Her mind flitted over the associations. What was, or had been, going on then? Mike Carson and Kelly McDowell seemed to be an item, at least now, from her observations tonight. And Mr and Mrs Adkins were both there, seemingly on good terms.
Oh well, one of those sweet mysteries, she thought.
That cough again. Mr Donnelly began standing up. “Young lady,” he began.
Why does he keep on calling me that? Dana wondered.
“You obviously have a lot of support for your plan, and my wife and I wouldn’t want to be seen as a pair of stick-in-the-muds or wet blankets. I’ve made my point earlier; you’ve given your answer. All I ask now is that you and all the people that come to use the place respect other people who live nearby. That said, I can assure you that we won’t object to your plan next Tuesday.”
“That’s wonderful.” Dana felt the adrenaline pumping. Dare we risk asking for a show of hands? she thought.
Someone else was already giving the answer. “I propose,” Mike Carson was on his feet, “that we give Dana a real demonstration of our support by a show of hands. All those in favour of Dana’s project, please raise your hands.”
Dana saw a mass of hands waving, most at full height, others up but perhaps a bit hesitant.
“Thank you,” continued Mike. “Against?”
Silence. Dana scanned the scene. Connie Weston’s hand was stridently waving, and there were Mr and Mrs Benson’s hands, and near them another but she couldn’t see whose it was.
“Thank you.” Mike turned to face Dana. “Dana, I think that should give you all you need to proceed.”
Dana felt a lump in her throat, and tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “Thank you all for coming out this evening; it’s been a really great—”
A burst of applause drowned the remainder of her sentence. The tears welled in her eyes. Emotion was gaining the upper hand. She tried hard to fight it down. She had felt the stress growing these past few weeks as she and Tony had visited all the homes. The difficult ones had really taken a lot out of her, especially when she couldn’t give a firm response or a clear resolution of their concerns.
Tony had now put his arm around her shoulders and was proffering a Kleenex. She took it, dabbed her eyes, and wiped her nose. She sniffed.
“Thanks, Tone.”
“Great job, Dan.”
“Thanks, Tone, but I couldn’t have done it without you.” She gave him a reassuring smile.
Mr Simpson was there. “Well done. That was good, very good. You’re going to have some very good helpers out there. Oh, by the way, that lady who was volunteered by her companion, Kelly McDowell, she is one of my receptionists. I didn’t know she was living out here; it’s a small world. But she will be a good asset, she’s a very nice person; get to know her. Well, I don’t think anything more is needed now before Tuesday next, except … Yes, it would be a good idea, Dana, if you could give me a call on Monday, just to touch base.”
“Sure, Mr Simpson, I have spares Periods Six and Seven, after lunch. That okay?”
“That’s fine. Bye for now.”
“Bye, and thanks again.”
Mr Simpson had gone.
Sounds of buzzing conversations and the folding up of lawn chairs filled the air as Dana and Tony stepped down onto the grass. Dana felt a slight tug at her sleeve. She turned to see Connie Weston.
“I didn’t know your families had lost two boys—I’m sorry for you. But I still think that your idea is wrong. We lost my brother an’ his girl last year because of a drunken driver. I’m going to talk with the chief of police, and meet with our local councillor and the mayor tomorrow—I’ve already made the appointments.”
And she was gone, into the milling crowd.
Dana looked at Tony. “We’d better let Mr Simpson know about that right away. I’ll call him first thing in the morning.”
“Yeah. Er, Dan, I—er, I don’t think I can be with you at the council meeting on Tuesday night. I’ve got to drive Momma to her art class; Pop says he can’t do it that night. Gotta go and finish that essay now.” He gave Dana a peck on the cheek, and left.
“Er, Tone, wait—” Strange, thought Dana. What’s up with him now?
- 17 -
Jane was curled up in her leather high-back chair. This was her relax time, an essential part of her survival routine. The pressures of her work were so great, so demanding, that she had learned years ago to program in a definite time for relaxation each day.
