Bishop's Road (25 page)
Crazy Rachel is staring at Ginny Mustard's hands. Burning holes in them all the way to the belly she tries to protect. All the way to the baby floating, floating. Sweet Polly tries to escape the heat. Thinks cold as hard as she can. Makes her mother hum a song of wind and icy water. Sleeps.
Judy sits on the stone wall in front of the old orphanage and stares at the house. Smokes a little pot. Her life has been noisy since day one and the quiet is about to drive her right around the bend. She went to her parents' house the other day but couldn't even get a decent fight started. Her father is in jail again. Her brothers are at home. The oldest is medicated to the eyeballs and lies in bed all day and the others are selling crack from the basement, a relatively silent enterprise with their customers coming and going through the back door, shoes off so mom won't hear. Not much chance of that. She starts the day with rum in her coffee and doesn't stop drinking until she passes out right around supper time.
Judy hasn't seen Ruth since they all moved out of Mrs. Miflin's house. She hasn't heard tell of Dorrie since Christmas day. She has given up shovelling the snow off Eve's grave. And now Maggie has left her and there's no one but Joe Snake. Patrick checking once in a while to see if she's keeping her nose clean. And he doesn't even bother to come round. Just telephones. Well screw the lot of them. She jumps from her perch on the wall and
walks to Ginny Mustard's house. Packs a bag of clothes. Searches Joe Snake's desk until she finds his cheque book. Takes the bottom one and heads to Water Street. At the automatic teller she fills it out, giving herself $1,000. Signs Joe Snake's name and deposits the cheque to her own account. Withdraws everything. It takes two transactions because you can only have $500 each time and the fellow waiting is getting irritated. She tells him to piss off - who the hell does he think he is looking at his watch and making impatient sounds. Strolls to a taxi stand and hires a limo to the air-port where she buys a one-way ticket to Vancouver, as far as you can go in this country before falling off the edge.
She watches the lights of the city disappear into nothing and curses the place with such venom that she brews an ice storm to keep it immobilized for a week with power lines down and a state of emergency the likes of which no one can recall except for a few really old people and they might be making it up. Shows the flight attendant her fake ID and drinks scotch to the end of the line.
Mrs. Miflin wants to go home now. She's had enough of this place with these nurse types smiling ear to ear and asking, “How are we today?” all the time. Holding out their little pills like an offering at some altar. That young pipsqueak of a doctor has been telling her that if she keeps improving the way she has she will be out in no time. Back with her loved ones. She made up a crowd of them just for him. He seemed to need them. Isn't the kind to let her go until he knows she'll have support. So there's Florence, her sister, and Melvin, her nephew, and Malcolm, her dear husband who misses her so much and the only reason they don't come around is they can't bear to see her like this. And Dr. Pipsqueak buys every word of it because he only understands half
of what she says - being from away - and won't admit it.
She weaves her web. Works the tangles out. By the time the release forms are signed she has concocted a new life for her-self and the only task remaining is to get on over to Bishop's Road and take her house back from whoever the hell is in it now.
Dorrie wants her own shop. She has found the perfect place, cashed her RRSPs and discussed her ideas with the small group of Barbie fanatics she met through her work in the toy department at Zellers. Once a week they gather in Dorrie's apartment. She makes tea and pretty cakes and they talk about their dolls. Take turns with show and tell. Jaime Cochrane read the dissertation she presented at the university on the positive aspects of Barbie the night she was ousted from the Women's Studies Program. “Not a minute too soon,” she said. “If I had to sit in one more talking circle and listen to the crap they spout I'd be pulling my hair out for sure. I think I'll go into engineering.”
Kate Morrison, who has a flair for words, is writing advertisements and designing posters to entice the other Barbie women out of the closet. Dorrie has fabric enough for a thousand little dresses and order forms for all the accessories they will ever need. It's just a matter of signing the lease and decorating the shop and planning the grand opening.
When Judy lands in Vancouver she is tired and still a little drunk. She takes the bus downtown and wanders aimlessly for awhile until she happens upon a youth hostel that appears half
decent and has finished signing in when she realizes the place has a curfew. Demands her money back. “I can get this shit at home.” And leaves. Finds a nasty little room with holes in the sheets and stains on the ceilings. Rusty water in the toilet and no sign that anyone cares what she does. Unpacks her bag and takes a nap. Time enough for adventure when she's rested.
Joe Snake tried to call Patrick as soon as he realized he wasn't going to find Judy but by then her ice storm was in full swing and the phone lines were down. There's no going out in weather like this so he stays inside by the fireplace. Burns old newspapers and cardboard boxes to keep warm after he uses up all the wood when the electricity dies. Wraps himself in blankets and reads his books by flashlight. Listens to tree branches crack and break in the frozen wind.
It takes Judy a full nine hours of sleep to feel fit to venture out into the world. It takes another two minutes to get her-self in trouble. She can't help it. When she sees the guy with two little kids on the street and he yelling and calling them stupid fucking idiots and he's going to pound them as soon as he gets them home if they don't stop crying right now, she goes aboard of him. And when he doesn't back down it takes two policemen to keep her from doing to him what he plans to do to the poor little kids. And when she calls him a dirty black bastard everyone decides she is a racist and it looks like game over for Judy because you can still say what you want to a youngster but God forbid you should mention the shade of an adult's skin. When they finally stuff her into a squad car and take her to the station they figure, and rightly, that she is a runaway and from the accent on her they are able to pinpoint the place she has run away from. With technology being what it is these days her description and details of her most recent crime might have reached Patrick in no time. With nature being what she's always been it will take a week or more.
Joe Snake is the saddest man alive. He studies more than he needs to and has time on his hands. He has painted every room in the house. Stripped and refmished the floors. Read all the baby books. He moves furniture and takes pictures of the living room every which way so Ginny Mustard can tell him what setting she likes best. He plans a garden. Stares at the back yard from the kitchen window. Climbs over banks of ice. Measures every inch. Goes to the seed store and finds there's nothing on the shelves but last year's stock and the sales lady tells him he wants to wait a few weeks; she can't guarantee a decent germination rate on the old stuff. She talks him into buying grow lights and heating cables but they won't be any good to him until the new seeds arrive. She sells him books about gardening. There's no one else in the store and he stays for three hours. They have coffee arid when she's told him all she knows about flowers and trees they talk about weather.
Home is dark and cold. He turns the heat low whenever he leaves to have something to look forward to on return. Waits a long time for warmth. When he wants a cigarette he holds out until he can't stand it any more before lighting up. Same with coffee. Food. The suffering makes every ordinary act a gift. Every puff of smoke. Every sip. Every taste an answer to a prayer. The little cats are sleeping in the bathtub with their momma and he takes them out of it gently. Places them in a heap on his bed. His bed. His and Ginny Mustard's bed. Runs hot water and slides under to thaw his thin body.
