Kaleidoscope (16 page)

“There’s something else,” she said. “I don’t know whether it could be classified as ‘good news,’ but it is news. You can go through the house today. You’ll be supervised – just for safety’s sake – but I know you’re anxious to know the extent of the damage.”

“Should we arrange a time?”

Her voice had almost disappeared. “No need,” she said huskily. “We have people there 24/7.”

“Okay, thanks again. Take care of that cold.”

“It will take more than a summer cold to finish me, but I appreciate the thought. And, Joanne, if you really want to know how involved Riel Delorme is with all this, you might be wise to talk to your daughter.”

After I hung up, I stared at the phone. Mieka and I had never had trouble communicating. Now, in the course of a half-hour, two people had advised me to talk to her. But the stakes were high. Neither of us could afford a misstep. We were both proud, and I knew that neither Mieka nor I would walk away or give in.

I was still staring at my cell when it rang. I hoped it was Mieka offering me an opening, but it was Ed.

“I thought I’d check in and see how my best man was doing the day after.”

“I’m okay,” I said.

“Just okay?”

“Reality is starting to set in,” I said. “Jill called.”

“I was sure she would. Jo, I hope you’re not angry that I told her about what happened to your house. I thought she should know.”

“And you were right. You saved me from having to go through the story one more time.”

“Do you want me to come out to the lake? You sound a little down.”

I looked around Leland’s condo. More sins of omission. More coals heaped upon my head. “Ed, can I take you up on your offer to go through the house with me? I was just talking to the police, and they say it’s safe.”

“Choose a time, and I’ll meet you there.”

“Taylor gets out of school at three-thirty. Could I meet you at the house at two?”

“I’ll be there.”

Ready or not, life was moving along. I picked up my cell and pressed Mieka’s number.

“How’s everything in your kingdom this morning?” I said.

“Tranquil,” she said. “I just walked the girls to school. Lena insisted on wearing the orchid from the wedding in her fake ponytail, and Madeleine took her orchid to Madame Turmel because we have a bouquet of orchids and Madame has none.”

“The showgirl and the socialist,” I said.

“Genes will tell,” Mieka said.

“I don’t remember any showgirl genes,” I said. “But who knows? Mieka, you mentioned the other day that Riel had found a couple of possible sites for UpSlideDown2. I have some free time today. Do you think I could call him and get the addresses?”

“More than one way to skin a cat, huh?” Mieka said and there was an edge in her voice. “Did you talk to Zack about Riel and me?”

“I did. You know Zack. He wants this problem between
you and me fixed. And he wants it fixed fast. Calling Riel seemed like a good first step, but if I’m wrong …”

“You’re not wrong,” she said. “This is just so hard. I’ve been staring at the phone trying to decide whether the story about the ladies with their orchids was a good enough excuse to call you.”

“Since when did we need an excuse to call each other?”

“Since you found out about Riel, I guess. I don’t want to do the wrong thing either.”

“We’re all determined to make it through this. Just remember that we’re on your side.”

“And Riel’s.”

“And Riel’s,” I said, and I hoped I was convincing. “Mieka, Leland and Zack have been talking about adding a multipurpose complex to the Village Project – recreation centre, art gallery, and so on. It would be a shared facility with North Central. Leland wants to talk to Riel about it.”

“Does Leland really want to talk to Riel or is he just doing it as a favour to you?”

“Does it matter? This isn’t high school, Mieka. A man died. We’ve lost our home – at least for the foreseeable future. Someone has to
do
something.”

“I’ll call Riel,” she said. “He’ll be at work, but he can phone you. Are you at the lake?”

“Doing errands,” I said quickly. “Just have him call my cell number. And, Mieka, I know Zack would appreciate a photo of the girls with the orchids.”

“Check your BlackBerry. I already sent you both one.”

I hung up and found the picture of the girls. They were both wearing crayon-bright T-shirts and shorts. Lena had half turned to give the camera the best possible shot of her ponytail; Madeleine was holding her orchid in both hands and gazing straight at the camera. I sent Zack a text telling him to check his BlackBerry and that I was going to try to
connect with Riel. I knew Zack was in court, but it wasn’t long before his answer arrived. It was to the point. “Do whatever it takes.”

