Going Down Swinging Part 16

I looked at the Player's Light pack beside his feet and said, "Hm. I see ..." He looked over and chewed inside his lip. I figured I must've nailed him a good one and it was like eating chocolate cake made from scratch.

We came to a red light and both of us stared at it. He lowered his chin and straightened up when the light turned green. "So. How's Lyle? That's such a great name, what made you think of it?"

The Hoods must've said something to him. He was getting me back. I did my no-big-deal voice. "Dead."

Todd watched over the steering wheel till it sunk in. "Pardon?"

"Dead."

I watched him without turning my head. He squinted like something really hurt. "Dead? He died?" He didn't know.

"Quite." I was doing my best Mum imitation. "Last night, as it were." I was sophisticated like crazy.

"Well, why didn't you tell me earlier? Did the cats get him?"

"Nope. Musta got a bad bird. Probably had a short." I got him with a Mum-and-me joke on top of it. I was stomping him.

"What? What is that supposed to mean? What's with you, Grace? Something on your mind? Because I'm sensing a little hostility here. You know, because if you've got something to share or get off your chest, then you needn't be sarcastic with me." I looked out my window. He kept going. "I feel as though you're acting out at me sometimes, Grace, and I don't feel I deserve it. I know it's a drag what's happened to you; I know you've had it rough, but at the same time-you're so d.a.m.n used to getting your own way, you just make it harder on yourself. Maybe you're used to adults thinking it's cute, your precocious snide little remarks, but I'll tell you right now, it's not going to get you very far. My politics, my job, my life are none of your business."

I couldn't think all the sudden, so I said, "Me too," and my stomach hurt like maybe I would fart and then Todd Baker would win because I'd be ugly and disgusting and riff-raff.

"What?"

"Nothing." Tears ached under my eyeskin.

Todd Baker turned to me as we pulled up in front of the house my mother's place was in. "Grace ... what is with you? You are so-moody. Sometimes you're such a great kid, you're bright and funny, and other times you're nothing but aggressive and manipulative. Don't start crying, it's-forget it, it's no big deal. You're here. Maybe you just need a little time out. You won't have to see the Hoods or me again for another four days." I sat straight, gulping myself back. Todd watched me and wobbled his gears.h.i.+ft back and forth.

I shoved open the door and climbed out, grabbing in the back seat for the suitcase Mrs. Hood loaned me. It caught on something and I banged it back and forth to get it free. Todd told me to hang tough and he'd be right there while he ran around to my side, hanging on to the car so he wouldn't fall on the ice. But it was too late, the slush slid out under my feet; everything flipped up and sideways and slammed me down on my b.u.m.

Todd got there just as I landed. "Aw Grace, com'ere, let me help you. If you could ever be patient." He smiled and tried to catch hold of my arms.

"Lemme-just leave me alone, I can do it myself." I slid around in the dirty slush and gra.s.s until I got standing enough to hold on to the car roof, then backed up to the sidewalk.

Todd picked the suitcase out of the slush and tiptoed through it. "Here, Grace, let me help you in-I'll carry it."

"No. I'm fine-just-I don't need help." I grabbed the suitcase, doing my best not to touch him. "G.o.d. I'm going to see my mum, OK? so I'm fine-just-Thank you," and dragged it up the walkway. Todd stood there and I didn't look back until I heard both car doors slam and the engine go burping down the street.

Eilleen Eleven.

DECEMBER 1974.

GET READY. Peering out your window, moments ago, there appeared to be a war on your sidewalk. You open the door and glee Lamby-Pie at the soggy lump on your doorstep.

Your child is grey-slushed from ground to elbows, her eyebrows arm-wrestling above her nose; there is a glob of mud sticking hair to her jaw. Don't you look lovely, you say and pull her in by the coat collar, await the tirade, the stomping ...

