The Old Guy

The Old Guy

1

West Vancouver is a bedroom suburb that lies between the ocean and the peaks of the Coast Mountains, built on those slopes as if to create an amphitheatre providing the residents of the wealthy burg with ringside seats to the goings on of the city and harbour below. The largest part of the suburb, British Properties, was given to the Guiness family of Ireland in the 1930's in exchange for building a bridge to connect the community to Vancouver proper. West Van has been building on that achievement, and rising from the rainforest, since then, designed to house the upper middle class of a city that was just a whisper of the size it has achieved today, in the 21

st

century. Below the peaks and the ski slopes, the houses, the golf courses, and the trees all tumble down the slopes and ravines to come to rest at the waters edge, meeting a fringe of apartment buildings, one of which was a brilliant pink and in former times a marker for salmon fishermen plying the shore in search of fish. David Winston lived here once, but that was in another life, and now, several years since he last called it home, he was walking along this street and recalling memories, not all of which were welcome, of the life he had before finding himself alone four years ago.

It was April, and he had travelled down the coast the day before, leaving his boat at Port Hardy, a small fishing port now fallen on hard times with the demise of the once abundant salmon, and had spent the night at his apartment for the first time in almost six months. He kept the apartment because he thought he should, but didn't use it much, preferring the alternative of wandering when and where he liked in his old boat.

He was arriving early, carrying fish and wine for his hosts. It was still spring, but he'd been lucky to catch early season salmon and had the smoked fillets to prove it. As for the wine, after a great trip to Sicily back in happier times, he was still buying Mount Etna white wines when the opportunity arose, and he was carrying two chilled bottles in a thermos bag. His hosts, Christine and Bill, were old friends, and despite absenting himself from the city for most of the past three years, were good enough to invite him to one of their frequent dinner parties when last week he had announced he would be in town.

"David, it's so good to see you again", Chris said as she opened the door and enveloped him in a hug. Stepping back but still holding his arms, she added "You are a rail, I don't think I've ever seen you so slim and you do look like the old man of the sea", before pulling him through the front door and calling out, "Bill, David's here, come and say hello".

Chris was already leading David into a small sitting area as Bill started to come out of the kitchen. When he caught up with them, Chris sent him back again in a quest for the drinks and snacks they had prepared earlier. As always, the two of them were well organized for the coming party and saw no problem in ceasing preparations to ply David with wine. Once they'd all sat, Chris mostly, and Bill when he could, started peppering him with questions.

"Did you really spend all winter on your boat," Chris asked, before commenting, "How could that have been comfortable?"

"Just about, I did spend several weeks up in the Chilcotin, hunting with Martin and just camping when he had to be away from our camp to put in some time working. I splurged in December and had a new diesel heater installed in the boat and some ventilation to move air around between the cabins. With that it was quite comfortable."

"How is Martin", she asked. "We haven't seen him since the end of the summer when he came up to the cabin with Nick and Susie for several days. It took a lot to get them up there to help Bill clear the trees at the edge of the property and Martin seemed to be the only one who actually knew how to operate the chainsaw. He looked really good."

David glanced at Bill, who clearly had a different view of the chainsaw affair but appeared willing to concede the point rather than enter a lengthy debate this late in the preparations for dinner.

"I'm glad to hear that. He had a tough time for a couple of years, I guess we all did. But he finally finished off his forestry degree and has been working out of Prince George. It seems to agree with him."

"And Susan, how is Susan doing? Is she a doctor yet?

"She's mid-way through her residency, but she graduated two years ago, how I don't know, since she was as upset as Martin back then, and she's not really a doctor until she's certified after residency."

"David, one more question and then I suspect Bill and I should prep for the rest of our guests. They should be here soon. When are you going back up to the boat? Will you be with us for a while?"

"Not really, I'm not here for long. I thought I'd head back up next weekend."

"So soon, do you have to", Chris asked.

"I think so. Its still where I'm most comfortable."

