April Raintree (17 page)

“Why? Because she's part-Indian?”

“No, Miss, but when she came in she was highly intoxicated. We thought she might have passed out in the cold.”

“What about the concussions you mentioned?” I demanded.

“It does appear she may have been beaten,” he admitted.

Satisfied, I nodded and stalked off towards Cheryl's room. Drinking problem! I was sure it was implied because she was part-Indian. I entered the room and Cheryl was at the far end. At first, I wasn't sure it was Cheryl. I mean, I knew it was Cheryl but it didn't look like Cheryl. Her beautiful, strong face was now puffy and bruised and her cheeks were hollow. She had lost so much weight. Under the fluorescent lights, her skin was yellowish. He arms, resting on the white covers, were thin. She really had lost too much weight. And aged! I stared. It had been two years since I had last seen her. Two years. It hadn't seemed that long. It looked to me as if Cheryl had been possessed. A cold chill ran down my back as I recalled the doctor's words, “…highly intoxicated”. Oh, God, please don't let her be an alcoholic.

I pulled a chair closer to her bed and sat down. Maybe Cheryl had some kind of disease and she hadn't wanted me to find out about it and that was why she had refused to come to Toronto or had put off my coming to Winnipeg. People did that. They would find out they had a terminal illness and they didn't want to tell anyone until the very end. Knowing Cheryl, that's the kind of thing she would do. She'd try to protect me from that kind of truth. Cheryl stirred and woke up briefly.

“Cheryl, it's me, April. Everything is all right. I love you, Cheryl.”

She gave my hand a squeeze and dozed off again. I left when the visiting hours were over and took a room in a hotel on Notre Dame, within easy walking distance of the hospital.

I returned the next day and found Cheryl fully awake. She didn't seem to want to talk about what had happened so I didn't push her for answers. I sat there for the longest time in silence. My mind was on what happened to her and everything else that could have been said was blanked out. It was Cheryl who started talking.

“I'm sorry your marriage didn't work out, April.”

“Well, I've been thinking that maybe it's for the best. Bob and I were never passionately in love or anything. And now I've gotten…well, used to the idea.” I was almost going to tell her I would be getting a very generous settlement but for some unknown reason I decided not to.

“Did you get a full-time job yet?” Cheryl asked.

“No, I decided to work for a temporary agency. I'm not at all sure what I want to do once the divorce goes through. I'm changing my name back to Raintree. I was thinking of returning to Winnipeg for good, though.”

Actually, the thought had just come to me. It looked like Cheryl could use any support I could give her by staying. If I missed Toronto, I could always go back once Cheryl got a job as a social worker. In June, she'd be finished university. It wouldn't be that long.

“Well, you're almost finished university, huh? And pretty soon, you're going to be a professional.” I emphasized the word, professional and smiled bet she didn't smile back.

“April, I quit university. I've got a lot more to tell you but let's not get into it now, okay? I'm tired.”

“Sure, okay, we'll talk about it, maybe tomorrow, if you feel like it.”

I was shocked by what I had just learned but I tried to cover it up. I left with a faked understanding smile on my face.

All the way back to the hotel, I thought about Cheryl quitting. Why did she quit? Had she failed or given up? All the letters she had sent me, they were all about her courses and her work at the Friendship Centre. Were they lies? No, she must have just quit recently. When I got to my hotel room, I took a bath, then got into bed with the television set turned on. But all I could think about was Cheryl. I speculated on different reasons why she may have quit and what other things she had or hadn't done, so that when she would tell me, I'd be at least partially prepared. Maybe I could talk her into going back to university. As long as she didn't tell me she was dying of some incurable disease, then I could accept anything. I turned the television off and got back into Bed. What if she were an alcoholic? How could I accept that? That was an incurable disease. And one was as good as dead if that were the case.

The next day as Cheryl and I talked, we both avoided the issue. Towards evening, I figured it might help if we discussed my marriage failure first.

Afterward, Cheryl said to me, “Well April, at least, you've experienced what you always longed for and now you know that it's not for you.”

