Between the Cracks She Fell

by Lisa de Nikolits

  I paged through the newspaper and there were all kinds of ads for the Canadian National Exhibition, and I couldn’t help but remember all the times Shayne and I had gone. Well, make that twice.

  The Ex. Toronto’s end-of-summer fun fair. Hordes of people flocked through the Prince’s Gates, walking past food trucks like Fidel Gastro’s, Frankie Fettuccine, Beach Boys Burgers, Hogtown Smoke, Gourmet Gringos, and Curbside Sweetness offering trays of cupcakes like rows of pretty flowers on display.

  Then you would get to the real fast-food junk stands full of candy corn, popcorn, candy floss, lemonade, spiral chips, hot waffles with ice cream, and sodas in green, alien-shaped containers.

  Shayne and I would do a quick tour of the animal farm because I loved the goats, llamas, chickens and sheep, and I got to feed them rolled oats and alfalfa cubes and hang out with the kids. Then we would visit the Arts and Crafts Hall and eat as many free soda crackers as we could, loaded with Manitoulin Island dips before they cottoned on to what we were doing and kicked us out. I always bought Mum a brooch or something Canadian, and I got Mr. Alright something with a moose on it. By now, Mr. Alright must have the world’s biggest collection of moose memorabilia, come to think of it. I got him moose droppings, moose T-shirts, moose baseball caps, moose mugs, moose statues, and even a couple of fluffy moose toys. The thought of all the moose stuff made me giggle out loud now. Neither Mr. A. nor I had ever actually seen a moose.

  I returned to my thoughts of the fun fair. Next up were the rides, and Shayne and I would do them all, screaming the whole time. We would stagger from one to the other, standing in long lineups for what seemed like hours in exchange for mere seconds of high adrenalin, and we would be wide-eyed afterwards and giggling. Shayne loved the roller coaster the best, but my favourite was the Mega Drop tower ride.

  We would hit the game stalls where kids with wrap-around mics paced up and down and shouted for us to join them. The first year we went, Shayne won a giant monkey for me, a big fellow with sleepy eyes, rasta dreadlocks, and a red, green, and yellow pro-cannabis cap. Shayne must have spent nearly seventy dollars getting me that guy. At the time, I thought it was ridiculous but also kind of sweet. We called the monkey Doobie, and I recalled sadly that we had both left him in the basement. I wondered what the new house owners thought of Doobie but the officious realtor had probably gotten rid of him.

  We ate deep fried Oreos just for the hell of it, funnel cakes, poutine, even an entire onion bloom, and we felt so sick by the time we left. But we were happy too. What kind of guy could give up what we had?

  I felt depressed. Mid-August already. The CNE going on without Shayne and me. Life moving on. Me without a life. I wondered how Shayne was doing. I counted; it had been about three months since he left me. I wondered what he was doing, and if he was any better, and if he ever thought of me.

  I put the newspaper aside and thought about trying to get a coffee from the vending machine, but I felt too dispirited to move. I felt heavy, sluggish, and tired, and just as I was nodding off in the chair, Ash arrived. He looked so bad that I stopped thinking about my miserable stupid life.

  One broken rib, two cracked, he said. Three stitches in my lip.

  He could hardly talk, and he looked even worse than before. The bruising had intensified and his eye was puffier.

  Let’s go, dear. I’ll drop you off and hey, please let me get you a feast from Swiss Chalet because you must be starving.

  Oh, Ash, you need to get right home, not stop for takeout for me. Please don’t worry.

  I absolutely insist. It’s late and you must be starving. Come on. Let’s go.

  I took his arm gently and he leaned on me. Did they give you lots of nice pain meds? I asked.

  They loaded me up with stacks of prescriptions, but I’m a bit afraid to take them. They look awfully strong.

  Are you sure you’re okay to drive with your eye like that?

  I’ll drive extra slowly and I’ll be fine.

  We crawled along and I tried to keep him entertained by telling him about Emma and Sammy.

  I love dogs, Ash said, out of his broken mouth. I’ve always wanted one. What does he look like?

