White Spruce Ch 03

WHITE SPRUCE Chapter 3

Dear Mike,

I love you.

That's the most important thing I can think of. It's the one thing that you absolutely have to remember. I love you.

They found me. I don't know how, but it's not important. What is essential, is that you understand why I'm leaving. I have to. I'm frightened. No - actually, I'm terrified. But I'm even more afraid of what might happen to us if I try to avoid this.

I will ask you only thing: please, Mike, before you do anything else: talk to Tess. Please. Before you come looking for me, or raise a stink, or do anything else - talk to her. Don't start any trouble until you've talked to Tess.

If you've ever loved me - and I believe that you do - please talk to Tess first.

I love you.

Claire

***

She was gone.

Claire loved me. She said so three times. But she also asked - or begged, or pleaded - that I talk to Tess. Three times, too.

Was I so stupid that she had to tell me three times? Apparently yes. My first instinct was to throw my little kitchen table through the window. We'd shared several hundred breakfasts and meals there, and I could see Claire's face as if she was sitting there now, smiling at me...

I wanted to punch holes in the walls, bloody my knuckles, or even smash my head against the wall. But she'd made it clear: 'Before you do anything else...' I thought of my Van Guren, and what I might achieve with it.

She knew me. She knew me well. That was why she'd kept it simple, and repeated the 'essentials' three times. I love you. Talk to Tess.

I thought of several things that I could do. Most involved violence. Heart-purging, soul-cleansing, mindless violence. I didn't have a clear target for my anger; I found that I couldn't quite recall the face of the golf member who'd been getting a blowjob as he leered at Claire. How could I find him, if I had no hope of recognizing him?

It was too late to find Tess. The Sand Trap had closed hours ago. Besides, I doubted that I would have been capable of the simple act of listening at that point.

I fell asleep on our couch.

***

I woke late. I was still on nights for one more shift, so it didn't matter. I showered, to clear my head more than anything else, and went over to the Sand Trap. I walked, because if I'd taken the cart, with my Van Guren in its holster, I'd have been tempted to go looking for her, even though I didn't have a clue where she was right now.

Talk to Tess. That was what Claire wanted me to do. Maybe Tess could help me find her. So that was what I would do -

first

.

Tess opened the door before I could knock a second time. She looked me over quickly, and then stood aside, gesturing for me to come inside.

She didn't say anything, but poured two cups of coffee from a fresh pot.

- "Claire wanted me to talk to you first." I said.

- "First?"

- "Before I do anything else."

- "Like what?"

I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't like Tess' tone, either, but Claire had sent me here for a reason.

- "Why did Claire ask me to talk to you?"

Tess came out from behind the bar, and sat down on a stool beside me. She looked me in the eye.

- "I'll tell you everything I know, Mike, but there's a condition: you have to hear all of it. You don't go running out of here before I finish, just because you heard something you don't like."

- "There's something worse than Claire leaving me?"

Tess frowned. "Are you going to listen?"

What choice did I have? "Yes."

- "The man who saw Claire with you is a guest at the Club. He's a friend of one of our members - the one who was getting a blowjob from Mindy."

- "Mindy?"

- "The golf-cart girl."

- "Is she the one who told them how to find Claire?"

Tess didn't answer. Instead, she looked down at my lap. I looked down, too. My hands had been resting on my thighs, but now they were clenched into fists, and my knuckles were white.

- "No. Mindy's not very bright, but when they asked, she told them that she thought Claire worked as a chambermaid."

- "How do you know that?"

- "Because I spoke to her yesterday, right after Claire came to me."

- "What? When was this?"

Tess picked up her coffee cup, and took a sip. She put it down slowly. Deliberately.

- "Claire trusts me. I thought that you did, too."

- "I... I do. I'm sorry." I made an effort, and unclenched my fists.

- "Relax, Mike. Be patient. I'll tell you everything I know."

- "Sorry."

- "Claire came and told me what happened. I got in touch with Mindy right away. The member brought her out to the woods so that they could fuck her there. But once the guest saw Claire... well, that was all he could think about. The member told him that if he wanted her, he could have her."

I felt my hands forming fists again.

"They asked Mindy who she was. Mindy doesn't know Claire, or you, except by sight, but she does know that you're a perimeter guard. She knew Trey. She didn't want to do anything to piss you off, so she made up the chambermaid story."

