by Julie Frayn
“Doesn’t matter anymore. Now we’re gone, right?”
Ariel nodded. “Right.” She wiped more tears and looked out the window. “Will we ever see Daddy again?”
Mazie took a sip of her coffee, tried to rein in the choking sob that caught in her throat. “I don’t think so.”
“What about Grandma?”
“Probably not.”
Ariel swallowed hard and sniffed. “Polly?” she whispered.
“I doubt it, bug. I don’t think we can go home again.”
“So, just you and me.”
“Afraid so.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Mazie dropped a ten and three toonies on the table, and they left.
Ariel popped a Bon Jovi CD into the player. The guitar riffs of the first song boomed out of the speakers, and soon Ariel was singing along to “Runaway.” She stopped mid-song and turned to her mother. “Hey, this can be our theme song.”
Mazie turned to look out the window, to shield Ariel from yet more tears. If running away was all she’d done, he’d have found them eventually and killed her. She was more certain of that every day. But at least then she’d be running for her life. Not from it.
They headed north, the thick forest on either side of the highway broken only when the road cut through granite and stone.
Mazie patted Ariel’s leg. “Hey, you want to get haircuts? Maybe I’ll colour mine.”
“Why? Your hair is so pretty.”
“I don’t know. Another change. Something different.”
“Can I get purple?”
Mazie laughed. “If you want to.”
“I do. Short and purple.”
“You want short hair? Really?”
“Yeah. Daddy won’t see it, so he can’t get mad at me. My hair, my choice, right?”
“Agreed. Your hair, your choice.”
“But where would we get that done out here? There’s nothing but trees and rock and old houses.”
“Grab the map.”
Mazie eased the car onto a narrow turnout, climbed out, arched her back and stretched her arms high above her head. Ariel unfolded the map and laid it across the hood of the car. She traced her finger from Ville Marie, past Notre Dame du Nord, and to the next town on the map. “This looks kind of small.” She kept running her finger along until she found one that looked promising. “Maybe there?”
An hour later, they slowed down to sixty kilometres per hour on the outskirts of Englehart.
~~~~~~~~
“I want a pixie cut. And I want it all purple.”
“Purple?” The stylist, Audra, looked aghast. “I don’t think I have any purple.” She turned to Mazie. “Not too many folks around here looking for any punk rock styles, you know?” She picked up a colour sample wheel and handed it to Ariel. “The closest I have is maroon. Maybe we could do some blonde highlights. Or blonde tips and spike it up?”
Ariel’s face lit up. “Yes!”
The salon was nothing more than a couple of barber chairs and mirrors in the living room of a tiny house with one employee — the owner. Audra chopped and clipped at Ariel’s long black locks. They fell from her head and dropped to the floor in thick chunks.
Mazie turned away when tears sprang to her eyes. It wasn’t Ariel’s first haircut, but this was no trim. Since spring, she’d transformed from a little girl playing tag on the front lawn to a young woman. A ‘tween about to become a teen, fully formed and ready for anything.
Audra mixed the colour and painted it onto Ariel’s hair. She set a timer and turned to Mazie. “How about you, love? We can cut while your girl’s colour sets.”
Mazie hadn’t had short hair since elementary school. As a teen she loved it long. As a young woman, it doubled as a security blanket. And a man magnet. And the last man it attracted never let her cut it off.
Audra patted the back of the seat and grabbed a black cape. “Take off your scarf.”
Mazie brought one hand up and fingered the silky protector of secrets. “I can keep it on.”
“Honey, it’ll be ruined. I’ll put a towel around instead.”
Mazie glanced at Ariel.
Ariel was distracted by her reflection in the mirror. She turned her head side to side and inspected her profile, batted her eyes, poked at the plastic bag on her head.
Mazie tugged the knot loose and let the scarf fall from her neck. She balled it up and held it in both hands. Audra secured a towel around her neck without a word, without a flinch or a wince or a glance or a sideways comment, then floated the cape in front of Mazie’s face and attached it with Velcro at the back.