Nothin: she just stares at her boots, tight-mouthed. You undo b.u.t.tons, thinking, Christ, those foster people have cruddy taste in clothes, then slide the dismal brown coat down off her and say, Wanna step out of these? Her eyes are welling as you pull off black gumboots, stand them on the doormat and heap that coat over top. What's wrong? and you take her jaw in your hands and kiss her smack on the mouth. What's wiff oo? poor antface and tears fling themselves out of her ducts and you're half-surprised she hasn't taught them to shriek as they go. You wish for her sake she could say, You should see the other guy, but you saw him yourself and he was dry-dry, just a bit of social-worker dismay stuck in his teeth. You put your arms around her bony body-it's bonier than usual -and hug, kiss three times: temple, cheek, neck, and say What's the matter? Say something. What were you and Baker fighting about?

I don't know, she says and squashes herself against you, stuffs her face in your neck.

Uh oh. What did you say? and she yowls and pulls off; you've stepped on her tail. Well s.h.i.+t, it's not really an accusation, it's just-Well, don't get your s.h.i.+rt in a knot, come back here. I just wondered, just seems like he's too nerdy to actually start a fight with a beast like you.

She likes being called a beast and this has a calming effect. She takes a breath, then, I asked him what a draft dodger was.

Gasp here. You and your big mouth. Oh, Grace! Gees. That's all you can think of before a laugh squirts out of you. What a b.u.g.g.e.r you are!

Oh well, a girl's got to survive and you hold her to your chest and pat between her shoulder blades, the loose amethyst in your ring giggling against her back. She gurgles and slurps tears over your shoulder and you pull back to look at her, kiss her cheek as you pa.s.s it, say Ew, are you getting me all snotty?

And her gurgles round into giggles and she shudder-breathes and says, And he asked why Lyle died and I said that he must've got me a bad bird and maybe there was a short in it.

Ack! That's all you have to say to that. And all the giggles-yours, hers, your ring's-turn to cackles because nothing is more hilarious than flipping a family joke about men on a man like Baker, since Baker's just the kind of man who started that joke: the kind of man who picks up any broken household appliance, c.o.c.ks his head and then, like a belch after beer, must follow with, Ah huh, well, must be a short in it.

Well! you say, enough about him, let's talk about us ... Looky-looky-and you reach into your blouse and whip an envelope out of your bra. And her eyes splash at the frivolous oh-so-naughty gesture. She squeaks Charlie? before you can open your mouth again.

She s.n.a.t.c.hes it out of your hand, tries to rifle it open, drops it and looks about to cry again. She sorrys, picks it up and pulls out the pages, scans Charlie's looping squirrel script and asks you to read it to her: Dear Mum, I hope you get this. The last one I sent came back. I'm going to try mailing it to Lilly Darling at Welfare. She'll probably know where you are. I hope you guys are doing OK. G.o.d I miss you. I feel like I'm going to die of homesickness. But guess what, I'm coming home soon. I wanted to call you so bad and tell you but Ian won't let me have a phone. He says I'll just run up long-distance bills. Everything's kind of weird right now. I'll tell you when I get back. Oh G.o.d, I can't wait. Every day takes a week but at least I know I get to see you guys soon and Sam'll get to see his Nana and his Aunty Grace. Probably after Christmas, around the beginning of January. Tell Graceface I love her like crazy and I can't wait to hug her again. I love you.

Love Charlie xoxoxoxoxox P.S. Do you think you could call Lilly Darling when you get this and ask her if I can get Welfare again when I come back?

P.P.S. And also tell Grace that I'm sorry I won't have money for Christmas presents this year. I wish I had bags of money to buy her everything in the world, xoxox Grace looks like she's about to hyperventilate. Did it come in the mail? she says, Who's Lilly Darling?

Lilly Darling is Charlie's old social worker Remember, she was over last year when we first moved to Vancouver. Maybe you were out. Anyway, I guess she dropped it off because it was under the door this morning.

Well, are you gonna call her, Lilly Darling, are you gonna call and tell her Charlie needs a welfare cheque at beginning of January?

