All the wolf stuff. I can hear the worry voice in my head. No reason for this since my adventure is over and I am on my way home. But I dont like the idea of killing a wolf and skinning him and sitting on him. Whether hes your grampa or not doesnt matter. Its not cool. And thats not the only thing. Joe was lying about his phone. He said it wasnt working and it is. Is there anything else hes lying about?
Worry worry worry worry worry.
Joe drives away with a jerk and eats his sandwich in chomps. His cheeks are smoother than Dads. They move all the time—even after he finishes eating. He taps the steering wheel. Dad would tell him to chill. He says that to Mom a lot. It is his way of saying to take it easy.
We pass a sine that says TORONTO 113.
Do you know the way to Creekside? Joe asks me.
No I say. Sorry.
My sandwich is meat and cheese like Joes. And mustard. Its pretty good.
But do you know where it is?
Not really.
He nods like he is pleased.
No problem he says. I do. You relax for a while.
Joe is driving me and getting me lunch but he wont let me use his phone. So he is being nice to me but he is also not being nice to me. That doesnt make sense. Something else is going on.
I finish my sandwich and milk. The numbers on the sines get smaller and smaller. Toronto 78. Toronto 56. Joe doesnt talk and nether do I. I close my eyes. I feel like I am waiting for a balloon to pop. Something is about to happen. I know it. I just know it.
Worry worry worry worry worry.
I open my eyes. Close them. Open them again.
Nothing happens. We keep driving.
The road gets wider. 3 lanes then 4 then a hole bunch. Ive been here befor. We pass a mall with a gas station and a dollar store and a Happy New Year banner. The road bends and the land falls away so I get a wide view of the lake on my left. It goes all the way to the horizon and there is ice a long way out. The sun bounces off it. The clock ticks from 12:23 to 12:24. Theres lots of cars on the road and they are going fast.
Joe puts on his turn signal and swoops over. We are off the 401 but where are we?
Is this how you get to Creekside? I ask.
It isnt how the bus took me there from the court house in Toronto. And its not how mom and dad took me home last week.
Joes hair shines with whatever he puts in it.
We are going to stop for a moment on our way to Creekside he says. I have to drop something off.
Oh I say.
We turn and turn again and drive down a twisty street. We are in the middle of a lot of houses and all of them look the same. Same front window and porch.
Same roof with 2 pointy bits facing the street. Same little tree on the front lawn—maybe even the same kind of tree. Same drive way with the snow cleared away and piled up. Same garage with the house number on the front. Different numbers.
We come to a stop sine but dont stop. The car going the other way honks at us. We roll slowly down the street while Joe reads the numbers.
We stop in front of the only house on the street with the drive way full of snow.
This is the place says Joe.
He zooms the engine. We skid sideways up the curb and bucket forward up the drive way and then stop.
Come inside Bunny.
Joes voice is harsher than normal. It is stretched like he is. Everything about him is tite like plastic rap on a bowl.
Just for a bit he says.
I dont want to come inside but I have to go to the bathroom so I unbuckle my seat belt and open the car door. Joe puts his hand on my sholder and steers me up the front steps. There is a front door key in the male box.
The place smells like sickness. You know what I mean. Spencers bedroom smells like that when he has the flu. I dont know what makes the smell. Barf and swet I gess. Sheets and dirty close and pills—no maybe not pills. I take off my skates and think yuck. Its worse down the hall in the bathroom but I have to go so I try not to notice it. I do notice Grampas voice tho—it cuts thru the toilet flushing and me washing my hands.
Bernard you must hurry.
I jump enuff to splash water on my pants and socks.
Grampa? I wisper.
I cant see where he is. The meer reflects the hole bathroom but Im the only 1 there.
I turn off the water and dry my hands—and spot the geography magazine on the shelf behind the towels. I havent been to the dentist in a while so I havent seen this one. The front cover has a close up of a wolf staring into the camera. Big yellow eyes serious and sad. The headline reads WILD BUT NOT CRAZY.
That would be Grampa.