The Compendium

by Christine Hart

  “You’re going to be fine,” said Ilya.

  “We’ll be in Seattle before you know it. And San Francisco is closer than you think,” said Jonah.

  Our turn came next at the border guard’s window. Our line had moved quickly and I hoped to keep my mouth closed. We had all given our passports to Cole so the guard could review them all at once. If Cole did all the talking, we would be fine.

  “Passports please,” said the guard.

  Cole handed the booklets to the guard.

  “Where are you headed?” asked the gruff barrel-chested man seated above us.

  “Seattle.” Cole’s answer was cheerful, but short. Good so far.

  “What is the nature of your trip to Seattle?” said the guard. He examined each passport in turn, looking at our faces one by one rather than holding eye contact with Cole. A fresh surge of anxiety rushed through my veins.

  “We’re visiting a friend. We’re going on a road trip,” said Cole.

  The border guard looked concerned.

  “How long do you intend to travel through the US? What destinations will you be visiting?” said the guard.

  “Um, we’re going to Seattle and then we’re driving down to San Francisco.” The confidence in Cole’s voice wavered.

  “And your occupations?” said the guard.

  “We’re unemployed at the moment. Our employer recently went under,” said Cole.

  “That’s not what I asked you,” said the guard. “What do each of you do for a living? And who was your employer?”

  “I’m, uh, a geologist. We worked for Innoviro Industries. And my friends are, uh–”

  “We’re a rock n’ roll band!” Faith blurted out in a poorly rendered British accent.

  “Okay. Sir, please pull the vehicle ahead and park in one of the stalls in front of our office.” The guard pointed towards empty parking spots and the building next to us. We should have been driving away into the stream of moving traffic! What the hell was Faith thinking?

  A new border guard exited the building to greet us. This guard was tall and big-boned with a blond bob under her border authority ball cap.

  “Women, come with me please,” she said. “Men, remain in the vehicle and a male border guard will be with you momentarily.”

  Obediently, I got out of the car and slung my backpack on my shoulder.

  “Leave your bags. They will be subject to search along with your vehicle. You can take your wallet or anything containing relevant documentation,” she said directly to me.

  “You’ve got to be kidding with this. I was joking.” Faith rolled her eyes.

  The female border guard frowned at her. “Unless this is your first time crossing the Canada-United States border, you should know this is not the time or place to make jokes with officials. This is the longest undefended border in the world–a privilege we’ve achieved by closely monitoring all cross-border traffic.”

  We followed her, wallets in hand, into the small single-story office building. I ventured a glance back at the guys back in the car. They were talking, but all facing forward. Stupid girl! What have you gotten us into?

  “Are you going to deny us entry to the U.S.?” I asked as calmly and politely as I could manage.

  “Entry into the United States is not guaranteed. You need to cooperate fully and submit to a search,” said the guard.

  “You’re searching the car with dogs, right?” said Faith.

  Shut up! Please just shut up! I thought angrily.

  As we followed the guard down a hallway, I suddenly realized why a woman had been sent to retrieve Faith and me separately. Her mention of a male guard for the guys should have tipped me off as to what was coming next. The border guard gestured at a door with an icon of a gloved hand on it.

  We entered the room to find a plain rectangular table and two stacking chairs on either side. The walls were bare. The only other item in the room was a small camera mounted in the far corner.

  “Remove your clothing down to your bras and underwear. Turn out your pockets and empty your shoes,” said the guard.

  My pulse throbbed and white noise squealed in my ears. I could barely breathe, but I followed instructions. I even removed my socks. I looked over at Faith who clearly seethed with rage. I expected the guard to produce a rubber glove and snap it onto her right hand.

  The guard sifted through our clothing and patted both Faith and I around our breasts and backsides. She didn’t ask us to remove anything else and neither of us volunteered.

  “You can get dressed. Come back out front when you’re ready.” The guard abruptly left us staring at our piles of rumpled clothes.

  “What the hell were you thinking with that stupid rock and roll thing!” I hissed at Faith.

  “It was a joke. Everyone in the car knew it. The border guards knew it. They’ve got badges so far up their asses, they can’t handle the tiniest bit of humor,” said Faith.

  “This is the goddamn border, Faith, what did you expect them to do?” I said, raising my voice.

  “Chill out honey. They’re letting us go, aren’t they? We haven’t done anything, so they can’t hold us,” said Faith.

  “I’m glad you’re confident,” I said scathingly, and struggled not to say how stupid I thought she’d been.

  We finished dressing and walked back down the hall to the main door. The guard was gone, so we left the building. The guys were nowhere to be seen, but the contents of Cole’s car from dash to trunk had been unceremoniously emptied onto the ground.

  Faith didn’t say a word. She began repacking the trunk. I followed her lead and picked up the mess around the front of the car. I hoped she blamed herself as much as she blamed the border guards. The guys returned as we finished repacking the car.

  “Ready to go, now, Faith?” Ilya’s direction to be cool at the border made more sense.

  “Yeah, sorry, my bad,” said Faith.

