Andy woke to the sound of the troop gathering in the quad: boots on gravel, a low muttering as two cadets passed outside the cabin, the cushioned slap of a door against its frame. With Kate curled against her side, Andy shrugged down deeper under the blanket, thankful she wasn’t on morning duty today. Kate stirred slightly in Andy’s arms, pushed her head back into the thin pillow and slept on. Andy smiled, savouring the feeling of being cocooned in bed with Kate, their bodies touching at every point. She listened to the low, commanding tones of Meyers’s voice, his words blurred and indistinct. The sound of feet in unison on gravel signalled to Andy the cadets were off on their run. A minute later and camp was dark and quiet again.
Superintendent Heath had left four days ago. The first night and the following morning had been almost awkward, the troop walking on eggshells around the instructors, waiting for the next step in punishment, the tighter restrictions, the lecture. But Kate, Andy, and the instructors had all decided to carry on, business as usual. Let Shipman take his punishment and stress about his last chance. The instructors needed to move forward with the assumption of good behaviour. Anticipating the next fuck-up was getting them nowhere.
Kate had cleared Shipman physically, so he was now four days into his punishment. Every meal he was on mess clean-up, a task he clearly didn’t enjoy but did without comment. He seemed no worse for wear from his night time excursion. Petit and Frances on the other hand, stretched out their sick story, Frances even losing a day in the converted infirmary. Kate said it sounded like a stomach bug, but she had no way to confirm it. She recommended a restricted diet, a day off to recuperate and heavy fluids to recover lost electrolytes. Frances was back after a day, his spirits clearly much higher but still managing to look like he’d been the one up all night, not Shipman.
Andy pulled her thoughts back to today’s tasks: the list of chores, the never-ending grocery list, the urine samples Kate was going to collect and they would drive into Kamloops later this afternoon. Andy made a mental note to check-in with Finns, Jack, and her parents while she was in cell range. She wanted to update Finns, see if Jack had made any headway on the perplexing columns of numbers they’d found over a week ago. Andy also wanted to check in with her parents to see if she had a new baby niece or nephew. She also had a list of items Kurtz wanted her to pick up in town. Andy tracked it all once, then twice, making sure everything was still on her mental list.
“You’re thinking too loudly,” Kate said, her voice muffled by the pillow and her own sleepiness. Andy hadn’t known she was awake. Smiling, Andy kissed Kate’s shoulder and pulled her in closer.
“Did I wake you up?”
“Mmm hmm,” Kate said sleepily, rolling over onto her back. Andy studied her face, the shape of her lips, the faint lines from the pillow on her cheek, her eyes still puffy from sleep. She was perfect. She was beautiful. “Are you thinking about bringing me a coffee?” Kate ran her fingers over Andy’s face like she’d been studying it, too. “You better be.”
Andy laughed, propped herself up on one elbow and leaned over and kissed Kate. It was a slow kiss, an easy kiss. It was an everything-is-right-with-the-world kind of kiss and Andy felt her own body sigh and relax. They pulled apart slowly.
“Are we going into town today?” Kate said. Andy could see her body was beginning to wake up, her brain already planning, even before her first coffee. “Is that what you were really thinking about?”
“Yes, just going over my list.” Andy gave Kate one last quick kiss before pulling back the covers. Kate groaned her disapproval but got up also. As they dressed, Andy went over her list out loud, adding in a stop at the pharmacy when Kate requested it. She was running low on some basics and wanted to pick up a few things to see if she could get Frances’ stomach problems sorted out.
“So it’s okay that I’m leaving camp?” Kate said, her brow furrowing slightly as she zipped up her fleece. “No one will be on-site.”
“The cadets are in class all day, no training exercises. It will be fine.” Andy pulled her long, blonde hair back into a low ponytail, wrapping the elastic around four times and pulling it tight.
They walked in silence to the kitchen cabin, the sun climbing up over the mountain behind them, the sky a confirmed grey in the distance over town. Andy wondered idly which would win out, betting silently on the clouds. She’d lived in BC most of her life. Betting on the clouds was almost a sure thing.
The kitchen cabin was warm, Trokof greeting them with a soft good morning and Les nodding her hello while stifling a yawn behind her coffee mug. Kate brought their coffees to the table while Andy made two slices of toast for Kate and mixed instant oatmeal for herself. They had a routine now out here at Camp Depot. Everything felt familiar already.
