“I began having my health problems soon after you were born, Danny. Your dad couldn’t manage it. He left us two years later.”
“Our dad isn’t dead.”
“No.”
“Why did you tell us that he was?”
“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t feel up to telling you what happened and I thought you were too young to understand it. You probably still are.”
“What’s to understand?”
She had no answer for that.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
She pushed herself away from the doorframe with one of her thin shoulders and turned to leave them.
“Is that it?”
She stopped but didn’t turn around. “Yes, that’s it.” She made for her bedroom.
“What caused your health problems?” Danny called after her. “Was it because I was born? Did I give them to you?”
The door clicked shut behind her.
“No,” said Dot, who had been busying herself at the counter transferring cookies from a cookie sheet to a plate. “Definitely not.”
“Why does she hate us, Auntie Dot?” Cookie said.
“Oh, sweetheart, she doesn’t hate you.” Dot crouched down and put her arms around Cookie, who stiffened ever so slightly.
“She’s just worried, that’s all. About her health mainly. The doctors have given a name to what she has but that doesn’t really help because they don’t know how to treat it. All they can really do is give her something for the pain and to help her sleep. Life isn’t very much fun for her lately.”
“What name did they give it?” said Cookie.
“Fibrositis,” said Dot. “It’s a puzzling disease, honey, one they don’t seem to know much about.”
“Will she have it forever?” said Danny.
Dot placed the plate of chocolate chip cookies between them instead of answering that question, but tried to fill in some other gaping holes in the story.
Their mother’s condition worsened, and their family doctor hadn’t been able to diagnose it back then. He came to the conclusion that it was all in her head and sent her to a psychiatrist who prescribed drugs that didn’t work.
“A tiredness got its clutches into her and wouldn’t let her be, but it wasn’t the kind of tiredness that helps you fall asleep,” said Dot. “It was very hard on her.”
“What kind of tiredness was it?” said Cookie.
Dot sighed. “Well, it’s hard to describe. It probably doesn’t make good sense to say it was the kind of tiredness that keeps you awake, but that’s the best I can do.”
She covered one of Danny’s hands with her own.
“I lived here for a year,” she said. “You probably don’t remember.”
“No,” they said together.
“What about our dad?” Danny retrieved his hand.
“Well, he was here for two or so years after you were born, honey, but then, like your mum said, he went away.
“He provides for you,” she went on. “That’s where the money in the drawer comes from. He sends it to me, and I put it there. He sends me enough that I can pay all your bills. More than enough.”
“Is he rich?” Cookie said around a mouthful of cookie.
Danny reached for one, seeing that if he didn’t, he’d miss out entirely.
“He seems to be a wealthy man. He was an engineer before he left, so I guess he still is.”
“He drives a train?” Danny perked up at this.
“No, honey, a different kind of engineer. He designs bridges and things like that. He’s very smart. That’s why you and your sister are so clever.”
“What if he dies,” said Cookie, “and the money in the drawer stops coming?”
“Don’t worry about that.” Dot smoothed Cookie’s hair back from her forehead. “You’ll always be provided for.”
Edwin’s newspaper crackled from the front room, and Dot adjusted her posture.
“Anyway, your mother got some better. They put her on a drug that eased her pain for a time. She began caring for you two, doing the things a mother should do. When I thought she was well enough, I went home to the farm.”
“Where is he?” said Danny.
“He travels a lot for his work.” She pushed the plate of cookies towards him.
“But his home. Where’s his home?”
Dot hesitated and then said, “I don’t know, honey.”
That was how it was left; that was all they got. Danny felt as though he didn’t know a heck of a lot more than he did before, except that for sure their dad was alive. He had tried to feel happy about that but couldn’t. His dad wasn’t a magic man. He travelled, but not with a circus. He drew pictures of bridges, maybe shared them with a few people. Not with him.
Danny gave Janine a condensed version of the story, and she wanted to celebrate the fact that his dad was alive, but he couldn’t muster up any celebratory feelings.
33
Late Saturday afternoon, after the first week of school, Danny went down to The Bay and sat on the mezzanine floor to watch the people come and go. He missed Paul. He missed Cookie and all the trouble she carried with her. He even missed himself, the way he used to be. Please let it go back to the way it was, he prayed to the God he left behind at Sunday school.
With no one there to talk to about the sights around him his glum feeling grew. He supposed the Paddlewheel wouldn’t make him feel any better so he left The Bay and looked up and down Portage Avenue. He crossed the street to the Manhattan restaurant. Its sign had always tantalized him with its sparkly cocktail glass with the cherry inside.
When he walked in he needed a moment or two to adjust his eyes to the dimness. There were booths along one side and a long counter that ran practically the whole length of the restaurant. He took a seat at the counter about halfway down and accepted a menu from a weary-looking waitress.
