Second Chances (11 page)

“The column. Another anti-war rant.”

“You wouldn't want to know what my father thinks of people who don't support the war. He believes Canada should stand shoulder to shoulder with the U.S. in Vietnam. He thinks our prime minister Trudeau represents all that is wrong with today's youth, that he's little better than a Communist.”

“Your father has a right to his point of view. It may be narrow and ill-informed, but he's certainly entitled to have it.” Gideon's shrewd eyes studied me. “Where do you stand on the issue?”

“I don't know why people just can't get along. What's the point of killing each other when there's enough to go around for everyone?”

“Out of the mouths of babes,” murmured Gideon. “But you know it's not that simple. You always have to question and dig deeper than what you read in the press.”

“I know. I know. Different ideologies. Power struggles. Greed. Killing innocent people in the name of war. My Lai should never have happened.”

“That is an ugly stain on the American cause, no doubt about it. We haven't heard the last of that travesty yet.” His eyes brightened as if he saw something I didn't.

“Will there be a trial?”

“Most certainly. The outcome will depend on who talks. The army isn't known for turning on its own. The media has to get the story out. I believe that with every ounce of my journalistic blood. We need to provoke. Some might tell you being a reporter is not an honorable profession, but I tell you it is the most noble when done with a social conscience. The army will fight to keep this story from gaining momentum. It's our job to make sure it does.”

“Those American soldiers killed the whole village. Women and children. They threw their bodies into a big pit. How could the army pretend that never happened?”

“Is that a rhetorical question? How could the U.S. stay in a war they cannot win?”

I was suddenly impatient with this never-ending debate that had no answers.

“I thought I saw you last night,” I said.

“I took Ruby for a walk — perhaps you saw me then.”

“Were you near Minnow Beach?”

“No, I didn't get that far.”

“I thought I saw you standing in the pines near the beach. William came home for the weekend.”

“I heard. What is bothering you, Darlene? Your thoughts are jumping around like fleas on a dog.”

The ringing of the phone saved me from answering. Gideon picked up the receiver but kept his eyes on my face. I grabbed a
National Geographic
from a stack on the coffee table and pretended to read.

“Are you sure? I waited for you, but … no, no. That's all right. We can reschedule.” Gideon was sitting up straighter with his head cocked to one side, listening intently. “I'm really interested …. Okay, but anytime, anywhere you say.” He listened to the voice at the other end and kept trying to interrupt. He lifted his free hand in surrender. “If that's what you want. Thanks for letting me know.”

Gideon clunked down the receiver. I looked up from the magazine.

“What's going on?” I asked.

His eyes were staring at the wall as if he was watching something far away. It took a bit before he looked at me. “I had a lead for a story I've been working on and wanted to get published soon. The information that a secret source promised me was going to make it an international scoop. Now, it's back to the drawing board.”

“What story?”

“Oh, one about the war.” He said it like his mind was on something else. “Damnation,” he said under his breath.

“Maybe I could help get the information for you. Who's your source?”

Gideon focused his eyes on me as if remembering I was there. “I'll have to swear you to secrecy. You wouldn't be able to tell anybody else, not even your mother.”

I made a cross over my heart. “Promise,” I said, “and hope to die.”

Gideon stared at me until he seemed satisfied. “Okay. You are a journalist in training and must abide by our creed to protect our sources at all costs. Candy Parsens called me the morning of the beach party and said she had something for me about Vietnam. The My Lai massacre to be exact.”

“Candy? Are you sure she's telling the truth?” I said it without thinking then looked down at the magazine in my lap so that Gideon wouldn't see my eyes. Candy had secrets. She liked to be on display. I liked listening to her stories, but how could they all be true? “Maybe you should be careful about what she tells you, Gideon.”

“You'll miss out on the best scoops if you aren't willing to get your hands a little dirty. Besides, she told me she had documents. I'd like you to go track her down and try to get her to talk. This story is one that potentially could show the world how the American army and government cover up what's been going on in Vietnam. It's a story that needs to be told.” His expression was a mixture of excitement and frustration.

