Authors: Julie Frayn
“You listen to me. You are a
wonderful mother. You did what any good one would do to protect her child. You
took his shit for years. But there’s a breaking point. Don’t matter what
happened, don’t matter that you planned to tie him up or even that you planned
to hurt him a bit, give him a taste of his own damn medicine. It was still
self-defence.”
Mazie nodded. “Thank you,” she
whispered.
“You sound exhausted. Get some
sleep. And keep in touch.”
“I don’t know where we’re going.
I’ll try to call when I can.”
“Go get yourself one of those
burner cells.”
“A what?”
“You know, like on those cop shows.
Prepaid, when it runs out, throw it away and get another.”
“Rachel. I had no idea you were
such a bad-ass.”
Rachel’s laughter filled the phone.
“Why, thank you. Now, don’t you wish you’d talked to me before?”
Mazie began to cry again. “Lady,
you have no idea.”
~~~~~~~~
“Ding-dong, the psycho's gone.”
Mazie blinked against the sunshine.
Ariel sat on the end of the bed, remote in hand, still in her pyjamas. An old
episode of
Friends
played on the television.
Mazie reached out and poked her
daughter’s back with one toe.
Ariel spun around and glared at her.
“Don’t.”
“Jeez, sorry. What time is it?”
Ariel pointed the remote at the
television and pushed a button. “Almost nine.”
Mazie fell back into the pillow and
covered her eyes with her palms. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I wanted to be out of here by
seven. I guess I fell asleep before I set the alarm.” Maybe confession truly
was good for the soul. She hadn’t slept that well in years. “I’m going to grab
a shower. Did you brush your teeth?”
“Not yet. Can I have a shower too?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks, Charlotte.”
Mazie raised one eyebrow. “You’re
welcome, Clementine.”
Ariel giggled. “Can we always use
those names?”
“It is kind of fun.” And it
wouldn’t hurt to get used to some new identities.
Ariel clicked off the television. “Can
I call you Charlie?”
“What about Mom?”
“Nah. You look like a Charlie.”
“I like Mom. We’re going to aim for
Timmins today. When we get there, want to get some, oh I don’t know…. some
makeup?”
“What? You’ll let me wear makeup?”
“Just a bit.”
Ariel bounded to her feet and
crushed Mazie in a hug. “I love you, Charlie Smyth.”
~~~~~~~~
Mazie poked at her overcooked egg,
tore a piece of soggy bacon in half and held up its limp form. She tossed it on
her plate and settled for just coffee. The tepid brew sat on her tongue like
warm bathwater. Ariel shoved forkful after forkful of waffles into her mouth.
She wiped her lips and guzzled half
a glass of milk, sat back and stared out the window. “Mom?”
“What, bug?”
“Are we ever going home?”
Mazie swallowed. No matter how many
times she’d played out this conversation in her head, tried to prepare for the
inevitable, she still had no idea what she was going to say.
“Not for a while.”
“Because Daddy hits you?”
Mazie nodded.
Ariel dragged her finger across her
plate and licked off the dregs of maple syrup. “How long has he been doing that?”
Mazie’s eyes filled with tears. No
point in lying to her now. “Years.” She pulled a napkin from a chrome dispenser
and wiped her nose. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, you know. You
do everything for him. He’s hardly ever even nice to you.”
“I didn’t realize you noticed that.”
“Yeah.” She looked out the window. “Sometimes
I’m not very nice to you either.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Polly and George never talk to
Rachel like that.” Ariel licked more syrup from her finger and stared out the
window. “Why didn’t you leave before?”
“I thought about it.” Almost every
day. Even packed a bag once. Then he brought home flowers and another cheap
ring. Or was it earrings? She’d convinced herself he had changed again. But it
was another lie piled on top of a mountain of lies. “But I’d never go without
you. And I didn’t want to take you away from your friends, from your school.”
“I’d have come with you.” Ariel
wiped a tear from her cheek.