Almost without fail, she was able to find an hour for herself every day. Even Graham respected that. At the moment, he was somewhere down in the basement, doing his own thing. What he was doing didn’t matter. If it was his relax time—fine. If not—if he was studying some new bulletin on training, say—fine.
She read a few more pages and came to the end of the chapter. She gently closed her book, letting it rest on her thigh. Relax time was now over.
The quietness of the room was broken by the sound of the doorbell. Dana, she thought, and heard the sounds of Graham bounding up from the basement to open the front door. The voices connected up with faces as Dana and Graham came into the room.
“Hey, Dana, good to see you. Make yourself comfortable.”
Dana sat in a leather beanbag.
Graham settled into a broad-armed easy chair. “That was a pretty good meeting you had the other night,” said Graham. “You handled it well.”
“Thanks, but I couldn’t have carried it through without people like you two backing me.”
“We’re happy to be involved,” responded Graham.
They sat silent for a few moments.
“So what’s up then, Dana?” Jane asked, knowing that Dana had asked Graham last week if she could come over to discuss something with them—nothing to do with the brewery plan.
“It’s like this. See, I’m going into Grade Twelve now, and I’ve got to be thinking about what I want to do with my life. Like, we’ve got to apply to university—if that’s what we want to do—pretty soon.”
“I see,” said Graham. “Is that what you want to do? Do you have good marks?”
“Uh-huh, I’ve had an eighty-five, eighty-six average the last two years. But I don’t know for sure if university is what I want.”
“Have you thought of anything else?” asked Jane.
“We-ell, kind of. That’s why I wanted to come and talk with you both. See, the more I think about it, the more I want to do something that isn’t, like, selfish. Like, if I just went to work in an office, just earning money so I could eat and live and do things, it doesn’t grab me. I kind of want to do something more exciting, something that can really help people, like you both do.”
“Mmm,” said Jane. “You mean you want to know about police work—and the military?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I can tell you for a start, though, that police work is pretty demanding, and very stressful, all of the time. There’s very little let-up. To be honest, Dana, I came into policing with ideas similar to yours. I wanted to help people. I wanted to be doing something I felt to be constructive. Now, some parts of my job can be considered constructive, but there’s a great deal that isn’t.”
“Yeah, I realize that.”
“Along quite another line, though, for a moment,” Jane continued. “Have you considered teaching? Your mother’s a teacher.”
“Yeah, she is. But I’ve talked to her, and I’ve watched her, too. That doesn’t seem to be a good career to get into now. Mom’s all stressed out, and comes home exhausted most days. And I see the teachers at school. Some of the kids make it hell for them, but the rest of us can’t seem to do anything about it.”
Jane could see Dana’s point. She had become quite friendly with Caroline Munro, and knew a lot about the troubles caused by some students.
“You’re interested in the military, too?” Graham asked.
“Well, yes. I think it might be what I’m looking for. The more I’ve thought a
bout it, the more I like the idea of the discipline that seems to go with the military or policing. I look at kids that go to regular college or university, and a lot of them don’t get decent jobs, they just seem to be hanging around, picking up any kind of work where they can. What’s the point? I want to feel that I’m really contributing. And I don’t want to hang around here all my life, either.”
“I see,” said Graham. “You know what might be a good idea for you? I’ll see if I can arrange a tour of the Base up at Petawawa for you; I have to go up there next weekend. I have good friends who live there, and I’ll talk to one of my wingers, Captain Ellis. I think she’ll enjoy showing you around.”
“Wow, that would be great. I’d love that.”
“Dana …” Jane’s thoughts had gone back over the times she had seen Dana, not many times, really. But on each occasion, there had been something about her that made her stand out in Jane’s memory. “Dana, have you thought about going to university through the military?”