“I'll try, Gideon.” I stood up quickly and started for the door. “I'll get on it right away.”

“Come back right after you speak with her,” he called to me. “Don't let me down on this one, Little Fin.”

I opened the front door and looked back. Gideon was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed and a big smile on his face. He was probably thinking about having his story run in the
New York Times
and the
Washington Post
. He was salivating to win the Pulitzer for journalism. I hoped Candy wasn't leading him on about the documents.

I wanted to talk to her for my own reasons. Beginning with why William was making out with her when he said he didn't know her. I saw the way he'd looked at her when she was walking across the sand. I was sure he'd known her from before. I had to get home and talk to William before he left for Toronto. I wanted to find out what he knew about Candy before I went to talk to her.

Elizabeth was waiting for me on the front steps. She met me halfway up the path. Her hair was loose and soft, shining a dull gold in the sunlight. I pushed kinky strands of mine out of my face and scowled.

“There's the party animal. You look like death,” she said. “Like someone drained all the blood out of your face. That is except for your eyes. They're red as tomatoes.”

“Thanks.”

“Your mom's been looking for you. William is splitting this groovy scene.”

“Are they inside?”

“Yeah.”

The screen door creaked open and we both turned as William emerged onto the top step. He was carrying his duffel bag and a bag of cookies. Mom followed behind him, and he turned and hugged her. She looked at us over his shoulder.

“There you are, Darlene,” said Mom. “I was hoping you'd make it back in time to say goodbye to your brother.”

I looked up at William. His aviator sunglasses hid his eyes. His beard was growing scraggly so his face was dark and rough-looking. He gave my mother one last hug before bounding down the stairs towards us.

“See you,” he said.

“Will you be back this summer?” Elizabeth asked. She took a couple of steps towards him so that she was directly in his path. Her hands were holding onto her waist and she stood so that one hip jutted out. She was wearing a white cotton blouse and pink hot pants. When she looked at William, she opened her eyes wide and pouted.

“Maybe next weekend. I promised Mom I'd help her with stock. Later, Elizabeth.” He stepped around her and kept walking.

I glared at Elizabeth behind her back and fell into step alongside William as he headed toward his car, a second-hand Volkswagen Beetle he'd bought the summer before. When I thought we were out of earshot of Elizabeth, I said, “I saw you with Candy Parsens last night at the beach.”

William turned to stare down at me through his glasses. His eyes were shadowy circles behind the dark lenses. “As I remember, you were in no condition to see anything clearly last night.”

“I know what I saw.”

“What you think you saw.”

“What I know I saw. Elizabeth saw you too.”

“Give it a rest. My love life is none of your business.”

“So you
do
know Candy.” I stood in front of the driver's door so William couldn't get around me. “What's going on between you two?”

“Mom's watching. Get out of my way.”

“No.”

“Don't make me have to move you.”

“How do you know Candy?”

William looked toward the house. “Johnny, all right? I know Johnny and Candy from Toronto.” William waved in the direction of Mom and Elizabeth. “See you next weekend!” he called. “Now get out of my way. I'm already late.”

I stepped aside. William pulled hard on the door and it swung wide open, pushing him back. He got inside and started the engine, then rolled down the window. When he looked up at me, he let the muscles in his face go slack. “It was nothing, okay?”

“So why did you lie about knowing them?”

“Because I didn't want to have to get into it with you.” He smiled, his lopsided, little-boy grin, before laying one arm across the back of the car seat and turning to back onto the street. “See you next weekend, kid.”

I stood in the driveway and watched William drive too fast away from me down toward the highway, his old car burning oil that left a trail of black smoke in the air after he'd disappeared from view. I walked back to the store, kicking at a stone on the path.

Something was going on. I could feel it in my journalistic bones.

