Who by Fire (26 page)

He kept at it for a long time, staring at each picture and sipping whisky. He finally closed the album on a page of his children as teenagers and pushed the stack to the couch’s end. He considered what the Voice was saying about good old-fashioned revolving oblivion. How good the casino would feel right now, or at least how not-bad.

But, unlike other nights, he continued to fight. He sat and stared; de-focused his eyes and chanted.

He startled awake. He touched his face and found the couch’s nubby surface printed there. There was a ringing sound but it wasn’t either of his telephones. He understood finally that it was the buzzer for the lobby door.

Light was spraying through the plastic blinds. He got up, took a step, and fell. One leg was asleep. Bill was certain the buzzer wasn’t for him but pressed the button anyway, just to make it stop. It was a surprise a couple of minutes later when his doorbell rang. Through the peephole, all he could see was a gooey substance crossing his eye. He jerked the door open and there was Donna.

She had on a parka bigger than herself. Her bare head sat in a ring of fur.

“Stop staring and invite me in. What have you done to your face? You look like that guy in
Moby Dick
. The one with the tattoos.”

“Queequeg.”

“That one.”

She pushed past him. He tried to hug her on the way by. “Get off. Wait until I’m out of my coat.”

Bill looked at the clock on the stove. One p.m.

“You must have left Calgary in the middle of the night,” he said. “Or did you stay in Edmonton?”

“It’s Elmer. He’s been sick. I have to have a cat sitter. One thing about the great lesbian sisterhood, you can always get a cat sitter. Anyway, I had to leave early and can’t stay long.”

“That doesn’t seem worth it.”

“You’re worth it, Sunshine. Unless you mean I’m not worth it in which case you can F-O.”

He mumbled an apology.

“Oh stop it. Go make coffee while I chance your bachelor bathroom.”

Bill ground beans and loaded up the coffee maker. He was getting down cups when he heard the plastic blinds clatter in the living room.

“This looks bad in here, Billy,” Donna called. “Like some demented drunk surrounded himself with photo albums, drank a bottle of whisky, and passed out.”

“I was trying to stay in.”

“That’s a mortal struggle? What else is there to do? Singles’ night at the Legion?”

He came with the coffee. “Among other things, I was looking at pictures of you.”

“Ugh. You had anemia but I
looked
like I did.” She swept up the album, found the right page, and looked at herself. “See? I look sick. I look worried.”

“I guess there were reasons.”

“The local shadow of death?” She turned the album around so he could see one of himself, grinning toothlessly. “Why don’t you look worried, then?”

“Too young. Too dumb.”

“Let’s have our coffee in the kitchen. It’s creepy in here.”

They sat across the table.

“What made you decide to come?”

“This is called a visit, Bill. The idea is for you to be glad.”

“I am glad.”

“Okay, here’s what I want to do in the next twenty-four hours. All you ever read about in the papers these days is the tar sands—and Fort McMurray. I want a tour.”

“Mac’s pretty ordinary.”

“Except for nine cars per household.”

“Are you planning to stay here?”

“Of course. What a question.”

“I’ll have to tell the Newfies to find somewhere else to sleep.”

“Okay. That’s good. Not great, but it’s a start.”

Bill had a shower. They went for lunch, then crossed the bridge and drove north on 63. The first stop Bill made was at the oil sands’ tourist attraction: the buffalo paddock. The buffalo were fairly close to
the fence, where they had been fed. Used to visitors, they kept grazing the green path.

“I read about this. This is a reclaimed strip mine or something.”

“An old retaining pond, I think. I actually don’t know.”

“An official viewing place anyway.”

“Right.”

“Something nicer to look at than the rest.”

“They leave trees here and there, to mask the strip mines from the highway.”

“Thoughtful.”

When they were driving again, Donna said, “Be honest with me, Billy. Can this really be reclaimed?”

“All the strip-mined areas used to be boreal forest. Wetlands and bogs. You can’t make a boreal forest in under a thousand years.”

“Will they kill the river?”

