Chapter Sixteen
I understood pain and abuse. Those emotions felt like home. But kindness tore me up like nothing I’d ever known. Sweet smiles, cozy handshakes, and hearty expressions of gratitude softened me up just enough to contrast how shitty I’d felt my entire life. And to realize that, maybe, my life didn’t have to suck after all.
“Thank you very much, Chanie. Well done.” Bruce patted my shoulder, his hand big and calloused, like my dad’s. “I hope to see you the same time next week.”
I inhaled deeply to try to drown out a sob rising in my throat. Please, Bruce, don’t ask me what’s wrong. I didn’t know what was wrong, just that I was wrong. My very existence was wrong. I walked away with my head down and hid at the back of the gym, where I eased myself to the floor and cried. I didn’t want to feel my life. It was easier to be angry, to feel hated and unwanted. Feeling good had risks. Wanting something better for myself had even bigger risks.
I rode the bus home and snuck into the elevator. Luck was on my side: Friday night, no Blue, no Brenda, no creepy black Lincoln. Just Sox standing next to his empty dishes with a dazed look, like he had doubts about whether I’d feed him. My life. A dark apartment and a pissed-off kitten. I tuned the iPad to the Chill Channel and hopped into the shower, where I stayed for a long time. So long that the water turned cold. I cranked the creaky taps off and lay down in the tub, my mind immediately flashing to the image of my dad’s lanky body, his long legs tucked up, shotgun between his knees. Every bathtub was haunted by his suicide and lit up the darkest parts of my brain.
The iPad sketched in and out playing blips of music. The intermittent music picked at my nerves like nasty insects nipping at my skin. I whipped the shampoo bottle across the room and knocked the iPad to the floor. It kept trying to catch a signal and finally tuned perfectly to a preacher channel hosted by Pastor Terence Travino. His Texas accent filled the room: God wants us to explore what it means to be alive. Do you ask yourself, “Who am I and what kind of person do I want to be? Do the people I spend time with inspire me, or are they beating me down? Am I getting better each day, or am I languishing?” We have a limited time on Earth. Do you want to wake up feeling joy? Or do you wake up with a belly full of dread? Picture yourself sitting on the edge of your grave and ask yourself, “What did I do with my time on the Earth?”
I listened for a long time. The air dried my skin, and Sox slept soundly on a bath towel. Pastor Josh often quoted Terence Travino. I usually blew it off. But that night, not only did I hear the message, I felt it. And it sent a chill through me.
I dried myself off and went into the kitchen to check the Nelson can. I needed an opening balance for my budget. I knew I’d contributed exactly $1,864. If Blue had matched my contribution, we’d be close to twenty percent of our overall goal. I reached behind the cleaning supplies and felt for the can. We kept the money in a freezer bag just in case of a water leak. Sox sat on the kitchen floor next to me, like my partner in crime. I felt the rim of the can, pulled it out, and placed it in front of me. I closed my eyes and took a breath. Nothing! Not even an I.O.U. or a shred of paper. Even the freezer bag was gone.
It had to have been Brenda! Or maybe Blue had hidden it in a safer place. He couldn’t possibly have taken the cash and left? His clothes and tools were all over the apartment, so I assumed he hadn’t run off. I yanked every single item out of the cabinet and scanned the empty space with my iPhone’s flashlight. Still nothing! I called Blue, but he didn’t answer. I punched out a text message: Seems we’re out of coffee! Any idea where it is?
I sat on the floor and let Sox play hide-and-seek with the empty can. I didn’t feel tired anymore, just deflated. Blue had ignored my message, so I sent him a few more: Do the people I spend time with inspire me, or are they beating me down? I paced around the suite like a stressed animal. I was spinning out on every attempt to find a solution to the money situation. I had to focus on what I could control. Rie and Pastor Josh told us every day, “Focus on what you can control, not what you can’t.” In that moment, I realized that I couldn’t control Blue, but I could choose to study for my midterm exams because I had to stay on track. If I ever wanted to get out from under all the chaos, I’d have to be stronger than my circumstances.
I managed to get some work done before passing out with the lights on and books all over the bed. Blue came home around three in the morning. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Sox leaped off the bed and ran behind the dresser.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
“None of your fucking business, Chanie.”
“Really. How is that possible, Blue?”
“I don’t answer to you.”
“I see. So, I just go out and suck dick to buy our way out of this shit life we’ve created, and you get to do whatever you like?”
“Pretty much.”
“No, Blue.”
“No, what!”
“No to pretty much! This is a relationship. We’re accountable to each other.”
“I just said I don’t answer to you. I’m not your partner. I’m what you’d call your stakeholder. It’s like me, Brenda, and Milos got shares in your peachy little ass.”