“I know. I could almost treat the marriage as if it were one long holiday, especially since I didn't get all broken up about it. It's funny that I don't feel more pain. I really thought I loved Bob when I married him.”

“Well, everything happened so fast, you never really had time to find out for sure. And maybe you convinced yourself that you loved him.”

After she said this, Cheryl became thoughtful and I wondered if she had been similarly involved with a man.

“Cheryl, have you ever been in love?”

She looked at me and smiled. She didn't say anything for a few minutes and then she sighed and said, “I lived with a man. I thought too, in the beginning that I loved him. I know that I wanted him. Before I actually met him, there was this great physical attraction between us. So, we moved in together. His name's Mark DeSoto. I was living with him right up until I landed here. He doesn't even know where I am.”

“Do you want him to know where you are? Do you want me to tell him?” I asked.

“Oh, no, I should have left him a long time ago but I didn't. I should have.” she seemed to be talking more to herself. “Are you serious about staying Winnipeg? You're not going to stay here just on my account, are you?”

“Well, I haven't any close ties in Toronto. And this is my home town. If you wanted to come to Toronto then I would go back. But no, I'm not staying here on your account. I would like to be with you for awhile, though. Does that make sense?” I didn't know how to say I was staying because of her without telling her that.

Cheryl laughed and said she got the general idea. Since she was in a better mood, I figured it would be as good a time as any to bring up the past. “About those things you didn't want to discuss last night, you feel like talking about them now?”

“I was…I wanted to tell you that I've been living with a man who wasn't good for me.”

“Oh.”

“Well, what did you think I was going to tell you? That I was dying or something?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

Cheryl started to laugh and I sat there watching her closely, trying to determine whether she was being honest with me. When she realized I wasn't going to join in the laughing, she asked, “What's wrong?”

“It's the letters you've been sending me for the past two years. When did things begin to change? Why didn't you tell me the truth?” I tried to be tactful.

“Oh, the letters. Sorry about them. I just didn't want you to worry about me. You seemed happy enough out there.”

“But why did you quit university? How come?”

“It wasn't going very well,” Cheryl shrugged. “And the stuff I was doing at the Friendship Centre, well, I believed I was accomplishing something at first, but then a lot of girls we were trying to help just kept getting in trouble. In different ways it all boiled down to one thing: as a social worker I don't think I would have made the grade. So, I quit and got a job instead. That was two years ago. It's funny, you know, I was right about it not working out for you in Toronto and you were right when you said that the native people have to be willing to help themselves. It's like trying to swim against a strong current. It's impossible.”

“I thought if anyone could do it, you could.”

“You're disappointed that I've given up?”

“After all the griping I did against it, yeah. I suppose I am. There were so many days that I sat around the pool, listening to Mrs. Radcliff—Mother Radcliff is out, now—and her friends discuss their charities, or, we'd be at big fancy dinner gatherings and I'd listen to all those people talk about what was important to them, and I was out of it completely. Like nothing was important to me. Except you, of course, but you had your life. And I used to envy you for having something so meaningful in your life. I mean, I couldn't do it because I didn't believe it was possible—making a better way of life for native people, giving them a better image. So what kind of job did you get?”

Cheryl made a face and said, “Oh, it doesn't matter because I lost it. Mark and I used to party a lot and I started drinking a bit. Anyway, the day I got fired I had a big row with Mark and then I went out and got all tanked up. So that's how I ended up here. I feel so stupid.”

“Well, anyone who drinks goes overboard once in a while. I remember I got fuzzy once at a party and then Bob's mother poured a pot of coffee into me and…I bet she thought I was getting to be an alcoholic. Just because she knew I had Indian blood. When I think of it now, a lot of things make sense in the way Mrs. Radcliff treated me.”

Visiting hours ended then, so I had to say goodnight to Cheryl. On Tuesday morning, the doctor told Cheryl she would most likely be discharged on Wednesday. When she told me, I asked, “What are you planning to do when you get out?”