Yes. Yes I am, in fact I already did. So they know she's coming. They'll do up an emergency a.s.sistance cheque when she goes into the office.

Her face looks stunned, stuck in limbo, as if she's too scared to get excited. So you grab her and start to waltz round the kitchen-Charlie's coming soon, chachacha, her boyfriend's a baboon, chachacha, we're gonna sing a tune, chachacha, cause we're crazy like loons, chachacha. And she giggle-shrieks at the ceiling as you dip her.

You realize the first night how uncomfortable she is discussing the Hoods, and you're not sure who she's scared of: you or them. Or Baker. But she won't come out with much in the way of details. You must infer things, deduce from the way her body buoys up when you suggest making popcorn in the middle of the afternoon, to watch The Newlywed Game and Match Game back to back, that this isn't the way things go in her current abode. Must a.s.sume that Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gormes announcement on Tattletales that they would probably live together first if they met today would not be tolerated in the Hood house by the way Grace glances from the screen to you and back. By the way she suddenly plunks a television trivia question on the table: Rhoda slept over at Joe's sometimes before they were married, right? And you say, Sure.

She looks vindicated-Just cuz Wendy and Lilly said no way that Rhoda never did that before she was married or they wouldn't watch the show.

Well, the yoke's on them. Is there a lot you're not allowed to watch over there?

She shrugs, mumbles and clams up.

And so that's how it goes, she drops crumbs and you try to make stuffing. It's good, though. Mostly. You gave her the bed and you've been sleeping on the pullout couch-figured it would benefit both of you, since you can't sleep and end up pacing around the house at all hours and you don't want to bomb yourself with the pills it would take to put you out because-well, just because.

Because it feels good to be awake sometimes and hear her squeak and the blankets ruffle, to be able to go in there and say there-there, ask what she dreamed. The second night with you, she woke up and sat staring out the window. When you came to her, she said, I feel like I'm forgetting something, like I'm supposed to be somewhere. I feel like someone's coming.

Just Charlie, you said and kissed her.

Nights you can't sleep and nights you can, you dream schemes of driving away, and it's so real the steering wheel just floats under your hands and the top is down and Grace is bouncing on her side of a white leather bench seat, playing with the radio dials. You're somewhere on the Prairies and there's a breeze and the two of you are getting pink in the sun and she's singing that song, that one she used to sing about a brand new pair of roller skates. "I ride my bike, I roller skate, don't drive no car, don't go too fast but I go pretty far. For somebody who don't drive I bin all around the world; some people say I done all right for a girl."

"Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without presents." That was the first line of your favourite book when you were Grace's age. Little Women. Maybe you were older. But you bought it for her anyway. And you bought her one of those little Kodak cameras and two games: Payday and checkers. And goofy things like a straw that coils around in circles before it gets to your mouth, and you were going to get her a Pet Rock but the really goofy thing was the price. And she got you these enormous fluffy purple slippers that you'll never wear because they make you look like Carol Burnett. There's one last one to open; it's for you from her. Wait, Grace grabs the camera while you examine your present, wondering what in G.o.d's name she's picked out: s.h.i.+ny and flat and could only be a record. You shake it anyway, gaze up at the lights on the tree. She says it's a new basketball and laughs uproariously, looks through the camera and tells you to be Christma.s.sy. Flas.h.!.+ she yaps. You bring the present down on your lap and start lifting the edges of taped paper. Faster! she orders and reaches over as if she's going to help.

Get lost, goofball! you say. She rolls her eyes and leans back to flash another Kodak moment. Quit it, you, I was busy savouring and now I'm going to look like an old hag in that picture.

And it's-who? You smile at the Cellophane-covered jacket, say, How do you know who the Ray Charles Singers are?

I don't. You said it once and I wrote it down.

It's one in the morning, Christmas Eve, and you've never been so grateful for another human being in your life.

