Flee, Fly, Flown Page 9

  The bag is lying beside my purse in the back seat. “I must have held onto it without realizing it,” I say. We eat one whole bag, savoring the salt and crunch. We watch the steam rising from the pavement.

  “You must be sore,” I say when we finish eating. “Should we find a hospital?”

  “No, I’ll be fine. I’d better get home though. Terry’s going to wonder where I am. He doesn’t like it when I stay out too long. Can you take me home?”

  “What do you mean? Does he get mad?”

  “Sometimes.” Audrey looks away. “Sometimes he yells at me and calls me names, or he just doesn’t talk to me for days. Other times it’s worse.”

  “He’s a bully too,” I say. “He’s no better than those boys who pushed you down.”

  “He’s not a…he’s not that. He loves me,” she says. “Please take me home now.”

  “We’re not going home. We’re going back onto the highway and we’re getting away from this place and all the places we live. Come on. Get out your map and tell me which way to turn.”

  “You don’t always get to decide,” Audrey says. “I want to go home.”

  “Nope. Sorry. You signed up, and now you’re stuck with me. Lucy and Ethel are on the move.”

  It feels like we’ve been traveling for days. I have no idea how far we’ve come since leaving Rayne, but birthdays and anniversaries and graduations have surely passed. We find the access to Highway 11 and slowly, carefully merge with the traffic. Why are they honking at me? I speed up when I feel more comfortable, but mostly I stay in the right lane, in case

  I need to pull over for some reason. I like to be prepared.

  Audrey is afraid to watch the cars speed by so she looks only to the right.

  “Stop!” she yells. “Pull over.” She grabs my arm.

  I slam on the brakes and swerve to the right. Two figures on the shoulder of the road jump off into the grass.

  “My God, what was that?” I say, every nerve in my body alive and prickling. I maneuver the car to a halt and let go of the wheel. “What was that all about?”

  “It was Rayne and the dog,” she says.

  “That’s impossible. You nearly made me kill someone back there. Don’t ever do that again.”

  Audrey opens the door and hollers back to the figures on the side of the road. “Hey, Rayne. It’s us: Audrey and Lillian.”

  In the rearview mirror, I see them approaching. She’s right. It is Rayne, and he looks furious. I think about driving away, but physically I just can’t. I am shaking so badly I can barely breathe.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to kill me?” he says as he stands by the door. “How did you even make it this far driving like that?” He drops his bag and case on the ground and kneels down to check on Shadow. “You okay, girl?”

  “We made it here just fine, thank you very much,” I say. “Is she all right?”

  He nods. “She’s fine, but how many others did you run over between here and Cochrane?”

  “You are so bitter. Did you ever think you’d be much happier if you weren’t so judgmental?” I ask. “How did you get here?”

  “Got a ride with a guy in a truck. He was only going as far as Kapuskasing.”

  Audrey tries to shift around in her seat to see Rayne better but lets out a squeal. “Oooh, that hurts,” she says. “Some kid pushed me down in the parking lot.”

  “What?” Rayne asks.

  “Yeah, pushed me right down and stole my purse,” Audrey says. “You should have been there.”

  “What are you talking about?” he moves closer to the door.

  “We bought chips and then two boys stole my purse and ran away.”

  “No way. You’re making this up, trying to trick me into getting back in the car.”

  Audrey starts to pull at the waistband of her pants. “Do you want to see the bruises?”

  “No. I do not.” Both he and the dog are still damp and smell of wet canvas and dog hair. Except for the whiskers, Rayne looks like a little boy, lost on the highway with his dog.

  “Hop in,” I say. “We can at least take you to the next town and get something to eat.”

  “Only if I’m driving,” he says.

  The door opens and the back seat fills with sloppy, wet dog. I hand Rayne the keys and move to the back seat. The smell of marijuana lingers on him. He moves away and loads everything into the trunk.

  “Welcome aboard,” Audrey says, clapping her hands and smiling. “He’s back, Lillian.”