When I went into the living room to shut the terrace doors before I headed out to do errands, I noticed the file Angus had brought where I’d left it on the bookshelf. I took it down, carried it to the coffee table, and started to go through the clippings. I didn’t get far. The picture of me holding my children’s hands at Ian’s funeral took me to a place I wasn’t anxious to revisit.

In the months after Ian’s death, friends and acquaintances praised the way I was handling the tragedy and getting on with our family’s life. Their perception couldn’t have been farther off the mark. I went through the necessary motions, but I had shut down. The only memory I have of that time is one I’d like to forget.

Every morning for what must have been weeks, I awoke to find Mieka at my bedside, her eyes anxious, asking me to get up and help her give the boys breakfast so they could all go to school. When the children left, I started my day. I did laundry, grocery shopped, answered phone calls, cleaned the house, stared at my unfinished dissertation, made supper, and counted the hours until I could tuck the kids in, take a sleeping pill, and be oblivious until morning. I survived, but those weeks left me with the knowledge that I lived on the edge of a crumbling cliff, and that I had to be very careful not to lose my foothold.

I flipped through the clippings till I came to a page recording an election victory. I stared at the pictures of that triumphant night and tried to remember what it was like to be young and unafraid.

I took a cab to the Volvo dealership where I filled out the forms for leasing a station wagon that was the twin of my
car, which Zack would have to drive until a new car could be fitted with hand controls.

Zack had always driven a Jaguar, so my next stop was the Jaguar dealership for some brochures. I was sitting in a deep, swank leather chair, thumbing through photos of cars that cost more than many families earned in a year when Riel called. The irony was not lost on me.

Riel and I greeted each other with careful politeness.

“If you’re serious about looking at a couple of possibilities for UpSlidedown2, we’re in luck.” Riel said. “I work for Northern Tree, and our chipper just broke. It’s going to take a couple of hours to fix, so if you’d like company, I’m available.”

“Then we’re on,” I said. “Where shall we meet?”

“I caught a ride to work with a buddy. We could save time if you picked me up. We’re out trimming poplars at the old cemetery. Corner of 4
^th
and Broad.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Riel was wearing work clothes, and they were soiled. He didn’t get into the car right away. “Have you a got a towel or something I can sit on?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “This is the same car I have. We chose it because the leather can be wiped off. Hop in.”

Riel’s body was tense as he entered the car, and when he spoke, he stared ahead, not looking at me. “There were two places I thought we might look at, a deconsecrated church that’s become a drop-in centre and a deconsecrated synagogue that’s become a dance studio.”

“Signs of the times,” I said.

The church was depressing, but even from the curb, the old synagogue was appealing. I opened the door, but Riel made no move to get out.

“Aren’t you coming?” I asked.

“The building’s open. I called ahead. There’s a class going on. I’ll stay with the car. You don’t want to come back and find it keyed.”

“The last time our car got keyed, it was parked in front of our house,” I said. “Riel, I’d like us to look at the building together.”

The main floor of the old stone synagogue was open and spacious, with shining wooden floors and a mirrored wall for the dancers. There was indeed a class going on – a dozen little boys in the four-year-old range were jumping, rolling, leaping, waddling, and having what appeared to be a grand time. Their teacher, a whip-thin brunette, waved us in and moved back to her charges.

Riel and I stood for a moment at the edge of the dance space, watching the action, and then we moved along the edge of the space towards the kitchen, bathrooms, and office at back. Everything was bright and solid, but the old synagogue was about half the size of the building that we had sold to make way for the Village Project.

“I like this one,” I said. “What do you and Mieka think about the size?”

“No question – we’d have to expand it. You think it’s worth looking into?”

“Sure. Who owns the building?”

“A nice young hippie couple with a baby. They had a dream, but it betrayed them by making them rich.”

“What was their dream?”