  I think he’s a Newfoundland. He’s huge. And I think you’d really like Emma too. I think she’s had it really rough. I hope you’ll meet her.

  I chattered on, and Ash insisted on stopping at Swiss Chalet. Although I felt bad for him having to wait, the thought of a real meal was too tempting. I ordered the whole nine yards, salivating as I clutched the fragrant bags to my chest in the small Mini on the way back to the school.

  Where must I drop you? I don’t even know where you’re staying.

  It was hard for Ash to speak and I had difficulty understanding him.

  You can tell me where you stay, he said. I don’t care you know. You’re my friend. You know that.

  I’m living in a room in the old abandoned school, I told him, and you can drop me at that corner. I pointed.

  Wow, he managed to say. You’re braver than me. Are you sure that’s safe?

  Safe as houses, I laughed. Actually, given that I recently lost my house, it’s even safer than a house. No one can take it away from me.

  But then I thought of Lenny and realized maybe that wasn’t so true after all.

  It was dark when we arrived but this time I had my flashlight with me.

  When can I see you again, Ash? I asked. You need to rest. You can’t be gallivanting around the place, in pain like you are. But I want to know how you are doing. Can I call your cell phone or will Rob find out?

  Ashley had pulled over to the side of the road.

  Here, he said, and he handed me his phone. I’ll tell Rob I left it in the hospital, that I put it down after he phoned and forgot about it. I’ll tell him I’ll report it lost and I will phone you from the house as soon as he’s left for work.

  Okay. I was relieved. Will you be okay? He won’t hurt you anymore?

  Ash grimaced. No way. He’ll be the picture of sympathy, apologies, and presents. I might even get diamonds out of this one.

  But what if he calls the phone to see if anyone answers?

  I’ll let it ring three times, then I’ll hang up and phone you again.

  Good thinking. Try to sleep as much as you can, I said, climbing out of the car with my bag of food. It’s the best way to heal. And thank you for my supper. Now please, drive carefully.

  Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, Ashley said, raising an arm in farewell and driving off slowly. I made my familiar way through the long grass, helped by an enormous glowing orange moon that lit the cloudless sky.

  I was opening the front door to the admin building when I heard a strange clacking noise on the big oak tree, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I swung around as fast as I could, brandishing my flashlight and fully expecting to see a snarling Lenny, but my flashlight revealed nothing more than a startled raccoon. I had interrupted him in mid-descent down the tree. Now he stared at me from behind his little Lone Ranger mask, his brown eyes kindly, his long claw-fingered paws digging into the tree.

  I locked myself in my room, had a quick wet-wipes washdown, then got into my pyjamas.

  I laid my dinner out nicely and sat there, enjoying the feast and running through all the events of the day. Lenny and Serena. Em and Sammy. Ash and memories of Shayne. The realization about how much time had already passed.

  I owed Mum another postcard and I promised myself I would take care of that the next day. It was probably time to check my email and start my slow re-emergence into the real world, the prospect of which made me feel nauseated and depressed. I wondered how much longer I’d be able to hide out here. I might need it for longer than I had anticipated, but I also knew that when the cold came, there would be no way I would be able to stay.

  To distract myself, I picked up Imran’s binder to read the next installmen
t while I feasted on my chicken.

  The Ambiya faced the worst of tests and trials. Their lives offer us consolation and comfort that what we go through is small in comparison. Their tests were not “small.” Their tests were great.… Our tests are small in comparison.

  No one has placed you on hot, burning desert sand and demanded that you renounce Islam repeatedly, day in and day out.

  No one is branding your head with a hot iron rod.

  Mandy! Why won’t you accept my offer of love? You are branding my heart with a hot iron rod. I can’t bear it! This pain is worse than the Ayesha humiliation. I give you everything I have, my heart included. Why won’t you love me back? Why?

  Ay, Imran. You have a real penchant for touble, I thought. Not that I should talk.

