Kaleidoscope (23 page)

“Mimi, come closer. You can’t see how they fish from up there.” Madeleine’s chiming little girl’s voice was excited.

“I’m coming,” I said. I made my way down the creekbank in time to watch two pelicans, their throat pouches expanded, catching their lunch. I stared at them without interest.

Lena was watching my face. “Why aren’t you having a good time?” she asked.

“I’m having a good time,” I said. “And I’m going to take a picture, so Granddad can see how much fun we’re having.” I pulled out my BlackBerry and recorded the moment. Then
I sent the photo to Zack with a note: “I’m fine. Wish you were here.”

When we tired of the pelicans, we went to the playground, where the girls demonstrated their prowess on the monkey bars. Then, after a quick stop at Mac’s for Popsicles, we went back to Mieka’s.

Riel was unlocking the front door. He was wearing pressed jeans and a very new-looking white shirt. “Perfect timing,” he said. He greeted the girls and then me – a little sheepishly. “Leland and I finished twenty minutes ago,” he said. “Mieka was still at her meeting, so I hopped the bus so you could get on with your life.”

“This
is
my life,” I said. “We had a good time.”

“We went to see the pelicans,” Lena said. “And then we went to the playground and then to Mac’s for Popsicles.”

“So now you’re ready to get down to work,” Riel said.

Madeleine’s eyes were bright. “Are we going to get started on the ice-cream stand today?”

“No time like the present,” Riel said. “But if you’re going to be doing carpentry, you’d better put on long pants, long-sleeved shirts, and real shoes and socks.”

The girls raced into the house. I followed Riel inside to the kitchen. “Can I get you anything?” he asked.

“Thanks,” I said. “I had a Popsicle. So how did the meeting go?”

“Pretty well, I think. It was at your husband’s office.” Riel shook his head. “That place is intimidating.”

“I believe that’s the intent,” I said.

Riel smiled. “Anyway, I scored some points, and so did Leland. We established the ground rules for Nation
TV
’s coverage of the mediation. Nothing major except Leland agreed that we should hold our meetings at a place where people from North Central who wanted to be part of the process would feel at ease.”

“Did you come up with a location?”

“Yes. The Willy Hodgson Recreation Centre.”

“Good choice – for Nation
TV
, too – more atmospheric than a lawyer’s office.”

My cell rang. I glanced at the caller
ID
. It was Debbie Haczkewicz. “Riel, I have to take this call,” I said. “I’ll go out on the deck.”

As always, Debbie went straight to the point. “Zack asked me to give you a call.”

“I’m glad you did. I meant to phone to see how your cold was, but there’s been so much going on.”

“Understood,” Debbie said. “I seem to be on the mend, thanks. Zack said you wanted an update on the girl. There’s nothing new there. Physically, she’s still ‘doing as well as can be expected.’ ”

“Having been raped and forced to fellate those animals.”

Debbie sighed. “I used to get angry, too, Joanne. It didn’t change a thing, except my blood pressure.”

“Can the little girl have visitors?”

“She has visitors. From the police department and from social services. They’ll be working together to develop a plan to keep her safe and get her off the streets.”

“I thought I might stop by the hospital to see her.”

“Bad idea for both of you, Joanne.”

I waited, but Debbie didn’t elaborate. “All right,” I said. “Could I leave a gift for her?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know – something to help her pass the time in the hospital.”

“That would be fine. The girl’s name, incidentally, is April Stonechild. She just turned eleven. This is not the first time she has come to our attention.”

The churning in my stomach had started again. “Thanks for the call, Deb,” I said.

But once again, I was talking to dead air. Inspector Haczkewicz had moved along.

When I came back inside, Riel was sitting at my grandmother’s maple table with the plans for the ice-cream stand spread out in front of him. He looked up. “Everything okay?”

I was about to offer a polite lie, but the lines his life and his choices had carved into his face stopped me. “No,” I said. “Nothing’s okay.”

I sat down and told him about the incident on Rose Street – I didn’t care if he wondered what I’d been doing running in North Central at five in the morning. As I talked, Riel’s body tensed and his mouth tightened. His eyes never left mine, but they were so filled with pain and anger, I found it difficult not to look away. When I was finished, he said, “So now you’re getting an idea about what it’s like to live in North Central.”

