by Lesley Crewe
The first phase of our production is winding down. Now we will head out on locations around the country. We chose Vancouver, since it has such a beautiful backdrop, but now I’m wishing we weren’t going so far. I’ve made arrangements to fly back to Toronto to see Dr. McDermott while we’re on our jaunt. It’s the only way to keep both him and Mr. Gardner happy; my boss wants me on site at all locations. Amanda and I had hoped to share the duties, so she wouldn’t be away from home for long periods of time. She’s no doubt bawling her head tonight before heading to the airport in the morning. I’m surprisingly teary myself. I’ve never been away from home.
Aunt Ollie helps me with my ironing.
“Don’t talk to strangers.”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t go out late at night.”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t hang around street corners smoking a cigarette,” Gramps says. “Someone might mistake you for a hooker.”
“I won’t.”
“Keep your money in your bra,” Aunt Ollie says.
“I don’t carry money. I have plastic.”
“You should always carry money. What if you were kidnapped and had to find a phone booth to call someone?”
There’s no use explaining. “You’re right; I’ll carry money in my bra.”
“Call us and check in from time to time,” Gramps says.
“Okay.”
We spend my last evening eating pepperoni pizza and playing with the pussycats. Bobby spends the entire time on Gramps’s lap. Peanut is trying to climb a curtain, and Rosemary is fascinated by something under a bookcase. Norton is on the windowsill, looking at the neighbour’s dog.
“Are you sure you guys are going to be okay without me?”
“We’ll be fine!” Aunt Ollie sobs into her apron.
I’ve never seen her like this before. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying.”
Gramps wipes his eyeglasses. “Knock it off.”
My amazement knows no bounds. I’ve never seen them like this. They never care what I’m doing or where I’m going, and now they’re upset that I’m leaving. Guilt kicks in.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”
“That’s up to you,” Aunt Ollie sniffs.
“I’ll be back to see the doctor. Make something fattening for me to eat.”
“That she can do.”
“Shut up, you.”
“Make me.”
In the morning, I go next door for a final goodbye when the taxi pulls up to the curb a bit early. One more round of kisses before I leave with my suitcase. While the driver puts my luggage in the trunk, Aunt Ollie and Gramps stand at the window with the kittens, waving their paws goodbye. I wave back until I can’t see them anymore. Who would’ve guessed? They’ll miss me.
Amanda looks miserable when she arrives at the airport. Her distress at leaving her family is evident—she forgot to spray tan before she left home. I hardly recognize her.
“Are you going to be okay?” We punch in our information at a ticket kiosk.
“The boys were crying and hanging off me. It was terrible. I’ve never left them for so long before.”
“I’ve never left Norton and the kittens for this long, either.”
“Are you honestly going to compare leaving a bunch of cats to me leaving my kids?”
“The kittens are my kids.”
“I can’t talk about this right now.”
This is my first time flying, which is pretty pathetic. Brian sits by the window, Amanda in the middle, and me in the aisle seat. Austin is across from me and the girls are scattered around like chicken feed. They’re excited about going and I’m happy for them.
I’m the only one who listens intently to what the flight attendant says. I open the brochure that tells us how to get out in case of emergency and study it. The flight attendant comes over and points to Brian.
“Sir, you’re sitting in the exit seat. Is that something you’re okay with?”
“Sure.”
“In case we need to evacuate, you have to pull the handle up and in so the window is released, and then throw it outside.”
“Okay. No problem.”
She’s about to leave. I hold up my finger. “Sorry, but that sounds terribly easy. What’s the guarantee that the window won’t accidentally open in mid-air?”
“Don’t worry. Everything is secure.” She’s about to leave again.
“What’s the protocol? Do women and children go first?”
“The best thing is to get out and free up the space for others to come behind you.”
“Okay, thank you.”
She leaves in a hurry. Amanda, Austin, and Brian grin at me.
“What? I don’t know what the rules are. They tell you if you have any concerns, to ask them.”
It seems like we wait forever for the plane to start taxiing to the runway. It’s always mystified me how something that weighs tons and tons can get off the ground just by driving quickly down a runway. I look at the heads all around me. The plane is full. I wonder if that’s bad.
I assume we’re cleared for takeoff, because there is a surge of power and we’re moving faster and faster. Surely we’ll lift off soon…but we don’t. We’re going to run out of runway. My heart starts to pound. I get a slight dipping sensation and I know for a fact that the bottom of the plane is about to scrape off on the pavement.
But we’re up, and the ground gets farther and farther away. I’m in a giant tin can hurtling through space, and I can’t get out. My whole life depends on the person in the cockpit who I’ve never met. Maybe that person is having a bad day. Maybe they found out their kids are on drugs or their partner’s cheating on them and they’re not concentrating on anything else.
There’s a horrible grinding noise.
“What’s that?”
“The wheels.”
“Are they falling off?”
Amanda pats my hand. “They’re retracting. You’ll hear that noise again when we land.”
