Road Warrior, page 4
I remember the quote by one predator that I read on the back of the newspaper my first day back. It does nothing to ease my mind. It went something like this:
It’s the perfect time—between the arsenic hour and bedtime—when a kid has had enough of the home stress and takes off. If the kid is into talking, you’ll find out he’s running in reaction to a lack of adult interest, or because the adults in the house are screwed up and fighting, or, sometimes, it’s simple rebellion. You have to watch out for the rebellion…. Someone might come looking. But, as often as not, you can find a lost kid, someone who needs a helping hand. You just have to remember to keep it random and to remain nondescript. That way you’re covered if something goes wrong and questions are asked later. It’s important to just be a friend until you’re sure you have someone who truly needs your special help....
CHAPTER 6: WEDNESDAY
“WATCH IT!” I YELLED as a car driver almost swerved into me while executing a quick pass around a stalled truck. The yell, my air horn, and a swift boot to the car earned me a raised fist as the driver screeched ahead. The whole day had been like that, and my adrenalin levels were high enough to keep me alert, alive, and a little feisty.
At lunch, I risked missing a pickup across town because I wanted to check out what was on offer at Overdrive. I needed that special coffee but, if I were being honest, I was probably still hoping to be able to ogle Dave and/or his bike and see if I could pump him about the pictures in an oh-so-subtle kind of way. Mario winked at my extra visit but said nothing as I bolted down a couple of his delicious mushroom bourekas (kind of like a mushroom, potato croissant) and gulped a double cappuccino in a distinctly unladylike manner.
Flirting with indigestion, I whipped out of there and pedaled like fury to an office in Don Mills. Actually, I took the Don Valley trail for most of the way so, without the distraction of car traffic, I was able to plan a little even though I was in a hurry. Now that I had settled into a routine, it was time to start connecting again. I would have to see my mother at some point, and I had to connect with Juaneva and Anita—partly to get back into investigating and partly to check in with Anita. She was a good friend who I had helped in the past. Now that she seemed to be have her life together, she was extremely patient with my failings—mostly in the settling down and commitment areas. I was lucky to have friends at all, since I was sometimes way too hyper and hasty in my responses.
But first I had to find out what was going on with Maria. Still unsure whether it was simply stress or if it was something more serous, I was looking forward to finishing the day and having a good chat with her. Maybe I could cajole her into closing a little early so we could visit in my “office” downstairs for a bit before she had to go home. With that thought, I pedaled a little harder in the hope of finishing my jobs quicker. Once out of the valley, there was no more time for thinking. With homicidal drivers all around, my life was at stake.
The Market was bustling when I returned home. It was just after five o’clock and people were scrambling into the shops for last minute purchases before they closed. I slowed respectfully as I picked my way around pedestrians intent on getting done and home. The air was nippy, and it felt like we were going to see snow on the ground soon.
As I wheeled my bike through the back door, I could see that Maria was still inundated with customers. Having helped out in the store a few times in my youth, I knew what to do without getting too much in the way. I dropped my gear and washed my hands. This was no small sacrifice as I remembered from the past that the scales and the smell of fish were going to stay with me for quite some time. While I can happily inhale bike grease all day, working with fish guts is not my cup of tea. Ah well, what are friends for?
I tied on an apron and Maria gave me a grateful glance as she handed me some paper-wrapped fish. “Here, Abby, you can ring this one up while I start with Mrs. Raimundo.” She turned to the next customer in line and began a speedy conversation in Portuguese. My command of the language has diminished with minimal use, so I hoped that the people I was going to deal with were patient, English-speaking, or at least semi-bilingual like me. It worked out fine. Maria took the regulars and I took the leftovers and, fortuitously, we sold out by five-forty-five.
“Phew,” said Maria after she closed the door behind the last customer. “What a day. I’m not sure what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up just then. Thank you so much.” She gave me a tired hug.
“You would have dealt with everything with your usual grace, but I was happy to help. If we clean up quickly, would you have time for a chat before we go to your place? What happened to the new guy?”
Maria shrugged as she turned to the big sink and said over her shoulder, “He left early—said he didn’t feel well. I hope he’s back tomorrow.” She turned on the tap in the big sink and started to hose down the display cases, the window display surface, and the floor, raising her voice to be heard. “I have this down to a fine art, Abby. Why don’t you run out to Overdrive and get us a drink? I would love a matcha tea just now.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to help here?” I asked.
“Absolutely! You were great with the customers, but I remember well when we let you loose with the hose in here before.”
“All right,” I laughed, “but that was twenty-five years ago. I may have changed a bit since then.”
“Maybe, but for the sake of efficiency, I don’t want to find out today. Go on or I’ll be done before you get back.”
It was true. While we had been talking, she had already wiped everything down and was getting ready to sweep up the front area. “Okay, you win. I’ll be right back.” I rushed out the door and ran down the street determined to be as efficient as Maria with my own errand.
It would have been easy, but my run was arrested mid-stride when I spied a Naked cycle, just when I didn’t want to. Why now? I thought to myself, wailing inside. I wondered if I would be able to control my impulse to talk and linger given the opportunity to possibly connect with Dave. I didn’t think it likely that there was more than one Naked cycle that graced Mario’s shop.