“Doesn’t matter anymore. Now we’re
gone, right?”
Ariel nodded. “Right.” She wiped
more tears and looked out the window. “Will we ever see Daddy again?”
Mazie took a sip of her coffee,
tried to rein in the choking sob that caught in her throat. “I don’t think so.”
“What about Grandma?”
“Probably not.”
Ariel swallowed hard and sniffed.
“Polly?” she whispered.
“I doubt it, bug. I don’t think we
can go home again.”
“So, just you and me.”
“Afraid so.”
They sat in silence for a few
minutes. Mazie dropped a ten and three toonies on the table, and they left.
Ariel popped a Bon Jovi CD into the
player. The guitar riffs of the first song boomed out of the speakers, and soon
Ariel was singing along to “Runaway.” She stopped mid-song and turned to her
mother. “Hey, this can be our theme song.”
Mazie turned to look out the
window, to shield Ariel from yet more tears. If running away was all she’d
done, he’d have found them eventually and killed her. She was more certain of
that every day. But at least then she’d be running for her life. Not from it.
They headed north, the thick forest
on either side of the highway broken only when the road cut through granite and
stone.
Mazie patted Ariel’s leg. “Hey, you
want to get haircuts? Maybe I’ll colour mine.”
“Why? Your hair is so pretty.”
“I don’t know. Another change.
Something different.”
“Can I get purple?”
Mazie laughed. “If you want to.”
“I do. Short and purple.”
“You want short hair? Really?”
“Yeah. Daddy won’t see it, so he
can’t get mad at me. My hair, my choice, right?”
“Agreed. Your hair, your choice.”
“But where would we get that done
out here? There’s nothing but trees and rock and old houses.”
“Grab the map.”
Mazie eased the car onto a narrow
turnout, climbed out, arched her back and stretched her arms high above her head.
Ariel unfolded the map and laid it across the hood of the car. She traced her
finger from Ville Marie, past Notre Dame du Nord, and to the next town on the
map. “This looks kind of small.” She kept running her finger along until she
found one that looked promising. “Maybe there?”
An hour later, they slowed down to
sixty kilometres per hour on the outskirts of Englehart.
~~~~~~~~
“I want a pixie cut. And I want it
all purple.”
“Purple?” The stylist, Audra,
looked aghast. “I don’t think I have any purple.” She turned to Mazie. “Not too
many folks around here looking for any punk rock styles, you know?” She picked
up a colour sample wheel and handed it to Ariel. “The closest I have is maroon.
Maybe we could do some blonde highlights. Or blonde tips and spike it up?”
Ariel’s face lit up. “Yes!”
The salon was nothing more than a
couple of barber chairs and mirrors in the living room of a tiny house with one
employee — the owner. Audra chopped and clipped at Ariel’s long black locks.
They fell from her head and dropped to the floor in thick chunks.
Mazie turned away when tears sprang
to her eyes. It wasn’t Ariel’s first haircut, but this was no trim. Since
spring, she’d transformed from a little girl playing tag on the front lawn to a
young woman. A ‘tween about to become a teen, fully formed and ready for
anything.
Audra mixed the colour and painted
it onto Ariel’s hair. She set a timer and turned to Mazie. “How about you,
love? We can cut while your girl’s colour sets.”
Mazie hadn’t had short hair since elementary
school. As a teen she loved it long. As a young woman, it doubled as a security
blanket. And a man magnet. And the last man it attracted never let her cut it off.
Audra patted the back of the seat
and grabbed a black cape. “Take off your scarf.”
Mazie brought one hand up and
fingered the silky protector of secrets. “I can keep it on.”
“Honey, it’ll be ruined. I’ll put a
towel around instead.”
Mazie glanced at Ariel.
Ariel was distracted by her
reflection in the mirror. She turned her head side to side and inspected her
profile, batted her eyes, poked at the plastic bag on her head.