There are binging noises. Does that mean something’s wrong? I don’t want to ask the others, so I sit tight. But then the captain comes on.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be encountering some turbulence over the Great Lakes. It shouldn’t last long. Go back to your seat and make sure your seat belts are fastened.”
My seat belt is digging into my ovaries.
When the bumping starts it’s overwhelming. We’re going to fall out of the sky. Why did I come on this stupid trip? Why did I take this stupid job? Who will look after Norton and the kids if I’m killed and something happens to Aunt Ollie and Gramps? My fingers dig into my armrests as we experience another scary jolt downwards. Austin leans across the aisle and touches my arm.
“It’s okay. This is normal.”
Another dip and I plant my face in Amanda’s left boob. She holds my head like a baby.
“It’s all right.”
And then I remember. I wish for this plane to stay in the air and take us safely to Vancouver. I let Amanda have her boob back.
“Sorry, I’m okay now.”
The rest of the trip is uneventful. Both Brian and Amanda are watching movies, but my speakers don’t work, so I make lists of things I have to do when we get to our hotel.
“Chloe?”
I turn my head and look at Austin. “Yeah?”
He leans across the aisle. “I’m sorry I yelled at you on the boat.”
“You’re forgiven. No one else jumped in the water to save me. Now I know who my friends are.”
“So we’re good?”
“Of course. I’m used to people yelling at me.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
“I’m joking!”
“I’m never sure with you.”
At one point I lean over Amanda and Brian to look out the window. The view of the Rockies is spectacular. The entire landscape is made up of giant mountains of craggy rock reaching for the sky, with snow at the top of the peaks. I take some pictures before Brian tells me to sit down. “Your knee is digging into my thigh.”
“Sorry.”
About a half an hour before we land, the captain comes on to tell us we’ll be passing through a thunderstorm. It doesn’t faze me in the least.
The plane goes up and down and almost sideways. A few people scream. Amanda now has her head in my lap, praying for God to forgive her for leaving her children. I calmly rock back and forth with the plane. The ominous black clouds that surround us make the inside of the plane dark and murky, as if we’re underwater. Brian cracks.
“Jesus…get us outta here!”
And then we fly out of it. The captain comes on. “That was a wild one, folks, but everything’s fine now. We’ll be landing in ten minutes.”
The passengers clap and smile at each other.
“I can’t believe how calm you were,” Amanda says.
“I rely on a higher power.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Vancouver is breathtaking, a city in the middle of a rainforest. I’ve never seen such magnificent trees, bushes, and plants in my life. It’s as if the entire area is sprinkled with fairy-dust fertilizer and the vegetation just continually grows. Houses look like mushrooms underneath the forest floor, with huge canopies of evergreen and cedar draped above. Downtown looks like it’s made of glass, with shining tall towers between the blue water and the incredible mountains.
My mouth is open all the way to the hotel. The driver gives us a bit of a tour first, pointing out the Lions Gate Bridge and Stanley Park. All I want to do is get out and hug a gigantic tree, but it’s raining heavily, so that will have to wait. The hotel is located on the famous Robson Street, the place to be if you want to shop and eat, and despite the rain the street is filled with people, all holding colourful umbrellas and wearing rain boots. The entire scene is enchanting. I wish I were here as a tourist and not someone who has to worry about keeping to our schedule.
Amanda and I share a room together. It’s like having a sleepover, each of us with a double bed to ourselves.
“I have to call Jason. I can’t believe I’m alive to talk to him.”
“I’ll give you some privacy.”
So here I sit on the edge of a tub on the other side of the country, far from home. It feels like another world. I’ve been living with blinders on, content in my own corner. There are places to go and things to see. I need to shake off my dreariness and embrace new adventures. When I call home to tell them I’ve arrived, Aunt Ollie says there’s nothing new and hangs up. I’m glad they’re not missing me.
We gather in the hotel restaurant for supper. It’s the first time I’ve eaten dinner with the girls. It reminds me of a sorority gathering. Most of them order salads, salmon, or grilled chicken.
The waiter looks at me.
“May I have the pasta Alfredo and chocolate cheesecake?”
It’s very good, but I can’t finish my meal and pass it off to Amanda.
With her mouth full of my dessert she says, “Stop it, you’re such a pest.”
It’s now almost nine and my eyes are closing, but the girls are just getting revved up. They order drinks and it looks like a party. It’s true what Amanda said. These girls are my age, and yet I feel a generation older. I must make more of an effort to join the fun…but not tonight.
Amanda says she’ll be along eventually, so I ride the elevator alone up to my floor. When the doors open, Austin is there.
“You’re not going to bed, are you?”
“I’m tired.”
“You should come down for an Irish Coffee with lots of cream on top.”
“It’s bedtime. I know that’s lame.”
“It’s been a long day.”
“You’re a nice guy, Austin. I hope those girls down there don’t break your heart.”
“Good night, Chloe.”
We intended to go to the Capilano Suspension Bridge to do our double date with Austin, but the desk clerk tells us to go to the Lynn Canyon Suspension Bridge instead. It’s not such a tourist trap and it’s free. Works for me.