"Well, I'll try to convince you to stay later but for now, if you don't mind, we'll serve the salmon with drinks. Would you do the honours and lay it out for us?"

"Chris, its your salmon now and yes, I'd be pleased to get it ready."

David followed them into the kitchen and started to lay out the salmon filets. It was quiet as each of them focused on the task at hand, so he took the opportunity to ask about the other guests. "Who's coming?"

"Lawyers", Chris replied, rolling her eyes a bit as Bill started the more detailed answer - short story, one couple he knew and six guests he did not.

"David", Chris said in a careful voice that sounded like he had best pay attention, "one of the guests is Rebecca, a rising young star in Bill's firm, and despite her very competent demeanor in the office has seemed a little fragile, at sea so to speak, when we've had her to the house for past gatherings. She is coming with another lawyer that I think she might be seeing. I'm going sit her beside you, so please be nice." Chris seemed to have taken on the role of his late wife in ensuring he behaved in a socially acceptable manner, so the advice was taken in the spirit it was offered.

When Chris was next out of the room, Bill came up beside him and in a quiet voice said, "Usually I'd say Chris was being a little overprotective but in this case David, she may be right. Rebecca is completely faultless in her work and the way she conducts herself in the office but does seem a bit awkward in social settings. Its like night and day, but she is also brilliant and part of the future at the firm, so we're all a little protective."

The doorbell rang and the quiet gathering of three ended with introductions and a swirl of bodies through the house until nine people wound up in the kitchen and adjacent sitting room. Bill and Chris were serving wine and food when the doorbell rang for the final time. David went to open it.

He found himself face to face with a slim, dark-haired young woman, very attractive but looking worried, and beside her, frowning at the sight of him, was the guy he supposed was her date. "You must be Rebecca, I'm David and I'm on door duty. Come on in", he said. They stepped through the door, the guy scowling, and she looking a bit nervous. "You're lucky to have arrived after the rush, things are settling down and becoming a bit more civilized now. Give me your coats and then we can go in".

She smiled slightly and turned to introduce her friend, Simon. That done, she handed him her coat and said, "Thank you sir", before stepping back to wait while he hung it up. He realized Simon didn't have a coat and so put his hand to Rebecca's back and steered her towards the kitchen, leaving Simon to follow. She accepted the guidance without hesitation, almost leaning back into it. Once through the door she turned, giving him a quick smile before the two of them waded into hugs, handshakes, and air kisses. These were all people the two of them were familiar with. He continued into the room, poured himself a glass of the Sicilian wine before realizing Rebecca and Simon might want something to drink as well. Holding up his glass, he caught her eye and mouthed, "want one?" Another smile was the only response he got, so he poured a glass, walked it over to her and retreated from the legal gossip the lawyers in the room had dived into at the first opportunity.

He would have been happy to sit quietly drinking and pushing smoked salmon into his mouth but was joined by Keith, the only other male non-lawyer in the room, who was interested in the salmon and where it had been caught. Keith was clearly a fisherman and the two of them stood happily talking about downriggers, rip currents, fish, and boats.

"Chinook?"

"Yes, winter springs out of Port McNeil."

"Deep?"

"No, a few weeks ago I was seeing them right up to the surface."

"Plugs?"

"No, Coho Killers?"

"What's your boat like?"

"An old Taiwanese-made trawler-style that has lots of teak and not much engine."

"Diesel?"

"Yea."

The conversation continued in that vein for a while before out of the corner of his eye he saw Rebecca break away from the legal gossip and walk over by herself.

"Bill says that this is your salmon and I thought I should come over and tell you how good it is", she said.

"Thank you, but some of the credit has to go to the butcher in Port Hardy who smoked it."

"What were you doing in Port Hardy?"

