Hell's Hotel (13 page)

Whatever Happens

Tara's father tried not to look surprised when he saw Tara arrive home with three house guests instead of one.

“Anybody hungry?” he asked.

Craig and Courtenay acted truly uncomfortable at first, but once they ate, everyone seemed to mellow.

In the morning both Craig and Courtenay said they had to leave.

“I really like it here,” Craig said. “But it's not me, you know. Not all of us can just live inside other people's homes. It's nothing personal. We really need something of our own. I'm gonna try to convince them of that at city hall.”

“You're welcome back here if you ever need a place to stay,” Tara said, probably overstepping her bounds, but her father didn't try to say otherwise.

After they left, Tara asked Jenn, “What about you? I'd really like you to stay.”

“I'm confused,” Jenn said. Tara wanted to state the obvious: Jenn, you are often confused. “If it's okay, I am gonna stay for a while. Then decide. There are other kids still downtown. And there's going to be more. I think I'm a little like Craig. For him, the street is like a job, an important one. A new kid shows up and he tries to make sure the new kid doesn't get messed up. I feel that we need to stick together. It's like this: down there is the only place where I've ever really felt wanted. No, that's not exactly true. It's the only place I've ever felt needed. Do you know what that feels like?”

“Yeah,” Tara said, “I think I do. And I know that I'm different. I'm not part of that world. But I'm still part of your world, right?”

“Right.”

“So then we both learn to adapt. Whatever happens.”

“Whatever happens.”

***

At school, Josh came charging up to Tara. He didn't exactly look happy to see her. “You know what those creeps did?”

“What creeps?” Tara asked.

“Those two losers who stayed at my house. Those guys that we were trying to help.”

“Ben and Whatsisname. Yeah. How did it go?”

“They devoured the kitchen, then talked to my parents in all kinds of indecent language. Then in the morning, they were gone and guess what?”

“What?”

“They ripped off my iPod, my laptop, and my phone.”

Tara could see what Josh was saying.
This is all your fault
. And maybe she should have felt sorry for him. But she was rather enjoying seeing Josh so flipped out. “Not everybody who lives on the street is a saint,” she said without an ounce of sympathy in her voice.

“I don't believe those jerks. You show a little generosity and the first thing they do is rob you. Forget trying to be nice to people.”

Tara knew this other side of Josh. Josh who was used to always getting his way, winning his battles, Josh who only ever had good things happen to him. In some ways, Josh reminded her of herself a little while back. “Josh, don't be so naive. Those guys shouldn't have taken your stuff. Hey, you can call the cops, or better yet, call the insurance company. They probably are a couple of not-so-nice guys, but it doesn't mean all the kids on the street are that way. Besides, what was it you said in your paper.
We are responsible for their condition?
Something like that. So I wouldn't take it personally.”

Josh shook his head. “Man, you just don't get it. It's wrong for somebody to rip you off when you're trying to help.”

“Yeah, it is wrong. But there are a lot of worse things.”

“Easy for you to say.”

***

Nothing much had changed at school. It would be a struggle to catch up in her subjects, but Tara's teachers were understanding. Mr. Henley suggested she may have to make up some work in the summer, but Tara knew she could probably pull things back together before that. After a few days, Jenn had moved out and was back to life on the street. Some nights she would stay at Phoenix House, once in a while she'd go home with Tara. Other times it was an empty warehouse that Craig had found down by the waterfront. But she had dropped back into school full-time. Afternoons were spent studying with Tara at the Trident Café or The Daily Grind or sometimes just hanging around the public library on Spring Garden Road.

They were walking out of the library one day when Rob showed up. He looked at Jenn and just shook his head.

“What were you doing in there?” he asked sarcastically.

“Nothing much,” Jenn said.

Rob looked at the books they were carrying, then at Tara. “What's the point?” Rob asked.

Tara started to say something, something about Rob that would have been less than complimentary, something in language she saved only for those moments when she was faced with the lowest of the low. But Jenn stopped her.

“The point is I'm back in school. The point is I don't need you, don't want you and would prefer to see squirming maggots in my food rather than have to look at you.”

Rob pretended he didn't hear it. Instead, he tried to turn on the charm. “Hey, whatever I did to make you mad, I'm sorry. I just thought you should know I was back. I wanted to see you. Maybe you can come over.”