He felt self-conscious. He’d often sat alone at the counter in Wade’s and drunk milkshakes, and he and Paul had been all over the place on their bikes trying out different spots for Cokes, but this was his first time in a downtown restaurant on his own. And this place didn’t have a whole-family kind of name, like Picardy’s or The Chocolate Shop, where kids could easily come and go. This place was for grownups. He was surprised the waitress didn’t kick him out. She seemed more interested in the newspaper on the counter in front of her. She took a pencil from above her ear and scribbled.
The room was thick with cigarette smoke, like the living room at home. He glanced over his shoulder to get a better idea of the place now that his eyes had fully adjusted. One other person sat at the counter — a man in a suit, who he had passed on his way in. Only a few of the booths were occupied.
Danny’s eyes roamed slowly, and a jolt just about knocked him off his stool when they came to rest on a familiar form. In a booth near the back of the restaurant sat Miss Hartley. No, Mrs. Flood — her hair was blonde. It was the sister. Janine was convinced the blonde hair was from a bottle.
“Like Marlon Brando,” Danny had said, and she said nothing in return. They had exhausted that conversation; he wouldn’t touch on it again.
Both of her hands clutched a glass that was identical to the one outside on the neon sign. Then one hand let go and reached across the table. Her manner caused Danny to think she was reaching for a man.
“Are you ready to order, sweetie?”
It was the weary waitress, pencil back on top of her ear.
“May I have a Coke, please?”
“Nothing to eat?” Her voice was raspy, well used, not unpleasant. It reminded Danny of the sound the stockings made when the woman’s legs rubbed together on Sydney I. Robinson day.
“Not just now, thanks,” he said.
She left him the menu and poured him a Coke.
What was happening was something he’d want to report to Janine in detail, so he got up and headed towards the back of the restaurant where there was a sign saying Restrooms. He needed to see who she was reaching for. He looked straight ahead as he passed the booth, but on his way back from the restroom he glanced towards it.
Rock Sand and Mrs. Flood were deep in discussion; it was more than a casual chat. Danny panicked in case Rock saw and recognized him but he didn’t have to worry. His eyes weren’t interested in anything but Mrs. Flood. Both his hands surrounded one of hers, and he had a teasing smile on his face. A dirty smile.
Danny sat down and took a long drink of his Coke. Mrs. Flood didn’t know him so he could have another look now he was out of Rock’s line of vision. There was a mirror behind the counter. He shifted two stools down where he had a better view of her face and their hands.
Rock turned her hand over and placed their palms together. Then he ran a finger down the centre of her palm, slowly, all the way to the end of her middle finger. Danny shivered. Then they weren’t touching at all but Mrs. Flood left her hand where it was, palm up. She wanted more. Rock took her hand again, and it disappeared. Danny pictured it going to Rock’s grubby mouth to receive a filthy kiss. Then she pulled away, and he heard Rock laugh. Maybe he had tried to suck a finger, and she wouldn’t let him — not in public.
This wasn’t a student-teacher relationship, not even a former student-teacher relationship. It was something wrong and sordid. It might be too big to share with Janine. Her concentration had scattered at the first sighting of Mrs. Flood. This new information would smash it to smithereens. Maybe she was psychic — she had somehow known that the sister was someone to hate.
“Nine-letter word: region shared by Argentina and Chile, fifth letter — g.”
Danny was startled into realizing the waitress was looking at him while she spoke. She was doing a crossword puzzle. It was the type of thing Aunt Dot called out from time to time. When he processed what she said, he blurted out, “Patagonia.”
“My God, you’re right,” she said after a moment or two and laughed a whiskey laugh.
He slurped down the rest of his drink and left a quarter on the counter: fifteen cents for the coke and a dime for the waitress. It was the first time in his life he’d left a tip. He was a private detective paying for information. He liked the feeling.
“So long, genius,” the waitress called after him.
Out on the street again, he crossed over and and hopped on a St. Mary’s bus. He smiled all the way down Portage Avenue and across the two bridges into Norwood. At the Spanish Court bungalows he got off, and feeling like a genius detective, wound his way home through the leafy streets.
He pictured the way Rock and Mrs. Flood were and was certain that they had done it with each other. The way the palms of their hands had touched. Rock’s finger down the middle of hers.
There was no denying the pleasure he felt at those two creeps being together. It meant that Rock had eyes for someone other than Janine.
This was tricky. When Janine had said they should forget about Mrs. Flood he had felt so optimistic about getting back on track. He didn’t want to tell her what he had seen.
On the other hand, he wanted her to know so she could forget about that louse, so she could well and truly hate him and allow her love to take another path.
But then there was the problem of her concentration and the possible total derailment of their plan. It needed way more thought.
If he didn’t tell her, she’d know he was holding something back. He knew she would; she was psychic.
When he got home he got out a piece of paper and a pencil to make a list of the pros and cons.