“Yes.”

“And you wish you weren’t.” His laugh was jagged.

I stood. “I’d better go up and say goodbye to the girls. I have some errands to run and I’d like to get April’s gift to her.”

“What are you planning to get her?” Riel asked.

“I was thinking of an iPod.”

“Her family will sell it to get drug money.”

“Maybe April will be lucky and she won’t have to go back there.”

“Oh, she’ll go back,” Riel said.

“But if the police and social services can work out an alternative, why would she?”

“Because that’s the only home she has,” Riel said. And then he pounded his fist against the table with such violence that for a moment I thought he had split it in two.

CHAPTER
12

All our children attended Luther College High School. When Mieka had asked to go to Luther, Ian was opposed. He said that as an elected member of the people’s party, his children should be in public schools. I pointed out that Mieka had been at Lakeview Public School from kindergarten to Grade Eight and that the boys were still there. I also pointed out that school had never been Mieka’s primary interest, but that she was passionate about basketball, that Luther had a good basketball program, and that Mieka’s best friend, Lisa Wallace, was going to Luther. I didn’t win the argument on points, but Ian had bigger fish to fry. He lost interest in the dispute, and all our kids ended up at Luther, where they had been as happy as anyone ever is in high school.

As I pulled into the Luther parking lot on the night of the All-College, I had another “through the looking glass” moment. The campus was the same as it had always been: lush and well tended. The old brick buildings were as solid and handsome as ever. Sparkling in her tangerine silk botanical-print dress, Taylor had the same brio I remembered brimming over in Mieka and her friends on the night of their
first big dinner and dance. The event would be as it had always been: girls bright in their summer dresses, boys wearing too much hair product, overcooked roast beef, and watery, lumpy mashed potatoes. Everything was the same, but I wasn’t the same, and like Alice in Wonderland, I was nagged by the question “If I’m not the same … who in the world am I?”

As soon as we entered the building, Taylor made a beeline for her two best friends, Gracie Falconer and Isobel Wainberg. Gracie took after her father, Blake, a tall, husky redhead with freckles, and at fifteen, she was already six-feet tall and a star of the Luther basketball team. She was not fashion’s slave, and that night she wore comfortable summer slacks, a cheerful shirt, and sandals. Isobel, delicate boned and with pale, translucent skin, intelligent eyes, and black wiry curls, was wearing a simple and flattering sleeveless white dress appliquéd with a black floral design at the neckline. The girls exclaimed over one another’s outfits as if they hadn’t spent the last month texting and chatting about every detail of what they would wear that night. I told them that they were beautiful, snapped a couple of pictures that I sent to Zack, then headed for the kitchen.

Margot was already there. When she spotted me, she grinned and extended her leg. “Check out the footwear,” she said.

Margot’s five-inch stilettos were part of her signature look. I had seldom seen her without them, but tonight she was wearing turquoise sneakers with soles that looked as if they had traction.

“You said the floors can get slick here,” she said, handing me an apron. “I wasn’t about to risk my neck or the heel of one of my Manolos. Anyway, thanks for the heads-up. I’m counting on you for further wise counsel in the years ahead.”

I tied my apron. “Actually, ‘wear sensible shoes’ pretty much covers everything I know.”

Margot handed me a potato masher. “In that case, make yourself useful.”

When I’d helped at Mieka’s first All-College, the kitchen was filled with women. Now the gender balance was even. Blake Falconer and Noah Wainberg were side by side at the counter where the roasts of beef were being sliced, and a couple of other fathers, whom I knew only slightly, were tossing salad and talking baseball at another workstation. As the parents worked, the conversation drifted pleasantly from talk of children, to high school memories, to summer plans. The familiarity of it all was lulling, and my nerves began to unknot. After the last potato was mashed and the grey roast beef was sliced and put in the oven to keep warm, the students began to take their places. As they filed in and sat at the long banquet tables, the kitchen grew quiet. The All-College may have been anachronistic, but watching your child reach the milestone of another completed school year was still a sweet moment.

