“Leave it alone, uncle.” Christine grabbed the back of Lane’s shirt.
The mother looked confused. “You said you fell.”
“He called me a bitch, then punched me.” Christine pointed at her eye. “I hit him in the mouth and took out his knee.”
The woman looked at her son. She turned to lead him toward the parking lot.
“She hit me,” he repeated.
Lane followed them. Christine grabbed him by the back of his shirt. When her feet began to slide on the cement, she grabbed a No Parking sign and held on. “Uncle!”
The mother seemed to shrink as she turned. She looked at her son and dropped her eyes. “Please, leave us alone,” she said to Lane. “Let me take care of this.”
Lane and Christine walked across the overfull parking lot. After at least five minutes of silence, Lane put the key in the ignition. “You did that?”
“He showed up drunk. When I told him I didn’t want a ride home, he got mean. He grabbed my arm. I pushed him away. He took a swing at me and hit me in the eye. Then I hit him in the mouth and took out his knee, just the way you taught me.”
She sounds as tired and defeated as I feel.
They drove home in the darkness of the summer evening. Moonlight reflected off oil stains on the pavement, making them shimmer like black puddles of water.
“When do you think it’ll rain?” Christine asked.
Lane shrugged.
“It hurts when you shut us out like this. You know that Uncle Arthur cries in the morning after you leave? I hear him when I wake up. He pretends like he’s not upset, but I can tell. It hurts him. It hurts us all. As if we don’t have enough to worry about with Uncle Arthur’s cancer. That’s why I didn’t want to make a big deal about this.” Christine’s eyes filled with tears.
Lane started to say something but thought better of it.
“Uncle’s worried about you, and so am I.” Christine opened her window and stuck the ice bag outside. The hot air buffeted the inside of the Jeep as she opened the knot in the bag to let the water leak away.
Lane looked in the rear-view mirror. There was a splash of silver on the pavement. His eyes were reflected in the mirror. He saw and felt them filling with tears.
SUNDAY, AUGUST 19
chapter 5
“Uncle Arthur and Christine went shopping. We’re going down by the river. There’s something you have to see.” Matt was scooping up the supper dishes. They clattered against each other as he stuffed them in the dishwasher, deep lines creasing his forehead. There was an intensity to every move Matt made.
“You’re the boss.” Lane handed Matt the salad bowl.
Matt stopped and looked over his shoulder. “And this boss says we talk about your depression and Uncle Arthur’s cancer.”
I opened the door, Lane thought. “Fair enough.”
Roz rode in the back and whined whenever they passed anything resembling a park. She scooted from one side of the Jeep to the other, sticking her nose against the glass.
“So, you gonna start talking or am I?” Matt drove with the seat pushed almost as far forward as it would go. He wore his glasses and refused to take his eyes off the road.
“Okay. What do you know about the fight Christine got into?” Lane watched for any change in Matt’s expression and was rewarded with a frown.
“The guy was drunk, he came on to her, and she took care of it.” Matt smiled.
“That’s all that she told you?”
Matt let out a long sigh. “Not all. Some she asked me to keep private.”
“Do I need to be worried about what I don’t know?”
“If I say no, will you stop worrying?” Matt glanced at his uncle.
“Probably not.”
“What she told me to keep private is nothing you need to worry about – at least not yet.” Matt smiled.
“Thanks a lot,” Lane said.
“Well, you did say that Christine and I need to trust each other. Do you want me to break that trust?” Matt turned off the pavement and onto the gravel road bisecting the park. He grimaced when he failed to avoid a pothole.
“No. How come you remember everything I say?” Lane held onto the door handle as the Jeep bucked.
Matt shrugged. “I don’t know. I just do.”
“I don’t think that what happened to your Mom is going to happen to Arthur.” Lane remembered the weight she’d lost in the final weeks of her cancer. That can’t happen to Arthur!
Roz whined when she realized where they were.
“I hope not.” Matt pulled into a parking space. The dust from the gravel road gathered around the Jeep. He shut off the engine and got out.
They opened the back hatch to let Roz out. She wheezed at the end of the leash. “Come on,” Matt said as the dog dragged him along behind her.
Lane followed them to a paved path that headed toward the river before turning east to parallel the water. Lane felt the cooler air carried by a breeze from the west. He looked to the bluff where Douglas firs climbed up one hundred metres to the homes in the neighbourhood of Wildwood.
Matt shifted his grip. Roz coughed and pulled.
“Where are we going?” Lane asked.
“It’s not very far.” Matt threw the comment over his shoulder as Roz lunged forward.
They could hear geese honking ahead and to their left. Lane watched a pair of Canada geese join the flock of birds already gathered on the green expanse between the soccer field and river pathway. “I used to do this at home,” Matt said, “when the geese gathered in the early fall. It made me feel like I could do anything, you know. If I was feeling down, if my dad made me feel like I didn’t exist, I’d just go into the field and wait until they landed.” His voice was high-pitched with anticipation. He held on tight to Roz’s leash.
“You used to do what?” Lane looked at the geese and then the river. Are we going to jump off the bank?
“Ready?” Matt stared at Lane.
“For what?”
Roz lunged, pulling Matt along behind. The dog ran with fluid power, her ears pointed forward and her tail a straight line. Matt ran with one leg catching up to the other, his trailing foot aimed off at odd angles. It looked as if, at any moment, he might trip and fall face-forward onto the grass.
Lane began to run. He was a little to the right of Roz and Matt.
The geese began to honk. Soon, Lane and Matt were side by side. Matt dropped the leash and Roz dodged left, forcing the flock in front of Matt and Lane.
There must be over one hundred birds.
Their wings began to flap as they waddled, then ran. Lane was almost among the birds. He looked at Matt. Pure joy deepened the lines around his nephew’s eyes. Matt let out a cry of exhilaration as the geese began to lift off.
Lane could feel the air pushed by their wings. He looked right. A goose was flying beside him, honking. The tip of its wing brushed Lane’s shoulder. Geese surrounded him now. Their necks bobbed as they worked to gain altitude. Lane felt as if he were about lift off as well. The wind kissed his face. The flock was all around him. For a moment, he was part of the undulating mass of Canadian geese. Lane screamed with unexpected joy.
A minute later, Roz came back, her tongue hanging out one side of her mouth. Matt was bent over, his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
Lane inhaled and watched the flock as it turned west, then south over the river. “Amazing!” he said.
Matt smiled at his uncle. “Makes you feel alive, doesn’t it? Like you could fly!” He threw his arms up and laughed.
“I think I’m going to get fired tomorrow.” The words were out before Lane could reel them back in.
Matt stared. “You sure?”
“I made the chief look bad when we arrested one of his buddies. You remember the dentist who was into little girls?”
Matt nodded.
“He was one of Chief Smoke’s buddies. That’s why Smoke put me under investigation. It’s not about the weapon at all.”