Liar (11 page)

China opened the front door and inhaled deeply. Grimshaw had a delicious damp smell of seaweed, sand and cedar and it was the best thing about living here. She listened and heard nothing. For a moment the world had stopped. No insect moved, no bird called, no tires swished on pavement. Then she heard a car start and her feet moved down the steps, aching for a walk to Chapters Bookstore.

The miserable little library in Grimace was not inviting and had nothing but smelly old books with old-fashioned covers, books that China had already read or didn’t care to read. The librarian was a plump, corseted, widow with a fussy, precise manner and a lisp that drove China nuts. The worst thing about the library was that it was open only three days a week for a few hours and those hours never coincided with China’s needs. Besides, it didn’t invite you in. It said, why bother?

She yearned for the beautiful ‘Chapters’ in downtown Toronto. She could have lived there. Gleaming hardwood floors, acres of books, couches, coffee. An oasis in the middle of an ugly, crowded, city street. If only she could have transported that store to Grimshaw with a view of the sea. Just the inviting look of Chapter’s with all those beautiful books whispering “read me,” would have turned all the residents of Grimshaw into sober scholars.

China remembered wandering the aisles and gazing with pleasure at the stationary, pens, agendas, and then discovering the leather bound journals. Oh my God, she could write in a leather bound journal with a gold lettered spine, My Journal, for thirty dollars. Thirty dollars! Oh well, maybe they were for very successful writers. She couldn’t presume to jot down her scribbles into such a magnificent receptacle. Besides it would be a sin to burn these beautiful books. What a disappointment it would be, after her death, for her daughter or grand-daughter to see a bookshelf full of these prettily bound journals and discover that they were full of garbage, whining, and misery.

China selected a dog-eared book by Tom Clancy because it was the only thing fit to read, and walked over to the post office, nodding to a few familiar faces on the way. She bumped into Karen Potter who seemed very pleased to see China.

“Hi China,” said Karen. “We missed you at the last meeting.”

“Well, when Sam’s home I tend to hibernate with him.”

“I don’t blame you,” said Karen with a grin.

“Do you have time for coffee?” asked China, looking dubiously at the smoke filled café across the street.

Karen followed her gaze and smiled. “Sure. Let’s go to my place. The coffee is much better, and there’s no smoke.”

They climbed into Karen’s old and cranky little Honda and drove along the beach road to her house. Most of the white people lived on the west side of the inlet where the seas were a bit rougher.

“To be honest, Karen, I was getting rather fed up with the nonsense. I thought it was a reading club.”

“Well, it was until those young hippies got us off track. We circulate better books than you’ll find at the library. It’s an unwritten law that when you go off-island, you must return with at least two new books to pass around.”

They pulled into Karen’s driveway and China’s eyes widened at the beauty of her garden. Few of the homes on the reserve had gardens. Front yards were generally filled with boats, fishing gear and trucks. Karen’s garden was artfully arranged with driftwood and herbs and flowers. Paths made of crushed shells meandered between neat flower beds.

“Oh, Karen,” exclaimed China, “this is gorgeous!”

“Thank you,” said Karen. “I spend much too much time in the garden and not enough time in my studio.”

China and Karen spent a couple of hours chattering like magpies and then Karen drove China home. China felt happier than she had in a long time. She had sorely needed a companion on the island who spoke her language. She had expected Sam’s family, his numerous cousins, to welcome her and include her as part of the family, to help her become acquainted with village customs and celebrations. Instead she had been included only when Sam was by her side, as though she didn’t exist when he wasn’t there. The only exception was Carrie and she was far too busy to pay much attention to China, who hadn’t yet learned the rules of friendship where aboriginals were concerned.

China waved goodbye to Karen, closed the door and opened the mail. The lovely morning with her new friend fell to pieces at her feet. She read a letter from Mastercard, canceling her account and went ballistic. Obviously Sam hadn’t been paying the bills. Lying again! Would it ever end, ever change? Sam didn’t record withdrawals and never remembered which bank account he withdrew from. Joint account or business account? He didn’t like to discuss money, didn’t want to tell China what his real income was. Of course it was a control issue, which China didn’t mind, if only he kept control, which he didn’t.

As always, when Sam was away, China became more and more frustrated when she couldn’t talk to him about all the things that troubled her. When Sam called she usually tried to be pleasant. She knew he was working hard and she tried to spare him her fears and unhappiness. She fretted and fumed and bellyached in her journal, which was somewhat of a release. However, it did nothing to solve the problems that, to China, had become major issues in their marriage.

June 14/97

What happened to the intimacy we first felt when we could read each other’s thoughts, when we breathed for each other?

