Chapter Eight

I rolled over and opened my eyes. The sun was streaming through the open curtains onto the floor and the hands of the clock read six thirty. I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but it was no use — too many things on my mind. I wanted to get started on my writing assignment and William and Dad should be at the lake early in the afternoon. I had a lot to do before they showed up and Dad started finding chores for me around the house.

I slipped out from under the covers and stretched. By the stifling air in the bedroom, I could tell it was going to be another hot day. Elizabeth didn’t stir as I slid open my dresser drawer and took out my favourite denim shorts and white cotton peasant top. I took them into the bathroom and changed, then washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went downstairs. Mom wasn’t up yet, so I tried to move around quietly as I searched the cupboards for something to eat. A package of unopened bran muffins was at the back of the bread cupboard. I checked for green mold then ate one with a glass of orange juice before collecting my notebook and pen and heading out the back door.

The heat hit me like a wall when I stepped outside, even though the sun was barely up above the pine trees. Sweat was running down my forehead and cheeks by the time I’d left our backyard and started down the path to the road. My shirt was sticky against my skin, as if someone had dribbled warm water down my back. I looked up and down the empty road and started walking in the direction of Tyler’s house. He might not want to help me with my article for Gideon, but I hoped he would. He was the perfect person to talk about growing up at the lake and what it meant now we were older.

I didn’t meet him on the way as I’d hoped I would. I started walking slower. I rounded the bend and spotted his cottage, which was set in a stand of alders on a bluff a fair distance from the water. As I got closer, I started to rethink my plan. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all. Tyler might think I was chasing him and I’d look pathetic. I hesitated at the bottom of his driveway. I began turning to retrace my steps when the back door of the cottage opened. Tyler had chosen that exact moment to come outside holding a big orange tabby cat. He set it down on the steps and gave the back of its neck a scratch before he raised his head to survey the yard. That’s when he saw me. There was nowhere to hide. I waved and started up the driveway as if I was happy to see him.

“You’re up early,” he said. “Give me a sec and I’ll walk with you.”

He went back inside, giving me time to think about what I would say. A few minutes later, he opened the back door and leapt down the stairs, carrying his lunch pail and drinking from a bottle of orange juice. His hair was damp and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.

“Too hot to run today,” he said. “I have time to sit by the lake for a bit till my ride comes, if you want to.”

We walked back toward my cottage and the path to the beach.

“Were you looking for me?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“Just like old times.” He grinned and bumped me with his lunch pail. “Remember the time I dared you to climb that huge pine tree on Old Bear Road and the wind came up and you were swaying up there holding on for dear life?”

“As I recall, you didn’t tell me the tree leaked sap. It took me two days to get my hands clean. I had some explaining to do when I got home and my clothes were ruined. That scared me more than falling out of the tree.”

Tyler laughed. “I sure liked watching you climb. You were like a squirrel hopping up those branches. You could outclimb all the guys.”

“With my hands tied,” I said. “But I’ve outgrown climbing trees.”

In case you hadn’t noticed.

We walked silently down the path through the trees and across the sand until we reached my rock overlooking the water. This morning the lake was velvety blue and still as glass. Tyler leaned back and stretched his legs while he drank his orange juice. He sighed like he was happy to be sitting on my rock, and I pretended for a few seconds that I was the reason.

“I’m helping Gideon with a story he’s working on for a magazine and wonder if I could get your opinion on summers at the lake,” I said.

“Gideon, that old man who delivers the mail?”

“He’s actually a journalist. He has a column in a Toronto paper.”

“Really? I thought he was a retired guy from Toronto who just enjoys living like a hermit.”

“Yeah well, looks can be deceiving. So, will you do it? Answer a few questions for my article?”

Tyler lowered the bottle. “Okay, I guess. Sure, ask away.”

“Great.”

I opened my notebook to a clean page and uncapped my pen. “So what do you remember about summers at the lake when you were young?”

Tyler looked out over the lake and squinted into the sun. “I remember I could hardly wait to leave Peterborough to come here when school got out. There always seemed to be lots of kids around and no end of things to do — swimming, touring around in the rowboat, camping under the stars, bonfires. It was a free time. No worries except remembering to show up home for supper. There was a certain girl I used to like to hang out with.” He turned sideways and grinned at me. “Seems I still do.”