  “I didn’t take the dog food,” Rayne says.

  “You got back in the car because you didn’t take the food for Shadow?” Audrey asks.

  “Partly, and partly because my guitar was getting destroyed in the rain.”

  I laugh. “You are so full of shit!”

  Rayne actually smiles. “Okay, maybe you’re right. I couldn’t stop thinking that my grandma would kick my ass if she knew I’d abandoned you, too.”

  “Woohoo! Thank you, Grandma,” I say.

  He pours some dog food into a bowl and places it on the floor of the back seat. He pulls back out onto the highway. The sun is shining now and the rock that stretches straight up on both sides of the road glitters like broken crystal. Each time there is a place where a level bit of rock juts out, there are figures made of stones piled on top of each other, balancing there like dancers.

  “I always wonder who stops the car and climbs out on the rock face to build those things,” Rayne says. “I read that officials have to go around dismantling the ones constructed by hikers because people confuse them with the landmark inukshuks that are there to mark the trails.”

  Audrey looks at him in awe. “Is that true? I’ve never even heard the word inukshuk until now, let alone seen one. You’re very intelligent.”

  “Right. I’ve already said I’m coming along for now. No need to flatter me.”

  What are they talking about? Nut ships? I haven’t noticed any ships along the road.

  “Did you buy food while I was gone?” Rayne asks.

  There is just one bag of chips on the seat beside me. “Could you stop and get something in the next town?” I ask.

  We wait in the car while Rayne makes a quick stop and returns with two grocery bags filled with food. Back on the road, he dips one hand into the plastic bag beside him, his other hand gripping the steering wheel. He pulls out three small paper bags and hands one to each of us. Inside, there is a sandwich, neatly wrapped in clear plastic, two cookies, and an apple. “Lunch from the deli,” he says, “and for dessert we have chips.”

  Signs point to villages and towns hidden down isolated roads. Shadow sits beside me, drooling and swallowing whole the scraps of meat and cookie I share with her.

  “We should have a dog at home,” I say, “for company. It would do those old folks good to have something else to think about besides themselves, don’t you think, Fraise?”

  She nods. “And the kids there too, sitting around watching TV all day. They should be out playing and walking a dog.”

  “Who’s Fraise?” Rayne asks.

  I lean forward for emphasis. “Fraise—you know—my aunt. She’s sitting right beside you.”

  He drives on without comment.

  “Tom, how can you pretend not to know Fraise? She’s your great-aunt. You’ve met her many times, and Dess too. I’m very close to my mother’s sisters. They’re really more like my sisters than aunts. Why are you acting like you don’t know her?”

  Fraise doesn’t seem to mind. “These sandwiches are great. Can I have some chips please?”

  “They try to poison us with the food at The Home. It has a funny taste,” I say. “Actually, it doesn’t have any flavor at all, but that’s the thing about poison. It can do that. It can tast
e invisible.”

  I tap Fraise on the shoulder. “Do you remember the dish you used to make that was like shepherd’s pie with hamburger and vegetables and potatoes, and then you’d crunch chips on top? That was great. Maybe you could make that again when we get back home.”

  “I don’t remember,” she says. “Terry wouldn’t like that. He hates shepherd’s pie.”

  Rayne tries the radio and finds a station that plays music.

  “I have to go pee,” Audrey says as we pass a picnic rest stop area.

  “Why didn’t you say so when you saw the signs that said rest stop ahead?” Rayne asks.

  “I didn’t see them.”

  “Can you wait? There’ll probably be another stop in a half hour or so.”

  “No, I have to go now,” Audrey says.

  “Me too,” I say.

  Rayne slows and pulls to a stop on the side of the highway. “I’m gonna have to wait until there’s nothing coming behind us and back up,” he explains.

  “Just let us out here. We’ll go in the long grass,” I say.

  “No. You’re not doing that. Stay in the car.”

  “I’ve done it plenty of times, don’t worry about me.”