China remembered the poem and went looking for it. She sometimes extracted her favourite poems from the journals and put them in a file. She and Sarah exchanged poetry and occasionally talked about publishing them. She flipped through the binder of her letters to Sarah but it wasn’t there, so she must have written it in Toronto, in those insane first weeks when she fell so deeply in love with Sam. She felt as though her life depended on finding that poem. Her poetry file wasn’t under the letter P in the filing cabinet. Had she mis-filed it? She searched frantically through all her files and finally found it in under W.
I filed it under W for what? Writing? Wanton? Worried? I’m losing it,
thought China. She flicked through the pages and found the poem.

Breathing

I breathe

with his breath

in my lungs

Feeding me,

I walk

with his stride

in my limbs

Pacing me,

I touch

with his fingers

curled in mine

Holding me,

I see nothing

but his eyes

I am blind

when he watches me

His blood

races in my veins

Exciting me

I dream

with his soul

clutching mine

He lives in me.

China closed the file and filed it carefully under P for poetry, and went back to writing sadly in her journal.

That’s how it was. Now we are out of step, speak different languages. I thought it would take years of mundane living to become intimate strangers.

~ ~

The next day the big cheque they’d been waiting for finally arrived. China was greatly relieved at the stay of execution and promptly deposited the ten thousand dollar cheque in Sam’s business account. She went home, paced the floor for about ten minutes and then made an executive decision. She took one of the signed cheques that Sam always left behind, made it out to herself to the tune of $4000.00, marched back to the bank, paid off the overdraft on their joint account and closed the account. She knew that Sam would be furious but she didn’t care. She prepared her argument carefully for Sam’s call.

“Hi,” said Sam.

“Hi, said China. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. Did the cheque arrive?”

“Yes, thank God.”

“Did you deposit it my business account?”

“Of course I did.”

“Okay. Take one of the signed cheques and withdraw enough to pay off all the bills. How much do you think you’ll need?” asked Sam generously.

“I already withdrew $4000.00. I paid off all the bills and I paid off the overdraft on our joint account and closed it,” said China firmly, holding her breath.

“What?”

“Didn’t you hear me?”

“Yes, I heard you, but I can’t believe you did that,” said Sam angrily.

“And I can’t believe that you haven’t paid the Mastercard bills,” replied China in her best schoolmarm voice.

“What do you mean?” evaded Sam, using his favourite question for gaining valuable making-up-excuses time.

“I mean, they cancelled the card due to non-payment of bills.”

“Christ! It’s probably because Larry has been running up the Internet account yakking to friends all over the world,” said Sam creatively.

“What has Larry got to do with my Mastercard?”

“I’ll tell you later. Right now, I want to know why you canceled our overdraft without telling me,” hollered Sam, using the attack to distract strategy.

“We discussed it.”

“Yes, and I told you it was a stupid idea.”

“Sam, I don’t know why you think getting rid of a debt is a stupid idea. We’ve been carrying that overdraft for too long. You have one on your business account and that’s enough,” said China sensibly.

“How could you close our joint account without my permission?”

Oh dear,
thought China gleefully,
he’s getting hysterical.

“Hello Sam! It’s a joint account,” she carefully explained to her demented husband. “Since you deemed it unnecessary to tell me when you took money out, or wrote a cheque, therefore embarrassing me several times, I decided it wasn’t necessary to ask your permission to pay the account off and close it. I thought you’d be thrilled to be rid of one of our debts.”

Sam was silent and China sailed blithely on.

“And there’s a plus side to this arrangement,” continued China in a chirpy voice. “I no longer have to yell at you when you don’t record a transaction. Now, one of us will be keeping accurate records at all times. I have my savings account, you have your business account, and never the twain shall meet. Don’t you think that’s a much better arrangement? It’ll certainly save us a lot of arguments.”

Sam was still silent. China knew that he was absolutely furious and she was utterly delighted.

“Hello? Sam, are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I can’t believe you did that. I’ll talk to the Bank Manager when I get home. Maybe I can open another account and reinstate the overdraft. I don’t see how they could have done that without my signature.”

“Well, you take it up with the Bank Manager, dear. I’m just happy that one more burden is off our shoulders.”

“You won’t be happy when we need that money to eat.”

“Sam, the overdraft wasn’t our money,” said China wearily. She was getting tired of the ridiculous argument.

“We’ll discuss this when I get home,” said Sam gloomily.

“Okay. Good night, darling,” said China mustering a morsel of goodbye cheer.

“Bye,” replied Sam in a funereal voice.