She held her trembling hands in her lap, secreted by the cape that was like a vice around her throat. She swallowed and squirmed.
“You okay, honey?” Audra stood, scissors poised.
A bead of sweat trickled down Mazie’s temple. “It’s too tight.”
“I’m sorry.” Audra ripped the Velcro open, placed two pudgy fingers between the cape and Mazie’s skin and reattached the Velcro. “Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Audra took the first slice.
Mazie’s eyes locked on the scissors, on the glints of light that caught the blade. A chunk of her hair fell in front of her face and landed in her lap. She shut her eyes, listened to the clip of metal on metal. Her shoulders dropped away from her ears and her spine sank into the leather chair. It was the same cathartic release she felt when that knife slid through Cullen’s flesh.
She cast her eyes to Ariel in the other chair, brown goop in her hair, plastic bag over her head, pinned in the front. Ariel spun the chair round and round. It was one of those moments where the young woman faded and the child took centre stage.
Mazie smiled and sighed. She shot a split-second look at herself in the mirror, expecting to see a stranger staring back at her. But it was just her. With slightly shorter hair.
“So where are you all from?”
More nosy people. What did it matter? They’d never run into each other again.
“Toronto.”
Ariel gave her a look, one eyebrow raised. She looked like her father in that moment.
“Well why you come all the way out here for a makeover?”
“We’re taking a road trip. The haircuts were just a whim.”
“Wow, that’s quite the whim. I know women who agonize for months over a little change.” She patted Mazie’s shoulder. “Good for you. Now, how about blonde?”
“I’m sorry?”
Audra rolled her eyes. “Blonde. You know, dye it light.”
Mazie stared at herself. With her blue eyes and pale skin, blonde would be just the thing. “Do it.”
Two hours later, her scarf secured around her neck, Mazie stood beside Ariel in front of the mirror. Ariel looked years older, on the verge of high school. Not like a child who’d just finished grade seven.
Mazie barely recognized herself. She touched her lightened brow, turned her head and watched her hair bounce around her face. She smiled.
Ariel rested her forearm on her mother’s shoulder. “Looks great, Charlie. You were born to be a blonde.”
~~~~~~~~
The nauseating stink of gasoline swirled around Mazie. She waited in line to pay for gas while Ariel poured her a coffee and chose some snacks.
Mazie approached the counter and pointed to the car outside. “Number three.”
Ariel put the coffee on the counter and piled a soda and two bags of chips next to it. “Mom, look. Can we get one?”
Prepaid cell phones. Just like on television. “And one of these phones, please.”
Two hours later, the outskirts of Timmins came into view. For some reason she’d always envisioned it would be a big city, but it was more like a big town. With few exceptions, there was no building taller than three stories.
Ariel crossed her arms. “This is it? Where’s downtown?”
“I think we’re in downtown.”
“Can’t we go to Toronto or something
?”
“Look.” Mazie pointed to a five story building ahead. “At least that hotel looks decent.”
They pulled luggage from the car, dragged it into the front entrance, and asked for a room. Before the door closed behind them, Ariel fell face first onto the bed. Mazie ran to the bathroom, the large coffee pressing on her bladder. She joined Ariel on the bed and pulled out the cell phone. “I’m going to call Grandma.” She dialled her mother’s number.
When the phone connected, there was no greeting, just muffled voices in the background.
“Hello?” Three interminable seconds passed before her mother spoke. The last time her voice sounded that strained was when she’d called Mazie to break the news about her father’s death.
Mazie hung up without a word and tossed the phone on the nightstand. She lay back on the bedspread and imagined her mother, her house swarming with cops. They had probably tapped her phone. Or maybe were tracing her calls.
Ariel flipped onto her back. “No answer?”
Mazie shook her head. “She must be out.”
