“We drove.”
Silence.
“We drove in the van,” I say.
“Is Audrey there?”
“Yes, she’s right here. Do you want to talk to her?”
“No. No, that’s okay. I believe you. How did you drive that far? How did you know the way?” The woman sounds flustered, not sure what to ask.
I’m not sure what else to say either. I hand the phone to Rayne and slump down in the closest chair.
“Hello,” Rayne says again.
He listens.
“Yes, well, I drove most of the way—no, I’m just a friend.” His brow wrinkles and his hand clenches tightly. “I only drove them because they asked me to at first. I didn’t know they were running away. I just thought they were two ladies who were heading west on vacation. They invited me to go along because I live in B.C. and was looking for a way home.”
He listens for another moment then turns white and starts to sweat. I take the phone back from him.
“Listen, Rayne is our friend. He helped us. He hasn’t done anything wrong. Do you understand? We only called to let you know we’re fine.”
The woman on the phone pumps me with questions.
“Where exactly are you? Is there a number where we can get in touch with you? What were you thinking? Why haven’t you called before now?”
Rayne reaches out his hand to take up the challenge again. I return the phone to him.
“Hello. Listen, Lillian and Audrey are doing fine. They want to see the Rockies, and we’re almost there. We thought we should call you and their families to let them know, and to see what suggestions they might have for returning them to Ottawa. Do you have their relatives’ phone numbers?”
His pen is poised, waiting.
“Hello—yes—Rayne. I explained it all to the other woman. We were hoping to get the phone numbers of Carol and Tom and someone for Audrey…. No, I don’t know the number here.”
Eventually, Rayne writes down three phone numbers, thanks the woman, and hangs up the phone.
“They wanted me to talk to the supervisor and to give them the number here,” he says. “But they did give me these.” He holds up the notepad.
I am shaking. I try to remember why I agreed to do this. I feel like I’m back in school in Mr. Lacey’s office, explaining that I haven’t done anything wrong.
Rayne nudges me gently. “Do you want to call Carol first or Tom?”
“Maybe Tom first,” I say, hoping for a less dramatic confrontation.
Rayne dials the number. He listens for a male voice and then hands me the receiver.
“Hello?” I say.
“Mom? Where the hell are you?”
I’m glad he formed the question this way. Somehow the brusqueness gives me the courage to go on. “Hello, Tom. How are you and the kids?”
“Where are you?”
“Alberta.”
Just like the lady in the phone call before this, he is suddenly at a loss for words.
“Alberta? What the hell? How did you get there?”
“Look, Honey. I called to tell you I’m fine and that I’ve gone on a lovely vacation with my old friend, Audrey, and a new friend, Rayne.”
“A vacation! Are you kidding? Why would you plan a vacation without telling anyone at Tranquil Meadows or without telling us?”
“I’m forgetful, not stupid. Let’s just say I knew you wouldn’t let me go. My plan did have a few flaws though. But then this young man helped us figure things out, and now we’re in Alberta. You can’t imagine how much fun I’ve had.”
“Really? Who is this guy, this Ryan. What’s his story?”
“Who?”
“Ryan, your new friend who helped you figure things out. Who is he?”
“Oh, Rayne. He’s just a nice young man. Like you.”
“You didn’t give him your bank account number or your credit cards, did you?”
“I might have. I don’t remember, but if I did, the money will still be there. Here, you can talk to him.”
Rayne raises his eyebrows and wipes his hand across his forehead. He starts right in without waiting for Tom to speak.
“I know how this must sound,” he says, “but believe me, I didn’t realize your mom had run away when I agreed to drive her and Audrey to British Columbia. When I found out, a couple of days into the trip, I did a lot of soul-searching but this felt like the right thing to do. Your mom is a great lady and she’s had a great time. It’s all good, Man. I get that you’re angry about not knowing where she was, but now you know. Now we need to figure out how to get her and Audrey back to Ottawa safely.”
Rayne holds the receiver away from his ear and I can hear Tom’s voice, loud and clear.
“Look, Asshole, I’m not as gullible as my mother. What’s your angle? How much is this gonna cost us to get her back safely. Is there a ransom?”
“No, of course not. I don’t want anything. Look, I might not have had the best intentions when this whole thing started, I’ll admit that. But things have changed. I just want them to see the mountains and get safely back home.”
“Put my mother on the phone.”
He hands the phone back to me.
“You can’t just trust people, Mom. Not everyone has your best interest in mind. You’re an easy target.”
“But he only did what we asked,” I say.
“I’m going online right now to check your account.”
I hear him tapping on the keyboard and then his voice. “Hmmm…. Looks like you took out money in Ottawa the first day. What’s this thousand dollars you withdrew two days ago?”
“We needed gas and food and motel rooms. Things aren’t free, you know,” I say.
“You took that out? You knew how to do that?”
“Yeah, you should see. You just put in a number and out spurts the money. It’s a great system. I’ll show you how to do it when I get home.”
“Mom, where are you, exactly? I’m coming out there.”
“No, no, Dear. We haven’t finished our trip yet. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to come home.”
There is a pause.