As Andy stirred her oatmeal, waiting for it to cool, she kept herself on track and listed her priorities in her head. She didn’t want to get comfortable out here. This wasn’t a vacation for herself or the instructors. Certainly not for the cadets. She thought about her initial meeting with Lincoln, how she had to convince him giving the troop some space and not having any other plan was a viable approach to this dilemma. Andy was still convinced this was the best way to go but measuring their success or failure was difficult and intangible. Andy was vaguely aware that Les and Kate were talking, laughing about something over their coffees as they did most mornings. She kept thinking, following each thought to its most logical conclusion. Finally she put her mug down with more force than she intended, causing Kate, Les, and Trokof to look over at her.
Andy used the break in conversation. “Does anyone know what the weather is supposed to do later today?”
“Chance of rain this morning, clear by this afternoon, I think,” Trokof offered, sounding tired. Andy looked more closely at him, wondering if it was the overhead light in the cabin or if Trokof looked a little grey.
“What are you thinking, boss?” Les said to Andy.
“I know the cadets are in class all day and Kate and I will be in town, but I was thinking the cadets could chop some wood this afternoon and get us ready for a campfire. They’ve had a good couple of days, let’s reward them.”
“Sounds good to me,” Les said, picking up her coffee mug.
Andy turned her attention to Trokof, wondering what he’d have to say about a special reward for what should be some basic good behaviour.
“What are you thinking, Sgt. Wyles?” Trokof said.
“I want to see what happens when we give the cadets a chance to relax around us. We get to see a little of that at dinner, but only for half an hour or so. Let’s give them some time and space and an environment where they have the chance to actually interact with each other and us.”
“We aren’t trying to make friends with the cadets,” Trokof said slowly. “That’s a mistake, I think.”
Andy shook her head. “No, you’re right. That’s not what I meant. I…” Andy stopped, wanting to choose the right words, to make her intentions clear.
“They’re starting to look to you, to all of you, to see how to act,” Kate said, her hands wrapped around her coffee mug. “This,” she continued, indicating Andy’s campfire idea with a nod of her head, “could be a good time to show them what it looks like to be a cop, both on-duty and off-duty, individually and as a crew. They’re sort of blank slates right now.”
Andy gave Kate a brief, warm smile when their eyes met.
“But they should be getting that from their peers,” Trokof said, his brow still furrowed. “That’s part of what Depot tries to do, pairing up newer troops with older troops. It’s supposed to be similar to a sibling relationship, the older siblings protecting and guiding the younger.”
Knowing Kate’s history with losing her younger sister, Andy’s heart ached to see that Kate needed to stop to breathe through the force of the hurt. Then Kate answered Trokof with a question.
“But do they? Has Troop 18 ever connected with another troop on that level?” Kate said, her voice even. She kept her eyes on Trokof, though she seemed very aware Andy was watching her closely.
Trokof paused then shook his head slowly.
“Never,” Les said. “Troop 18 has always been on their own.”
Kate nodded but didn’t add anything else.
“We are what they’ve got right now,” Andy said. “And right now we think they’re doing well. Let’s show them that.”
Andy finished off her oatmeal as Trokof worked through the implications of their actions. He was careful, Andy knew that already. But he was also motivated to do right by this troop. He wanted to give them every chance to prove themselves without overstepping the professional boundary of teacher and student, leader and subordinate.
“Okay, we’ll try it,” Trokof said. “But whoever heard of a campfire without beer?”
Zeb walked in just then, catching only the last part of the conversation.
“Someone mentioned beer?” he said hopefully, heading directly to the coffee.
“In your dreams, Zeb,” Les said, laughing.
In the midst of the commotion, Kate drained the last of her coffee and got up from the table, clearing her dishes to the kitchen. With a quick, almost apologetic look at Andy, she slipped out the front of the kitchen cabin. Andy sat for a moment, knowing somehow Kate didn’t need her to follow, fighting the instinct to go anyway and make sure she was okay. In that moment, Andy heard her mother’s voice in her head saying trust her, Kate told you what she needed, so trust her. Andy took a sip of her coffee, feeling the hot, strong brew in her bloodstream already. As she sat listening to the instructors talk about the day ahead, Andy realized she did trust Kate. For the first time ever in their relationship, Andy had the confidence Kate would take care of herself. And she had to let her. That was the shift: Andy had to let Kate take care of herself.