Mazie tugged the knot loose and let
the scarf fall from her neck. She balled it up and held it in both hands. Audra
secured a towel around her neck without a word, without a flinch or a wince or
a glance or a sideways comment, then floated the cape in front of Mazie’s face
and attached it with Velcro at the back.
She held her trembling hands in her
lap, secreted by the cape that was like a vice around her throat. She swallowed
and squirmed.
“You okay, honey?” Audra stood,
scissors poised.
A bead of sweat trickled down
Mazie’s temple. “It’s too tight.”
“I’m sorry.” Audra ripped the
Velcro open, placed two pudgy fingers between the cape and Mazie’s skin and
reattached the Velcro. “Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Audra took the first slice.
Mazie’s eyes locked on the
scissors, on the glints of light that caught the blade. A chunk of her hair
fell in front of her face and landed in her lap. She shut her eyes, listened to
the clip of metal on metal. Her shoulders dropped away from her ears and her
spine sank into the leather chair. It was the same cathartic release she felt
when that knife slid through Cullen’s flesh.
She cast her eyes to Ariel in the other
chair, brown goop in her hair, plastic bag over her head, pinned in the front. Ariel
spun the chair round and round. It was one of those moments where the young
woman faded and the child took centre stage.
Mazie smiled and sighed. She shot a
split-second look at herself in the mirror, expecting to see a stranger staring
back at her. But it was just her. With slightly shorter hair.
“So where are you all from?”
More nosy people. What did it
matter? They’d never run into each other again.
“Toronto.”
Ariel gave her a look, one eyebrow raised.
She looked like her father in that moment.
“Well why you come all the way out
here for a makeover?”
“We’re taking a road trip. The
haircuts were just a whim.”
“Wow, that’s quite the whim. I know
women who agonize for months over a little change.” She patted Mazie’s
shoulder. “Good for you. Now, how about blonde?”
“I’m sorry?”
Audra rolled her eyes. “Blonde. You
know, dye it light.”
Mazie stared at herself. With her
blue eyes and pale skin, blonde would be just the thing. “Do it.”
Two hours later, her scarf secured
around her neck, Mazie stood beside Ariel in front of the mirror. Ariel looked
years older, on the verge of high school. Not like a child who’d just finished
grade seven.
Mazie barely recognized herself.
She touched her lightened brow, turned her head and watched her hair bounce
around her face. She smiled.
Ariel rested her forearm on her
mother’s shoulder. “Looks great, Charlie. You were born to be a blonde.”
~~~~~~~~
The nauseating stink of gasoline
swirled around Mazie. She waited in line to pay for gas while Ariel poured her
a coffee and chose some snacks.
Mazie approached the counter and pointed
to the car outside. “Number three.”
Ariel put the coffee on the counter
and piled a soda and two bags of chips next to it. “Mom, look. Can we get one?”
Prepaid cell phones. Just like on
television. “And one of these phones, please.”
Two hours later, the outskirts of
Timmins came into view. For some reason she’d always envisioned it would be a
big city, but it was more like a big town. With few exceptions, there was no
building taller than three stories.
Ariel crossed her arms. “This is
it? Where’s downtown?”
“I think we’re in downtown.”
“Can’t we go to Toronto or
something?”
“Look.” Mazie pointed to a five
story building ahead. “At least that hotel looks decent.”
They pulled luggage from the car,
dragged it into the front entrance, and asked for a room. Before the door
closed behind them, Ariel fell face first onto the bed. Mazie ran to the
bathroom, the large coffee pressing on her bladder. She joined Ariel on the bed
and pulled out the cell phone. “I’m going to call Grandma.” She dialled her
mother’s number.
When the phone connected, there was
no greeting, just muffled voices in the background.
“Hello?” Three interminable seconds
passed before her mother spoke. The last time her voice sounded that strained
was when she’d called Mazie to break the news about her father’s death.
Mazie hung up without a word and
tossed the phone on the nightstand. She lay back on the bedspread and imagined
her mother, her house swarming with cops. They had probably tapped her phone.
Or maybe were tracing her calls.