We finished serving dinner to the students and sat down to begin our own meal. Margot was outgoing, and she had been quick to establish an easy camaraderie with the other parents, many of whom who were from places very much like Wadena. The conversation was pleasantly inconsequential – mostly about life in a small town: marathon perogie-making sessions before a big event, the pleasures of beauty salons that still knew how to style really big hair, and the fact that for good or ill, when you lived in a small town, you were never alone.

Margot and I noticed Louise Hunter at the same time, swaying in the doorway of the gym. Scanning the room for Declan, Louise seemed oblivious to everything else. The students sat at long rows of tables organized by grade. Taylor and the other Grade Nines were seated at the least desirable tables – the ones closest to the parents. Declan, two years
ahead of Taylor, was in the centre of the room. Louise spotted her son and began weaving towards his row of tables.

Margot and I both rose from our seats before Declan noticed his mother’s arrival. But Taylor caught my eye, and her worried look made me all the more determined to make sure Louise didn’t ruin her son’s, and my daughter’s, night. Within seconds, Margot and I were at Louise’s side. Margot took Louise’s arm and began to lead her very firmly back towards the entrance, but Louise suddenly came out of her daze and fought back. “Get your hands off me,” she said. “I mean it, don’t touch me, Margot.”

“Why don’t you get back to your dinner, Margot,” I said. “Louise and I will go outside and get some fresh air.” I turned to Louise. “Okay with you?” She hesitated, then nodded numbly.

The gym had been warm and it was good to be outside. I took a deep, calming breath. The air was still and fragrant with the clean, moist scent of damp grass. The late-afternoon light was soft, but even the gentlest light could not disguise Louise’s agony. She looked unwell and utterly exhausted. Louise’s behaviour tapped into a well of emotion about my own alcoholic mother that I had worked long and hard to keep sealed. I wasn’t an idiot: I knew that my identification with Declan skewed my judgment of Louise. I wasn’t fair to her, and most of the time, I didn’t care, but sitting beside her on the bench in front of Luther with the sun dropping in the sky, it was impossible not to respond to her suffering. “Would you like me to drive you home?” I said.

Louise shook her head. “I’ll call Sage.” Louise took her cell from her bag and hit speed-dial.

When Sage answered, Louise was close to tears. “I know you were planning to spend the evening getting caught up on your work, but I need to be picked up. I’m at Luther. Could you hurry, please? I don’t think Declan saw me, but I
don’t want him to. I’ve already humiliated myself enough. I’ll be waiting at the front.” She paused. “Sage, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

For a while, we sat without speaking: me watching the automatic sprinklers spraying water on the already soaking grass, Louise staring off into some private distance of her own.

“It would be easier if Leland died,” she said suddenly. “Then I wouldn’t have to spend every hour of the day imagining him with her. If he had a heart attack, I would be devastated, but at least there would be an end to it. There’s no end to this.”

I found her vehemence unsettling, but I also knew that the addicted live on an emotional roller coaster.

“Louise, give yourself a chance.”

She tilted her chin defiantly. “Stop drinking?”

“That’s your decision,” I said. “All I know is that you have everything you need for a good life. You’re healthy. You’re talented. You’re attractive. You have a fine son. You have friends, and you have enough money to do whatever you want – travel, study, get involved with the arts or a charity – you have many, many options. You’re a very lucky woman.”

Louise’s smile was faint. “Nice try,” she said. “But I’m not buying.”

When Sage Mackenzie’s Lexus appeared, Louise and I both had solid reasons for being relieved. My day had caught up with me. I was running on empty, and Louise’s hands were shaking. When I stood to walk her to Sage’s car, Louise waved me off. “You did what you could,” she said. Then she moved quickly towards the Lexus and deliverance.

The falling sun’s light was soothing and I was in no hurry to go inside, but I’d just settled back on the bench when Margot joined me. “Taylor was worried,” she said. “So was I. Leland told me about what happened this morning with the
little girl. He said you were both heartsick. I shouldn’t have forced you to handle Louise.”

“You didn’t force me,” I said. “We both knew it would be easier for Louise to deal with me.”