Friday, December 22, 2006

Welcome to Ottawa. Sorry for the inconvenience

The one time I went to the airport in Ottawa, the signs all said that. It pretty much sums it up.
My mother has to stay in Milborough until Sunday because of some hospital thing, so my father was set to drive me, Charles Wallace, and gifts up to Ottawa today. We started loading the Saab up around 9:00. By 9:04 it was clear not everything would fit: we had a choice of leaving suitcases or Charles Wallace behind. My father didn't look very happy, and he went inside shaking his head and saying, "Please forgive me," to no one in particular. About ten minutes later I realized why he was doing that. Arne pulled up at the curb.
"Don, thanks for calling. We can get everything into the trunk of the T-bird--hell, you could bring a patio set, too if you want to." We got everything into the trunk, said goodbye to my mother, and got on the road. Charles Wallace is letting me use his Blackberry right now, and he's listening to my iPod. Wilco is sulking in his rabbit carrier between us. He has a tiny deck of cards and keeps pointing to the word "euchre" but neither Charles Wallace nor I know euchre. I'm wearing Jeremy Jones's present. Arne noticed it straight off.
"Hey, cool necklace. And good welding technique. Where did you get it?"
"Jeremy Jones gave it to me."
"I keep telling you, he likes you. Just date him already. Duncan only gave you music--you got real jewelry from Jeremy. Trust me-- go with the tangible assets." He's concentrating on the 401 right now, and Dad is fiddling with the radio.

Monday, December 18, 2006

Eternity in an hour

I saw Duncan between classes this morning. He said his mouth tastes like he drank paint thinner. At least he's not talking to the doughnuts any more.
Last night I met him at Tim Hortons after he jammed with April. I knew something was odd when he stood outside the door and kept waving his hand, and staring at it. I decided to get him his double double and maple dip while he was doing whatever it was with his hands. After a few minutes he came in, and looked at the doughnut like he'd never seen one before in his life.
"Zandra, have you ever realized how you can see heaven in a doughnut glaze?" He waved the doughnut a bit. "O sweet things I love, save me from the cowcatchers."
His eyes were little pinpoints, and he was really reading that maple dip.
"Duncan, what did you do at April's?" I asked. Duncan thought for a bit.
"I'm not sure. I think it was fusion, but April still can't get the chord changes right for jazz."
"No, did you eat or drink anything there?" Mrs. Patterson's seafood surprise always had a bad effect on Duncan, but he didn't look like he had food poisoning.
"Hmmm. Hmmmm. Pop. Cookies. Fresh breath strips with pictures. More cookies." Now he was staring into the double double. "You know, if the doors of perception were cleansed, we could see double doubles as they are: infinite."
The direct route was the only thing left. "Duncan, are you all right?"
"Welll...there's something in my head and it's not me," Duncan said after a while. Then he apologized to his double double and drank it. I suggested that I drive him home and he agreed. In the car he kept saying he could feel the streetlights. I dropped him off and then called Jeremy Jones.
"Did you break up with him again?" Jeremy asked.
"No, and I'm fine, too, thank you."
"Sorry. It's been a long day and I had to put up with Zapata staring at me evilly all afternoon at this choir thing I did sound for."
I asked Jeremy if there really was something going on between April and Duncan, and what possibly could have gone on this afternoon. Jeremy said not to worry, and that if they had had any substances liable to abuse at the Patterson house April's sister was probably responsible. I thanked Jeremy and told him he made me feel better.
Then Duncan called. All he said was "Dealin' Dalton. Ask Chuck."