“She’s very insightful, your Dr. Morrison,” Trokof said, catching Andy’s eye while Zeb and Les bickered good-naturedly over their breakfast.
Andy smiled at the drill instructor. “Yes, she is.”
“Then the RCMP is lucky to have her,” Trokof said decisively, making Andy smile again. “And Camp Depot is lucky our original medic wasn’t much of an outdoors person.”
Andy laughed and finished the last of her coffee before taking her plate to the kitchen. She sorted through the food stocks in the back pantry and made a few last minute changes to her list, adding chocolate chip cookies for Les and The Vancouver Sun for Trokof. She refused Zeb his forty ouncer of rye whiskey. Then she pushed open the kitchen, noticing the clouds had covered camp now and a very light, barely noticeable rain had begun.
She surveyed the empty camp and checked her watch. The cadets would be back in ten minutes or so and would need time to shower and change before Kate could collect the weekly urine samples. Close to an hour until they could leave, Andy estimated. Going on instinct, Andy took a walk through camp to find Kate. She forced herself to walk slowly, smelling old, wet cedar as she passed the hedges and climbed up into the clearing.
Kate was sitting on the same log where Andy had watched the cadets running their first aid scenarios. She was looking up toward the mountain where the sun was blanketed by layers and streaks of grey. Andy approached slowly, wanting to give Kate time if she still needed it. Kate turned when she heard Andy approach. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she gave a small smile. Andy sat next to her, hip to hip, and Kate leaned into her automatically. Again Andy felt a sense of relief. In the past, Kate would have been giving reassurance, not seeking it. They sat in silence, watching bands of misty rain descend over the tree line. Kate slipped her arm through Andy’s, and Andy leaned her cheek against the top of Kate’s head and waited.
“You’re trying really hard not to ask how I am, aren’t you?” Kate said, and Andy was relieved to hear a hint of humour in her voice. And steadiness, even now Andy could sense her steadiness.
“Yes.” Andy pressed a kiss into Kate’s hair.
“Right now I’m trying to convince myself it’s okay to feel sad.” Kate took a breath. “I hate feeling sad,” she added, and her voice shook slightly. “Angry, self-recriminating, guilty, numb…. I can handle all those. Sad, I’m not so good at.”
Andy gave her a moment, knowing she didn’t need to say anything right now. She turned Kate’s hand over and traced the barely visible scars on her palms with a light touch. She had always been amazed by what Kate had done to find her sister in a slum house in Winnipeg after a panicked, late-night phone call. It had been bull-headed and stubborn and entirely too dangerous, yes. But also brave.
Andy knew now what she hadn’t known the first time she’d read the report in Kate’s file. Kate was fiercely loyal and protective. Andy worried Kate cast that net too wide sometimes, that she overcompensated for having let her sister Sarah slip away. But that was who Kate was, and Andy had to love her for it. With that thought, Andy lifted Kate’s hand and kissed her palm before lowering it to her lap again.
“Did you know she’s buried just outside the city?” Kate asked suddenly. “Sarah. We brought her home. My parents couldn’t stand the thought of having her in Winnipeg.”
Andy did know that Sarah Elise Morrison was buried in Burnaby’s Mount Forest Cemetery. She’d read it in the report. But she’d kept it to herself, knowing the story was Kate’s to share. Kate tightened her grip on Andy’s hand.
“Would you come with me, when we get home?” Kate said. “My mom and I took Tyler this fall, but I’d like you to come with me.”
“Yes.” Sometimes the shortest answers said the most.
Kate smiled, a genuine smile. It was tinged with sadness, with a level of heartache Andy couldn’t really imagine. But she did smile.
“I should get set up,” Kate said, standing and brushing the damp wood from the back of her jeans. “Sixteen urine samples aren’t going to collect themselves,” she added wryly.
Andy laughed quietly and stood also, giving Kate’s hand one final squeeze.
*
The sky cleared early in the afternoon, exactly as the weather report promised. It had seemed unlikely as Andy and Kate steadily moved through their list in Kamloops, ducking their heads against the rain. But as they exited the grocery store, each pushing a full cart, the sun shone thinly through the clouds. And when they pulled back into camp, everything gleamed brightly in the last, winter-thin rays of light.