  “Just get back in the car,” said Cole.

  “Let’s go get some food and forget about this,” said Jonah.

  We reached Blaine, Washington within an hour and Cole found a fast food drive-through for lunch. Jonah also wanted some fresh air, so we headed for a city park with a picnic table instead of eating in the stuffy car.

  “I feel like I just gained five pounds,” said Ilya after finishing his burger and fries.

  “I normally only eat this stuff if I’m hung over.” Jonah crumpled his burger wrapper with a look of disdain.

  “Me too.” I looked over at him and smiled.

  “Want to go work it off on the swings?” said Jonah.

  “I’m not sure that’s going to put a dent in it, but why not? It’s better than getting right back in the car,” I said.

  Cole kept eating, working his way through his third burger. Faith had gone to the washroom. Ilya leaned back on one of the picnic table bench seats. I followed Jonah to the swings.

  We sat on the swing set, pumping back and forth with our legs, passing each other in a blur, laughing.

  “I couldn’t tell you the last time I sat on a swing.” I smiled, my nervousness melting away.

  “We should all–” Jonah stopped short and fell backwards out of his swing, crumpling like rag doll. I turned back as my swing carried me forward in time to see Jonah’s limp body hit the gravel with a crunch.

  “JONAH!” I shrieked. I jumped out of my swing and dove down next to his body.

  I heard footsteps and shouts behind me as I slapped Jonah’s cheeks and shook his shoulders.

  “Wake up! Don’t do this, Jonah. Wake up! Wake up,” I chanted like a mantra.

  “He needs water,” said Cole, handing me a bottle.

  I cracked the cap and tipped the liquid into Jonah’s mouth. The water slid in as though po
uring down a drain.

  Jonah roused, grabbed my hand and the bottle together, sucking hard until he emptied the bottle. He was pale as a sheet. The rest of us were sweating in the heat, but Jonah’s skin didn’t release a drop of moisture.

  “Take me to the water. Take me to the ocean,” said Jonah faintly.

  We rushed to the car and headed west, not knowing the city streets, only knowing the general direction of the Pacific. After passing through block after block of small town America, we finally saw a pier ahead.

  “Look for a boat launch,” said Cole urgently.

  Faith pointed out a ramp leading down into the sea next to the pier as we turned onto the main waterfront street. Cole drove right down to the ramp. Ilya and Faith quickly carried Jonah into the water.

  Jonah sat in the water for a moment. Frothy foam surged and swirled around him, full of debris and garbage, but he leaned back and floated, lounging peacefully. After several minutes, Jonah stood, turned, and dove into the dirty water.

  We all stood on the boat ramp watching the surf, waiting for Jonah to resurface. I looked around to see if we had drawn a crowd with our friend’s odd mid-day swim. A few pedestrians walked along the sidewalk behind us. One woman cast a quick glance in our direction. Nobody else cared about a young man plunging into the water fully clothed.

  Jonah swam for a while before eventually coming back to us. He emerged from the water covered in dirt and seaweed, but looking more refreshed than I had seen him in weeks.

  “Let’s grab a flat of water before we get back on the road,” said Jonah.

  “Dude, whatever you need,” said Cole.

  Jonah peeled off his wet shirt revealing his pale muscular chest. He squeezed what water he could out of his shorts and we all got back into the car.

  Chapter 8

  We stopped at the next grocery store and bought two flats of water. The briny smell of sunbaked seaweed permeated Cole’s car as we left town, but none of us said a word.

  We passed outlet malls, resorts, and a casino, separated by woods and grasslands tinted yellow by the summer sun. Muggy heat stifled us. The only relief was the occasional gust of cool air through the car windows.

  As we neared Seattle, the concrete cultivation improved. Software companies, research facilities, and corporate towers replaced brand-name clothing and chain restaurants. The highway poured onto a larger freeway. After many more miles, the great cement channel opened into an urban landscape. The Space Needle stood out in the distance as we drove onto a bridge leading into the heart of the city.

  “I have Josh’s apartment, the name of the diner where he works, and his cell number,” said Ilya as he consulted a piece of paper.

  “We should text him first,” said Jonah.

  “Which of you guys knew him best?” said Faith.

  “Probably me,” said Ilya.

  “Use my phone,” I said, handing my precious digital treasure to my not-so-technically inclined brother. Does mind-reading and the capacity to create illusions negate a need for technology? Or does he not like electronics?

  Ilya took the phone. “If you’d spent the last few years hanging out with homeless people, you’d have an appreciation for what you really need in life.”

  I narrowed my eyes as I glared at him. I never had gadgets or luxuries growing up. Mom and Darryl had less than half of what Ivan gave you. Ilya rolled his eyes and turned his back continuing to concentrate on my phone. I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky to stop myself from thinking anything else.

  “David Wong emailed me already. He wanted to make sure he had my address right. Cole, you were all up on the journalist plan, so I’m giving him your email now. In the meantime, let’s hit the Pike Place Market before we meet up with Josh. I’ve never been,” said Faith.