Ariel flipped onto her back. “No
answer?”
Mazie shook her head. “She must be out.”
Lying came easy. She’d been lying
to Ariel for years. Protecting her from her father, from the horror of the
truths that lived under their roof. Was she protecting Ariel now? Or only
herself?
“I’ll call her back later.” Maybe
in the middle of the night. Cops had to sleep sometime, right? “In the
meantime, let’s order in. Chinese?”
They sat on the bed, the extra
pillows from the closet piled up behind them, and ate straight from the
take-out containers while noise from the television filled the space. The room
smelled of old grease and sticky ginger beef, overpowered by the musky, salty
stench of overcooked squid.
Mazie raised her chopsticks to her
mouth. The phone vibrated against the nightstand. The chopsticks jumped,
noodles flew through the air and landed on her lap. “Damn it!”
“Mom. It’s just the phone.” Ariel
looked at her like she’d lost her freaking mind.
Mazie snatched the cell phone from the
table and squinted at it. Seven oh five area code. North Bay. But not a number
she recognized. It had to be a mistake. No one had this number. Hell, she
didn’t even know what the number was.
She pressed talk and listened to
dead air. “Hello?”
“Mazie? Oh my god, they were right
in my house. They were going to trace that call, made me pick up. It was you,
right? Maybe it wasn’t even you.”
“Mom, calm down.”
“They’re trying to use me to catch you.
My own child!”
“It was me, Mom.” She covered the
phone with one hand and pointed to the door. “I’m just going to talk outside,”
she whispered.
“Is grandma okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine.” She stepped out
into the hall and clicked the door shut. “Mom?” Her voice ricocheted off the
walls in the empty hall.
“I’m here.”
Mazie sighed. “I figured something
was up the way you sounded. I was going to call back after midnight.”
“They’ve got my phone all rigged up
to listen in on my calls.”
“Where are you calling from?”
“I had a doctor’s appointment. I’m
at a pay phone. Damn it, Mazie, they wanted to escort me to the doctor, like
I’m some kind of criminal. I told them to shove it.”
Mazie smiled. “Good for you. How
did you get this number?”
“I have call display. I’m not too
much of an old lady you know.”
“Of course you’re not.” Voices and
footfalls in the medical facility echoed through the receiver.
“They took down the number. Tried
to find out who owned it, but they couldn’t.”
“No, it’s prepaid. My name isn’t
attached. But I don’t know if they can tell where I bought it.” She rubbed her
forehead with her fingertips. “Damn it mother, this is not fair to you, having
to cover for me. Lie for me.”
“It’s not a lie to tell them I
don’t know where you are.”
Tears sprang to Mazie’s eyes.
“Not a lie when I told them all the
awful things that bastard did to you over the years.”
Mazie wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“But they knew all about that.
Tried to tell me they just wanted to talk to you, but they were just trying to
trick a feeble old broad.”
“What did they say?”
“That if you turned yourself in,
they’d work something out. Because of the battery or some such thing. But you’d
still be arrested. And Ariel would be put in foster care.”
Mazie leaned her head against the
wall and swallowed hard. “I can’t let that happen.”
“You just keep going. Keep that
little girl with you. She needs you, darling.”
“What about you, Mom?”
Silence was followed by muffled
sobs. Her mother cleared her throat. “It’s spread to my liver and my kidneys.
They can’t stop it now.”
“Oh, Mother, no.” Mazie’s voice
cracked.
“I’ve declined treatment. Chemo
would buy me a couple of months at best, but damn it, those would be some shitty-ass
months.”
“How long?” All Mazie could muster
was a whisper.
“A few weeks. Three months, tops.
I’ve already made arrangements at a hospice.”
“I’ll come back. Take care of you.”
“No, you won’t. My life is done. Only
thing left for me to do is to protect you. And I’ll be damned if anyone is
going to take that away from me. Now you go. Before they use that cell phone
against you and find you through those towers or satellites or whatever the
hell they do.”