“Have you talked to Carol yet?” he asks.
“Not yet, I’m going to call her next. I love you, Tom.”
“I love you too. That’s why I need to know where you are.”
“Okay. Good-bye.” I hang up the phone and start to weep. Rayne puts his arms around me.
“That went pretty well, don’t you think?” he says. “What’s wrong?”
I try to pull myself together but can’t stop the tears. Audrey hands me a Kleenex box and rubs my back. I stare at the phone.
“I need to call Carol. Could you please dial?”
Rayne punches in all the numbers and hands the receiver to me.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Dear.”
“Mom? Oh, my God. Mom?”
“Yes. How are you, Carol?”
“I was starting to think I’d never hear your voice again. Where are you?”
“Alberta.”
“Mother, really. This isn’t a joke. I’ve been worried sick. Now where are you?”
“I’m in Alberta with Audrey and our friend, Rayne.” I pause a moment and listen to sniffles and choking sounds. Carol doesn’t reply, so I continue. “We drove here. It’s been thrilling. You would have enjoyed it. I’m safe and happy. We have a dog.”
Carol regains her composure. “Who are you with?”
“Audrey—you remember Audrey from The Home—and Rayne.”
“Rayne? Who’s that?”
I struggle to recall how I’d come to know Rayne. He’s simply always been here. “He drives the van and knows the way. He talks to us and fills the
van with gas and buys food and big yellow flowers, and he saved the dog. He’s very kind. You should talk to him.”
I hand the receiver to Rayne. He looks terrified.
He puts it to his ear and listens, then begins answering. “Ottawa—in front of the bank—no, it was just a coincidence. I wasn’t even thinking about the bank being there—Squamish.” He raises his eyebrows and grins slightly as if to reassure me. “We’ve talked to the nursing home and your brother already. Everyone knows where we—I don’t know, I’m sorry.”
His expression becomes much more serious. “I’m only doing what feels right. I didn’t know at first that they were running away, or that they had Alzheimer’s. We’ve been together since we left Ottawa—of course we get separate rooms, but other than that, they’re always with me.”
I can hear Carol’s voice, though not the words, becoming shrill and loud. Rayne listens patiently until he can squeeze back into the conversation. “I’m sorry you feel that way.
I only did what felt like the best for your mom and Audrey. We’re almost to B.C. so I was hoping we could arrange with you to fly them back from Vancouver to Ottawa—”
The voice comes through clearly enough for everyone to hear as I reach for the phone. “No bloody way. You stay right where you are!”
I put the phone to my ear. “Carol, I just wanted to let you know I’m okay.”
“Of course,” Carol says. “I wish you’d called sooner. It’s been a living hell not knowing what happened to you. Did you think about that? The police called but couldn’t tell us more than that you were alive. I’m a wreck. I haven’t slept or worked since the nursing home called to say you were missing.”
I apologize.
“Where are you?” Carol asks. “Where exactly are you? I’m coming to get you, and when we get back, I’m moving you here to Toronto so I can keep a closer eye on you. Some place more secure so this doesn’t happen again…for your own safety. I didn’t realize how determined you could be.”
My words come out much more calmly than I could have hoped. “I love you, Carol. I’ll call you when we get to Vancouver to let you know what we decide to do.”
“Mom, please be reasonable. I love you. We can talk about where you’ll live when you get back. How can I get in touch with you?”
“I’ll call you. Bye, Dear.”
I hang up.
“That was tough,” Rayne says. “Are you all right?”
“Mm-hmm.” My knees feel like rubber.
I move to the bed. I can’t stop the tears. “That…was…awful,” I whisper between gulps of air.
“I’m sorry. I guess it wasn’t such a good idea,” Rayne says. “I thought they’d understand.”
“Are we going to call my family?” Audrey asks. “Terry’s gone. Maybe my mom or dad?”
Rayne nods. “Your niece, Teresa. They gave me your niece’s number. Are you sure you want to do this?”
They move to the phone. The movement of boughs and leaves and shadows outside the window mesmerizes me.
I can hear Audrey’s voice on the phone, and Rayne’s, but only bits and pieces of what they say. Moments later they’re back, seated beside me on the bed.
“Teresa was really glad to hear from me,” Audrey says. “She’s actually Terry’s niece—his great-niece, I think. She said she was worried about me.”
“She can’t come to meet you,” Rayne says, “but she’s going to call the nursing home and get in touch with Lillian’s daughter to see what arrangements they’re making. It sounds like she’s going to try to have you fly home with Lillian and Carol and Tom, if they’re coming out, and she’ll meet you at the airport in Ottawa.”
“I wish I had a daughter who would come and meet me.”
“I wish I only had a niece who’d just let me be,” I say.
“You don’t mean that,” Audrey says.
“I do.”
17
Rayne leaves and then returns with his guitar.
He starts quietly, humming along to a few songs that I don’t recognize, then, “Can she bake a cherry pie, Billy Boy, Billy Boy? Can she bake a cherry pie, Charming Billy?”
Audrey joins in. “She can bake a cherry pie quick as you can wink your eye, but she’s a young thing and cannot leave her mother.”