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Academy fight song

Last night my mother gave my father a toolbox.
"I think this is yours, Don, although I have this odd feeling I should have picked it up earlier," my mother said. My father opened the blue and yellow toolbox and pulled out a meatball baller, a ligonberry press and a full set of Allen keys.
"It says it's for Dr. Larson, though," my father said.
"I think it's from that crazy dentist down the hall. Everyone on the floor got toolkits," my mother said.
"And I suppose he doesn't know you're English," my father said. My mother nodded. I guess my mother would have received a toolkit with a tea strainer in it or something if the dentist knew.
Things have been busy at the tutoring table this week, with exams and essays coming up. Zapata took the principal's bribe and joined a carolling group. Better her than me. Jeremy Jones came by the library when I had a break from the grade 9 students.
"Thanks for not breaking up with Duncan again this weekend," he said. "I had enough to do with Zapata breaking up with Eldritch again this weekend."
"Well, you're a very good listener, Jeremy, and very honest. A lot of girls like that." Then we both stared at each other for a bit, then he grabbed his backpack and left suddenly. After two more grade 9s I left too, since I had to retrieve Charles Wallace from his new school. The principal at Glenallen told my parents to switch Charles Wallace out while his teacher was tied up with court appearances. My brother was transferred to King Edward VIII public school and was adjusting to having a regular class schedule again.
When I got to King Edward VIII I was in time to pull my brother out of a trashcan in front of the gym doors.
"Thanks, Sandra. Tomorrow could you come a little earlier, before they shove me in the garbage?"
"I had to tutor--the principal's making me fill out timecards." Charles Wallace dusted himself off and we started to walk home. We had bought the Christmas tree last night and Duncan was coming over to help put it up and avoid watching the Leafs lose. Christmas decoration detritus was all over the living room when we got in. A half hour after we got home, Duncan arrived and I ordered pizza.
"Is anyone else helping with this?" Charles Wallace asked about the tree.
"Besides Duncan? Just Dad. Mom's at the hospital," I said. I spoke a little too soon. Someone started banging on the door loudly. "Oh shit, it's probably Arne." Duncan picked up some garland and held it defensively as I opened the door. Arne stumbled in, wearing a half-destroyed Santa suit.
"They're animals! Animals!" He went to the fridge for a beer, and then explained that he'd just escaped a toy riot at IKEA. Apparently nobody told Arne that Santa could only promise children products from IKEA, and he got attacked by a group of irate preschoolers who didn't want shelving for Christmas. "When I got out, they were throwing ligonberry at the elves. It wasn't pretty."

Monday, December 04, 2006

Time's tide, etc.

Another ghastly weekend, and now a horrid week.
Actually, the weekend wasn't all bad. I went to Toronto with my mother on Saturday; she went shopping and I did research for my English and history essays at Metro Ref. Of course, my mother drove me to Toronto since she was kind of sorry about Friday night. The Hendersons had their Christmas party, and I had to go with my parents. (Charles Wallace was off at the Three Kronen helping Arne with the karaoke, filling in for me.) My parents get a sadistic kick out of having me wear things my grandmother sends me: my grandmother is responsible for the pink Hello Kitty sweatsuit I have, for example. For the Christmas party my parents "suggested" that I wear the holiday dress my grandmother got me at Thanksgiving. When I actually had it on, they appeared to reconsider: when I went to get my coat my father said, "Emily, she looks like a depressive tree."
"I know, Don. She'll change." But we didn't have time. I arrived at the Hendersons with my parents and tried to keep my coat on as long as possible. Unfortunately Zapata's father took it for me and I didn't have anywhere to hide. Jeremy Jones was there DJing. Duncan was supposed to have gone with us but he forgot, or something, so the only people roughly my age there were Zapata (whose boyfriend "forgot" to show up too) and Jeremy, and since Jeremy was working I couldn't talk to him much. Zapata and I stuck to the kitchen, since most of her parents' friends were more into drinking and complaining about work and wouldn't notice if we drank the cheaper sparkling wines there. Zapata asked about my dress.
"I don't want to talk about it," I said. "I'm in the mood for a Patrick Swayze Christmas right now."
"That bad?"
"Yes. Duncan's forgotten about this party, and he's probably off with April somewhere. I so want to be finished with high school and be in university so I can be miserable around people I don't know."
My parents and I left the party around midnight, and it looked like some of the other guests were just warming up. My parents looked a bit guilty about my dress, and my mother suprised me when we got to the house by saying she'd take me to Toronto the next day so I could get some decent research done for my essays.