  “Do not open the door,” Rayne orders. “I’m putting it in reverse.” He swings his right arm over the back of the seat and turns to look out the rear window; drives slowly along the shoulder of the road.

  Very impressive. “Good job.”

  “Nice driving.”

  “Be careful.”

  Before going into the concrete building that holds the washrooms, Audrey opens the trunk of the car. She rifles through her shopping bag and pulls out two of the adult-sized diapers, tucks them under her arm and makes her way to the washroom.

  Inside her cubicle, Audrey shoves one of the diapers to me under the divider. “This will solve our problem of having to stop when it’s not convenient,” she says.

  “You’re a genius,” I say. “Where did you get these?”

  We emerge from the building. “We’re ready if you are,” Audrey calls to Rayne, who joins us and corrals Shadow into the back seat.

  “We shouldn’t need to stop again for awhile,” Audrey says, a proud look spreading across her face.

  “Please don’t explain,” Rayne interrupts. “I don’t need to know everything.”

  9

  Geraldton. Beardmore. The signs whiz by.

  “My hip is really aching,” Audrey says. “Can we stop here?”

  “We’re gonna drive a bit longer if we can, maybe to Nipigon or even Thunder Bay,” Rayne says. “The farther we go, the better chance we have of making it out of Ontario without getting caught.”

  “Can we get out and stretch our legs?”

  “Soon.”

  Stands of evergreens blur as we pass along the highway. Rayne slows and turns onto a secondary road cut through black-green rock that soars taller than a four-story building. “This leads into a national park,” he says. “We’ll just go down here and get out for a stretch. I’m sure Shadow could use a run.”

  We pull over by a small lake. A blue heron in the shallows watches our arrival until Shadow jumps from the car. The bird takes flight in slow motion; four steps on spindly legs, then the spread of long, bony wings. It’s like watching a giraffe try to fly.

  At the water’s edge, Audrey’s cane sinks deep into the black sand, making it hard for her to balance. I hold her hand.

  Shadow darts back and forth like the silver ball inside the pinball machines my brothers used to play at the arcade. She sniffs the air and the ground and runs into the lake, lapping up water. Rayne picks up a stick and periodically tosses it ahead. A cool breeze off the lake whiffs over our skin and up the hill on the opposite side of the road. The rocky cliff, covered with trees, slopes gradually toward the peak.

  Rayne draws the stick back behind his head. Shadow follows the movement, concentrating deeply, waits until it is airborne, then turns and takes off. Sand sprays up from her hind feet as she dashes forward. She reaches the stick just as it lands, but she doesn’t pick it up. A sudden movement catches her attention. A giant rabbit leaps up and hurtles forward through the trees, back and forth, left and right. Shadow takes up the chase and disappears into the woods.

  Rayne runs after her. “Shadow. Shadow! Shadow, come here.” He crosses the road and into the trees, following Shadow’s path until he too, disappears.

  We watch for a long time, then find a smooth, worn driftwood log halfway up the beach and lean against it.

  “What should we do?” Audrey asks.

  “Wait. What else is there to do? We need to wait.”

  Audrey leans her cane against the wood and wiggles around until she’s as comfortable as possible on this hard chunk of dried wood. “We’re having fun, aren’t we? I’m glad we came.” She smiles and grips my hand again in hers.

  I squeeze gently. “It sure beats playing bingo, doesn’t it?”

  Over the water the sun is low, turning the sky ballerina shades of pink and purple. “‘Red sky at night, sailors’ delight,’ my dad used to say.”

  “Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning.” Audrey finishes the rhyme.

  “I have one,” I say. “Dog chases rabbit, terrible habit.”

  Audrey adds her own. “Rayne chases dog, we sit on a log.”

  Water slaps quietly onto the shore. After what seems like an eternity, Rayne emerges from the woods farther down the road. He strolls toward us, scanning the trees. As he gets closer, I see his worried expression.

  “She didn’t come back while I was gone?” he asks.

  “No, we haven’t seen her.”