He was sure she was just being polite and so decided to give her an easy exit, providing the short answer: "I've been operating my boat out of there for the past few months". He could see in her eyes that his answer wasn't enough to satisfy her curiosity, and yet he wasn't ready to be dragged into more detail. Fortunately, Chris began circulating around the room, verbally pushing everyone into the dining room and so once again he found himself steering Rebecca with his hand to the table. While he was pulling out her chair and helping her, he couldn't help but think that, at least this evening, Rebecca was taking direction very well.

The dinner was, as was always the case for Chris and Bill, very good. While Chris is a great cook, David noticed that for this evening, for the first time in his experience, she had engaged a catering crew to at least serve the meal. A sign of increasing prosperity or fatigue with the significant labour the two of them put into entertaining? It was difficult to tell, but it did mean there were fewer interruptions and that the two of them were able to be more involved in the conversations taking place around the table. And the conversations? They were as would be expected between a group of lawyers who were determined not to fall into shop talk at the table and so talked about everything else they were doing: vacations, children, cars, boats, all the trappings of the prosperous lives they now led. He joined in where he could, offered bits and pieces of his own story, which the group seemed to find somewhat exotic, being as they were mostly still very tied to their desks all day, every day, and from time to time he watched Rebecca out of the corner of his eye as she engaged with the other lawyers - she seemed at a loss with the spouses of either sex. After Bill and Chris' comments at the start of the evening he was curious about her and at some point, took a healthy gulp of wine and turned to look at her directly.

When she paused in her conversation with the lawyer beside her, he broke in with a question. "Rebecca, what kind of law do you practice?" There is no doubt that the question surprised her but there was more to her look than that.

She cracked an uncertain smile and replied, "I practice commercial law, mostly focusing on contracts and agreements."

"I understand that you are very good at it too", he said. "Do you enjoy it?"

She flushed a bit at the complement but quickly responded. "I do. I really enjoy the complexity of negotiating and drafting the documents and I seem to be able to keep track of all the details that can make or break an agreement. Its like building a big, difficult puzzle and when its complete there is something tangible that gives me a huge sense of accomplishment. Are you a lawyer?"

"No, unlike you I have no patience for the details."

"What do you do then", she asked?

As he considered giving his usual short answer, he knew that it was unlikely to satisfy her, and could see that Chris watching them out of the corner of her eye, so for the first time in a long time, he prepared himself to put a bit more effort into his reply. "It's a long story but the best summary is that I am retired, and I spend most of my time living on my boat and playing at being a fishing bum. But... until three years ago I owned a small manufacturing business in Vancouver."

Chris went back to her own conversation, and he could see that Rebecca was undecided, she appeared to want to know more but was uncertain how to ask politely. He took pity and continued with his reply. "I was married for 26 years until my wife died four years ago. Her death came on very quickly and it was a shock that led me to lose my interest in the business. I suppose I was lucky to sell it before it crashed and burned."

He saw a brief look of confusion cross her face. "I am sorry to hear about your wife, that must have been very hard for you". She paused long enough that he thought the conversation might be at an end, but she wasn't done yet. "You look too young to be retired, do you regret selling your business", she asked.

"No, fishing bum was about as demanding of a pastime as I wanted for the first year or two after my wife's death and then it became a bad habit. Small businesses don't exactly prosper when you neglect them, so it was for the best." A quick look at Chris suggested she had heard him and was as surprised at his answer as he was. It only left Rebecca at a loss for words for a moment.

"When I was a girl, I used to fish for pike in the lakes in Northern Saskatchewan with my dad and my brothers, she said. I've certainly never caught a salmon, or even a trout. Where do you catch them?"

It was an interesting transition, but he took a deep breath, taking the long road to answering her question by beginning to talk about his last three years. It wasn't a monologue, she asked questions and he tried to answer them, but kept returning to his story. He talked about rebuilding his old,boat, cruising the Westcoast of the Island, the central and north coast, exploring the remote coastline and empty, abandoned native and early settlement communities. Occasionally, someone else would listen, ask a question, but he would soon turn back to the story, describing fishing in spring in the sheltered inside waters, out on the open coast in summer and up into the inlets and estuaries in the fall. In return, he listened as Rebecca talked about fishing and hunting in Saskatchewan with her father and brothers, experiences that were clearly years in the past. The conversation was slow and quiet, she was very soft spoken for a bright young lawyer, and it lasted right through the rest of our time at the table. By the time dinner started to wind up, she was turned towards him and leaning forward as if to have a private conversation. Several times during their conversation, David saw Simon watching them with a frown on his face. It crossed his mind that Simon might be jealous of the attention Rebecca was giving him but given the disparity in their ages that seemed to be unlikely.