I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see my face change colour. I’d forgotten how much he liked to tease me.

“How has it changed, coming up to the lake?”

This time, Tyler was quiet for a long time. When he started talking, his voice had lost its lightness. “It’s like all the fun has gone out of being here. I don’t know when it changed, but it did. I’d rather be in Toronto or Ottawa or anywhere else where there’s something going on. It’s like I’m just putting in time. Waiting for my life to begin and doing everything possible not to end up working a nine to five job like my dad.”

“Would you really rather be in the city?”

“Sometimes. Maybe not.” Tyler focused his eyes on the horizon. “I thought about signing up for Nam over the winter. I wanted to get out there and see the world and do something different. Get away for a while.”

My heart jumped. “It’s not our war. It’s the Americans’ war.”

“They take Canadian recruits. We’re still part of it whether we want to be or not. Anyhow, I decided I couldn’t stand killing anyone, so that ended that daydream.”

“Being shot at wouldn’t be much fun either.”

“I ask myself why I should lead this safe life while people are being killed.” Tyler’s voice had dropped.

“We can’t be responsible for the terrible things going on in the world,” I said. “You aren’t the one who decided to send troops into Vietnam.”

“But I’m watching from the sidelines. Who said that evil is sitting back doing nothing while people are dying?”

“Edmund Burke in the 1700s. He said that all it takes for evil to triumph is good men to do nothing.”

Tyler shot me an admiring look. “How do you know this stuff?”

“History class. It’s a pretty famous quote.”

“Yeah, but how many people remember who said it? Anyhow, that’s what we’re doing, in my opinion.”

“But how could you want to fight in a war after what happened to those women and children in My Lai? How many was it the Americans slaughtered? Five hundred? They herded them up like animals and shot them. Look at the Kent State massacre last year. The Ohio National Guard fired on students. They killed four of them and wounded nine more just because they were protesting going into Cambodia. They weren’t much older than you or me. How can they rationalize doing that? It’s wrong what Nixon’s doing. What their government is making their soldiers do. The Americans aren’t blameless.” I was out of breath.

“Yeah, but sometimes you have to take a stand even if it doesn’t all go perfectly.”

“I don’t know if we do in Vietnam,” I said. “How can we know what’s really behind a country going to war when politicians will say anything to get what they want?”

“You’ve got me there. I just think there’s more reason to go to Vietnam than not. I guess we can agree to disagree.” Tyler looked at his watch. “Hey, gotta go. My ride will be here soon.” He stood and looked down at me. “You coming to the beach party tonight? You can ask me more questions, then, for your lake article if you want. We seem to have a lot to talk about.” He grinned.

“I’m not sure. William will be visiting for the weekend.” The sudden change in topic left me wanting to hear more of Tyler’s opinions about Vietnam. Tyler was smarter than he let on most of the time. We used to discuss things going on in the world before he found Jane Ratherford and turned cool.

“Bring him too. I haven’t seen your brother all year.”

“Maybe.”

“See you then.”

I watched Tyler walk across the beach before I returned to my notebook. He hadn’t told me much that I could use in my article, but a new idea was beginning to take shape. This could be a coming of age story — the childhood security of Cedar Lake and the war raging across the ocean. I knew Canada wasn’t officially in the war, but we were too closely connected to the States to believe that it wasn’t our war too. Gideon had said that enough times to make me a believer. This could be the angle that would transform my story into something brilliant.

I jotted down notes for well over an hour. When I finally put away my pen, I was ready to interview more people. I thought again about Tyler and wondered if it meant anything that he hadn’t asked about Elizabeth. I ran that idea around in my mind like a warm beach stone, trying to read something into his omission, but in the end, I couldn’t convince myself that what he’d failed to ask meant anything at all.

I waited another hour before going to Candy Parsens’. I’d picked her as my token newcomer at the lake, figuring she’d give my article an exotic flavour. If I was lucky, she’d name more of her famous friends.

I pedalled my bike up their driveway and surveyed their property. The grass hadn’t been mowed in a while and the shrubs that used to be trimmed obsessively by Mr. Davidson were starting to grow in haphazard shapes. Bags of garbage were stacked near the back door and empty wine bottles spilled out of one. Flies circled just above and wasps buzzed from the pile. The visitor’s car was still in the driveway behind Johnny’s flower power van.