“If all the land currently leased is developed, they’ll kill the river.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“A friend of mine told me there’s only one water sampling site between the strip mines and Lake Athabasca. It’s true—I looked it up. I think they’re going with the principle that you can’t find what you don’t look for.”

“You sound greener than I remember.”

“Guess I’ve been paying more attention.”

“Why?”

“Personal reasons.”

“That’s the stuff you’re supposed to tell your sister. Will it make you quit?”

“I doubt it. I need to work.”

“You must have lots of money by now.”

“I go through it pretty fast.”

Donna wanted to see Bill’s plant, and the question was if he
could get her inside. He phoned ahead and talked to a few people. It was touchy because they only allowed official tours. Finally, he had to phone Houle, who made somewhat of a big deal out of consenting. He was told to go straight to his own control room and office and straight out again.

“She’ll have to wear visitor ID—and a hard hat.”

“She’ll love the hard hat. Thanks.”

“She’s not a reporter or anything?”

“She runs a travel agency.”

Henry’s crew, staring at Donna, were like yokels at a fair, like she had horns. When he introduced her as his sister, it got worse. He never talked about a family so they’d assumed he didn’t have one. He saved Henry Shields for last, after the others had gone back to work.

“Henry’s from our way,” he told her.

“What’s your job, Henry?”

“Make the big guy here look good.”

“Best of luck with that.”

In Bill’s office, Donna let out a happy yell. She had found the framed photos on the desk. “Jeannie and me on the farm! And your kids! You’re so much more human than we think.”

Back on the road, Donna wanted to know about the village across the lake. Bill explained: Native town that happened to be where the geologists found an oil sands deposit shallow enough to mine.

“That sounds a little familiar.”

“It’s not as bad as when we were kids. These plants are better.”

“Still, big ugly plant across the lake. They can’t be happy. Can we go there?”

On the main street, Bill listened to himself describing the village. He sounded defensive and promotional.

“Standard of living here is okay. Most of the people are old but some of their kids and grandkids are in the industry. A few of the houses are nice, like that one.” He pointed at Marie’s.

“What the frig is that?” Donna was looking at the community centre.

He parked in the centre’s lot and explained Dion’s gift. Donna laughed at Bill’s Starship
Enterprise
comparison. While they were talking, Marie Calfoux came out of her house and started shovelling snow. Bill made a U-turn, buzzed down his window, and stopped beside her.

“Hey, Marie.”

“Mr. Ryder. Thought the tar sands had swallowed you.”

“This is my sister, Donna. Donna, Marie Calfoux.”

Marie bent low so she could see Donna. She reached her arm in and they touched mitts. “Your brother’s showing good manners today.”

“He used to have manners. I can’t speak for now.”

Bill said they had to go before all the restaurants in Mac were full. When they were out of the village, Donna punched him hard on the shoulder.

“You’re a madman. That woman is seriously nice—and good looking—and you were barely civil.”

They agreed not to change clothes when they got to Mac. After a fifteen-minute wait, they were seated in Bill’s favourite steakhouse. Donna was chilled and kept her parka on, zipped to the neck.

“Did I mention you look like a severed head on a fur platter?”

“The point is to be warm. I’m not concerned what I look like in Fort McMurray.”

The waiter came, his hands extended toward Donna.

“I don’t want you to hang up my coat. But I want a hot rum toddy very badly.”

Bill ordered a beer. There was a silence after the waiter left.

“You’re making me feel unwelcome again.”

When the drinks came, Donna unzipped her coat halfway. “Jeannie thinks there’s a woman in your life.”

“Jeannie’s wrong.”

“She says you’re doing the sort of things you do when there is.”

Bill ignored her and poured his beer.

Donna persisted. “Not even in the relatively recent past?”

“I guess there was.”

“You guess? There was someone and what? You broke up? It never got started?”

“Both.”

Donna reached across the booth and swatted at him. “You nut! It can’t be both.”

Bill stared into the kitchen, where smoke had burst from the grill.

“There used to be a woman but there never was a woman,” said Donna. “Okay, it’s a riddle.” She climbed out of her parka but kept it behind her on the bench. “You were interested, but you blew it before anything could happen.”

“That’s pretty good.”