“To introduce
SYLVANI
to Saskatchewan.” Riel smiled “And don’t ask me what
SYLVANI
is. All I know is that it’s some kind of dance and that Prairie and Rhyse can’t keep up with the demand for classes, and they need a bigger space.”

I walked across the room to check out the kitchen and bathrooms in the back. “This place definitely has
possibilities,” I said, “but expansion costs money. How much do the nice young hippies want for this building?”

I whistled at the sum Riel named. “I guess the big bad world of capitalism taught Prairie and Rhyse a thing or two about real estate. Anything else we should look at?”

Riel shook his head. “These were the only two sites that I thought might work. I know the idea behind UpSlideDown2 is outreach, but unless we’re prepared to have a crack house or a shooting gallery next door, our location options are limited.”

“What’s a shooting gallery?”

Riel raised his left arm and mimed the action of injecting himself. “You don’t want kids playing next door to a shooting gallery,” he said. “There are needles all over the ground.”

“And this neighbourhood is safe?”

Riel’s mouth twitched. “Everything’s relative, but yes. I talked to Prairie and Rhyse. They have classes all day and well into the evening and they say they’ve never had a serious problem.”

When we walked back, I stopped for a moment to watch the little boys. They were dancing a freestyle hip-hop on the shining floor and admiring their moves in the mirrored wall. “This place has a really good feel,” I said.

“It does,” Riel agreed. “So the synagogue is top of the list?”

I smiled at him. “It’s a short list, but yes. This building feels right to me.”

Nobody had keyed the Volvo. I ran my finger along the doors on the passenger side. “Look at that,” I said. “Not a mark.”

“That’s a relief,” Riel said. “So do you want me to arrange a meeting with Prairie and Rhyse?”

“Let’s sleep on it,” I said. “The building has potential, but we should find out if the buildings on either side are for sale, and if they are, whether they’re in our price range.”

Riel’s laugh was short and bitter. “I still don’t think things through, do I?” he said. “That’s what you wrote on one of my papers: ‘Dig more deeply here. Think things through.’ I wish I’d listened.”

“Riel, I’ve written those words on dozens of student papers. They weren’t a comment on your life.”

“It would have been a valid comment.”

I met his eyes. “Were you involved in what happened to our house?”

He pounded his fist into his palm. “Jesus, if I were involved in the explosion at your house, do you think I would have come along on this little shopping expedition of yours? Do you think I would have gone to the cops the morning after your house blew up? Give me a little credit, Professor Kilbourn, and while you’re at it,
you
dig a little more deeply.
You
think things through. Ask yourself who was responsible for creating an atmosphere where destroying someone else’s home was seen as an acceptable option.”

“You believe we brought the explosion on ourselves because of our association with Leland Hunter?” I said.

Riel’s eyes were cold. “I think it might be time for you to take a look in the mirror.”

I was close to telling Riel to find another way back to work, then I remembered Zack’s message when Mieka sent the pictures of the girls with their orchids. “Do what it takes,” he’d texted. So I tried again.

“I think we’re all aware that mistakes have been made,” I said, “but that doesn’t mean they can’t be rectified. Did Mieka tell you about Leland’s plan to make a shared multipurpose complex part of the Village Project?”

Riel’s jaw was set. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Would you at least talk to Leland?” I said. “Find out what he has to say.”

“Leland Hunter wouldn’t talk to me.”

“He’s already agreed to,” I said.

Riel’s eyes flashed with anger. “So if I refuse to meet with him, I’m the guy who would rather lead his people over the cliff than take the enemy’s hand.”

“If your ego trumps the interests of the people you represent, I guess so,” I said.

He gave me a sharp look. “That’s how you see it?”

“That’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Riel spit out an expletive. When he started walking towards the bus stop, I didn’t protest. I just sat and watched.

I was only a few blocks from Peter’s clinic on Winnipeg Street so I called him and invited myself for coffee. I once described my sons by saying that Angus was the one who gave me an aerobic workout, but Peter was my yoga. From the beginning, there was a natural peace about Peter that seemed to move into me by osmosis when I was with him. That morning I was in serious need of an infusion of serenity.