  30. THE BELIEVERS

  THE NEXT DAY I WENT LOOKING for Emma, and I found her sitting on the sidewalk next to her car with her head between her knees. Sam was licking her arms and whimpering.

  I was afraid to greet her in case, like Ashley, the face she raised to me was battered and bruised.

  Em? I asked hesitantly.

  Emma looked up and groaned. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m dizzy as anything and I feel sick to my stomach. I can hardly move.

  When last did you eat?

  Em looked up. I dunno. Yesterday I guess, when we were down at the beach.

  Em! I was horrified. I thought back to my feast of the night before and felt guilty.

  Wait here, I said, I am going to get you a healthy breakfast.

  Em groaned and hugged her stomach. Couldn’t move if I wanted to, she said.

  I rushed over to the grocery store and bought a package of breakfast cereals, the kind that came in a six-pack of little boxes, and half a litre of milk. Then I went to the coffee shop where I got two extra large coffees and two toasted bagels with peanut butter.

  Could I trouble you for two spoons? I asked the woman behind the counter who grunted something about spoons hardly being necessary for bagels. Coming out of your pocket is it? I asked her politely, and the woman stared back, grudgingly giving me the spoons.

  I nodded and then hurried back to Em, noticing as I left that neither Lenny nor his gang were anywhere to be seen. Somehow their absence unnerved me more than their presence and I wondered what was going on.

  Lenny and the Jets are MIA, I reported back to Em as I sat down and spread out my purchases.

  Em groaned, clearly not interested.

  Okay, I said, Rice Crispies, Corn Flakes, All Bran…. Take your pick. And here’s a bagel with peanut butter.

  I’ll take the Rice Crispies, Em said, looking more cheerful. Mix up the All Bran for Sam here would you? He could do with some fibre. I’m worried about his bowels.

  How are his back legs?

  Not good, Em said through a mouthful of cereal. I am really worried about him.

  Is the vet here in town?

  Em nodded. But seriously, they will want a fortune just to look at him, there’ll be X-rays, and you name it. And if I take him, they won’t give him back to me until I pay. Although, her eyes brightened, maybe we take him, they fix him up, and then we break in and steal him back.

  By now I was used to Em’s flights of criminal fancy and I ignored this suggestion and stroked Sam’s back.

  Poor big guy, I said, kissing his head. We’ll have to figure out a plan.

  Maybe the vet likes homeless girls with their roots showing and a strong case of body odour, Em said, pulling open the box of Corn Flakes. I am willing to do whatever it takes. We must do my hair, don’t forget. That might help me have more value in proposing myself in exchange for Sammy’s treatment.

  Not sure how you’d go about doing that, ever-practical me pointed out, licking peanut butter off my fingers. Hi Doctor Whoever. I can’t pay you but how about me as payment?

  I would find a way for Sammy, Em said. I feel much better, thank you. I think you saved my life. What do you want to do today? Can we do my hair?

  Your hair is fine for another day, I said. I have to do the horrible and access my email at the library. And I need to send Mum another postcard.

  Em gave a hoot of laughter. You’re such a good girl, she said. I wish I was that good. My parents have absolutely no idea where I am, and I could care less.

  You mean you couldn’t care less, I said. Where are your parents, really?

  Em looked away. They’re both dead. They died in a car accident when I was fifteen. I’ve never had anyone to look after me. I was shunted around to foster homes, one after another. I’ve never had anybody really except Sammy here. My foster parents suck. If I was dying in hospital, they wouldn’t come and see me.

  I’m really sorry Em, I said. I thought this explained her sometimes brittle nature and how suspicious she was towards me when we first met. It also explained her over-imaginative schemes of money and escape; her real world had been too tough.

  I wanted to hug her and tell her I was her friend for life but I thought it would sound corny, so I told her what I had figured out for Sammy instead.

  I have an idea how to get Sam to my humble abode. You know those plastic wagons you see parents lugging their kids along inside? You think Sam would sit in one of those and be pulled?

  I don’t see why not, Em said. Why? Do you have one?