“Then who do you answer to?”
“I answer to God.”
“Get serious, Blue. Where’s the cash from the Nelson can?”
“Let’s just say we had to cash in on some dividends.”
“You’re high again.”
“So, what of it, Jade.” Blue laughed and slapped his thigh.
“Don’t call me Jade.”
“Or what?”
Or what? He was right. He was just one more thing in my life that I couldn’t control.
“Or what …” Blue slurred.
“Go to sleep.”
“That’s right, girl. Sleep!”
He tossed all my books off the bed, crawled under the covers, and turned his back to me. I did the same. He slept. I didn’t.
I woke up to Blue slamming cupboard doors.
“Don’t we have any fucking coffee, Chanie?”
I wanted to say No! It appears all our coffee cans are empty.
“No, Blue. I can run out and get you some, but then I really have to study.”
“Nah, get up and I’ll drive us to Tim Hortons.”
We walked out to the truck, acting natural, like we’d just finished watching a movie and had a hankering for some caffeine. I wondered if people could sense our dysfunction. His drug habits. My life of lies. We looked like a scruffy couple just going for a ride. Two people out for a treat, like dogs riding to an off-leash park.
Blue drove toward the downtown location instead of to the closer Strathcona one. It felt like he wanted to waste my time and take me away from my studies, but I didn’t say anything because he was twitchy and had already lost his shit on a guy turning left in front of him. I had to get focused and get good grades. I couldn’t resign myself to a fate like Brenda’s and become an old, worn-out whore who lived on cheap booze and poutine. That image drove me to keep trying. And the image of Perry, dead under the yellow tarp, drove me even more.
We drove through the tunnel beneath the Legislature. Blue took the corner too fast, but I kept quiet and stared out the window at the Legislature Grounds. I made a mental note to ask Ginger and the guys if they’d like to go there sometime. Maybe we could go when the Christmas lights were up or, if not, when the wading pool was open in the summer.
I’d only been to the Legislature one time. I’d been having a killer night. I could barely catch a breath between tricks. I jumped out of a burgundy minivan, and before he could even pull away, a blue Toyota Tacoma pulled up with the passenger window down. The driver, a thirtyish welder-looking guy, leaned over and yelled, “Hey! Wanna play Purple City with me?”
I wondered what kind of freak show I might be getting into and which one of us would have to dress up as Prince? Which shitty song would I have to hear on repeat for six hours while he worshipped some unknown deity or cried on my belly? I pegged him for a closeted “When Doves Cry” kind of emo guy, or maybe worse, “Purple Rain.”
I’d made enough cash for the night, so I said, “Sorry, man. I don’t have a Prince costume.”
The welder-guy threw his head back and laughed. “What the fuck? Do I look like the kind of guy who listens to Prince?”
I took a closer look. “I suppose not. More of a Mötley Crüe kind of look.”
“That’s better.” He patted the passenger seat. “Hop in! Are you hungry?”
“Always,” I said, and climbed into the truck.
We drove down Jasper Avenue. The trees were wrapped in vibrant blue lights, like the trees on Whyte Avenue. The City must have secured a deal on the lights, considering they’d wrapped over twenty city blocks of tree trunks and hung coloured balls all over the ancient trees in Old Glenora. I liked the lights. They gave me the feel of a fantastical world, especially when I was drunk.
“My name is Sloan,” my trick said.
“And mine is Jade,” I said, as he turned south on 107 Street.
“I know you probably don’t care, but I lost my wife two years ago today,” Sloan said, looking over his shoulder to pull a U-turn.
I’d heard that a lot. I don’t know if guys thought we had a special dead-wives rate. Or if we even cared. The fact that he actually had someone to grieve over was more than most of us girls could even hope for. I never asked questions, though, for two reasons: I didn’t care, and I found it hard to fake my concern.
We drove slowly along the east side of the Legislature Building, another majestic building like the Hotel Macdonald. The Leg sat on top of the riverbank, west of the Hotel Mac, right overtop of River Valley Road, adjacent to the High Level Bridge. It had been constructed around the same time as the Mac, stood five storeys high, and boasted grand entrances, spectacular stonework with magnificent carvings, and dramatically arched windows and doors. The top of the structure was a regal dome that looked as though it housed the queen and all her jewels. It was surrounded by spectacular grounds decorated with fountains, trees, and statues. In the Christmas season, the grounds lit up like a magical snow globe, and I’d heard there was a skating rink on the south end of the property.