“No, I haven’t seriously, but now you mention it, the thought did cross my mind when Mr Simpson took us down to visit Mr Hennigan in Kingston. We went past that military college, RMC? I did wonder what it would be like to go there.”
“If you’re at all interested in going into the military, I’d suggest you find out all you can about RMC.” Graham stroked his chin. “I’m just trying to think who I know down there now. No, Jeff Albrecht has gone to other things. Mmmm, I think all the people I used to know have gone, now. But the college does sometimes have tours set up for high school students—you might ask your careers people, they should know.”
“Yeah, I’ll talk to my guidance counsellor.”
“You know, Dana,” Jane was taking a different tack, “in spite of my dire warnings earlier, if you do want to have an inside view of what policing is like, we do have a program where students ride along with someone on patrol. We avoid dangerous situations, of course, but you would see something of the range of problems we have to deal with.”
“I’d love to try that, too, if you could, please, Jane. I’m really torn here. I know I’ve got to make a decision sometime in the next few months that will affect my whole life, and, to be honest, I’m a teeny bit scared. It’s a bit like going into a pitch-black room where you’ve no idea what’s ahead of you.”
“Maybe so.” Graham’s voice was reassuring. “But you have a lot going for you already, Dana. You’re looking out ahead for yourself, which is a lot more than many others your age do.”
“What does Tony think of these ideas of yours?” Jane was grinning with a quizzical smile.
“Er, well, I haven’t talked with him about any of them, really. Well, not in any specifics.” Dana shrugged her shoulders. “I guess—he might not like it. Then again, maybe he could choose to do something I didn’t like … I really don’t know. I know he wasn’t keen when I mentioned once that I might join the police force. But it’s my life, my career—not his.”
“Do you like sports?” Jane was off on another tack again.
“Hmm. I like tennis, but I don’t often get the chance to play. There’s no courts near here, and it’s always a pain to travel across town. You know, that’s one thing we could set up in the old brewery; there’s enough space for one court, at least.”
“Good idea.” Graham nodded his head.
“I like cheerleading. I’ve been in the squad about a couple of years now, though I did drop out for a while after the accident. We do quite a bit of aerobics as well in the cheerleading practices; helps to keep us slim, I guess.”
“I’ll get some drinks,” Jane said. She twisted her body to let her feet come to the ground. “We’ve juice, Diet Coke …”
“Diet Coke would be fine, please,” Dana replied.
“Do you want me to get them?” Graham had a note of concern in his voice.
“No thanks, I’m okay.” But as she said it, she wished she had taken up his offer. There was that nauseous feeling again. It had been around for the past week. She couldn’t be, could she?
She was glad to get into the kitchen, to sit down for a few moments. So Graham had noticed, then. She hadn’t said anything to him, because she wasn’t sure herself. What had gone wrong? This wasn’t part of their plan, at least not right now. But if she was, it would have to become part of their plan. It would change a lot of things.
That settles it, she thought, I’ll get checked out tomorrow.
Carefully, she stood up and poured the drinks. She paused, to be sure she was okay, and returned to the others.
Graham was describing army life to Dana. Jane placed the drinks by each of them, and sat back in her chair. She watched as Dana sat enthralled, listening to Graham’s tales. He recounted his days at college, first at Royal Roads in Victoria, which closed the year after he was there, and then at RMC, Kingston. He went back over his early days as a green, newly commissioned officer, and had all three of them in fits of laughter over a couple of gaffes he made.
He went on to tell of his experiences in the Balkans, and later in Afghanistan. Some of those were pretty harrowing experiences. Jane could see that Dana was captivated.
“… So there you are, Dana. That’s a quick run-down on the side of the military I know.”
“Thanks so much, Graham, that was great, it really was. You’ve given me such a lot to think about. I’m really interested in finding out more.”
“Well, as I said, I’ll set something up for Petawawa, and you see what you can find out at school. And you could also go off to the Recruiting Office downtown. They’re pretty helpful, and can give you up-to-date info on what kinds of MOCs are in demand at the moment.”