I got halfway up the driveway before I stopped and thought about leaving and coming back another time. I didn’t want to walk in on Candy and Johnny and those two men staying with them. Another few seconds and I would have been gone, but just like at Tyler’s, the back door opened before I’d taken a step away from the house. Candy must have seen me through the kitchen window. She started running toward me. Her flowing caftan, the colour of rubies, was shimmering in the sunlight with each step. As she got closer, I could see that the scooped neckline was rimmed in gold and silver threads. Under the hem of the caftan, her toenails were painted bubble gum pink. Candy waved a cigarette in the air as she reached around me with her other arm to give me a hug. She reeked of nicotine and Tabu, the heaviest drugstore perfume going.

“Darlene, did we make plans for today? I was hoping you’d come by. We can go down to the beach for a swim. Johnny’s looking after the baby.”

I stared at her. Hadn’t she remembered begging me to come visit?

She took me by the hand and tugged me toward the cottage, giggling as if we were two teenage girlfriends. I let myself be propelled along until I found myself in the kitchen. Johnny looked up from where he was spooning food into Sean’s open mouth. Sean was seated in a high chair, banging a lettered block on the plastic tray in between mouthfuls. The kitchen was even messier than the last time I’d been in it, with boxes of food and food-encrusted dishes spread about the surfaces along with overflowing ashtrays. If I lived to be ninety, I’d never be able to stomach the smell of rotting food. Johnny looked down at the bowl of oatmeal he was holding as Candy spoke to him.

“We’re going to the beach for a bit. You’ll be okay here?”

“I thought you were going to clean up the place today.”

Candy shrugged. “It’ll still be here in an hour. Surely you can live with the way things are until then.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“We always have a choice,” said Candy. She spun around to face me. “Wait here and I’ll just go get my bag and stuff.”

She crossed the kitchen and disappeared down the hallway, leaving me alone with Johnny and Sean. I felt awkward standing in the entranceway. I couldn’t think of anything to say. Johnny kept feeding Sean as if I wasn’t there. I cleared my throat.

“Those two guys are still visiting,” I said. “Bobby and Kirk.” Their names had popped into my head. Not that it was any of my business, but it was the only conversation opener I could come up with.

Johnny straightened up in the chair. He stopped the spoonful of oatmeal in mid-air. “I didn’t realize you’d met them.” He turned to look at me. Every time I saw his black eyes, they made me lose my train of thought. He waited while I got my mouth to work.

“I just ran into them the other afternoon. They were in the backyard with Candy and Sean.”

“Ahh.” Johnny turned back around and attempted to put the spoon into Sean’s mouth. Sean held his lips tightly closed and shook his head back and forth, all the while banging the block on the tray. Oatmeal flew from the spoon when the block smacked Johnny’s hand. “Had enough then, little man?” Johnny picked up the bottom of Sean’s bib and wiped away the oatmeal clinging to his face with gentle strokes. “Time to play then.” He looked at me. “They’re leaving soon. Bobby and Kirk. Just friends passing through.” He waited again for me to say something.

“Oh.” I said. Could I get any more brilliant? “Did you know them when you lived in the States?”

“We met Johnny a few years ago when we were involved in the same business venture, isn’t that right, old friend?” I turned. Bobby had walked into the kitchen and joined into the conversation. A cigarette hung out of his mouth and bobbed up and down as he talked. He grabbed a chair on the other side of the table and straddled it so his arms were folded on the back. His afro surrounded his head like a beach ball.

Johnny glanced over. “Where’s Kirk?”

“Sleeping. We drained a twenty-sixer of Jim Beam last night. Feeling a little rough myself.” He scratched his chest. “Bummer.”

Johnny looked at me. “Maybe you’d rather wait outside. Candy won’t be long.”

I had my hand on the doorknob as Candy came back into the kitchen. She was swinging a straw handbag and had put on green granny sunglasses. She’d loosened her hair from the knot at the back of her head, and it hung long and thick on her shoulders.

“All set,” she said.

“Loooking goooood, Mama,” said Bobby. He let out a low whistle.”

“Watch yourself,” said Johnny. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes weren’t.

“Why, jealous?” asked Candy. She stepped closer to the table and ran a hand through Bobby’s afro. “Bobby here’s just being sociable, isn’t that right, sugar?”