I promised Mom I wouldn't be long and biked over to Candy's. The flower power van was in the driveway, but the house had that empty feel it gets when people have been gone a while.

I left my bike leaning against the rain barrel and climbed down to the beach. After I'd sat in the sand and contemplated life, I waded around the point to the stretch of sand where Candy and I'd spent the afternoon. I couldn't see any sign of her. I picked up a stick lying next to a piece of driftwood and poked holes in the sand as I followed the beach along the shoreline. I reached the path and climbed it up to the road. I walked along the bluff to the point that overlooked the beach. An adult and a child were playing in the sand near the shore. At first I thought it was Candy with Sean but that was just because I wanted it to be. I started down the path that snaked through the woods down to the north end of the beach.

I must have been delusional not to have recognized Johnny the first time I looked. He was dressed in cutoff shorts and wasn't wearing a shirt. I didn't go any further than the edge of the sand, watching for a while from behind a tree. Sean was digging with a shovel and filling a plastic yellow pail that he'd carry over to Johnny and dump on his feet. Johnny was building a sandcastle just out of reach of the waves that rolled across the sand. I was close enough to see the green eagle on his biceps move up and down as he worked. They kept at it for a while until Johnny stood and stretched. Then he bent and swung Sean in the air over his head, turning in a circle and spinning him around and around. Sean squealed the whole time and called, “Daddy, Daddy! Airplane!” Johnny pulled him close and ran into the water, splashing and dunking Sean up to his waist before lifting him into the air. I could hear Sean's laughter as I turned to go.

I walked out of the woods and onto the road, starting slowly back to get my bike. Johnny was looking less and less like the bad person I wanted him to be. If he was a bad person, then my mother would see through him. My father would stand a chance.

There was still no sign of Candy at their house. I looked in the back yard and then got on my bike. As I pedalled toward the road, I thought about Sean. The whole time I'd seen him with Candy, I'd never once heard him laugh like he just had with Johnny. Candy had never once swung him around and around in the air, pretending that he could fly.

It was nearly three o'clock when I started up the driveway to the store. Dad's car was still in the driveway, but he'd be going back to Ottawa soon. He always left at two thirty exactly. He said he had to get back to the city while it was still light. You could set your watch by his leaving, so today was strange.

I was dragging my feet, not really wanting to talk to anybody, when I heard Mom's voice. She and Dad were sitting on the steps next to each other and they didn't see me. I stepped back behind Dad's car. Maybe I'd just stay out of their way until he left. Their voices got louder and I looked back. They'd left the steps and had started walking toward the car. They still hadn't seen me and I don't know why, but I stayed out of sight and watched them. If I wasn't careful, I was going to turn into a creepy voyeur.

“Where did you go last night?” Mom asked.

“I couldn't sleep, so I went outside for a bit of air. Didn't want to disturb you.” Dad had stopped walking and was looking down at Mom's bowed head.

“I woke up around one thirty and you were gone. Are you having trouble sleeping again?” she asked.

“Lately, yeah. It's been ten years but it feels like yesterday sometimes.”

Mom reached up and cupped her hand around my dad's cheek. He closed his eyes and his head seemed to melt into her hand. He hadn't shaved and his face looked grizzly and tired. They stood that way for a while.

Mom lowered her hand. She asked, “Is it time to see the doctor? Your headaches are getting worse.”

Dad shook his head. “I'll be all right. It's just this time of year. Brings it back.”

“I know,” said Mom. “I know.” She put her arm through his and they started walking with their heads down in my direction. “But you can't let this go. I'll phone if you like.”

I slipped behind the birch trees and through the woods. When I was close to the road, I started running. I didn't stop until I'd reached the beach and scrambled up the rocks to my lookout. My breath was coming in ragged tears that hurt my lungs. I sat there for a long time, getting calm and watching the waves and thinking about my dead sister Annie. I didn't want to think about her, but I couldn't stop myself from seeing her face. Dad's words had brought her back.