“Maybe not,” Tara snapped and started to pull Jenn away. But Jenn yanked herself free.

“I thought you were gone for good. What happened to Toronto?”

Rob shrugged. “Wasn't as much fun as I expected.”

“Now what?”

“Well, you know, I'm back. I thought maybe we could pick up where we left off.”

“I don't think I got the time. School and stuff, ya know?”

Tara wanted to shred the guy, tell him what she really felt about him, but she held back.

“School?” Rob scoffed. “You're no good at that stuff. They don't want you in that place. They'll string you along for a while, but wait and see, they're not gonna let you graduate. It's fixed. You don't have that kind of smarts up here.” He pointed to her head, but it wasn't just pointing; he tapped her with his finger and held it there like he was drilling into her skull.

Jenn didn't pull away. Rob had her locked in with his stare. “You know that it's not gonna work out. You're just not cut out for all that school bullshit. You're not that smart. But, hey, I never cared about that. I was there, wasn't I? I took care of you. Didn't matter to me if you didn't have brains. I realize I made a mistake. I shouldn't have split. C'mon back. I got a new place. Nicer than the last one.”

It was a test. And a big one. Jenn looked at her books, back at Tara, then at Rob who had suddenly put on a very convincing puppy-dog face. Jenn was still fixed in his stare, like he was wielding some power over her. He tried to drive home his point, speaking close to her in a whisper so Tara couldn't hear. “You're not like her,” he said, motioning towards Tara. “She's got everything. You've got nothing. Forget about school. Come back with me. It'll be just like before. Only better.”

Tara wanted to jump between them, grab onto Jenn and just get her away from there. This was all wrong. Rob sounded too convincing. In the old days, this was the sort of scene where Tara would have to step in and take over. It would have been the only way to avert disaster. She reached out to grab onto Jenn's arm but then she stopped.

“Rob,” Jenn said. “I got to tell ya. I have a pretty busy schedule. I don't know if I could fit you into my life. School's not so bad. Studying sucks, but it's better than having to watch your crappy TV shows and listen to your crappy music at two in the morning. And, like, even now, I'd like to hang around and rehash old times, but I have this meeting with the mayor in about forty-five minutes.”

“The mayor?” Rob asked.

But Jenn was already walking away, with Tara trying to catch up.

Strong and Independent

Tara decided to write a long letter of apology to Mrs. Klein. She really wanted her old job back. She missed talking to the clients, and her life had changed in such a big way that she wanted to try to fill in some of the gaps. Working at the nursing home again would be good for her. And she wouldn't screw up a second time.

Strangely enough, Mrs. Klein gave her a warm reception. Tara figured that her old boss must have talked with the nurses who knew Tara at work and she was convinced that Tara had been good for the place, except for the one mistake that got her fired. Tara would be given a second chance.

“You're no longer part of the janitorial staff, though,” Mrs. Klein told her. “We want to see if you can handle working as a social assistant. We want you to spend more time with the clients here. Talk to them. Plan something for each of them to do. Be inventive and use your imagination.”

Tara could hardly believe what she was hearing.

“I don't have to do any cleaning?”

“None.”

“Changing sheets or any of that?”

“Not necessary. We want you to spend time with the patients. Just like you did with Emma when you should have been cleaning.”

Tara felt a little guilty. Mrs. Klein obviously knew she had spent plenty of time slacking off. “I guess I always thought that relating with the people was more important than cleaning.”

“Apparently so did your friend, Emma.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the truth is we're not exactly hiring you back out of the goodness of our hearts. It seems that Emma left a certain amount of money to the nursing home in her will. It was earmarked for one purpose only — to hire you and one other person of your choosing to spend time “just socializing”, as she put it, with those living here. Emma was convinced it improves the health and the mind of all concerned.”

Mrs. Klein had returned to her old formal self. “I'm not exactly sure what we're going to do about the second party who is to be hired. We must be very careful about these things, you know. The wrong person could cause more harm than good.”

Tara knew exactly what Mrs. Klein was thinking. It was going to be a very tough sell.

“So the other person can be of my choosing, is that what Emma said?”

“Yes. But how can we know you'll choose wisely? We really should consider all those other applications for work we have on hand. We must be fair to them. There are dozens of young men and women who have applied for part-time work.”