I gritted my teeth as I internally mourned a lost opportunity. The shop was empty except for Mario’s sister behind the counter. “Hey Veronica. Where’s everybody?”
She shrugged. “Mario just went upstairs with that Dave dude to look at some video. I was given very specific instructions to keep my eyes on that bike out there.”
“Yeah, I noticed it,” I said. I shrugged too. “Well, I guess that makes things easier. I’m so tempted to join them but I’m on an errand of mercy for Maria. I’ll have the usual, but can you make her a big thick matcha tea please? She needs the fortification.”
Veronica’s brow furrowed as she began to measure two heaping spoons of green tea powder into a tall glass. “I noticed that Maria looks a little worn. Irene’s been away before but it didn’t seem to affect her the way it has this time. I can’t help but wonder if there’s more going on.”
“I was thinking the same myself, girl. I’m going to try to find out tonight.”
“Good. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. For now, these are on the house.” She handed me two tall mugs and a small paper bag she had filled with cookies. “Say hi to Maria for me.”
Kensington Market was a tight community, especially amongst folks who have been there for a long time. We all tried to support each other when we could. I nodded to Veronica as she handed me the drinks. “I’ll tell her and you know Maria. She’s a very private person so this might take bit of work. On the other hand, we’ve known each since we were kids so that should stand for something.” As I turned to go, Veronica came out from behind the counter to open the door for me.
“Not to mention the fact that you are so good at nosing into other people’s business, Ab.” She winked at me before continuing. “In this case, however, it might be a good thing. Oh, by the way,” she said, “Mario told me about your reaction to Dave’s backside, so I will be sure to let them both know how sad you were to have to go away unannounced.”
“No secrets around here, are there?” I said as I reddened slightly. “Try to be a little discreet, Veronica. I really would like to meet this man and get to know him without too much interference.”
“I’ll try. Good thing I’m not into biking men, babe. Now get going. Maria is waiting.”
And sure enough, she was. The whole place was spic and span and Maria was just tidying her already tidy hair when I came in. “Tea rescue here,” I said warmly. “Now let’s take a few minutes to relax before you have to face the family.”
She took her mug and followed me down the hall. When we entered the downstairs room, I hastily kicked the pile of laundry behind the couch and nodded at the worn leather behemoth. “Sit for a few minutes, my old friend.”
Maria sat gingerly on my couch and took a few hits of her matcha tea.
“Thank you so much,” she sighed as she slid back into her seat, not quite smiling. “You know, Abby, I’m not sure I can talk about this. I don’t want to break down. It’s taking all the reserves I have to keep from crying.” She sighed again and gave me a watery gaze. “I still have to get through dinner.”
Sitting next to her, I simply nodded. I was familiar with the need to keep on armour; I just wasn’t used to it from her. “You know, if it’s too much bother, I can easily take a rain check on tonight.”
She sat up firmly, looking alarmed. “No, no! That’s not at all what I meant. It will be a relief to have you there. It will keep us on our best behaviour.” She looked downcast again. “It’s just that Frank isn’t the same these days. I don’t know if it’s the shifts getting to him or what, but we argue all the time. He’s out late after the night shift and comes home without an explanation. If I ask him where he’s been, he becomes angry. He says I don’t need to know all his business, and that’s so unlike him.
“I worry so much about how it must be affecting the kids. Thomas is so angry these days, and he’s becoming friendly with a different group of people. He made friends with Paul after just meeting him two times at the store. Usually he’s more cautious. And Reenie’s the opposite. She just hides in her room most of the time.” Maria’s shoulders slumped, and the tears started to slide down her cheeks as she cried, “Oh Abby, what am I going to do? They are so precious to me. I don’t want them hurting.”
I nodded again and, uncharacteristically quiet, I held her hand and let her cry. She only let herself go for a few minutes and then straightened, squeezed my hand back, and smiled bravely as she wiped her eyes. She took a final mouthful of her tea and then stood. “I know that I didn’t tell you much, but it was so helpful to share this with someone.”
Then she squared her shoulders. “I’m probably just being silly and we’ll get over it. After all, Frank loves the kids. I know he doesn’t want to hurt them.”
I silently doubted that Maria was being silly, as she described it. As far as I was concerned, she didn’t have a silly bone in her body, but I didn’t argue with her. I could see the effort it took her to retain her composure.
“Perhaps you’re right, my friend,” I said, giving her a quick hug. “Have you thought about counselling?”
Grimacing, she replied, “I’ve suggested it, but Frank is reticent. He doesn’t want to talk to a stranger, he says.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?” I asked. “See what’s bugging him?”
She shook her head. “No, not yet anyway, thanks.” She handed me the now empty mug. “Okay I’m ready to go. Just give me two minutes to wash my face and we’ll leave.” Then her worried frown reappeared as she added, “I hope Frank remembered that he’s cooking tonight.” Then she smiled, “He’s still a good cook, so dinner should be tasty. Let’s go on faith, shall we?”