Rayne stops playing and smiles.
“Where did you learn that?” Audrey asks.
“My Gran. I can’t believe I remember it. It’s been a long time. Gran used to sing lots of songs while she cooked and
I spent a lot of time eating at her place. I heard them all and I guess I learned them, even though I would have died before admitting it then.”
“Sing some more,” Audrey says.
Rayne plays a few more songs, figuring out the chords as he goes along, singing the familiar words of the chorus. Audrey knows all the lyrics. Rayne plays a few songs he has written himself and then sets down the guitar.
I slouch in the comfortable chair. Shadow pads over to the door and whimpers.
“I’m gonna take Shadow for a walk and then go back to my room,” Rayne says. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Can we keep Shadow with us tonight?” I ask.
“Sure. She wakes up early to go out though. Are you sure you want her?”
“Yes, please. I’ll get up with her if she wants out.”
Rayne nods. “Ok. I’ll bring her back here when we’re done and pick up my guitar.”
Audrey and I lounge in the chairs, comfortable, content, not talking just to fill the space. We’re like sisters who might have lived together in this room for years.
After some time, Audrey says, “He is really good on that fiddle.”
“Guitar.”
“That’s what I said, guitar.”
“We should learn to play. I can sing,” I say.
“You’re a good singer. You even sing harmony sometimes. I’ve heard you when the people come in for sing-a-longs for the old folks.”
I shiver at the thought of sitting in a room filled with old people in wheelchairs and walkers. At the front, someone hammers out Roll Out the Barrel on a piano and someone else tries to lead everyone in song.
“I hate that,” I say.
“What?”
“The sing-a-longs. Sing along with the dead-but-not-
yet-buried.”
“What are you talking about?” Audrey asks. “Who’s dead?”
“Me, when I’m in that place.” I reach over and hold her hand. “I want to move back home. Why don’t you come with me? We’ll look after each other.”
Audrey sits up straighter in her chair. “Where do you live?”
I pick up my backpack from the bed; rummage around until I find my notepad, then leaf through the pages.
“Peoples Bank—Albert Street,” I read. “That must be my bank. I probably live near there. We could find it. We found our way here, didn’t we?”
“Are we near Albert Street?” Audrey asks.
“Someone would know.” I continue to turn pages, reading the entries. “I don’t know what these mean: Mabel’s, campfire, sand and water, yellow curtains.” I choose words randomly from several pages then look over at Audrey. “Has someone been writing in my book?”
Audrey looks surprised. “No. Who would? You’ve had it in your purse.”
I tuck it back into my bag. I move to the window and watch the river flow through the shallow ravine in the trees. The fading light glints off the swirling water, making it look shiny, like crumpled plastic wrap as it winds between the rocks.
“I remember Mabel’s,” Audrey says. “That was a long time ago. That cute little girl waited on us, remember?”
I don’t remember.
Rayne comes back with Shadow. “She’s ready to settle in for t
he night. Are you sure you want her?” he asks.
“Yes. She’s a good girl,” Audrey says.
Rayne grips the neck of his guitar and lays the leash on the table. “Goodnight,” he says as he closes the door.
Shadow prances back and forth between us, restless at first, searching our faces, wagging her tail.
“I think I’ll turn in,” Audrey says. She flops down into bed and falls asleep before I even turn around.
I open the window a sliver and lie in bed, gazing at the ceiling. I can hear the rustling leaves and the trucks speed by on the highway. Albert and I sit high in the cab of a big transport truck, hauling sunflowers, driving through the night so the flowers will be fresh when they arrive at their destination. Albert guides the rig along the road, stopping for coffee to keep him alert. I entertain him with stories and jokes, and together, we sing old songs.
A siren wails—an ambulance. The haunting sound grows louder, then fades as it carries Albert away. His heart stopped with no warning.
Blondie stirs between the beds. I roll over and stretch my arm down to rub her side. “Good girl, Blondie,” I whisper. “Don’t worry, I’m awake with you.”
I hear the clicking of toenails on the floor and feel a wet nose nudge my arm.
“Lie down, girl. It’s all right.”
My back aches with such intensity I can’t settle down comfortably. It feels like my spine is made of old metal springs that are rusted and compressed into a solid mass.
I wish someone would put me on a mechanical stretcher, like they have in horror movies, and crank it tight until the rust disintegrates and the springs in my spine uncoil.
My head is pounding too, just behind the temples. I roll onto my back and circle my fingers hard against them. I can feel the blood pulsing beneath my fingertips on its way to my brain.
Mom suffered from headaches. I remember her lying in her room, the blinds shut tight, with cold cloths pressed against her forehead. We all knew enough to leave her alone when we saw the room in darkness. Even that bastard, Stuart, always found an excuse to be busy somewhere else. I always wanted to help, running a fresh cloth under cold water and wrapping ice cubes inside, trying to keep my brothers quiet. Susan and Sharon didn’t seem to bother. They stayed out of the way when Mom was sick. Where are they now? I haven’t seen my sisters or brothers for years. I guess they are staying out of my way, just like they did with Mom.
Flee, Fly, Flown Page 17