- "Wait: this girl is afraid of me?"

- "She doesn't know you, Mike. But she didn't rat on Claire. If she had, they would have found her right away. Unfortunately, the guest was persistent, or his friend the member wouldn't let it go. They found her. The guest made her an offer: he asked her to become his mistress. Claire asked for time to consider. The member was there, too; he said that she had 24 hours to decide. Claire came straight back to see me."

- "When?"

- "The day before yesterday."

- "For fuck's sake! She didn't say a word to me!"

- "What would you have said, Mike?" said Tess. "If she had told you about the offer, what would you have done?"

She had a point there.

- "Probably something stupid." I admitted. "But... she loves me. At least I thought she did. She wrote it down three times in her letter. Isn't this the kind of thing you tell the person you love?"

- "Claire loves you, Mike. More than she knew how to tell you. But she knows you, too. She was afraid that you would do something foolish, or noble, or heroic, and utterly futile. She also knew that if she refused this man, all he or his friend had to do was complain to Emerson Howard."

- "The golf pro?"

- "Management. He could have had you separated. Transferred to different locations. That would've been the

best

case scenario. They could have shipped you to the worst possible job in the worst shithole in the Western Hemisphere. They could have forced her to become a Hospitality girl. You'd be shovelling shit, or toxic waste, while she was getting fucked by a dozen soldiers every day."

- "Tess!"

- "You think I'm exaggerating?"

- "But... why would they do that?"

- "Because they wouldn't let Claire refuse. The member knew that. One word to the Head Pro would be all it took. They would never let Claire get away with saying no. Because if they did, then others would be tempted to do the same. Who would serve as Hospitality girls? Who would let the members take them out into the woods and fuck them, out of sight of their wives and mistresses?"

Tess took a deep breath. She was making a major effort to control herself.

"They can't let us win. Not even once. That's how they operate. Never let us hope. Never let us even

imagine

that we can win. Make an example of anyone who hesitates for a second. And someone who says no... well, you know what happened to Sheila."

- "Sheila?"

- "She was asked to become a Hospitality girl. To become a whore for the soldiers. To be abused and degraded. She said no. And she paid for it."

Tess looked me in the eye again.

"Claire loved you too much. She knew what would happen if she said no, but she also knew what could happen to

you

if you made a fuss."

Fuck me. Fuck my life. This couldn't be happening.

- "I need to see her."

- "You can't. The guest flew out last night, with his wife and his new mistress. I'm sorry, Mike, but Claire knew that your relationship was doomed. She chose to save your life, or at least your job. For herself, she chose the lesser of many evils."

***

Talking to Tess didn't make me feel better. In fact, I was devastated. I'd lost Claire.

She was gone.

The man who'd taken her was beyond reach, and might never return to White Spruce. He wouldn't, if he knew what was good for him. But his friend, the member, was still here. I demanded that she tell me his name.

- "You're never going to know that." said Tess.

- "I'll get it from... Mindy."

- "What are you going to do? Beat it out of her? Torture her?"

Damn it! I couldn't do that. And Tess knew it.

- "Why won't you just tell me?"

- "Claire loves you, Mike. She just saved your life. It wasn't a case of sacrificing herself; she was doomed no matter what. But she chose to save you. She made me promise to look out for you. Letting you go rogue and stomp on some member would lead directly to your death. Can't you see that?"

I could. It didn't make it any easier for me to accept.

I wanted to break something. Many things. I wanted to hurt someone. Not Mindy. Not someone who didn't deserve it. And I did understand that beating the shit out of one over-entitled club member could only lead to serious trouble - and that would spoil everything that Claire had tried to save for me.

Tess gave me a sleeping pill.

- "Go home, and take this. You need time to think, but you need some rest before your night shift. You look like you're running on fumes as it is. Trust me: you have all the time in the world to think about this. And there will be plenty of nights that you'll wish you didn't."

***

News travelled fast.

The day after my last night shift, there was a knock on my door. It was Alicia, bearing a tray of food she'd prepared for me.

I wasn't much of a cook (which she knew), and I didn't have the courage or the nerve to show my face at the Sand Trap. It was actually a very nice gesture on her part. I thanked her, but didn't invite her in.