“I agree,” Tara said. “But I know the best candidate for the job. She has her application on file with you. Jenn O'Brien.”

Mrs. Klein had clearly seen this coming. “I don't think we could bend that far. I just don't think we should do it.”

“You don't know Jenn. She's had a hard time but she's completely changed. You have people in here who have experienced very difficult lives, some who are now living with pain. Jenn can understand what those people feel better than you or I can. And she's become serious about herself and about school and, well, she's involved in community work.”

“What sort of community work?”

“She works on a committee with the mayor and several city aldermen.”

“I find that a little far-fetched.”

“Check it out for yourself. Call city hall.”

***

At school, Mr. Henley finally figured out a good reason to have Josh resign as president of student council. Josh had pushed the “no grades” issue too far and, in the end, he failed to get support from the student body. Everybody, according to Josh, was wimping out, “afraid they wouldn't get accepted into university if they didn't have letters and numbers on a stupid piece of paper.”

Josh still had a chip on his shoulder whenever he dealt with the downtown crowd after he had his video and audio gear stolen. Craig and the other kids had become a bit more cautious about getting involved with him. “I was beginning to feel a little exploited,” was the way Craig put it.

In fact, it seemed like Josh had completely fallen from his lofty heights of popularity. Carla had told him that she wanted someone who was a little more fun to be with. Josh was just back to being Josh: opinionated, smart, ambitious, and a little too likely to talk before he finished thinking. But he had lost the edge of confidence that had been his trademark. And, in his effort to get rid of grades forever at Citadel, his own grades had been slipping down the toilet.

Tara felt sorry for him. She decided she still liked the guy, despite his faults. “I want us to do a new edition of
The Rage
,” she said.

Josh had let the paper slide. He hadn't kept his promise to do one a month. “I don't know. I just don't know. I'm not sure anybody cares anymore. All it would bring me is more grief.”

“When did you ever back down for that reason?”

“I don't know. It just wouldn't be the same.”

“No it wouldn't. This time, I'd be involved. You never did let me write for your paper the way you promised.”

“Well, you know. Things got complicated.”

“Yeah. Everything with you is always complicated. But I want us to do this paper together. I'll help you sell advertising space to some of the music stores, skateboard shops, and cafés.”

“You'd do that for me?” Josh seemed astonished. Selling advertising was the true dirty work, the work that brought in enough cash to pay the printing bill.

“Yeah, I'll do it. Because you're going to let me write the lead story.”

“Sounds like you want to take over.”

“No. I want us to work together. A truly alternative newspaper is an excellent idea. The truth is I didn't really have anything to write about before. Now I do.”

“What are you gonna write about?”

“I'm gonna call it ‘Tara's Blues.'”

***

And so Tara wrote her story. She decided it might help people understand a lot of things: the way you feel when your parents break up, what it's like to be alone, a new kid in a big city, and even what it was like to spend a night in Hell's Hotel. A lot of kids in school thought Tara had always been someone who had it made, somebody who never fell on her face. Now they'd know there was no such thing. Everybody has complicated, difficult lives. “Tara's Blues” would testify to that.

The story included some honest language. Tara knew she had to make it real, quote the kids who she knew from the street, use the language of the characters she had met in Vancouver.

Josh loved the piece. It was too long, too rough, but he printed the whole thing. He included an article about his own failed attempt to get rid of grades. And he included a story about how the city still hassled skateboarders. Craig and Jenn co-wrote a final piece about what was being discussed as an alternative for kids on the street.

The mayor's committee wasn't exactly going smoothly. There were snags. What seemed practical and logical to the city officials sounded unreasonable to kids living on the street who were used to their freedom. Like everything else, it was a complicated issue with no easy solutions. But people were talking. And the city council was beginning to realize how important it was to have people like Craig and Jenn in constant communication with them. The wheels turned slowly, but wheels were turning.

***

The next day Josh and Tara were sitting in Mr. Henley's office. “I thought we've been all through this language business, before, Josh. I warned you that you can't go distributing anything with that kind of foul language, those offensive words, in this school.”

“I remember that,” Josh said. “And as you probably know, we did not distribute the paper in the school. I abided by your rules.”