  “I can’t believe she ran off like that. I couldn’t see any sign of her in there.” He paces back and forth, keeping his eyes on the tree line. “Those woods are thick, and I’ve called her until my throat’s raw. I went in as far as I could. There’s no path. We’ll have to wait here and hope she comes back before dark.” He calls Shadow’s name again.

  The daylight changes to a softer shade of blue-gray. The breeze that cooled us earlier has died away, leaving stillness except for the buzz of mosquitoes.

  “Rayne,” I say, “These bugs are driving me crazy. Can we go?”

  He looks helpless, like a small boy who has to choose between one friend and another. “I can’t leave. What if Shadow comes back and we’re not here?”

  “Oh yeah. I’m sorry,” I say. “Do we have any food?”

  He moves the car off the side of the road onto the beach to a spot where a stand of trees and long grass hides it from passersby. He returns with a blanket and apples and cookies and chips that we didn’t finish at lunch and lays the blanket in front of the log. We eat the leftovers and watch the sun disappear. In the dark there are no mosquitoes.

  “This is kind of fun,” Audrey says. “Do you want to stay here all night and wait for Shadow?”

  “Yeah. We’ll camp out under the stars,” I say. “I think I’m here for good now anyway. I’ll never get up off the ground without a crane to help me up.”

  Rayne still looks worried. “I’ll take you into the nearest town and find a hotel and then come back out here myself.”

  “No, I want to stay.”

  “Me too,” Audrey says. She leans over and whispers, “I’m glad we have the Depends.”

  Rayne stands. “I’m gonna check the glove compartment for a flashlight and have one more quick look for Shadow.”

  We watch the beam of light move across the road and into the trees. It bounces off trunks and leaves, accompanied by the voice shouting for Shadow in the blackness. The beam eventually changes direction and returns to the beach, focused in an ellipse on the sand. Darkness surrounds us except for that patch of light and the reflection of the moon off the water.r />
  “She’s gone,” Rayne says. His face in the pale glow looks as if it will dissolve like melting snow.

  “Let’s start a fire,” I say, desperate to make it better. “Maybe she’ll see it and come back.”

  Rayne slumps down and lights a cigarette. The scent drifts up around us.

  “Can I have some of that?” I ask.

  “Not a good idea,” he says, inhaling deeply and holding his breath.

  “I know it’s pot. I want to try it.”

  “You ever smoked a joint?” he asks.

  “No, but I used to smoke Export Plain when I was younger. No filter. It can’t be much worse than that.”

  He hands it to me. I inhale. There is a horrible scorching in my throat, like sandpaper on fire. I cough violently, smoke wafts into my nose and blasts out of my mouth. When I look up with tears streaming down my cheeks, Rayne and Audrey are staring at me.

  Embarrassed, I take another drag, hoping this time it will be better. It burns just as much, but I manage to inhale some of the smoke into my lungs. I can barely see through the tears as I pass the joint to Audrey.

  She pushes it away.

  Rayne takes a few more puffs and offers it back to me. When it is gone, I turn my head a little too quickly, and it’s like someone has spun me around by the arms like we used to do when we were children. I’m dizzy and giddy.

  I try to get up but can’t. It’s not because of the pain in my back. That’s gone. It’s because my legs and arms are boiled spaghetti, all wobbly and loose.

  “Oops, I nearly fell over.” I push myself back up to a sitting position. “Wow, it’s like that in-between place when I’m just about asleep, like I’m floating.”

  Rayne looks around. “I like your idea of having a fire.”

  “We’d better not,” Audrey says. “Not now. You two

  are loopy.”

  Rayne piles some rocks and stones in a large ring, digs some into the sand and stacks others on top. Maybe he’s building a house. I hope we don’t have to go inside. He gathers undergrowth and dead wood from the edge of the forest, pulls it inside the little wall, and lights it. He pushes the driftwood log nearer the fire, away from the smoke. How he can do all that physical work when I can barely move my arms is amazing to me.