Hoffman, Anne Eilleen 22.12.74 (T. Baker) As by agreement, Grace taken to her mother's for the holidays. She will be staying until December 26th. I have already made arrangement to go to court on January 6th to request an early return of Grace to her mother, as Mrs. Hoffman is managing very well now. We had talked of a V.I.P. placement earlier in the month, and now that she is physically stronger, she has taken to the idea of a job quite well. She is still attending AA.

Except for pressure to visit her mother, Grace has not had any requests and has been doing very well, except for minor conflicts with Mrs. Hood's little girls.

26.12.74 (T. Baker) Grace taken back to Mrs. Hood's.

27.12.74 (T. Baker) Grace had tantrum over her allowance, slamming doors, etc.

Grace Thirteen.

DECEMBER 1974.

WE ALL COUNTED the days until February third, when I'd be gone for good. Mrs. Hood still tried to make me feel included, though: she told me one morning, while Lilly and Wendy were arguing about Jews and whether they'd survive through Armageddon, that their family vacation was coming up. Lilly'd been explaining to me, "We don't get blood transfusions cuz it's wrong. Or any bloods at all, even. Like in the war, Hitler tried to make us eat blood sausage but we wouldn't but the Jews ate them, plus they fought amongst themselves. See, they're not at peace with each other and they prob'ly won't survive Judgment Day." I was wondering if I should tell Josh that or if he rathered not know. I couldn't stand it if G.o.d hurt Josh. Then Wendy yelled at Lilly that she shouldn't talk about the Jews because they were G.o.d's chosen people. And Lilly yelled back that she never said anything bad about them and "I can say Jew any time I want-Jew-Jew-Jew!" Mrs. Hood told everyone to simmer down and changed the subject with this thing about a trip to Harrison Hot Springs. She said they had friends there with a place and there would be room if I wanted to join them. Lilly rolled her eyes and I suddenly got a jumping under my jaw, like a big hopping nerve, while I tried to think of an excuse not to go. "I don't have any money, though; I don't think I can do trips."

"Child Protection makes allowances for things like that. I've already asked Todd about it. So you give it some thought. We can probably make arrangements for you to stay somewhere if you don't want to go. By the way, I'm working tonight, I switched evenings with another lady at work, so you kids'll have to get your own dinner this evening." She poured herself some more tea.

Lilly groaned. "I hate when we have to make ourself dinner-stupid Grace won't eat anything."

They kept on about McDonald's and I tried to picture Mrs. Hood working at the White Spot, waiting on tables, smiling the way she did the first day I met her. "If you only work one night a week," I asked her, "how do you pay for stuff? Do you get other money? Like, for me?"

"You're rather inquisitive this morning, aren't you?" Mrs. Hood looked at me like I was a c.o.c.kroach on the counter.

"What's that?"

"It Means You're Nosey." It would've been funny if Mum said it. My mind went out of the room and into a story about a dead cat a boy in school told me about. He said his brother went to the SPCA, got a cat they put to sleep, boiled its skin off and put back together the bones. I wondered where it was, all skinless, put back together wrong, teetering till someone figured out all you had to do was flick it right and it'd clatter all over the floor.

Stuff seemed better if I wasn't around the house. I spent as much time as I could at Sadie and Eddy's or over with Josh and his mum, but then Mrs. Hood got it in her head that I was spending too much time at their places. So she decided she needed to give my friends' mums something to show her thankfulness.

I watched her lining up batches of perogies on cookie sheets and tried to ask why without being inquisitive. I told her she didn't have to: "Sadie and Josh's mums invite me."

"That's fine, but it's important to show grat.i.tude."

I stared at the white blobs. She was going to give Sheryl Sugarman and Alice a prize for being able to stand me. I went up to my room and waited until she called me down and loaded Wendy, Lilly, me and two trays of Saran-Wrapped perogies in the car and drove away.

We weren't on the road that long before I forgot where we were going. Couldn't remember if it was bowling or skating; one time we talked about bowling.