I looked like shit, for one thing, and I wasn't in the mood for company.

- "I'm so sorry, Mike." she said. "I don't know what else to say."

- "Thanks, Alicia."

- "Let me know if there's anything I can do for you." she said.

- "Okay. Thanks."

Nicole and Anne arrived together, after their shifts, each bringing food. I thanked them, too. They expressed their condolences, and pleaded with me to tell them if there was anything they could do for me.

Celine showed up literally two minutes after they had gone. Apparently Celine couldn't cook any more than I could, but she'd purchased a take-out platter from the Sand Trap, and brought it over. Thanks. Condolences.

Honestly? It was nice, in a way, but it was also an interruption. An intrusion. I just wanted to wallow in my misery.

Ashra was next, bearing a tray of lasagna that was still warm.

- "I'm so sorry, Mike." she said. She then reached out with both arms and hugged me. I wasn't expecting it, and almost dropped the lasagna.

It was awkward. Painfully awkward. Thanks. Repeated condolences. Ashra offered to come in and heat up the lasagna for me.

- "Thanks, Ashra. I... I appreciate it. Really. But..."

- "I understand." she said. "But please - let me know if you need anything. Anything. Really."

- "Thanks."

By contrast, most of my male acquaintances said little or nothing. Most of the perimeter guards looked at me, but never said anything. Alan clapped me on the shoulder, and said 'Tough break, man.'

Tough break? It was as if I'd made a parlay bet, only to lose the last game because of a fluke touchdown in garbage time that beat the spread. Tough break? I'd lost the most wonderful woman I'd ever met. The love of my life was gone.

- "Hang in there, bud." said Deron.

Ibrahim waited until we were out on patrol.

- "I was told what happened." he said. "I am very sorry for your loss."

The words were carefully chosen. I hadn't told him; he'd heard it from someone else. But he seemed genuinely sympathetic.

- "Thank you." I said.

The apartment just felt... empty. The emptiness reminded me that Claire wasn't there, and that she wasn't coming back. I hated that, but I didn't want to move back into a single; it felt like that would somehow mean that I was leaving her, or her memory.

I finished my night shifts, and spent my day off staring at the walls. I didn't do a single useful thing.

Then I was back on days. I ate the food that the girls had left for me - except for Celine's. The Sand Trap's food wasn't horrible, but it was meant to be consumed on site, or as soon as possible. After three days sitting in my fridge, I wasn't sure that it was even edible.

I washed out the containers belonging to the other girls, and took them to the Sand Trap, where I presented them to Alicia.

- "Can you return these to their rightful owners?" I asked. "And thanks again."

- "Why don't you have a seat, Mike? Let me get you a beer. The girls should be in soon. They've all been asking about you. How you're doing, you know?"

- "No, that's okay. Thanks. I've got some things to do. Just... just tell them I'm fine. I'll see you later."

I made a quick strategic withdrawal. I wasn't fit for human company. The girls were all very nice, but there was no way on earth that I wanted to have their well-meant questions. I couldn't trust myself not to lash out at them.

The urge to break things, or to hurt someone very, very badly was still there. It just wasn't a boiling rage any more; it was more of a simmering anger. No, that's not right, either: it was festering resentment.

I couldn't even stand my own company. Everything looked shitty to me. Everything tasted shitty. My own saliva felt like vomit.

Ibrahim was the only one who treated me right. I don't know if he was afraid to approach me, or if he really understood, but he did exactly the right thing: he didn't say anything. We rode the perimeter, scanned the fence, and stayed silent the entire time.

I started buying beer and rye whiskey from the Staff store, instead of going to the Sand Trap. I made an amazing discovery: if I was thoroughly hammered, I could sleep. I couldn't remember going to bed, but I woke up between the sheets. Sure, I felt like shit in the morning, but it was better than lying awake all night.

Alicia saw me one day, shovelling empty pizza boxes and empty beer cans into the recycling bins. I don't know if she made a disapproving face, because I made sure to avoid eye contact.

Nicole came by one evening, with another tray of food. I was only halfway drunk.

- "You didn't have to do that." I told her.

- "You can't live on pizza alone." she said.

- "So Alicia ratted me out? Is that all you do with your time? Talk about me?"

- "Of course we talk about you, Mike. You're our friend. We worry about you."