  “Oooo, that sounds like fun!” I said, and hoped I didn’t sound as sarcastic as I felt.

  “According to the map, we need to be downtown for Josh’s work and apartment, so why not?” Ilya kept texting.

  “We need something fun right now, Irina,” said Jonah.

  Ilya directed Cole to a parking lot down the street from Pike Place. The tiny lot was attended by an old man who wanted fifteen dollars per hour to park, the first hour up front in cash. Jonah paid him and we left the car.

  Pike Street overflowed with pedestrians. A sunny summer day brought hordes of tourists to blend with the already eclectic mix of hippies, students, and business people. Suits and sarongs, bandanas and backpacks all churned in a sea of human traffic.

  We made our way to the entrance under the iconic PUBLIC MARKET CENTER neon sign. The huge clock told us it was nearly three. Josh returned Ilya’s text and asked us to meet him at a nearby diner in a couple hours at five o’clock.

  As we fell in with a stream of people flowing under the sign, I saw the famous fish market. Their workers were busy throwing fish and shouting, decked in rubber overalls as though they had just stepped off a fishing boat.

  “Let’s split up. I want to browse around and I don’t want to hear any crap about boring anybody,” said Faith.

  “We’ve got two hours before we meet Josh. Shall we say, back here at quarter to five?” said Ilya.

  “Sweet!” Faith turned on her heel and veered into the nearest trinket shop.

  “Has everyone got money?” asked Cole. We all nodded and Cole left.

  “There’s a sweet record shop downstairs. I’ll be there if anyone’s looking for me.” Ilya followed Cole.

  Jonah and I were left to watch the fishmongers on our own. Neither of us said a word or moved to leave. My pulse quickened as our silence stretched on. Jonah gently took my hand. I squeezed it and released my grip.

  “The incident at the park makes me more certain we can’t be together,” I said softly, barely audible over the chatter around us.

  Jonah leaned down and whispered in my ear. “I don’t care anymore. If I’m going to die anyway, I’d rather be with you before it happens. What’s an extra few days or months in the scope of someone’s life?” His lips almost brushed my skin. The feel of his breath against me sent a tingle through my body. Anger replaced the attraction a heartbeat later.

  “Don’t talk like that.” I threw Jonah’s hand back at him and started toward the stairwell.

  “We need to talk about it, so why not now?” Jonah caught up with me.

  “Let’s enjoy the Market. We’ll talk later, I promise.” Good luck getting me alone after today, I thought, vowing not to give Jonah the chance to corner me again. To change the subject, I said, “I think Faith and Ilya are getting back together.”

  “Really? Good, I’m glad she’s moving on.”

  I exited the stairwell on the next floor down with Jonah next to me. I started browsing a table of leather goods set up in a room off the main hallway. “I walked in on them the other day. It surprised me too. Ilya said he still loved her, but that he refused to make a move until he was sure she’d gotten over you.”

  “Faith probably started it then. She doesn’t keep secrets or wait around when she wants something.”

  We moved on to a table of organic lavender and honey products. I turned away and headed back to the main hallway. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I wish we had both been honest about how we feel before now. We could have been together for longer.”

  “I hate to keep saying this, but we’re not together. Not until you’re cured–or stable at a bare minimum,” I said as we passed a window of glass sun-catchers.

  “Can you let me worry about my health?”

  “Let’s agree to disagree for now.” I walked into a small shop of handmade wool accessories. I lifted a price tag on an unseasonably full yarn infinity scarf. “One hundred and ten dollars?” I blurted loud
ly. The proprietor sitting on a stool next to the cash register glowered at me.

  “This is Pike Place Market,” said Jonah. “If we ever go back to Vancouver, I’ll take you to Granville Island. It’s the same idea, an artists’ market with super cool handmade stuff we really can’t afford.”

  I followed Jonah back out into the hall. “I’ve been to Granville Island. Let’s stick to window-shopping from now on. It’s less tempting. You know, if we all still worked for Innoviro, this stuff wouldn’t be so impractical. It’d be a splurge. Why did I have to go digging and ruin everything?”

  “Because you thought Ivan was doing something wrong. And he was. We didn’t want to listen at first, but for my part, I think I’d known for a long time. I wanted my cure and I didn’t want to get off the gravy train any more than anyone else. It took someone new–who hadn’t been sucked into the lifestyle yet–to question everything.”

  We emerged on another sub level with a vaulted ceiling above two floors of open space. Inner windows from all the shops around us on the floor above displayed plants, clothes, books, posters and more trinkets.

  “Oh, I’d been sucked into the lifestyle. Only I was naïve enough to think that asking a few questions might solve a problem. I didn’t think I’d bring the whole place to a halt.” I craned my neck, looking around at each glass-enclosed shop.

  “It needed to end. You should never question doing the right thing. We can’t put the genie back in the bottle anyway.”

  “Good point. Hey, speaking of genies.” I caught sight of a turban-topped antique mannequin in a glass and wood case with the word ‘Swami’ artfully painted on the front. The figure stood guard next to the entrance to a magic shop.