I’d never walked onto the property because the building scared me. It was so regal and government-y, I was sure I’d be tackled by a dozen sheriffs. It housed the people who met in fancy meeting rooms wearing their suits and ties. The kind of people who were working hard to rid the world of girls like me. People who used my downfall as part of their campaign platforms, vowing to either “save” or “solve” the issues of prostitution. I wondered who’d fought for my Begin Again program. I’d ask Mr. Tanji if he knew.
“What are you doing?” I asked Sloan as he parked the truck.
“We’re going to do Purple City!” He laughed and reached behind him for a thermos.
“We can’t be here!”
“What do you mean, Jade?”
“It’s government property.”
Sloan leaned his head back and laughed another wide-mouthed laugh. “No! It’s public property.” He pushed the thermos toward me. “Take a swig!”
I took a swig, delighted to find a strong mix of Baileys and coffee.
“Hey! Easy.” Sloan smiled and took the thermos back. “How have you never been here before?”
“I was supposed to come here for a grade-seven field trip,” I said, reaching for the thermos. “But I had a flu that day.” The truth was that I’d gotten my first period that morning before leaving for school. I lied and told my mom that I had thrown up and must have had a flu. I didn’t tell her the truth because I couldn’t stand the thought of her and Clayton having any kind of discussion that centred on my vaginal region.
“Well, let’s tour it now!” Sloan said, tucking the thermos behind the seat.
Purple City, as it turned out, was an Edmonton tradition. I followed Sloan to the back of the Legislature, where we stared into the floodlights for about a minute. When I looked up, everything was purple. The building, the grounds, the valley, and the bridge. Everywhere I looked had a purple hue that made me feel as though I’d fallen into a psychedelic drug scene in a movie. I stared at the purple trees and a purple Sloan, standing next to me crying over his dead wife. It freaked me out, but I stayed calm and waited for the colour to fade, because colour always fades.
After an hour of Blue’s random driving, I had to pee and had had enough of the city tour. I leaned over and touched his arm. “Hey, babe. Where are we headed to?”
“Tim Hortons. Where the fuck do you think?”
Where the fuck did I think? His hostility exhausted me. It was always a lose-lose when Blue was coming down from whatever he’d been into. He thought my education was a total waste of time. He’d not said those exact words, but one night when we were counting my earnings, he said, “Imagine how much cash we could make if you worked full-time and quit wasting your time at school.” I wouldn’t allow myself to consider that might have been his plan for me all along. Could I possibly be that stupid?
“Hey, Chanie,” Blue whispered. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”
“Okay.” I twisted sideways to shut him up.
It came out of nowhere. A deep wail churned up from my stomach, drowning out the radio. My upper lip burned, like fireworks had exploded beneath my skin, blood rushing and pushing outward from the shock of Blue’s knuckles slamming into my face. The bitter taste of blood flooded into my mouth, and my nose stung like I’d inhaled saltwater. The back of my head had smashed into the side window, and it felt like my brains were pouring down my back. I brought my hands up to my face, wet with tears or blood, I wasn’t sure.
“Get your fuckin’ hands off your face, Chanie,” Blue snapped.
I tried to lower my hands, but my body was curled up so tight, I couldn’t. My feet lifted from the floor as I tucked myself into a seated fetal position.
“Jesus Christ, Chanie! If you don’t sit up straight and look normal, I swear to God I will knock every one of your teeth down your throat.”
I took a deep breath and forced my body upright. I saw a police car right behind us. I thought they were pulling us over, but realized we were stopped at a red light. The cops were fixated on their computer screen, oblivious to the violence happening right in front of their car. Nothing felt real. In broad daylight on a Saturday afternoon, I’d been assaulted at a red light in my boyfriend’s truck with a police car right behind us. And nobody knew except me and Blue.
I could jump out!
“Don’t even think about it, Chanie. I will break every puny rib in Sox’s body, one at a time.”
The light turned green, and Blue gently accelerated. He handed me some dirty McDonalds napkins from the console. “Wipe your face. Your nose is bleeding.”
I obeyed so he wouldn’t hit me again. My chest burned as though my heart had ripped out and squeezed its way out the window. Please don’t let me bruise. What would I tell Ginger? Rie and Pastor Josh? I couldn’t explain away black eyes and swollen lips. He’d never hit me before. He’d just had a moment.
We pulled into the drive-through, and Blue ordered me an extra-large triple-triple.
“You’re gonna need all that caffeine to get caught up on your homework. I’ll get you home so you can get busy. You’re gonna have a very busy weekend with work ’n all.”