China hung up feeling a strange amalgam of satisfaction, relief, and fear. Sam acted as though China was there to do his bidding in everything. How could he be so oblivious? How could he live with her for over a year and still pretend not to know her? Was it some kind of weird male plan to act as dumb as he could so that she’d feel superior and take care of him and forgive him constantly as she would a child?

~ ~

When Sam returned he didn’t mention one thing about the now defunct joint account. He just took China to bed and soothed the ruffled surface of their marriage with hungry lovemaking.

China was just slipping off to sleep when Sam’s watch beeped.

“Sam!” whined China. “I told you to de-program that stupid watch!”

“I can’t,” said Sam. “It’s one of the features.”

“A feature? Beeping loudly every hour is a fucking feature?”

“Yup. The only way to stop it is with a hammer.”

“Why didn’t you leave it in the bathroom as I have repeatedly asked you to do?”

“I forgot,” said Sam.

Oh yeah,
thought China,
this is just one of the little ways he’ll repay me for closing the account. I’d better watch my back for the next couple of weeks.

“Where is it?” asked China wearily.

“On the bureau.”

China got out of bed, took the watch downstairs, got the hammer and beat the living shit out of it. Sam rushed into the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

“I stopped the watch.”

“You’re losing it babe.”

“I know, but you’re the reason I’m losing it. I gotta tell you, it felt really good. I’ll make a cup of tea.”

China and Sam ate tea and toast and watched TV until another beep from the smashed watch pierced China’s brain. She and Sam looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Oh, my God, it’s the watch from hell!” screamed China.

She threw the watch in the garbage and she and Sam went back to bed.

Aug. 5/97

Make love, laugh, everything surface fine. Deep underneath churning. Neck tense, try to cool down, don’t want to sleep next to anger. We rub like sandpaper, or rub like silk, constant friction. Friends, enemies, together and apart, impossible joining, walls loom up, then tumble. My hand on his chest rises and falls with breathing.

~ ~

China answered the door to find Karen standing there.

“Hi Karen,” said China beaming happily at the unexpected visit. “Come on in.”

“I can’t stay long. I came on business.”

“That sounds ominous. Do you have time for a cup of tea?”

“Sure,” said Karen following China to the kitchen.

Karen placed her bag on the table and looked around China’s kitchen, at the delicate lace curtains and the shells and miniature pieces of driftwood on the window sill.

“This is lovely China,” said Karen. “Very airy and a peaceful feeling. Uncluttered.”

“My minimalist decorating just kind of happened due to lack of furniture,” said China laughing. “But I’ve gotten used to it. I’ve actually started making a coffee table out of driftwood.”

“I’m sure it’ll be beautiful, which brings me to business.”

China served the tea while Karen rummaged in her bag.

“I thought you might be interested in buying space at the Fall Fair,” said Karen.

“I’m glad you mentioned it. I missed it last year because I was so embroiled in Sam’s Thunder Ceremony. I didn’t even get to see it, let alone participate in it.”

“The tables are a bit expensive. One hundred dollars for a space six feet by three feet.”

“Ouch. I don’t think I can afford that,” said China doubtfully.

“I’m in the same boat, so I thought maybe we could share a table.”

“Karen, that’s so sweet,” said China grinning with pleasure. “I’m sure I can scrape together fifty bucks.”

“Great. It’s settled. The Town Council just needs half of the money as a deposit.”

“Wait here, I’ll get my wallet.”

China ran upstairs on wings and raided her purse. She’d been a bit shy getting to know the artists in town. Now here was an opportunity to get involved with her own kind.

“I’ll bring you the rest of the money next week,” said China breathlessly.

“There’s no rush. They don’t want the balance until a week before the Fair. The date isn’t set yet, but it’s usually the last weekend in September.”

“I guess I’d better get to work,” said China happily.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” said Karen. “I’ve got to get a few more people signed up. Make as many pieces as you can. We usually do really well. A lot of tourists come from Nova Scotia and do their Christmas shopping.”

“Thanks for thinking of me Karen,” said China gratefully.

“You can thank me by helping me win the annual award for best table. Bye.”

China watched Karen get into her car and waved as she drove off. She ran back upstairs and recorded the event in her journal.

Aug. 10/97

Yes! Karen has asked me to share a table with her at the Fall Fair. I’m going to have to work like a demon to make enough pieces. I can’t believe I’ve waited so long to join the art community here. I think I’ll go back to the Grimshaw Literary Society too. I’ve been so busy immersing myself in Sam’s life that I kind of forgot that I’m white and that there’s a whole other community on this Island.

China went to the shed with wings on her feet and speed in her hands and there she stayed until Sam came home for supper carrying thick steaks and a flimsy looking hibachi.