- "Well, you don't have to."

Poor little Nicole. She was tiny, and I towered over her like some ill-mannered ogre. She was only trying to help, however little I wanted her to. She didn't burst into tears, or anything melodramatic like that - thank goodness. Instead, she placed her tray of food at my feet, and turned away.

Okay, that made me feel worse.

The next night (after a day shift), I resolved not to drink myself into a stupor. Instead, I drove the cart to an isolated stretch of the perimeter road. No, I couldn't go back to my favourite spot -

our

favourite spot - that had been permanently polluted.

But I knew of a good place where I could sit undisturbed, and look up at the stars. I had some questions for them.

What had I done to deserve this? What had Claire ever done to deserve such a fate? Could they not have left us alone? We weren't hurting anyone.

The stars didn't answer, of course. The trees had nothing to say, either. I had thought, growing up, that the trees were my friends, in a way. But they offered no comfort. Like Ibrahim, they were just... there. They didn't seem to be judging me, or criticizing. I could lean on them - literally. That was the extent of their silent support.

Meanwhile, I realized, I had real people trying to help me. Claire's friends, but mine, too. They were trying to be there for me, and I was practically pissing on them. What a wonderful guy I was.

I was having some sort of excremental, out of body experience. My life had turned to shit, but I didn't have to dump that on people who were on my side.

My father suffered when my mother left us, but he hadn't turned into a complete asshole.

When my mother left us

...

The tears came pouring out of me. It was an unstoppable flood. The realization hit me like a tidal wave. My mother hadn't left us. She was a beautiful woman. She'd been taken. Just like Claire, she'd been presented with an ultimatum, and she'd chosen to accept her doom, to protect her husband and her infant son from retribution.

I cried for my loss, all over again. My losses. It was the same thing, the same situation. I cried for my father, who'd been shattered by the experience. How had he felt, to have his own son consider him a weak, broken man? But he'd never explained it to me. Couldn't he have told me what happened to him? To us?

I'd felt betrayed by my mother. Abandoned. She never had a chance to explain, and my father never told me what had really happened. She'd had no more choice than Claire.

Claire...

You

can

cry yourself out. I think that my tear ducts were finally wrung dry.

It was late, but I had something important to do. I drove to the Sand Trap. They were about to close. There were only four customers left in the place. Alicia was filling the dishwasher.

- "Mike?"

- "I'm sorry, Alicia." I said. "You've been trying to help me, and I've been acting like an asshole."

She didn't know what to say to that.

- "Well... you... you've been hurting."

- "It's no excuse. I'm sorry. But I need to talk to Tess. Is she in?"

- "Right here." said the bar manager. She was standing in the doorway of her little office.

- "Umm... could I have a word?"

- "Alright." Tess went back into her office, but left her door open. I followed, went in, and closed it behind me.

Tess didn't say anything, but waited for me to speak.

- "I figured something out tonight." I said. "About... about my mother."

- "

Finally

." breathed Tess.

- "What?"

- "Claire told me about your mother, Mike. I even looked her up."

- "Wait - what? Claire told you?"

- "She didn't raise the subject with you, because she wasn't sure how you'd take it. But she asked me. I did some research. Your mother wasn't transferred, Mike. Nor did she request another posting. She simply disappeared from Kenora Pines. That's how they do it; Claire's gone, and there's no record of her leaving. So it's entirely possible that your mother didn't want to leave you. Or your father."

- "I don't think she did. She didn't have a choice, did she?"

Tess sighed. "I was waiting for you to make the connection, Mike. I can't be 100% sure, of course, but I suspect that your mother loved you. She didn't abandon you. Neither did Claire."

Tear ducts can refill quickly. Somehow, I managed to cry again.

"It's a good thing, Mike." said Tess. "Now you know that the most important women in your life didn't leave you. They were taken away. It's not the same thing."

It still hurt, just... not quite as bad. Knowing - or at least being able to believe - that my mother hadn't left us by choice was a consolation of sorts.

- "I should have known." I said. "I feel... stupid. More stupid. Why am I so dense? So blind?"

- "You're neither of those things. Naive, maybe. Innocent, for sure."

- "Innocent?"

- "Your father sheltered you, by not telling you the truth. But by trying to protect you, he left you very vulnerable. Your education certainly didn't help."