  I saw one in the Goodwill. I’ll see how much it is. It was a nice big one too. I’ll go and check out the library, then I’ll go to Goodwill, and I’ll be right back, unless you want to come with me.

  Em gave a huge yawn. No, I am going to get back in the car and sleep. Sammy was so restless last night that I didn’t sleep a wink. Sam and I will wait here. Take your time. The good thing about being homeless is that we never have to hurry.

  I agreed and walked back to the library. I sat down at one of the computers and opened up my email. It had been so long, I had nearly forgotten my password, and I gnawed on my nails while I waited for my messages to load. I was half-hoping there would be no messages at all and that I could continue my life in absentia.

  But no, I was not to be left undisturbed. There were five emails.

  The first message was a few months old, from Mrs. Howlett, the motherly colleague who had been blunt with me. She said she had bumped into Shayne who had told her I had sold the house. She wanted to let me know she was sorry to hear the bad news and that she had told our former boss.

  I was immediately irritated on a thousand levels. How did that woman even know Shayne from a bar of soap? Then I remembered an office Christmas party that I had taken Shayne to, and he had met everyone then. But how did Shayne even know I had sold the house? And why did he have to announce it to the world? The nostalgia I had been feeling for him the previous night vanished in a nanosecond.

  The next message was from my ex-boss who said how sorry he was that the company had gone under. He had heard that I had lost my house, and he wanted me to know he was looking for new opportunities and would keep me in mind.

  I was surprised and touched and immediately wrote back to thank him. I hope you do find something, fingers crossed. Sorry I haven’t replied before now.

  Seemed like everybody was talking about me, and I was annoyed because I didn’t want Shayne feeling sorry for me. And who was he to be talking about me anyway? We weren’t together any more, so he didn’t have the right to talk about me. And, speak of the devil, the next email was a long missive from Shayne.

  JJ, I may have done a bad thing. I went to the house to see you and I saw that you had sold it. I am sorry about that. I didn’t hear from you, so I was worried and I emailed your mother. Seems she thought you were in the countryside somewhere, staying in a cabin with me. I told her you had sold the house. Don’t be angry. I was just worried, that’s all.

  In case you are wondering, I am better. I am in therapy and more than that, I have found my way
to Jesus and am turning over a new leaf. My life is much better since I have turned my life over to Jesus. I don’t smoke marijuana anymore, or drink. Since I have accepted Jesus as my personal saviour, my life is renewed, and I am not the anxious person I was before. Well, I am not as anxious and Jesus is helping me to heal. Jesus can help heal you too, JJ, He really can. Just open your heart to Him and accept His Help.

  I miss you and hope to hear from you.

  Sincerely with love,

  Shayne

  P.S. please let me know how you are.

  A red mist settled over my vision. I was so angry I could hardly see the computer, and I wanted to punch my fist through the screen and scream.

  He leaves me without so much as a backward glance, he gossips about me, then he gets Mum all worried, then he finds Jesus, and now everything is supposed to be hunky dory. How very nice for him.

  I wanted to get up and go and get blotto drunk, drink until I fell off my barstool and couldn’t remember who I was or where I was.

  But the next two emails were from Mum and I had to read them. In the first one she was angry, hurt, confused, upset. It was a litany of concern following the news from Shayne: Why hadn’t I told her that he had left, and how could I not let her know about the house, and where was I anyway?

  I ripped a fingernail off with my teeth and opened the second mail, which was more calm.

  Joss, I wish I could take back the email I just sent you. I was really worried, luv.

  But I know you’re street smart, my girl, and I’ve been thinking, and I know you are fine. I am sorry about the house and I realize you wouldn’t have told me because you knew it would upset me. But don’t worry, dear. Houses come and go, just like the men we’re better off without.

  And that Shayne, all’s fine and well for him to be acting all worried now, but where was he when you needed him? And I asked him that too. What kind of bloke are you to up and leave? He tells me some wanker story (pardon me, luv) about having a nervous breakdown. I said if I was there, he’d be having a nervous breakdown alright. Bloody feeble excuse for a man, he is.