Austin picks Becky and Tracy to go on this date. He can only choose one of them at the end of the evening, and the other girl has to leave and go back home. Becky has been in the background so far, but her confidence seems to be growing. Once the drama queens pause for breath, the quiet ones have an advantage. They haven’t made as many enemies or stupid blunders.
When we get to the site, there’s a wobbly suspension bridge crossing a deep ravine with waterfalls, bubbling rapids, and rock formations in the middle of an amazing stand of trees. The trails are on the other side, so you have to cross the bridge. The mist rises up to greet you as the water runs below, an echoing sound in this quiet place. You can imagine it as it was hundreds of years ago: ancient, damp, and earthy, the birds calling from high up among the treetops.
The team has to go over the bridge first, so we can capture Austin and the girls traipsing over it. As people make their way across, the bridge moves up and down. It gives me heart palpitations. Trey and Jerry stop in the middle to look down and marvel at the view. They’re insane.
Amanda hollers across the canyon, “Hurry up, Chloe! It’s not as bad as it looks!”
“You guys go first.”
“Are you sure?” Austin asks.
“Positive.”
So Austin, Becky, and Tracy start out over the bridge and cameras roll. Once again it sways from side to side. Becky is more hesitant, so Austin takes her hand and leads her across. I can tell from here that Tracy wishes she’d thought of that.
Amanda isn’t pleased that I’m still standing on the other side of the divide. “Stop being such a chicken!”
There’s no way around it. I wish for this bridge to hold up.
Just because I know the bridge won’t collapse doesn’t mean I enjoy the feeling of swaying on this rope. I can see a couple of hundred feet down through the rope mesh and wooden slats. As I inch my way forward I hear something, so I slowly turn my head. There are two beautifully sleek athletes in Lycra behind me.
“Do you want to pass?”
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
So now I edge closer to the rope, and suddenly realize I didn’t wish not to fall off. But once you start a wish, you can’t change it mid-stream.
“You should wear trainers on this,” the guy says as they breeze by—running, mind you.
Amanda shouts encouragement, and Brian says he’s getting it on tape because it’s priceless.
“Turn that camera off.”
“Come and make me.”
He’s fired. Don’t look down and put one foot in front of the other.
“Chloe, the clock’s ticking!”
“I can’t,” I whisper. If I speak too loudly, I’ll fall off.
This is how it ends. My lifeless body crushed on the rocks below. They’ll send my remains home by plane. I’ll be buried next to my parents and soon forgotten, which means someone will buy my house and see how awful it is. Why am I living in a mausoleum? It’s getting harder and harder to breathe.
Suddenly, I feel someone’s hand slip into mine. Austin is beside me.
“Keep looking at me. I won’t go fast.”
He gets me off that death trap. I’m grateful and relieved. “Thank you. You’re always coming to my rescue. Can I book you to assist me on the way back?”
“I’m not sure. Have you got any more red Smarties?”
In the afternoon, I’m in a cable car going up Grouse Mountain, an incredibly foolish thing to do after you’ve been traumatized by a rope bridge. Yes, the scenery is breathtaking and it’s amazing to s
ee snow on the mountaintops in the middle of summer and the city glittering like a diamond in the azure blue sky. At least, that’s what they tell me. I’m looking at the floor.
We’ve made arrangements for Austin and the girls to have a lunch outside, with the fabulous mountaintop as our backdrop. The people in charge are very excited to see us, because when this is broadcast across the country it will be free advertising for them. They’ve been kind enough to make boxed lunches for the rest of us. Things like this make all the difference on a shoot, because it can be a boring process day after day. People start to rub each other the wrong way. Trey got in a snit because Jerry took the last seat on the cable car and he had to stand.
To make my life easier, Amanda has taken over giving me something to eat every hour on the hour. She’s my dealer, passing me a box of chocolate raisins on the sly, or a granola bar. The trouble is, she’s gained five pounds and I’ve only gained two.
Our trio are well into their lunch and so far it’s as boring as hell. There is absolutely no chemistry between any of them. What a colossal waste of time.
Trey comes over and whispers in my ear. “Watching paint dry is more exhilarating.”
“Tell me about it. I wish something exciting would happen.”
Oh no, I didn’t mean that!
Just then, Tracy pops a grape into her mouth. She gives a strangled kind of cough and jumps up from the grass, her hands around her throat.
I start to run. “Oh my God, she’s choking!” I’m killing someone else.
“Help her! Help her!” Becky shrieks.
Austin leaps to his feet and puts his arms around Tracy and gives her the Heimlich manoeuvre, once, twice, three times. She’s a rag doll before the grape flies out of her mouth.
It lands at my feet.
All of us are in such shock that it’s a moment or two before we notice something is wrong with Tracy. What with the jumping, squeezing, and manoeuvring, her blouse has come completely undone and her bra is around her armpits. I stare at her. She has no breasts. What she has been using for breasts are now on the ground. At first I think that maybe she’s had a double mastectomy, but her chest is unscarred—flawless, even. The trouble is, it belongs on a man.