I nodded my agreement, privately wondering what was in store for me at their house. I knew Frank only as an affable, easy-going guy, and I’d known him for a long time. He and Maria had been high school sweethearts. It broke my heart and added to my cynical side to know that the perfect couple was experiencing difficulties. I just hoped they were temporary, but I also knew that it took a lot to throw Maria off kilter.
CHAPTER 7
WE STUCK TO LIGHT TALK IN THE CAR as I tried to buoy Maria’s spirits and distract her from her troubles. And when we arrived at their Mississauga home—a pleasant two-storey brownstone on a quiet side street—everything seemed normal. Frank greeted us in his big black apron brandishing a wooden spoon. He boomed a big hello and, as I inhaled the wonderful aroma of his famous lasagna, he enveloped me in a bone-crushing hug. It all seemed fine as he greeted Maria too, with a big hug and a smoochy kiss. So far, so good, I thought as Frank returned to the kitchen.
The kids tumbled down the stairs, gave me a quick hug and hello, and then grabbed Maria’s hands and tugged her along, relaying their news of the day. A perfect picture of domestic bliss, it seemed. Maria helped the kids set the table, Frank poured me a glass of wine from a half empty bottle, and in a matter of moments, we were sitting down together for dinner. Frank and I polished off the bottle. Maria did not drink at all.
Maria had guessed correctly that company would smooth dialogue. We chatted easily over dinner about my trip out west. As Frank cleared up and brought a fruit crumble in for dessert, Thomas told me that Anita had visited a few times after she came back from her holiday.
Little Reenie piped up, “Yeah, Aunty Abby, she helped us build a box castle—we can show it to you after dinner.”
“That sounds great,” I said. “I’m not much in the castle department, but maybe I can read you a story or two once you get ready for bed.”
Maria nodded her thanks as Frank doled out the delicious crumble. “That would be wonderful, Ab. I can clean up the kitchen with Frank before I drive you to the subway station. It’s been a busy day.”
So I headed upstairs with the children. Anita’s castle was quite elaborate, with small cardboard turrets on box rooms, windows with glitter all over, and rainbows painted over the front door flap. She was fabulously crafty and a genius with children. I was good at appreciating her genius, but could only do my bit by listening to kids talk and reading stories to them.
Once the two of them were washed and brushed, we settled down on Reenie’s bed to read. After some intense negotiation, the two settled on an old chapter book, although Thomas only conceded once he had pointed out it was a little babyish for him.
“I’m getting too big for that stuff, Aunty Abby. I’d rather listen to some tunes,” he said, in a tone of voice that seemed far too old for his eleven years.
He was now at the cusp between snuggling little boy and self-conscious adolescent. I wondered to myself how the stress Maria had described was affecting him and his sister. So far things seemed calm, and I began to hope that maybe Maria was exaggerating, although it wasn’t something she was prone to.
“It’s very considerate of you, Thomas,” I said approvingly, “that you have agreed to the book for Reenie’s benefit. That’s pretty grown up.”
Once his grown-up behaviour had been recognized, Thomas let go of his burgeoning pre-adolescent superiority. He snuggled up to my right side as Reenie, holding tightly to her worn, stuffed bunny, cleaved to my left.
As the main character in the story quietly approached a ring of fairies, our peaceful session was shattered by the sound of breaking glass and raised voices from below. The children immediately stiffened. Reenie cowered against me, burrowing her head under my arm while Thomas disgustedly said, “Not again.”
He got up abruptly and, jamming his headphones over his ears, he tuned in to some head banger music loud enough for me to hear the words and stalked to his room, slamming the door. Moments later I heard heavy steps on the stairs and another door slammed. It happened so fast that I was at a loss, momentarily thrown back to the days when my parents had argued—although usually my father just disappeared for lengths of time.
Holding little Irene close, I waited until her shaking subsided. Then I let her stay in my arms and gently kept saying, “I’m here. You’re safe. It will be okay.” She looked at me mutely, then nodded, not looking convinced. I wasn’t either.
“Do you want me to read some more?” I asked. She shook her head and crawled under her sheets, covering her head with a pillow. I sat with her, not quite sure what to do. After a minute or two, I was relieved to hear Maria’s lighter tread on the stairs.
It was obvious that she had been crying again, but she smiled weakly at me. “I’m sorry Abby,” she whispered. I got up to embrace her but Maria put out her hands to stop me. “No! Not now. Please?”
I understood Maria’s desire to hold herself together and just nodded, squeezing her hand instead.
“Thanks,” she sighed. “Listen, I’m just going to settle Reenie down and then I’ll drive you to the GO train station. Frank’s agreed to stay here until I get back.” As she turned to the little girl still buried in her covers, Maria added, “Give me a few minutes.”
I nodded. “Take as long as you need.” At the door of the room I turned to watch. Maria made cooing sounds while rubbing the lump in the bed that was the little girl’s back and was rewarded with Reenie’s solemn face peeking out. She hugged her mother and settled down, closing her eyes, while she continued holding on to her mother’s arm. It broke my heart to see Maria’s tear-stained face turned tenderly down. She loved her children so much. It must have been so painful to see them suffer and to feel helpless at the same time.