The warrior felt like cooking which was a good thing because China hadn’t thought of anything except the sweet smelling wood in her happy fingers.

She watched Sam set the hibachi up in the back yard next to the shed.

“Don’t you want to put the hibachi on a tray or something?” asked China.

“No”, said Sam. “Why should I?”

“Because you might set fire to the grass and then to the shed and then to the house. You could at least trim the grass around the hibachi.”

“No, it’s fine,” said Sam, dismissing China’s worry with warrior aplomb.

They sat together in the kitchen sipping wine and waited for the coals to get hot. Before long, China saw smoke billowing up past the window. She rushed to the window.

“Sam,” she yelled. “The grass is on fire!”

Sam grabbed a glass of water and ran outside. China filled a pitcher with water and ran outside. The combined glass and pitcher of water, and Sam’s big feet, easily put the fire out. Sam gazed at the blackened grass and wet charcoal and shifted to Plan B.

“I’ll heat up the broiler,” said Sam with a rueful grin.

What can you do,
thought China, shaking her head.
He’s a man. He’s good for a laugh.

Much later, as China turned out the lights in the kitchen, she heard Sam on the phone.

“I don’t care what time Bear gets in. Tell him to call me. Thanks Marisa.”

“Sam, for God’s sake, it’s almost twelve. Can’t he call you in the morning?”

“No, I need to talk to him tonight.”

“Great. I’ll go to sleep, he’ll call, I’ll wake up, and then I won’t get back to sleep.”

“That’s it, China, set yourself up, why don’t you.”

China decided to let it go. The wine had made her tired and mellow and she caressed Sam’s penis. He entered her absent-mindedly and then withdrew, an unheard of occurrence. He wanted to talk, and talk, and talk, an also unheard of occurrence. He talked about nothing and everything, rambling, disconnected, making no sense to China’s tired ears.
It must be the booze talking,
she thought wearily.

“Sam, please, I want to sleep,” groaned China.

“Then go to the spare room and stop whining!” growled Sam.

China grabbed her pillow, slammed the door and went to the spare room to retrieve her journal. She groped under the mattress but it wasn’t there.
Where the hell is it,
she wondered? She got down on her knees and saw the journal on the floor beneath the bed.
That’s weird. How did it get there? I must be losing it. I did lose it. They say that one of the symptoms of men-a-pause is being forgetful. What’s Sam’s excuse? Maybe he’s going through andropause.

11:10 pm

Things sure have changed since my happy writing this morning. Sam kicked me out of bed! What happened? What’s going on with him? Too much booze? More punishment for closing the account? He’s acting really weird. Fuck it! I’m so very tired of trying to figure him out. I’ll call Larry in the morning and see if he can shed some light on my great hulking shadow.

~ ~

When Sam went to the office, China called Larry. The Mastercard business was burning a hole in the pocket of her unanswered questions. Sam had not mentioned the bank account business because he knew that she’d bring up the Mastercard business in defense.

“Larry, Sam said you used my credit card to establish an account with Canada On Line.”

“Sam said it was his account,” said Larry.

“Well, it’s mine. He has his own card but the account is mine.”

“Is there a problem?”

“Yes, it’s been cancelled. Sam said he just forgot to pay a couple of bills and they’re being unreasonable. Sam also said it’s because of your COL account that keeps the statement so high. I know that’s partly bullshit but I wanted to hear your side of the story.”

“It’s total bullshit. Sam sends me the statement every month and I pay him the charges. He’s obviously not putting the money towards your account.”

“Obviously not.”

“China, while we’re on the subject, maybe you can do something with Sam. If he doesn’t start keeping proper records, I’m going to pull out. I’ve been embarrassed too many times. Sam is my friend and he’s a great guy, but he doesn’t know how to run a business. I think you should take over the accounting.”

“Me? Jesus, Larry I’m not an accountant.”

“No, but you’re organized and you’re a hell of a lot closer to Sam than I am.”

“I’ll try, Larry, for my own sake, as well as for the business.”

“We’re doing much better now, China, and it could be a really good year for us, as long as we keep on top of things.”

~ ~

China paced the floor and waited for Sam to come home. She avoided his hello kiss and came right to the point.

“I spoke to Larry about the credit card. You lied to me again, Sam.”

“You talked to Larry behind my back?”

“I called Larry because the whole credit card business, and your explanation of what transpired, didn’t make any sense to me. Larry made sense. Larry wants me to keep track of the business account because you refuse to keep proper records.”

“So, go ahead. Fill your boots.”

China started to cry out of frustration.