“Let’s toast, Billy.” They clinked glasses.

“So let me flesh this out. You used to call her. You went out a few times.”

“No.”

“Which part?”

“Didn’t go out.”

“Phone calls?”

“Some.”

“Sometimes you called? Sometimes she called?”

“Mostly she did.”

“Really? Then what? She stopped calling?”

The waiter returned, and Bill ordered a bottle of wine.

“How’s the travel business?”

“Our survival depends on old couples who haven’t figured computers out.”

“You should sell to your partners.”

“I’ve suggested it. I went about it like Dad. Told them it’s no good then offered to sell it to them.”

When the waiter came back for orders, Donna wanted steak. “What’s a baseball steak?”

The waiter explained the shape. A special feature of their restaurant was a super-hot prong that cooked them from the inside. “Thousand degrees. We can do it Chicago style.”

“Say what?”

“Charred on the outside but medium-rare inside.”

“Okay, I’m having it.”

“Have anything but the baseball steak,” said Bill. “It’ll be raw in the middle.”

“Don’t listen to him.”

“I’m not listening. I’m having it.”

The wine arrived. Bill passed the tasting glass to Donna. She admitted it was good.

“You were about to tell me something,” she said to Bill. “About the phone calls.”

“C’mon, Donna. Let’s not talk about this all night.”

“You c’mon. Tell me.”

“She called me a couple of times. I didn’t call back.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

“She’s got a drug habit? She’s a stalker? She’s fourteen and her father’s a Muslim camp cook? A hooker?”

“Donna, stop.”

“Tell me if I’m hot or cold.”

“Stone cold.”

“You like her and there is no obstacle.”

“There’s an obstacle.”

“She’s married.”

“Divorced, but that’s not it.”

Bill picked up a cardboard coaster and bounced the edge while Donna thought.

“I’ve got it. She’s an environmentalist.”

Bill tried to keep his face expressionless. Donna waggled her finger at him. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“No.”

“But I’m warm.”

The food came. The baseball steak was raw in the middle. Donna sent it back. It returned a few minutes later, still raw.

Donna looked at the disgraced waiter. “That’s not the hottest prong in the west,” she said.

Finally, the steak made it to medium-rare.

“Okay, you’ve made your smug little point, Billy. Shut up and eat. I’m having fun, by the way. I’m glad I came.”

“Jeannie sent you, didn’t she?”

“Jeannie doesn’t send me. I’m not twelve.”

“But you two discussed me and concluded I needed a visit.”

“Of course we discuss you. There are three Ryders, not ten.”

“Jeannie thinks I’m a mess.”

Donna raised her eyebrows, chewed some steak.

“What?” Bill asked.

“I’m remembering your apartment.”

“I wasn’t expecting company.”

“So, whenever you’re not expecting company, you get shit-faced and sleep on the couch?”

“I told you, I was trying to spend a night at home. I go out too much on days off.”

They ate their steaks. When their plates were taken away, Donna wanted coffee and brandies.

“I’ll have to call Mr. Khalid.”

“Who?”

“Cab driver.”

The brandies arrived. Donna lifted hers off the stirrup and sniffed deeply.

“But let’s not get sidetracked. You still haven’t explained why you’re not answering the woman’s calls.”

“Donna. No more.”

“What did she do to make you so rude?”

“It’s not like I hang up on her. She leaves messages. I don’t answer them.”

“That’s worse!”

“We met a couple of times at open houses. We had a few laughs and I got my hopes up.” He shrugged and took a drink.

Donna jumped in her seat. “I’ve got it! It’s the woman in the village!”

Bill signalled the waiter for the check.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You’re right.”

Donna let out a low moan. “Oh boy, this is serious. She’s even your age. And available?”

“Seems so.”

“You say you got your hopes up, but she’s the one who’s phoning. And she seemed glad to see you today. So that makes no sense.”

“Couple of things have happened that suggest she just wants information about the plant. I’m more candid than our PR guys, so she wants to talk to me.”

“You’re not that much of a company man, are you, Billy?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“That you’d write off a promising woman because she doesn’t like your stupid plant?”

“I’m not that much of a company man.”