As Andy and Kate hauled boxes and bags down the soggy path, recruiting cadets to help as they passed, Andy sensed a difference in the mood at Camp Depot. The troop was spread across the quad. Some were chopping or hauling wood, some were making their way back up the path to unload the Yukon, and Andy could hear a multitude of voices in the kitchen. It felt like Friday, the end of the work week, everyone laid back and easy with the thought of two days off ahead of them.
Andy challenged herself to walk the fine line of engaging and participating with the troop tonight, while also remembering to observe. They were still trying to achieve an outcome and as the hydro pole hummed its way into light, announcing that another night had descended on camp, Andy felt the weight of that unknown outcome pressing down on her.
Dinner consisted of hot dogs on the fire, industrial-sized bags of chips, and veggies and dip. The cadets carried the picnic tables across the quad, forming a circle around the large fire-pit. Zeb was carefully constructing a large-based pyramid, choosing just the right size and shape of log from the pile Prewitt-Hayes brought over. A cheer went up as the first flame of fire burned through the paper and kindling and caught in a perfect orange-tipped arc up towards the pale navy of the evening sky. Andy, sitting by herself on one of the picnic tables, caught herself sending a silent prayer up with the flame. Best possible outcome, let us see the best possible outcome for this troop.
“May I sit with you, oh fearless leader?” Les said.
“Sure, pull up a bench,” Andy said, waving at the empty tables around her. Les sat and pulled over the nearest bowl of chips.
“Kate said she’d be right out. She’s pulling a branch-sized sliver out of Shandly’s paw.”
They sat in silence, watching the troop. Andy took a handful of vegetables as the tray was passed around, and she chewed on a thick wedge of bell pepper, thinking someone got lazy with the chopping.
“You know, I’ve never seen them like this,” Les said, cupping a handful of chips in one palm, watching the troop.
“Like what?”
“Normal. Have you noticed that Prewitt-Hayes isn’t counting her flock? That the troop is split up into at least five groups around camp right now? And they’re laughing, Andy. Troop 18 isn’t known for laughing.”
Andy turned her attention back to the cadets. Prewitt-Hayes and Zeb were still discussing the fire, the young cadet attentive and interested and for the first time seemingly unaware of the exact location of the rest of her troop. The rest of the troop was scattered, some grabbing handfuls of chips, others using pocket knives to sharpen sticks for the hot dogs. Laughter came from the kitchen cabin as the cadets brought plates of hot dogs and bags of buns to the campfire. Andy felt the absence of tension, there was no heightened response as someone moved or spoke. There was no alarm. That’s what she’d been sensing about Troop 18 since they’d shown up at camp over a week ago. They always resonated with a deep sense of alarm.
As Andy and Les watched the troop, another cabin door opened and closed and Kate and Krista Shandly walked down the stairs. Kate was talking in low tones to the young cadet, who somehow managed to look even younger out of her cadet uniform. They approached the campfire, and Kate stopped at the edge of the circle, obviously wanting to finish what she was saying before they got too close.
Shandly listened quietly, looking down at the ground. Then, she nodded once, meeting Kate’s eyes with a shy, nervous smile. Then they both surveyed the action around camp. Shandly caught Andy and Les watching her and ducked her head, blushing. Andy allowed her thoughts about the young cadet to surface, but she held back on judgement, watching as Shandly left for the kitchen cabin and Kate came to join Andy and Les.
“How’s our baby cadet doing?” Les said, wiping greasy chip crumbs from her hands.
Kate shrugged and grabbed a handful of chips, then on second thought, she shoved a carrot stick into her mouth before sitting down.
“Shandly’ll be fine, just has to keep it clean for a few days. She’s just starting to get that ‘I’m too tough for a doctor’ thing. Do you guys select for that trait or something?”
Les leaned back and laughed, banging her palm down on the table. Andy laughed too, knowing Kate included her in that cop trait. But she said it good-naturedly and even with a hint of appreciation.
The three of them watched the action of the campfire in companionable silence. Zeb was still poking at the fire, a thick, soot-covered stick in one hand. It was the first time Andy had seen him entirely focused on one thing for any extended period of time. She guessed Zeb was the type who wouldn’t leave his fire post all night and would take it as a personal insult if anyone tried to mess with it.