“Sam, you lied again, and each time you lie to me I feel betrayed!”

“I would never betray you,” said Sam.

“I just told you that you betray me each time you lie. Are you deaf?” screamed China.

“When have I lied to you before?”

“Do you seriously want a list since our beginning?”

“You’re living in the past China.”

“I wouldn’t have to bring up the past if you’d stop repeating old behaviour and bringing it into the present.”

“Look, things are tough right now. I paid as many bills as I could but some got left behind. We’re all up to date now.”

“That’s wonderful, Sam, but it’s too late to save my Mastercard. They’ll only consider re-instating the account if we pay it all off immediately.”

“Well, we can’t do that because of your brilliant decision to close the joint account,” said Sam with amazing stupidity.

Then he saw the dangerous look in China’s eyes shooting his way, quickly changed his strategy, and deflected the green bullets with a shrug and a smile.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, we’ll get another credit card. Larry is getting too big for his britches. I’m the one who gets the accounts. Larry’s white ass wouldn’t get close to First Nation issues if it weren’t for me. Maybe if Larry worked a little harder, we wouldn’t be in this state.”

China looked at Sam steadily for a moment and then told him about their new strategy for living together.

“Sam, from now on I want to see every statement, business, or otherwise. I want to see every cheque before it goes in the bank, and I want to see all receipts. From now on I’ll pay the bills and we’ll discuss all transactions thoroughly and with good humour. Is that clear?”

“Very clear,” replied Sam grimly.

He walked into the living room and turned on the television and China started making dinner.

Sept. 1/97

If I can understand why Sam lies, can I lead him to the truth? He thinks I live in the past because I have a memory. Of course he forgets his lies. What else would a liar do? Keep an inventory? Today I lied twice to China about the bank balance. Must remember to lie to her again tomorrow. Invent lie next Monday to get her off my back re my next trip. She doesn’t believe me the way she used to. I’d better stay away a little longer to punish her.

It’s strange this path I walk each time I travel back to loving him, this intimate stranger with whom I dream warily, as though he’d murder me in my sleep if I didn’t keep one eye open. The rattler who rattles his nose with snoring and warns me frequently through the night that we are different breeds and therefore must cohabit carefully.

~ ~

The next morning China awoke with another executive decision and broached it with Sam over morning coffee. She knew she couldn’t stop Sam from lying and she didn’t trust his apparent compliance to the new financial plan. She felt defeated and didn’t like her position as marriage warden. She needed help. She also knew that Sam wouldn’t see a psychiatrist, but maybe, if the therapy was disguised as marriage counselling, he would agree to it.

“Sam, I think we need to go for marriage counseling.”

“Why?” asked Sam stupidly.

The simple question paralyzed China for a few moments. She felt like she was standing in front of an avalanche that was about to engulf her and she could save herself if she could run but she just couldn’t get her feet to move.

“Why. Well, because we have problems that need fixing.”

“What problems?” replied Sam munching inscrutably on his toast.

China considered plunging the butter knife into Sam’s belly and watching him bleed to death. She then sighed a great sigh and chose her words carefully.

“You lie all the time and it frightens me. You also refuse to communicate with me where money is concerned and I’m hoping a therapist can come up with a few guidelines on how to discuss money matters without you becoming so defensive, and my becoming angry.”

“You lie too,” said Sam, his face reddening with anger.

“Jesus, Sam, we all lie to be polite, to protect someone and to fool ourselves that all is well, when all is awful. I don’t lie every day, twenty times a day to everyone on the planet, whether I need to or not!”

“I’m not going for counseling. It didn’t help my first marriage. It made things worse. I’ll stop lying.”

“How do you intend to do that?” asked China.

“I’ll just say...I refuse to discuss this,” said Sam with astounding, perverted logic.

“That’s not a way to stop lying. You’re scaring me! Either we go for marriage counselling, or I’m leaving. This is not negotiable,” yelled China.

“All right!” said Sam. “Stop yelling. I’ll try it, but I’m not going to a woman therapist.”

“I’ll ask Nathan Bernstein. Didn’t he set up the AA meetings around here?”

“I guess so. Bear sees him sometimes, but I don’t know if he’s a marriage counsellor.”

“A good counsellor should be able to counsel anything. I’ll check it out.”

“Okay,” shrugged Sam indifferently.

China shook like a leaf with the effort of holding her marriage together. Would she have tried so hard if she hadn’t changed her life so drastically, if her life was only a short ride away? She felt like a pioneer in the wilderness, the investment too huge, the hardships survived too numerous to jettison. Each crisis weathered another room in the house of marriage.

~ ~