Hush

a thick build and stands four foot eleven. I’m fivefoot seven and tower over her.
“Hey, it’s my niece, thelesbian.” She smiles.
“Hey, it’s my aunty, thedwarf.”
“How you holding up, kid?” Sheholds her arms out.
“It is what it is, Aunty,” Isay, hugging her tightly.
“Smells a little like manure inhere.”
“Trust your nose, I smell ittoo.”
“Did you just arrive?”
“Yep. My plane got in an hourago. Your mom sent a car to pick me up. I tried to have aconversation with the driver for half an hour before giving up. Thefolks out here aren’t very friendly.”
I smile, knowing exactly whatshe’s talking about. I think that’s why I love Gabriola so much.The people are real, no pretenses and no competition for socialstatus. Everyone is treated like an equal.
“How long will you stay withMom?”
“Oh, she hasn’t told you?”
“Told me what?”
“She’s coming home to Winnipegwith me.”
“She didn’t mention it. Shehasn’t said much since the accident. I think her brain is stilltrying to process.”
“Yes. It’s an awful thing she’sbeen through.”
“The accident, or losing myfather?”
“The accident, dear. Losing yourfather was the best thing that could happen to her.”
I nod in agreement.
My mother was never suited tothis lifestyle. She was a farm girl from the prairies. My fatherfell in love with her while she was a tourist out here in thesixties. He spotted her in a crowd in Stanley Park. She was sweptaway and from that moment on, she was under his control. She wasnever the one to make decisions regarding the family, especially uskids. She was the polar opposite to my father. He was aggressiveand gruff; she had always been quiet and soft-spoken. I don’t faulther for my childhood. She was just as much of a victim as Iwas.
“How long is she staying withyou?”
“For as long as it takes.”
“Thank you, Aunty. I am worriedabout her being alone here with Psycho-Boy.”
“Yes, me too. God only knowswhat chaos he will cause now that he’s not under the dictatorshipof your father.”
“Yeah, I can’t see it goingwell. Dad and Denny were so similar. They both lacked the abilityto see themselves as less than perfect.”
She nods. “You know, Jade, yourfather wasn’t always king of the assholes. There were times that hetried to do the right thing. And, in his own way, he did loveyou.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,Aunty. I don’t even want to think about it.”
“You will. It’s just not timeyet.”
We walk into the front room.Aunty budges in front of the parasites and into Mom’s view. “Haveyou had enough of all this yet?” Aunty asks her.
For the first time today, Mom’sface comes alive. She smiles and nods.
The sisters hug until theirhearts are touching. Thank God. She’ll be safe with Aunty and awayfrom Denny.
***
I watch the Horseshoe Bayterminal get smaller as the ferry backs away from the wharf. Lifewill be different now that he’s gone. Less predictable.
Denny, my fucked-up brother, hasbeen waiting for this day. Every time he begrudgingly kissed ourfather’s ass was for this—the big pay-off. Denny will be in chargeof Banks Construction Ltd. I give it a year before he runs thewhole company into the ground—especially now that Dad isn’t here tomake him take his meds. Two anti-psychotic pills a day were theonly things that kept Denny from acting crazy. The dictatorship ofmy father hasn’t ended; it’s just been passed on to my brother.Something tells me he will try and control my mother and me evenmore than my father did.
A wave of anxiety hits me. Itake a deep breath and try to exhale slowly. It won’t help to panicabout what the future holds. I’ve got no choice but to live in themoment. Taking another deep breath of cool sea air, I close my eyesand picture my father’s face—still, no tears.
An hour and thirty-six minuteslater and I’m in Departure Bay and heading towards the Gabriolaferry. A pulse of aching pain in my temple beats in time with themusic on my truck stereo. Annie calls just as I reach theterminal.
“How’s the trip so far?”
“Uneventful.”
“Well, I bet after the crazy dayyou had, uneventful is good.”
“Excellent point. So, what aboutyou? Are you anxiously awaiting my arrival?”
“Of course! I’ve got a thick andjuicy tenderloin searing in the pan, rosemary and garlic potatoesin the oven, and I made a three level Tiramisu for dessert.”
“That’s incredible, are youserious?” I ask, overwhelmed. She’s a vegetarian and hates touchingdead animal meat. If I want a steak or any other meat, I’ve got tomake it myself.
“Nope. Not serious at all. Ijust wanted to cheer you up for a second. I didn’t make it to thestore today, so we’re splitting a box of KD and a couple of tofuwieners.”
“Brat.” I sigh and shake myhead. “But I don’t need cheering up. As long as you’re there, I’mhappy. Though I must admit, the tenderloin sounded prettygood.”
“I missed you today, Jade. I’msorry I couldn’t be there. Then again, even if I didn’t have to goto Quadra, I still wouldn’t have been able to go with you. Tooinappropriate.” There’s a tinge of bitterness in her voice.
“Fuck ‘em. All I care about isour cool little world.”
“Me too. Drive safely and hurrythe hell up.”
“See you soon. Don’t burn thosepotatoes.”
I’m not sure what I did to landAnnie. She’s perfect—at least for me. A faithful Buddhist, withstaunch views on preserving nature and all things living. Herparents used to run a B&B not far from my family’s cottage. Wespent every summer playing together from the time she was twelveuntil she was sixteen. At that point I was eighteen, and we losttouch for about eight years. Then, a couple of years ago, when shewas camping with friends on the beach, I ran into her. Immediately,our bond was reignited.
A short time later, wediscovered that our feelings for each other went past childhoodplaymates. We’ve been together ever since. Aside from the time thatshe spends with her parents on Quadra, or the shoots she goes on inVancouver, we’re always together.
When I think about how stagnantand repetitive my life was before we reconnected, I don’t know howI made it. I guess I never realised how truly lonely I was. Myrelationship history sucks. I’ve never been