Lying came easy. She’d been lying to Ariel for years. Protecting her from her father, from the horror of the truths that lived under their roof. Was she protecting Ariel now? Or only herself?
“I’ll call her back later.” Maybe in the middle of the night. Cops had to sleep sometime, right? “In the meantime, let’s order in. Chinese?”
They sat on the bed, the extra pillows from the closet piled up behind them, and ate straight from the take-out containers while noise from the television filled the space. The room smelled of old grease and sticky ginger beef, overpowered by the musky, salty stench of overcooked squid.
Mazie raised her chopsticks to her mouth. The phone vibrated against the nightstand. The chopsticks jumped, noodles flew through the air and landed on her lap. “Damn it!”
“Mom. It’s just the phone.” Ariel looked at her like she’d lost her freaking mind.
Mazie snatched the cell phone from the table and squinted at it. Seven oh five area code. North Bay. But not a number she recognized. It had to be a mistake. No one had this number. Hell, she didn’t even know what the number was.
She pressed talk and listened to dead air. “Hello?”
“Mazie? Oh my god, they were right in my house. They were going to trace that call, made me pick up. It was you, right? Maybe it wasn’t even you.”
“Mom, calm down.”
“They’re trying to use me to catch you. My own child!”
“It was me, Mom.” She covered the phone with one hand and pointed to the door. “I’m just going to talk outside,” she whispered.
“Is grandma okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine.” She stepped out into the hall and clicked the door shut. “Mom?” Her voice ricocheted off the walls in the empty hall.
“I’m here.”
Mazie sighed. “I figured something was up the way you sounded. I was going to call back after midnight.”
“They’ve got my phone all rigged up to listen in on my calls.”
“Where are you calling from?”
“I had a doctor’s appointment. I’m at a pay phone. Damn it, Mazie, they wanted to escort me to the doctor, like I’m some kind of criminal. I told them to shove it.”
Mazie smiled. “Good for you. How did you get this number?”
“I have call display. I’m not too much of an old lady you know.”
“Of course you’re not.” Voices and footfalls in the medical facility echoed through the receiver.
“They took down the number. Tried to find out who owned it, but they couldn’t.”
“No, it’s prepaid. My name isn’t attached. But I don’t know if they can tell where I bought it.” She rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. “Damn it mother, this is not fair to you, having to cover for me. Lie for me.”
“It’s not a lie to tell them I don’t know where you are.”
Tears sprang to Mazie’s eyes.
“Not a lie when I told them all the awful things that bastard did to you over the years.”
Mazie wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“But they knew all about that. Tried to tell me they just wanted to talk to you, but they were just trying to trick a feeble old broad.”
“What did they say?”
“That if you turned yourself in, they’d work something out. Because of the battery or some such thing. But you’d still be arrested. And Ariel would be put in foster care.”
Mazie leaned her head against the wall and swallowed hard. “I can’t let that happen.”
“You just keep going. Keep that little girl with you. She needs you, darling.”
“What about you, Mom?”
Silence was followed by muffled sobs. Her mother cleared her throat. “It’s spread to my liver and my kidneys. They can’t stop it now.”
“Oh, Mother, no.” Mazie’s voice cracked.
“I’ve declined treatment. Chemo would buy me a couple of months at best, but damn it, those would be some shitty-ass months.”
“How long?” All Mazie could muster was a whisper.
“A few weeks. Three months, tops. I’ve already made arrangements at a hospice.”
“I’ll come back. Take care of you.”
“No, you won’t. My life is done. Only thing left for me to do is to protect you. And I’ll be damned if anyone is going to take that away from me. Now you go. Before they use that cell phone against you and find you through those towers or satellites or whatever the hell they do.”
“Okay, Mom. I love you so much. Call me when you’re near a pay phone, okay?”
“Of course I will. I love you and I love Ariel. Now get on with your life. Maybe go to one of those countries where they have some treaty or something and won’t send you back home.”