“Yeah, I will. Gee, it’s time I was going. Thanks again for having me.”
“It’s a pleasure, Dana.” Jane stood up—okay this time, she reassured herself. “I’ll also look into the student patrol program, if you want me to.”
“Please do, Jane. I don’t want to cut off options at this stage. I might get stuck in something I can’t stand if I jump too quickly.”
“Very true.” Graham held the door as Dana stepped out into the night.
“Thanks again. G’night.”
“Night, Dana, talk to you soon.”
Graham closed the door and turned toward Jane, who had sat down again. Jane watched as he crossed the room and crouched in front of her, looking into her eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, furrowing his brow.
“Yes, I’m okay.”
“Is it what I think it is?”
“It might be. I don’t know.”
“If it is, I’m happy.” He leaned forward and kissed her.
She put her arms round him and hugged him tight. “If it is, I’m happy too.”
- 18 -
“Hey, you there.”
Dwayne Hampden straightened up abruptly at the sudden sound of a woman’s voice. He lowered the bag of fertilizer back into the car trunk, and turned around. Standing at the end of his driveway was a woman, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, smoking a cigarette.
“You mean me?” Dwayne was not used to this form of address.
“Yes, you. The guy who started off on the right track at that meeting about that damn youth centre, and then screwed everything up when you changed your mind.”
“I beg your pardon …” began Dwayne, now quite angry at the woman’s accusatory tone.
“Forget begging,” the woman went on. “If it hadn’t been for your speechifying, I’m sure there were enough of us there that didn’t want the damn thing to go ahead that we would have stopped it right then.”
“Lady—I don’t know your name—for goodness sake, calm down. And if you want to have a discussion about that business, fine. But I tell you, I don’t take kindly to being shouted at and accused of whatever.” Dwayne was regaining control. “Now, I’m Dwayne Hampden, and you are?”
“Me? Connie Weston, and I live—”
“In the Mews. Yes, I remember you now, from that incident some weeks ago in t
he street with your little girl.”
“That’s another thing. I know that idiot in the car hit her, but the cop listened to all you others and he got off free. Fricking police—can’t trust them with anything.”
Dwayne shuddered inside. What a woman, he thought. “Mrs Weston …” he began.
“Mizz,” she almost hissed.
“Look, I don’t know what your reasons might be for not wanting that new centre, but anyone is entitled to change his opinion based on new information. My first negative opinion was based on finances—there wasn’t enough money to support the idea, but it soon became clear that the money issue was solved. And the response from the people around here as volunteers to build and run it was amazing.”
“But it’s still an old brewery, stinking of alcohol. Even if it gets cleaned up, it’ll always be a brewery. That girl said something about a display on the history of the place—even worse. Did anyone think about hurting people who’ve lost someone through drink? I don’t get it—that girl lost her own brother, and still she wants to go ahead.”
“I’m sorry you see it that way, Mizz Weston. That girl, Dana’s her name, has a very good idea, a good initiative, and now that the money issues and volunteer issues are settled, I can see the immense value of it. Dana’s brother and the other lad had got into trouble because there was no safe place for them to hang out. This set of old buildings can form the base of an excellent centre, not only for young kids, but for the whole community. Dana intends to use the fact that it was a brewery to try to teach about the dangers of alcohol.”
“I lost my brother an’ his girlfriend because of a drunken driver. Tear the place down.”
“I am truly sorry, Ms Weston, I am. But Dana is right. She wants to turn tragic events and a heritage structure into a means to move onward, positively.”
“You all make me sick—the whole frigging lot of you. Even the mayor wouldn’t buy my arguments—said it was up to the community—he wouldn’t interfere. And the councillor, he’s just a rat—just wants to get re-elected. Even the police chief, even when I told him about my brother, wouldn’t see my point—said he was in favour of any project to benefit youth and reduce delinquency, even when I told him it was an old brewery.”
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