He thought again about the palms of their hands and how they touched. He wondered if it would be possible to place his palm against Janine’s, to somehow fit it in to something they were doing, without her knowing how much he wanted to, without her knowing he was a fool.
34
Danny didn’t get around to his list of pros and cons, but he did wait until the next day to go over to Janine’s. She was sitting on her back stoop with Pearl. They were staring at each other.
He sat down next to her and told her what he had seen.
“You’re jealous of Rock so you’re making stuff up,” she said.
“I knew you’d say that.”
He gave more details in an effort to convince her.
“The divorcée Flood had a cocktail in front of her. It was pink, like the neon one out front.”
“He really touched her hand?”
“Yup. And then he let it go, and then he touched it again, and she pulled it away.”
He didn’t mention their palms, couldn’t mention the finger.
She was silent for a long time, and Danny worried about her thoughts.
Inside his head he heard Rock Sand’s laugh when Mrs. Flood pulled away.
Finally Janine said, “I saw her with him before.”
“What?”
I saw her with him before, outside Fromson’s.”
“What the hell are you talkin’ about? You had seen her before we saw her with Miss Hardass?”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? You acted like you’d never seen her before.”
“No, I didn’t. I acted like I’d never seen her with Hardass before.”
“What’s the diff? You should have told me. How could you not have told me that you saw someone that looked exactly like Miss Hardass but with different-coloured hair?”
“I don’t think I completely got it then,” said Janine. “I mean, they were a ways away from me at Fromson’s, and her fancy shoes and everything. I didn’t think…”
“But then at Dominion. Why didn’t you tell me then? You must have gotten it then. You’re not retarded. Or are you? Christ, I thought we told each other stuff.”
“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, okay? I don’t have to tell you every screaming thought in my head, do I?”
“Wow, you were already jealous. You were jealous of the divorcée Flood then, just like you’re jealous of her now. You didn’t tell me about seein’ her, or about seein’ them together because…”
“Shut up.”
He had said too much. All he could do now was try not to say anything bad about Rock Sand. Maybe they could still not have a fight.
“There was nothing to tell,” she said. “There was no touching or meaningful looks or anything. I thought it was just a grocery store kind of encounter. You know how you talk to strangers in stores sometimes.”
“Not really.”
He felt her slump beside him and knew it was up to him to make her sit up straight again, but he couldn’t think how. He couldn’t think of a word to say that he wasn’t positive that he’d want to take back.
“Okay, c’mon.” Janine stood up.
“Where are we goin’?”
“To confront him. What else?”
“Do I have to be there for it?”
“Yup.”
“What if he lies?”
“I’ll know.”
“You might not.”
“I will.”
“How will you go about askin’ him?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Don’t mention me.”
“I won’t.”
Danny both did and didn’t want to be there. He wanted to see how it went, to see Rock lessen in Janine’s eyes, but he didn’t want to be accused of anything, like ratting him out, and then be beaten up as a result, by those unnaturally muscular arms. Popeye arms.
Or what if he denied it, and Janine believed his lies? What if she wasn’t as great as she thought she was at knowing when people weren’t telling the truth?
They had gotten as far as her front steps where they sat down again. Pearl was flat in
the grass now, staring at a black-capped chickadee perched on a low branch in a cotoneaster. She looked insane in her concentration.
“Have you decided yet what you’re gonna say?” Danny said.
“Not word for word. I’m going to ease into it.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet. Jesus.”
They found Rock in the back lane behind his house. His head was deep inside the engine compartment of his car. A strip of fish-white flesh stood out between the bottom of his T-shirt and his jeans. It looked as if it had never before seen the light of day.
“Hi, Rock,” said Janine.
“Hi, Jan.” He didn’t look up.
Danny thought that was rude and decided not to say hello.
“Did you have Hardass as a teacher when you went to Nelson Mac?” Janine said.
“Who?”
“Miss Hartley. The phys ed teacher.”
He turned his head to the side and looked at her.
“No. Of course not. She was the girls’ teacher.”
He turned back to the black insides of his car.
“Did you know she has a sister?” said Janine. “A twin maybe?”
Danny saw a stiffening of his back and hoped Janine saw it too.
“Her name’s Mrs. Flood,” she went on.
“The divorcée Flood,” Danny said quietly.
“She teaches at Q.E. We thought you might know her.”
Danny elbowed her in the ribs for saying we.
Rock stood upright and wiped his hands on a clean rag that looked as though it had been ironed.
“What is this?” he said. “What are you trying to say?”
“Nothing in particular,” said Janine. “Well, do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Know her.”
“I had her for history. What’s it to you?”
“Nothing. We were just wondering.”
Again with the we.
“Wondering what?”
“Do you still know her?” Janine barrelled forward with her questions.
Rock’s eyes wavered and then went flat.
Blue Vengeance Page 17