the handle with my own eyes. And Razor loves telling Steel fighting stories.” Emily’s yelling, and her fists are clenched. “I’m talking about marrying and raising a baby with a man who’s hospitalized someone and he never thought that was important to mention before!”
“You know all that shit is ancient history,” I say, trying to keep my voice down.
“You’re sure there’s nothing else you aren’t telling me? For all I know, you’ve got a dozen more secrets!”
“There ain’t nothing else, I swear it.”
“How do I know if I can believe that? You’ve always said stuff like that.”
“For fuck’s sake, Goldie, I said there’s nothing else,” I say, matching her volume.
“Unbelievable,” she yells.
“What’s unbelievable is that you’re treating me this way now!”
I get up off the couch and stand beside her, looking down on her. My heart hammers against my ribcage, and I don’t know what to do to make her believe me.
Reason to Live (Emily)
“Holy fuck, are you kidding me?” I say, looking up at him.
Is he threatening me now? The way he’s standing there like that, his eyes cold staring down into me. I need out of here, away from him.
I turn, grab my coat and flee out the door. Marching straight to the elevator, I don’t even turn around to see if he’s following me. I don’t want him to.
Alone in the elevator, tears trickle down my cheeks. What do I do?
I keep on walking, out of the hotel and towards the Falls. We’re up a cliff from them, and I have to take an incline railway car down the cliff to get to the top of the Falls.