Mr. Henley looked a little flustered. “But you, Tara, you used to be such a sensible girl. I don't know how you could have written this, this exposé of yourself. And I suppose you're the one whom I should hold responsible for the reprehensible language. I'm seriously considering having you both suspended.”

Josh was quick to the defence. “That would be outrageous. Go ahead, suspend me, it's my paper, but you can't suspend Tara. She has one of the highest grade point averages in the school. If you want to punish anyone, punish me. Not her. All she did was have the guts to tell the truth.”

Josh was right. Henley had to know this. He could suspend Josh. Everybody knew he was a troublemaker. Suspension meant nothing to Josh. He always bounced back. Somehow he'd end up using the suspension to his advantage, probably use the time to crank out another edition of
The Rage
. But Tara was another story. And Tara knew that Henley knew he would get flak if she was suspended. She had always been one of the best students at Citadel.

“I'll accept full responsibility for my actions,” Tara said.

“Somehow I knew you were going to say something like that,” Henley sighed. Sure, he had succeeded in getting Josh kicked off of student council but that was because Josh did it to himself. He didn't know when to shut up. He criticised too many of his fellow students until he lost all allies. But now this paper thing kept coming back to haunt Henley. Josh had been true to his word. The paper was distributed on the sidewalk across from the school but not in school. Not a big difference, but at least there was a thin line of discipline here. And at least the current issue had not mentioned the VP. Henley threw his hands up in the air. “Both of you, get out of my office. I'm going to have to admit that maybe you didn't really step over the line this time. You came close. But if you keep it outside of school, I have no jurisdiction. I just have one bit of advice.”

“What's that?” Josh asked.

“You're just kids. Why don't you relax? Have some fun. Don't take everything so bloody seriously. We'd all get along a lot better.”

“We'll take that into consideration,” Tara said as they left.

Outside after school, Josh seemed pretty proud of the way things had gone. “I wasn't going to let you take the rap,” he said. Josh was back into his cool, big-man role.

“I appreciate that,” Tara said.

“You know I think we work really well together.”

Tara could see where this was going. “On some things.”

“I was wondering if maybe I could come over to your place tonight, watch a movie maybe.”

Tara smiled, remembering the time she and Josh had spent together, back when they were more than just friends. She didn't quite know how to say it to him, but she wasn't interested in that now. “I don't think so. I don't know. I'm still trying to put the pieces of my life back together.”

“Oh,” he said. Josh looked hurt. Tara knew that he had a hard time when anyone turned him down and he had just been put in his place.

“But let's talk tomorrow at lunch about the next issue of
The Rage
,” she said.

Josh shuffled his feet and watched her walk away, his ego more than a little damaged again.

***

An hour later at The Daily Grind, Jenn was waiting for her as planned. Tara had been holding back the news about the job. Jenn had been interviewed and then Mrs. Klein had come up with all kinds of excuses why she shouldn't hire Jenn. Tara had taken it upon herself to talk to Emma's son and find out exactly what had been in the will. Emma's son was not too happy about talking to her. After all, the money that was going towards the nursing home jobs was money that he felt was rightfully his. In the end, though, he showed Tara the will, and it was crystal clear. Tara would be responsible for choosing the second “social assistant.” She had informed Mrs. Klein, ever so politely, that she had no choice.

“You got the job,” Tara told Jenn as they sat down at the table.

Jenn jumped up, screeched, and gave Tara a hug. “I don't believe it!”

“Believe it,” Tara said. “But it's not exactly a career. Just a part-time job.”

“I promise I won't screw it up.”

“I know you won't. If you do, I'll kill you.”

They laughed and ordered. Tara was celebrating: New York cheesecake for both of them, and cappuccinos.

“You know you can still stay at my house for as long as you like. My father said it was okay.”

“I know, I know. But I can't depend on you for everything. I need my own life.”

“I've always known that. But you can't keep up with this street thing. That warehouse might be the next Hell's Hotel.”

“Well, the city hasn't quite figured out what to do with us. But I've been checking out group homes. They're all different. I think I found one I can handle, for a while anyway. Then maybe I can use the money from my job to split rent with some others for our own place. Something cheap but something decent.”

“That's better than life with Rob.”

“Rob had his good points.”

“Yeah, sure.”