She ended the call, leaned her back against the wall and slid down until her butt hit the carpet. She laid her head on her knees and sobbed.
The door beside her clicked open. “Mom?”
She looked up at her daughter. Tears filled Ariel’s eyes. “Is it Grandma?”
She nodded. “The cancer has spread. They can’t stop it.”
Ariel joined her on the floor, rested her head on Mazie’s shoulder and wept.
~~~~~~~~
The sun streamed in through a crack in the drapes and laid a slice of light across Mazie’s closed eyelids. She blinked against the intrusion, groaned and rolled on her side to block it, and pulled the covers over her head.
Another day of running. Of not belonging anywhere. Of knowing that within weeks she would be an orphan of sorts. Why did that suddenly matter? She’d hardly ever visited her mother, but those weekly phone calls kept her grounded. Kept her sane while insanity swirled around her. She never should have stopped calling. Maybe she would have chosen a different path. Maybe just left him, without the violence. Without death.
She rolled onto her back and slid the covers away, allowing the full force of morning in. The sliver of sunlight was warm in the cool of the air-conditioned hotel room. It must be after nine. They should be on the move.
The thought pinned her to the bed.
Ariel stirred and rolled, a snort of sleep exploded from her nose. Mazie grinned. Just like her father.
She stood and pinched her thigh. No, not like her father. Nothing like her father.
She set the coffee pot to brew and stared at the stream of caffeine filling the cup. When the aroma hit her, she shut her eyes, blocked Cullen from her mind, shut out any good thoughts of those few years where good was their normal.
Fuck him. He didn’t deserve to be remembered in a good light.
She sat at the window, steam curling in lazy swirls from the mug. She sipped the coffee and wrinkled her nose.
Damn. Why was hotel coffee always crap?
She pulled the dusty drape aside and peered out the window. The city had a small town look about it. A small town feel. Probably a small town mentality.
“What time is it?
” Ariel sat up in bed, her new short ‘do askew and matted from a good night’s sleep.
“I’m not sure. Mid-morning maybe.”
“Shouldn’t we get going?”
Mazie glanced out the window. “How about we stick around here for a while?”
Ariel bounced out of bed and pulled the drapes wide open. She stood, hands on hips, and surveyed the scene. “Kind of small. This is the tallest building. Look, we can see all the rooftops.”
“Does size matter?” Mazie put her coffee down and patted her lap.
Ariel sat on her mother’s knee and put one arm around her shoulder.
Mazie breathed a deep inhale. Sweet coconut sunscreen, a hint of morning breath, and the lingering pungency of fresh hair dye.
“I suppose not.” Ariel scratched her head. “It’s just different.”
“Everything will be different. We have to find our new normal.”
Ariel nodded. “Just wish the new normal included Polly.”
“I know. But you’ll make new friends fast.” As soon as the words left her mouth she wished she could take them back. New friends weren’t Polly. Everything revolved around Polly.
Ariel glared at her, slid off her lap, disappeared into the bathroom, and slammed the door.
Mazie stared out the window. They had to stop, had to put down roots, find some sense of normal. The money would run out soon. She had to find a job. But how? All she had was her own government identification. She’d be arrested in no time. Wouldn’t she? Did Canada have some kind of criminal database that all new hires were checked against? Or maybe they’d get her when she filed her taxes.
She was no criminal, had no criminal mind, no diabolical thought process. She’d need a fake driver’s license, fake social insurance card. How the hell do people get those things?
~~~~~~~~
The car crept along the narrow streets. Businesses dotted the crumbling sidewalks. A bowling alley, a pizzeria, a Laundromat. Did Calgary even have one of those? Mazie poked Ariel’s side.
She flinched and pulled away.
“We should do some laundry. Let’s go back after we eat.”
“Whatever.” Ariel stared out the window. She’d barely spoken since Mazie suggested Polly was replaceable.
They continued down Riverside Drive. “Look, a Wal-Mart!” Mazie pulled into the lot.