Or a meeting in someone's house. Phyllis-my name's not Phyllis, kept going through my mind, loud then soft, hard then slow. Who was that-where were we when I was Phyllis? Then nothing. It was like one of those blank-s.p.a.ce-in-my-brain things. But giant.

We pulled up in front of a house and Mrs. Hood told me to go on. I looked out the window and reached for the door handle, except there was food on my lap, a thing of perogies.

s.p.a.ce.

Something about perogies.

Maybe if I felt around, asked questions like normal-"With these?" I pointed my nose at my lap.

"Yes! Go on, we haven't got all night. I want to get home by a decent hour. And for goodness' sake, don't drop them."

I walked up the path like a tightrope. I knew the house, I knew where I was; it was in there somewhere. On the tip of my brain. I went up the steps with the tray, wondering if I'd fall. With the perogies in one arm, I got the screen door open, but the tray started to go and Phyllis! I yelled that in my brain so G.o.d would hear, caught the tray against the door and knocked. Feet banged towards me, inside, and the door swung away and I grabbed hold of the tray with both hands.

Then Eddy, standing there. Eddy. This was Sadie and Eddy's house. Sadie came up behind and they smiled and said Hey! and What're you doing here? things like that. I smiled back. I was mostly glad someone I knew opened the door. Sadie and Eddy and me looked at each other and I looked back at the car, opening my mouth in case the reason might come out. Mrs. Hood's shadow was hunched, her head ducked a bit so she could see me. Because I was supposed to do-something ...

Alice came up behind Sadie and Eddy, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, saying, "Hey, what the h.e.l.l're you kids doin', tryin to warm up the neighbourhood? Close the b.l.o.o.d.y door." I smiled at her the way she was doing and Sadie and Eddy were doing until I figured out I must've made a mistake. Alice bounced her eyebrows at my tray and said, "Hey, are those for me?" and I looked at them.

"I think I'm in the wrong place, I can't-just a sec," and I ran back down the stairs to the car.

Mrs. Hood rolled down her window. "What are you doing?"

Just. Nothing. s.p.a.ce. And a tray. "Am I supposed to give these to them?"

Wendy watched straight ahead at the headlights on the road. Her mum leaned across and snapped, "Yes! Of course. Go! What are you doing?"

I turned slowly. Really slowly. Like a hand going in a birdcage, walking, and walking faster because maybe it was that I was in trouble. I came to the door where the three of them were whispering at each other. The screen door opened again and I tried to make my tray into words. "Yeah. These. These're made-she made them for you." Sadie and Eddy looked at each other and duhed me at the same time. I nodded and laughed because that's what you do when you're dozed-out and someone says, "Duh."

Alice took the perogies. "Wow, that's terrific! Well, thank, uh, what's her face for me, that's very nice of her-you comin' in or what? It's colder than a witch's t.i.t."

In. "I don't know." And I looked back at the car and saw Mrs. Hood's arm waving or pulling something towards her. Me, maybe. I looked back at Alice. "Um. No." Eddy laughed. Sadie smacked him and he called her a lez. "'K. Um. Bye," and I walked away.

Next was Josh's place. I did it fast and quick and didn't talk that much to them.

The day after the perogie night, I called Todd Baker about Harrison Hot Springs and told him how I'd rather do something else with my vacation money. After that, I kept going over it in my head, what I was going to tell Mrs. Hood and how she wasn't going to get mad. The next day in the afternoon, after Kingdom Hall, I figured it was a good time. She was baking.

Just act natural, I figured.

And I went into the kitchen where she was putting spoonfuls of dough on a cookie sheet. "Um. I was talking to Todd and-I said-well, he said that if I wanted to go do a different kind of thing, I could. And it didn't have to be Harrison Hot Springs."

"Uh huh." She either wasn't listening or it was going good.

"Like fo-the money they give for me doesn't have to be for Harrison. I asked him and he said that if I didn't want to go, that you'd be getting money and that I could get it from you."