I’d been raped, beaten, and left on motel floors. I’d watched police cover up my strangled friend with a tarp. I’d accepted money to let men rough me up while they sodomized me. But nothing, nothing had felt so utterly grotesque as Blue’s fist in my face. I wanted to hate him, but I needed him to love me more in that moment than I ever had. I wished he would reach over and stroke my face and tell me he hadn’t meant it. That seeing the pain and damage he’d done to me would shake him into reality and make him realize he needed to get well. I needed him to want to be a better man, apologize, and promise he would never hurt me again. But he just handed me the coffee and drove us home in silence.
He parked in front of the building to let me out.
“You got about three hours to do some homework. Then I gotta take you to work for a bit. Brenda got you a new client. Said he’d pay well.”
I looked at him and nodded. Tears rolled down my face. I bit my lip. It’s not safe to cry.
“Come on, baby face. I love you. You know that. We just got all this stress going on all the fuckin’ time. Brenda and Milos, your teachers sniffin’ around. Man oh man! We’re trying to get a fresh start here, and all this shit is in our faces. Like all the time! Makes a guy crazy.”
He stared at me as though waiting for a reply. Like my acknowledgement of his stress would absolve him of what he’d done and erase that split second from my memory. I tried to pretend I understood. I nodded and said, “Pastor Josh says that when you’re getting closer to your goals, the enemy gets stronger.”
Blue leaned toward me, and I jerked up against the door.
“There’s no need to get so sketchy, girl. You better relax those nerves so people don’t start thinking you got an addiction problem.”
I nodded.
“Baby, you know it’s the stress, right? I didn’t mean to punch you. I just lost my shit for a second. I told you before, it’s just you bein’ with those other guys! Makes me nuts. Let’s just put it behind us.”
“Yes, Blue. I want to do that.” I think …
“You still love me, right?”
“Always, Blue. Love of my life,” I said, again robotically.
“You too, baby.” He leaned over me and opened the truck door. “Remember, we’re all we got, Chanie. You and me against the world!”
I stepped out of the truck and sat on the edge of a planter in front of the building. The air thickened with moisture. The clouds seemed to rush in to block out the sun as though they were trying to protect my face from the light. I didn’t care if my face was bloody. I raised it up to the sky and waited for the rain to wash away the bruises, the truth, and the future that I feared.
The silver Audi slowly rolled past, my grey-haired prince looking intense and intelligent, probably thinking about things that mattered. He waited for cars to pass so he could turn into his parkade. A break in traffic gave him the gap he needed, but he glanced over and hesitated. His mouth opened slightly, and he creased his brows. I creased mine too and quickly looked away.
Brenda was sitting on the couch in the lobby, as though she’d been waiting to greet me. She came up to me and pointed her fingers in my face.
“Well, looky there! Looks like you had a bit of an accident, Jade. Sure wouldn’t want to see that money-makin’ face get too fucked up, would we?”
“No, we wouldn’t, Brenda. Then you’d have to sell that dried-up snatch of yours for Canadian Tire money. Get the hell out of my way.”
“Keep it up, darlin’! Maybe Milos can come and give ya an attitude adjustment.”
“Not if I blow him, he won’t!”
When I’d started hooking, my weathered reflection saddened me. I didn’t think there could be anything worse until I looked in the mirror on Monday morning. My eyes had blackened over the weekend, and despite the bags of frozen peas I’d pressed into my lips, they still throbbed and pounded as though trying to break free of my skin. If I hadn’t given countless blow jobs, the swelling might not have been so bad. I’d worked more hours than I’d slept. I’d pushed even harder to study while Blue was out getting high because my books were my lifeline. They were the bridge to my life of sun hats and gardens.
I made my way to the Mac’s to meet Ginger. She looked out the window and ran outside. She wrapped her arms around me, and we crumpled to the ground and cried. Ginger cried even harder than I did. Maybe she cried harder because she knew she couldn’t make me leave him. My pain hurt her. She was my karmic sister, like the girl on the TV the night Clayton and his buddy had raped me. One conscience, two lives.
“Chanie, we’re gonna find you a way out. I promise you,” Ginger said, pressing our foreheads together, her hands cupping my head.
“I don’t know what to do. I can’t just leave him.”
“Fuck him! We gotta think about you. You need to get to school so you don’t get kicked out. I’ll grab coffee. Just get going, and I’ll see you there. We’ll come up with something believable.”
“Blue said to tell everyone I went to help him rip up a carpet at work. That I was standing behind him, and he accidentally hit me.”
“I hate him!” Ginger shrieked.
I rehearsed my story over and over in my head as I speed-walked to school. I had it memorized and ready. Everyone would believe me if I laughed it off and didn’t make it into a big deal. I’d have to be consistent and not show a lot of emotion. I’d exit conversations quickly. I figured I could handle it — until I saw Tuffy and Jeremy standing outside. The look on their faces stung even worse than Blue’s fist.