As they got up from the table to join the others gathering in the living room, it sounded like Rebecca had enjoyed the conversation. "The way you described your travels, it all sounds a bit exotic, of another world. I would love to see it one day", she said as we went into the living room. The room was beautiful, with a view over English Bay and towards Vancouver Island in the distance. David couldn't resist waving his arm and pointing towards the north, while telling her it was right on her doorstep.

"It is another world, which is why I think I've been able to keep exploring it for the past three years. I could visit a different anchorage every night of the year for years to come and still not see all there is to see, so it engages me like nothing else, and its not so very far beyond what we can see from here. You have only to travel over that horizon", and he pointed, "and the landscape changes, and keeps changing all the way north." Perhaps it was the wine or perhaps he was seeing something in her he wasn't yet conscious of, but he airily extended an invitation that he never expected to be taken up. "If you ever want a guide to introduce you to the Coast, just give me a call."

Not long after that the party started to break up. He had little opportunity to continue with her, if indeed there was anything left to say, so was surprised when Rebecca approached him as the group milled before the door saying their goodbyes. "How long are you in Vancouver for", she asked?

"I want to take some time to see my daughter and I have a few engine parts I have to track down for the boat", he said as he thought aloud about how long he wanted to be here this trip. "I think I'll be in town until next weekend".

"Would you be willing to have lunch with me? I could be free Wednesday if you were able. I would really enjoy hearing more about your travels and perhaps it could be a thank you for telling me your story tonight."

He thought for a moment and decided he could do it, and more importantly, that he would enjoy meeting her again. Chris' earlier cautions had piqued his interest, and while Rebecca was likely 25 years younger than him, he did enjoy her interest. There was a whiff of mystery to her. "I'd enjoy that... so yes, I'd love to meet you for lunch," he said. She gave him a shy but beautiful smile in return. He offered her his business card and suggested that once she was certain she had the time, she text or call to confirm and suggest where they could meet.

Rebecca and Simon were the last to leave. They said their goodbyes and went out the door. David turned to face Chris and Bill and did the same. "Thank you again for the invitation, it was interesting, and the dinner was great. I'll talk to you before I leave town." He leaned in and kissed Chris on the cheek and thinking that she remained as attractive as when he'd first met her, pulled her in for a friendly hug.

Bill reached out and shook his hand. "Would you be free for lunch sometime this week, I didn't get a chance to hear much of what you'd been up to these past few months nor of the fishing?"

"Any day but Wednesday."

"I'll text you tomorrow".

David walked down the driveway and along the street to where his old 4-wheel drive was parked. He stood in front of the bumper gazing out over the city, alight across much of the horizon, and the bay below dotted with the lights of the freighters anchored, waiting their turn in the harbour. The stars were bright, it was later than he had thought, and off to his right a shadow that contrasted with the lights of the city led his eyes northward up the coast. For the first time in years, he thought he might be missing some of this, the vestiges of his former life.

***

The next morning, while he was still waking up, huddled over a cup of coffee, his cell phone buzzed. After a frantic search of pockets, he saw that it was Chris calling and answered it.

"Morning David, its good to see you are up and around", she said.

"Well Chris, that depends on how you define up and around, but yes, I'm awake. Thanks again for last night's dinner, I enjoyed it."

"And thank you, the salmon was delicious, and I saw that there was still a bottle of that lovely Etna wine in the cooler... and it was good to see you again. We've missed you; do you ever miss being here?"