“I’m going to see what’s happening in the kitchen,” Les said, standing up and grabbing another handful of chips. “Save my spot, okay ladies?”
Andy got the sense Kate had something to say but she waited it out.
“You should find some time to talk to Cadet Shandly tonight,” Kate said, her words vague and her tone the kind of neutral that let Andy know she needed to pay attention.
“About anything in particular?”
Kate just turned and smiled at Andy, shaking her head a little to let Andy know she wasn’t going to share.
“Fine, make me work,” Andy mumbled.
Kate laughed and bumped Andy’s knee with her own. Andy suddenly wished they were alone, that she could pull Kate onto her lap and kiss her from her ear down to her collarbone, until Kate’s laugh became a moan. Andy shook her head and let the thought slip away as her heart returned to its normal rhythm. Kate looked up and smiled. Andy fought the urge to touch her. Friday night feel or not, they were at work.
Les made her way back over to them, and Andy had to admit she was thankful for the distraction.
“Kurtz just radioed up to camp,” Les said, sitting down. “The lab called Staff Sgt. Finns’s office who faxed the message up to Kurtz. All our cadets peed clean.”
Andy nodded once quickly in acknowledgement, though a sense of relief flooded her body.
“Did they fax over the report?” Kate said.
“Kurtz said it’s in an envelope with Andy’s name on it in the front hall. I’m glad they’re clean. Again. I stress out every time, wondering who it might be.”
“How prevalent are steroids at Depot?” Kate said.
Les looked at Andy quickly, her mouth hardening into a line of defensiveness. Then Les sighed and looked back at the cadets jostling for position around the fire so they could cook their hotdogs.
“Not prevalent, but performance enhancing drugs have a history at Depot. A few cadets always think they can beat the system and try drugs instead of working their asses off to pass the PARE.”
Andy held her silence. She’d considered the possibility it was steroids when Lincoln first told her about the case. But not enough added up and everyone in Troop 18 had passed their PARE. Andy hadn’t known any cadets who used drugs when she was at Depot, but the rumours had been rampant. She’d assumed she was included in those rumours. She’d never failed at the PARE, not even during the training. That had pissed off a lot of people.
“What are the urine tests testing for?” Andy said to Kate, keeping her voice low and her eyes on the troop.
“A basic toxicology screen looks for the presence or absence of both legal and illegal substances,” Kate said, her voice falling into the even, professional cadence that told Andy she was accessing the giant vault of information she was able to carry around in her head. “So it tests for over the counter-medication as well as alcohol, narcotics, anti-psychotics, marijuana, amphetamines, PCPs, barbituates, GHBs, Rohypnol…all the bad stuff. Any of that will show up in a tox screen.”
“But not quantity.”
“Right. Urine tests detect presence or absence. Only blood work can confirm levels of any substance detected in the blood. And there would either have to be consent to have blood drawn for a tox screen or to declare the case emergent enough to bypass consent.”
“What if I just don’t want it to be drugs?” Les said. “What if I’m so afraid it’s drugs that I’m overlooking something or explaining it away just so it’s not?”
“Best outcome,” Kate said, repeating Andy’s question to Sergeant Trokof from days earlier. “What do you see as the best possible outcome for the troop, Les?”
Les didn’t say anything at first, and Andy started to wonder if she was going to answer the question. If she even had an answer.
“I just want them to be happy. Even if they don’t all make it through and become Mounties. I just want to know that they’re happy.” Les paused, looked back to Kate and Andy. “I know, I’m such a mom.”
Kate laughed and even Andy had to smile. “Are you missing your kids by any chance, Sgt. Manitou?”
“They’re small, messy devils, that’s what they are,” Les grumbled, grabbing another handful of chips. “And I miss every one of them. My husband included.”
They watched as the first wave of cadets handed off their roasting sticks to the second wave, passing the inevitable jokes about charbroiled wieners and hot sausages.
“What about you two? Are kids in the plan or what?” Les said.
Andy felt her stomach tighten.
“We haven’t talked about it,” Kate said lightly with a small, knowing smile to Andy. Andy focused on that smile, on the seemingly sympathetic look in Kate’s eyes. “But Andy’s about to become an aunt again any day now,” she added, smoothly diverting the topic.