“Chill, man,” said Bobby. “Just showing my appreciation to the little hostess.”

Johnny lowered Sean onto the floor. Candy barely glanced at them. She ignored Sean reaching up toward her, his arms wide and his mouth working like a fish.

“All set. We’ll be back soon,” Candy said as she opened the back door. “Try not to miss me.”

“We’ll give it our best shot,” said Johnny as the door closed behind us.

“Hurry back,” called Bobby loud enough so we could hear him through the open window “You know I’ll be here waiting.”

Candy and I didn’t talk as we climbed down the path toward the lake. I could tell she was still angry about whatever was going on between her and Johnny. When we reached the beach, she immediately pulled her red caftan over her head. Underneath was a white bikini. She pulled up a strap that had fallen in a loop down her arm before she started running toward the lake. The water was satin blue, reflecting the colour of the sky.

“Coming in?” she called over her shoulder.

“Maybe later. I’m working on something.”

I wanted to keep writing while ideas were fresh. I didn’t feel much like swimming with her anyhow. If it wasn’t for the article, I would have gone home.

She spent twenty minutes furiously swimming around the bay before coming over to flop down next to me in the sand. A shower of lake water splashed on my legs and book cover. I wiped the book quickly on my shorts, upset that splotches would stain the leather cover. Candy lay flat on her back, not caring about the sand that would work into her hair and cake onto her skin.

“Johnny’s such an ass sometimes,” she said, but she was smiling again. She propped herself up on her elbows so that she was looking at the water. “Why did you come by this morning anyhow?”

“Well, we did make plans….” My voice trailed away. It didn’t seem like a good idea to remind her about what she’d forgotten and the money she owed me. “Anyhow, I’m helping Gideon write a story for a magazine about life in Cedar Lake. I wondered if I could interview you as a newcomer to the lake.”

“An interview? Why, that sounds like fun. You are such a little sugar pie to think of me for your story.”

“You’ve led an interesting life,” I said. It was nice to see her happy again.

“Oh, I could tell you some stories! Why, I was at the Pentagon anti-war demonstration in ’67, putting flowers in the guns of the National Guard. I’m in one of the photos Life magazine printed, not the cover, but still, I was part of history. Flower power. That was a trip. Yeah, I could be in your article as long as you don’t use my real name.” She sat up and wrapped one arm around her legs, pulling her hair away from her face with her other hand. She shifted slightly and stared at me, her eyes wide and unblinking.

“What was it like being there?” I asked. “In D.C.?”

“Oh man. We were about fifty thousand marching across the Memorial Bridge and the troops were all lined up to greet us on the Pentagon steps, like a human barricade to keep us out. We were singing the whole time, trying to drive away the evil spirits. Some tried to get in one of the entrances and the guards threw them down the steps. I stayed the night and got arrested in the morning for picking flowers in Lafayette Park. It was a rush, I can tell you. We were taking on the establishment, making them take notice.”

“I would have given anything to be there too.”

“Yeah, it was worth the trip, but you would have been what, ten years old?”

“Twelve.

“I was at Woodstock too, with Janis. Three days of peace and love and rock and roll. August ’69. We landed in the field in a helicopter but Janis wasn’t cool with the set-up. They had her playing at two in the morning. Still, she gave a bitchin’ show. What I’d give to go back to those days.” She looked at me. “Johnny doesn’t want me talking about this stuff anymore. He says we’re starting fresh in Canada and Sean shouldn’t be contaminated by what’s going on in the States, especially the war.”

“In my article, I could call you Cindy Peters,” I said.

“Cindy Peters. Cool. I like that.”

“Okay then …” I opened my book to a clean page and uncapped my pen. “To start with, why did you choose to spend a summer in Cedar Lake?”

“Johnny chose it. He had good memories of being here as a kid. Said it was a happy retreat from life in the States. He wanted a break from the city and thought Sean could do with a summer in the country, and you know … to get away from the war.”

“So life was hectic and you needed a break?”

“Something like that.”

Candy started rifling through her bag.

“How did the Vietnam War impact your life in the States?”

Candy’s hand, still deep in the bag, stopped moving. She turned her face toward me. “What makes you ask that?”