“You make it sound like I'm in jail or something. I don't know. I don't want to go back with Mark. I don't even want to go back there to get my things.”

“Are you scared or something?”

“Oh, no, it's not that. He might want me to stay and then there'd be a scene, maybe.”

“I could go and get your things for you. Just tell me the address and I could go tonight. Then you could come and stay at the hotel for now until you get a permanent place.”

“Are you sure you wouldn't mind? It's in a rather rundown section of the city.”

“If Mark is there, will he give me any problems?”

“No, just explain that I'm in the hospital and you're going to look after me for a while. He looks tough but he's okay. When he laid into me, he was drunk and I pretty well asked for it. Besides, I'm sure he'll be out. Oh, April..” Cheryl's face had a guilty look on it.

“What?”

“You know all the things you left me? Well, I sold them. I'm sorry.”

“That's okay, Cheryl. If you needed money, though, you should have asked me. I would have sent you some.”

“No, I couldn't do that. You see, I was kind of supporting Mark. He's out of a job. Anyway, it would have just gone to him.” Cheryl was looking down at her hands and nervously twisting her fingers together. “Two suitcases should do it. All I've got is clothing. Our room is right at the top of the stairs to the left. And there's two boxes under the bed with my papers and books in them. You can just take them.”

That night, I had supper before looking for the address on Elgin Avenue. I had a lot to digest about Cheryl's past. I had thought mine was full of turmoil and dark secrets. By the time I got to the address I was thinking of the future. With the money from Bob, I could buy a house in Winnipeg. Maybe we could even rent out some rooms and that way, we'd have an income every month. On second thought, Cheryl would probably insist we take in only native boarders. Besides, there were creepy stories about two sisters, renting out rooms and doing away their tenants. Heck, with the money I had now, I could buy two houses and rent one out. No, then I'd be responsible for the taxes and repairs and what if someone couldn't pay their rent? I'd end up letting people stay for free all the time.

I spotted a parking space not too far from the house. It was too bad I couldn't get a spot right in front of the house. I got out of the car and a cold gust of wind struck me. I shivered. The temperature seemed to have fallen. I looked around. Cheryl hadn't been kidding when she said it was in a rundown section. It was dark and downright spooky. I got to the gate and wondered why on earth they would have a gate that closed when most of the fence was down anyway. At the same time, I was wondering if Mark would be home. And what was he like? I had to take my glove off to fiddle with the latch.

Suddenly, a male voice close to me said, “Can I help you with that, baby?”

I jumped. Where had he come from, so suddenly? I looked up at him and he seemed to be leering at me. This couldn't be Mark. Maybe I should get back to the car.

Before I had a chance to move, an arm came from behind and grabbed me by the front of the neck. There were two men! I stepped back into the man as hard as I could, ramming my elbow into his side. He released his grip. The other man was now grinning.

“Oh, no, you're not going to get away from us.”

He grabbed my arm but I twisted loose and pushed against him. We were on a patch of ice and he slipped, lost his balance and fell backward, all the while swearing. This all happened in a couple of seconds and I was able to run back towards my car. I didn't know what their intentions were but it was my intention not to find out. I opened the car door and was about to jump in when one of them reached for me and got ahold of me. They were yelling to someone to bring the car up. Headlights were turned on and I saw the two men clearly. I struggled desperately to free myself. The other man who had fallen reached our side and when the car was beside us, he opened the door and shoved me in the back seat and got in beside me. The other one closed the door on the rented car and got in beside the driver.

Like a helpless animal, I was trapped and terrified. They meant to kill. I was sure of it. Otherwise, they would have disguised themselves or something. They whooped it up and congratulated each other on their ‘catch'. I figured if I was going to die, I was going to go down fighting. But then I thought I'd have a better chance if I watched for a police car. I watched for one at the same time as I kept an eye on the man beside me. They were crazy men and now they were probably aroused from chasing me. Crazy men with crazy grins. The one beside me put his hand on me. I hit it away. He hit back much harder as if he had a right to do whatever he pleased.