Les gave a delighted sound, jumping on this piece of information with a ton of questions. Andy listened but allowed Kate to answer for her. She was too caught up in trying to figure out Kate’s answer and the implications behind that look. Andy loved her niece and nephew. She loved how different they were from each other, how smart and how fun. She had been honoured when her best friend Nic and her partner Erika has asked her to be godparent and guardian to their son, Max. Andy had known him since the day he was born and was so incredibly proud that she could watch him grow up and see who that chubby, smiling boy would become.
But Andy had never wanted her own kids. She couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t picture how it fit into her life. She couldn’t understand the compromise of work and family, how to stretch the hours in the day to do both to the standard she thought each deserved. As she listened to Kate and Les discussing the pitfalls of raising teenagers, Andy had a brief moment of panic. She really didn’t know what Kate’s thoughts were on having kids. This clearly wasn’t the time to discuss it, but they should. Not now and maybe not for a long time. When Kate was ready.
Andy consciously switched her attention from Kate and Les back to the cadets. Foster concentrated on rotating his hot dog over the flames at just the right speed, clearly attempting to get a perfectly even char. Andy watched as Mancini, who had three hot dogs on one stick and seemed to grow quickly bored of roasting, accidentally bumped into Foster on his way to the condiments. Foster’s stick dipped into the fire, coming up covered in ash. Foster’s whole body changed. He went rigid with unchecked anger, his face becoming a mask of outright fury, his free hand automatically clenched into a fist, his body turning in one swift movement.
Startled by his response, Andy began to rise from her seat, thinking she was going to have to break up a fight. But Foster checked it, the change to his body so incredibly rapid that Andy had to wonder if she’d imagined the anger in the first place. Andy continued moving toward the fire, still wanting to hear the exchange between the two cadets.
“Sorry man…dude, sorry, it was an accident,” Mancini was saying, holding his hands up. He’d clearly seen Foster’s reaction and was attempting to placate the pissed-off cadet. Andy figured Mancini would be the type to snap if he got any push-back. But Foster had changed his attitude, his face back to neutral, his body still tight but his fists no longer ready to punch.
“Never get between a native and his hot dog,” Foster said, his face still blank, his tone deadpan.
Mancini laughed nervously, like he couldn’t really tell if Foster was joking or not. Foster let it stretch out before finally offering a small, sidewise grin. “I’m messing with you. Grab me another dog on your way back.”
Mancini relaxed and offered Foster one of his own which started a joking, heated debate about standards of hot dog roasting. Andy, passing the cadets now, thought back to Les’s comment from earlier in the evening. Everything about this exchange was normal. They were showing the typical extremes of camaraderie, the expected spikes and dips of annoyance and acceptance. The most alarming thing about Troop 18 had always been their unnatural flatness.
This is what Andy tracked over the evening, relieved she’d finally found some way to frame what was so off-putting about the way Troop 18 had been presenting themselves. The troop clustered in small groups, the boundaries between them easily morphing to grow larger or smaller as people joined and left. A few dyads had broken off, the angled bodies and rapid verbal exchange of the cadets making it difficult, but not impossible for someone else to join.
Shipman had his guitar out, strumming pieces of familiar music that floated freely across the quad into the cold night air. The instructors were spread throughout the group. Les and Kate were sitting closer to the fire now, still talking and laughing as they ate. Meyers was talking to Awad and Hellman, his movements more animated than Andy had ever seen, clearly enjoying telling his story. Zeb, as Andy had predicted, had not left the fire all evening.
Only Trokof was missing. He’d come out briefly, refused the offer of a roasting stick and had disappeared not too much later into the kitchen. The troop had changed when the drill instructor had been with them, quieter and more tense. But that was to be expected when the guy who handed out mod-b push-ups for the most minor transgression was walking around.
Andy had just decided to go check-in with the sergeant when she saw Shandly look up from the group she was talking to. Her gaze stopped on Andy, who smiled slightly, causing the young cadet to duck her head then return the smile before excusing herself from the group and walking deliberately over to the abandoned food table. Andy quietly joined Shandly.
