6

Molly the nose decided on a whim to visit her sister living in Calgary, and she suggested Della and Stacey go with her to visit for three days. You can’t keep a kid in a small town forever, she warned. If you do, they’ll grow up thinking that’s all there is. Most of the young people in this town move away as soon as they can. It’s their only hope.

Della could see her point. She told all her babysitting parents ahead of time she would not be available on Friday, and that would give her a three-day weekend of escape. She felt guilty explaining things because she’d never taken a day off, except for weekends, in three years of babysitting. But Stacey was starting kindergarten in the fall, and she’d heard about Calgary. Someone told her the city was almost as big as New York, and she hoped they could go to the zoo.

Molly the Nose didn’t drive at all, so that meant Della needed the car. Sage suggested they take the bus, but Molly the Nose said the bus took forever and would cut into their trip. Why isn’t Daddy coming? Stacey asked, and Della told her this was a girls’ weekend away and men weren’t invited. It’s good for men to be alone occasionally, she said. They take things for granted otherwise.

Della needed a break from everything around the house, Sage in particular. It took months, but they finally got a new TV, ordered from Sears and delivered as a peace offering meant to sweep away the past transgressions for good. Drive carefully on that highway, Sage said, handing her the keys. Some maniacs out there don’t give a damn. And check the oil as soon as you get there. It burns a little oil. He opened the hood and showed her where to find the dipstick. Della watched with mild interest. She would get a gas jockey to check the oil once she got to Calgary.

Della dropped Sage at work and left in the morning light on an adventure that, now she was on it, felt long overdue. She left two frozen dinners in the freezer and reminded him that Saturday was vacuuming day if he didn’t have plans.

After a year of studying, Sage had earned the right to be a first aid attendant at the mine, and he had worked shift work and weekends for the last few months, but with Emery on holidays for the next two weeks, Sage had his day shift. When he got home on Friday, he showered and sat in front of the TV to eat supper. The TV was bigger than their last one, but somehow the colour didn’t look as good. He had a beer to wash things down and smoked dope and sat by himself to do some thinking. Nothing interesting came to mind, so after nine he walked to the pub, thinking maybe some of his co-workers would still be there. Most of the fellas at work went hunting and fishing. Fishing he might like. It would be better than shooting something, and he didn’t fancy being a man who owned a gun. He might run into someone who would show him the ropes, and sure enough he ran into Bart Sanderson, the accountant at the mine, and listened to fishing stories pour out of the man’s mouth one after another until none of them seemed plausible. Landing a twenty-inch Cutthroat or a thirty-inch Bull Trout with a dry fly is better than sex any day, he said. Sage heard Bart was married for a few years, but he wasn’t anymore. Maybe for him the sentiment had some truth.

Before he knew it, no one else sat at the bar, and the bartender had cashed out and gone home. You’re a late-nighter, Selma said. She busied herself scrubbing the bar and loading the huge dishwasher. Here, she said. It’s too late to legally sell you any beer, but this one’s on the house. She passed him a beer and leaned against the bar, her head in her hands, and stared into his face.

Thank you, Sage said. I won’t keep you. You have to make your way home.

You don’t have to worry about me. I live close by. She pulled up some chairs and turned them upside down on the tables so Sage got up to help. You’re a real gentleman. You know that? Not like most of the people that hang around here.

I don’t know much about you, he said. About your past I mean.

You a man who likes to hear good news stories or bad news stories?

Good news, I guess.

Well that settles it then. You don’t want to hear anything about Selma Divjak.

Once the chairs were off the floor, Selma emptied her tip jar onto the bar, then added it up and put half into an envelope and slid it under the cash drawer of the till. That’s the bartender’s half, she said. He trusts me to divide it equally. Most of the time I do.

You live close by?

Sure do. I live upstairs. Come on, I’ll show you.

Sage finished his beer, and Selma put his glass in the dishwasher and started the machine. She checked the back door, and at the main door, she turned off the lights except for one that cast a blue tinge over the bar and made it look more welcoming somehow. It smelled like a bar, but it looked like heaven.

They walked around to the back of the building and up a set of stairs. Sage had seen the stairs before but hadn’t thought at all about where they led. When they got to the top of the stairs, Selma leaned against the door with her shoulder and he followed her inside.

You don’t lock up?

The lock doesn’t work. Most people assume the door is locked, so I don’t worry about it.

It’s cozy the way you’ve got it. Sage didn’t know what else to say about the old couch covered with a grey blanket and cushions all over the floor. He’d never seen so many cushions in one place except maybe at a store that sold cushions. A small white fridge and stove squatted on either side of the sink, and only a ratty poster of JFK hung on the wall. He couldn’t see the bedroom from where he stood, but if she owned a TV or radio, that had to be where she kept them. He noticed that all the dishes were washed and sitting in the drainboard, ready to be put away.

This place could use a few windows, he said.

They don’t charge much for an apartment with only one window, she said. I never drink on the job, but I treat myself to a nightcap before I go to bed. Care to join me?

Sage said he thought that would be all right. She never asked him what he wanted or gave him a choice of drinks, but she turned away from him and leaned over the sink and pulled two clean glasses from the cupboard, even though similar ones rested on the drainboard ready to go. Sage walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She turned to face him. I want you to start at the top and work your way down, she said. I want you to take your time.