“It’s just an angle I’m going with. You know, the peace of Cedar Lake in contrast to what’s going on internationally.”

She looked back into her bag and pulled out a cigarette and then a lighter. She lit the cigarette with an unsteady hand before she looked at me and said, “Look, you seem like a nice kid. Can we talk off the record?”

“I guess.”

I closed my book but kept my hand inserted to mark my spot. Gideon would have said there is no off the record, but it wouldn’t feel right if I used something she didn’t want me to make public. I waited while Candy inhaled and held the smoke in her lungs. It shot from her nose in two long white streams.

“Johnny was there. Vietnam. It’s not something he likes to talk about.”

“Did you know him before he went overseas?”

“Johnny was dating my sister. They were supposed to get married.”

“What happened?”

“Frances … my sister, met someone else while he was stationed in Nam. She thought she’d just have this fling until Johnny came back. Hell, she had this fear, pardon me, a damn premonition he was going to be killed over there. She told me often enough anyway. Kind of ironic, in hindsight. He was a fighter pilot and flew over some of the worst areas dropping bombs. Anyhow, Johnny being in danger’s way gave Frances a reason to fool around, at least in her own mind. I know it’s unkind to speak ill of the dead, but Frances wasn’t the kind of girl who could be alone for long.”

“So how did you …”

“End up with Johnny?” Candy took a puff of her cigarette and laughed as she exhaled. “Sean is his son, as you may have guessed, but Frances is the mother. Johnny and I aren’t married. I know you thought we were married, and I kind of liked letting you think that.” She smiled. “Anyhow, Johnny and Frances hooked up briefly after he came back from Nam, before he found out she was seeing someone else. Johnny took off when he found out. When Frances died, I followed him to Canada with the baby. It looks too much like him not to be his.”

“Then you’re not … ?”

“Together? A couple?” Her voice was bitter. “Sometimes yes. Sometimes no. It all depends on Johnny’s mood on a particular day. I can assure you, that he isn’t the man he was before he went to Nam. Something is missing, you know, like he’s been damaged beyond repair.”

I thought of my mom. She’d met him in the restaurant and he’d come looking for her in the store. Worry spread through my veins like water seeping into cracks. “Why don’t you leave?”

“I keep hoping he’ll come to his senses, take a look around and realize I’m the girl for him now that Frances is gone.” Candy started digging in the sand with the toes of one foot. She looked at me and smiled, her lips pulled sideways. “I know it must seem like I’m out of my mind to you. I loved him even when he was with Frances, which I know you think is probably just plain awful, but you can’t control who you fall for. I wish you could, but love doesn’t work that way. Frances was weak and not good enough for him. The better woman is alive and waiting.” She laughed but her eyes were sad. “Maybe I’ll take off soon. Maybe I’ll find love with someone else. Who knows? It’s not like I haven’t had offers. A few of them were even kind of nice.”

“I guess it would be hard for you to leave Sean behind.”

“In some ways, yeah, but it would be wonderful not to be responsible for anyone again. I’m not really wired that way, if you haven’t noticed. If it weren’t for Johnny …” Candy stopped talking and took a long drag of her cigarette before flicking it into the sand where it lay a glowing ember. She watched it for a bit and then lifted her eyes toward the lake. “Thing is. Some things he doesn’t forgive too easily.”

I opened my notebook again and said, “Maybe, I could ask you my questions now, you know, for the interview.”

Candy swiped with the back of her hand at a tear that had trickled halfway down her cheek. She laughed self-consciously before saying, “Fire away. I think it’ll be a kick to be quoted in a magazine like I have something worth sharing with the world. Something for the grandkids to see.”

“I hope the article turns out okay. It’s my first attempt at this kind of writing.”

“I have the utmost confidence. Just don’t write anything bad about me and don’t mention Johnny or Vietnam. He hates newspapers and magazines more than anything. He really is fanatical about our privacy because of Sean.”

“I won’t mention either one of them.”

“That’s good. This’ll just be between you and me, sugar. Our little secret.”

I remembered Gideon’s camera in my bag. “Maybe I could take a picture of you looking at the lake. I could just do a shot from the side so nobody sees your whole face.”

Candy laughed. “You’re one smart kid, you know that? I guess it would be okay. There have to be lots of blonde girls in this world who look just like me if you don’t look too closely.”