It was cold away from the fire. Andy could feel the damp bite of the near-winter air against her face. Shandly was cleaning up, putting remnants of hot dog buns together in a bag and twisting them shut. Andy approached the table, waiting for Shandly to acknowledge her before taking a seat. Shandly’s movements were quick and nervous, as if she wanted to keep her hands busy but was afraid she would run out of things to do if she moved too fast. Andy held her silence, waiting to see if Shandly would start the conversation. When it was clear she wouldn’t or couldn’t, Andy decided to help her out.
“Dr. Morrison thought you might want to speak to me,” Andy said as an opener, keeping her body language and her expression open.
Shandly nodded and started stacking plates, trying to determine which were clean and which were dirty. After a moment, she abandoned the sorting and stacked them all together in a tall pile. Task completed and nothing left to do, Shandly finally sat down beside Andy.
“I wanted to talk to you about what it’s like…” Shandly started to say, her words jumbled and soft-spoken. She took a breath, made fists out of her hands then spread them wide and clasped them together before looking up at Andy. “What it’s like for you…and what it might be like for me…to be an openly gay police officer.”
Andy did not congratulate herself on having guessed right. She simply let this piece of information become fact and added it to the profile she had in her head of Cadet Krista Shandly, age twenty-one from Gander, Newfoundland.
Andy considered what she wanted to say, trying to isolate exactly what Shandly was trying to get at. Until she knew, Andy decided to focus only on her own experience.
“I got posted to Ottawa right out of Depot and did my six month field placement there before getting posted to Vancouver. I’ve been here ever since. Vancouver is generally a gay-friendly city, and it’s got a large lesbian population.” Andy paused to check that Shandly wasn’t bored with a personal history lesson. But Shandly seemed rapt and Andy had to wonder how many gay officers she’d had the chance to talk to. If any.
“My rookie year was the hardest. More than one asshole wanted to use my sexual orientation against me. But everyone’s rookie year is the hardest, Shandly. People either ignore you or try to beat you down and show you you’re not going to make it unless you toughen up, fall in line, and follow orders like a good little rookie should. I decided early on that being gay was only a weapon in someone else’s hand if I let it be a weapon. And I imagine Constable Zeb has drilled into you the first rule of engagement…”
“Always protect your weapon,” Shandly said, finishing the sentence quietly. Andy nodded but didn’t add anything more. Shandly looked out into the dark. A burst of laughter behind them seemed to shake Shandly from her thoughts and she looked up at Andy, pushing her blunt-cut brown hair out of her eyes where it immediately fell back again. Andy had known a lot of women who had cut their hair at Depot, mainly because they were sick of push-ups every time a stray hair fell out of place and touched the collar of their shirt. Andy hadn’t, she’d refused. For the first time ever, she braided her hair, pinned it up against the back of her neck, and hair-sprayed the shit out of it. Five days a week. For six months.
“So if I survive Depot and my rookie year, it might get easier?” Shandly said, still staring out into the night.
“That depends on you. And some of it depends on where you end up and where you want to go,” Andy said, not willing to make any promises. Shandly didn’t seem to have much of a tough shell, and being a police officer was mentally and physically exhausting work. “May I ask you a question?” Andy said and Shandly nodded shyly. “Why did you decide to become a cop?”
This apparently was an easy answer. Shandly sat up a little straighter. “I was just a kid when the planes hit the Twin Towers in New York. A couple dozen trans-Atlantic planes were diverted to Gander, so our little town almost doubled in size in half a day. Everyone was so freaking scared, no one knew what was going on, but everyone wanted to help. I went down to the airport with my parents in our van. We figured we could house a family or two. It was chaos. People crying, yelling, lining up for phones, huddled around TVs trying to get news.
“The cops were trying to organize things and keep everyone calm but most of them didn’t know what to do. Then one officer found a ladder and stood in the middle of the lobby, started waving his hands above his head. It was so bizarre that eventually everyone got quiet. And he told the group that everyone was going to get news as it came in. They were setting up phones so everyone was going to get a chance to make phone calls, and they were lining up housing so everyone would have somewhere to stay and something to eat. He told them that even though their hearts were scared, they should fill their bellies and warm their bodies so they were ready when the next stage came. And the community of Gander would be there for them, whatever they needed.”
Shandly stopped, seeming to realize how long she’d been talking. But she carried on. “He wasn’t even the senior officer, now that I think about it. But he just figured out what needed to be done. And he totally changed the tone of this mass of people. Even as a kid I could see that. So…I want to do that, I think I’ll be good at that.” Shandly finished, looking back down again at her hands.
Andy had asked a lot of people this question, and she’d answered it herself more times than she could count. But Andy wasn’t sure she’d ever heard a more succinct answer.
“Do you want to end up back in Newfoundland eventually?”
“All Newfies want to go home,” Shandly said, but it seemed like an automatic response, ingrained. Andy didn’t believe her for a second as the look she gave Shandly made her disbelief clear. Shandly seemed to flush slightly but only added to her answer. “It would be good for other kids…other girls….to have a role model, I think. I wish I’d had one growing up. Gander isn’t the most diverse town,” she added, somewhat bitterly.
Not a good reason to go home, Andy thought to herself. With that attitude, Shandly’s best intentions had the potential to backfire.
“I don’t give out advice very often, Cadet Shandly, but here’s mine. Don’t rush home. Go where you’re posted, learn everything you can during those six months, then see what offers you get and what kind of postings are available. There are a lot of ways you can have an impact, so go and find out what those are before you make any decisions about going home. It’s an opportunity. Use it.”
Shandly nodded slowly. “Thanks, Sgt. Wyles. I really appreciate this.”
Before Andy could accept the thanks, a roar of raucous laughter echoed around camp, and both the cadet and Andy turned around. Shipman was acting out some incident, flailing his arms above his head in an exaggerated pantomime, making the cadets and instructors gathered around the campfire laugh even harder. As she looked around the assembled group, Andy saw Cadet Prewitt-Hayes staring intensely, questioningly at Shandly. Beside her, Shandly dipped her head in acknowledgement.
“You’re making Cadet Prewitt-Hayes nervous, talking to me,” Andy said. A statement, not a question.
“No, she knows what we’re talking about,” Shandly said, then seemed to realize how that sounded, and her eyes grew round and she shrunk back slightly.
“So you cleared the topic with her first,” Andy added in quietly. She tried to keep any accusation or judgement out of her tone, but she had to make clear to the young cadet that she knew how this troop functioned. She could see they had a system, even if she didn’t yet know what the system was attempting to accomplish.
“We…yes, I did…but just…” Shandly stumbled over her words, clearly nervous now. Andy said nothing, just continued looking at the cadet. “It’s not what you think,” Shandly concluded desperately. One of the worst things she could have said.
“Tell me what I think, Cadet Shandly,” Andy said.
Shandly just shook her head and looked over her shoulder, obviously wanting to escape to the safety of her troop.
Andy wasn’t ready to let Shandly off the hook but then she heard a sound of hurried movement behind them. The laughter had ceased, and people were talking in low voices. Shandly was looking across the quad.
“Oh, no…” Shandly said very quietly, almost defeated. Then with a quick, blank look at Andy, Shandly joined her troop.
Andy stood also and surveyed the night time scene. The majority of the cadets and instructors were still around the campfire, many of them now on their feet looking back across the quad at the cabins. Andy saw Cadet Foster walking swiftly towards two figures moving in the dark shadow thrown by the bright light of the cabins. Even from this distance, Andy could make out Petit’s hulking figure. Someone else seemed to be leaning on him. Andy started to move toward them, sensing the unnatural silence in the group, the tension stealing over Camp Depot in a thick fog.
Andy walked quickly toward the cadets, watching as Frances cursed and pushed off Petit. Foster arrived next and seemed to deliberately step in beside Frances, blocking him from Andy’s view. More people advanced from the dark, forming a quieted, tense semi-circle around the trio. Petit made another grab for Frances as he keeled far to the right, but Frances shrugged it off, spitting angry words at his troop mates.
Andy finally got a proper view of the scene. Frances was swaying on his feet. He took a step forward, stumbled, and Petit grabbed the back of his sweatshirt and yanked him back and up. It would have been funny in any other situation, but not now. Not with Petit looking desperate, Foster looking furious, and Cadet Jacob Frances looking all the world like he was drunk.
Frances seemed to register Andy’s presence, then slowly scanned the crowd that had assembled behind her. He paled in the harsh orange light, then he twisted in Petit’s grip, took a few steps between the cabins, and threw up.