Outside Forces

PART I

CHAPTER 1

Late June, Friday 08:45 Calgary, Alberta, Canada

A wastrel like Garrod Shaw wasn’t difficult to shadow since his release from jail—not for a man such as Willard Mahoney, that is. Willard had spent years drifting from street to street and town to town, living amongst the most vile, contemptible, and directionless group of bottom-feeder drug users the human population had spawned. Living invisible inside the seedier segments of our society was how he earned his living, and Garrod Shaw was just one more wretched miscreant he was hired to track down.

The stubble on Willard’s face was spotted with dirt and grime and his shoulder-length hair was greasy and sat in clumps that poked up in odd angles. He sat up, unable to sleep any longer in the sweltering heat of the tiny, second-story bedroom. He tried unsuccessfully to flatten his hair with one hand as he looked across the dingy room. A thin crack of light broke in around the edges of the tin foil that was fastened to the small window with dried up and yellowing Scotch tape. The sun had risen a while ago. A raw, pungent smell of sweat and urine stung his nostrils.

A mattress lay on the floor. His companion from last night lay sprawled out, naked, with one arm hanging limply over the side and stretched out across the soiled carpet. Next to her hand sat an overfilled ashtray, two empty beer bottles, and her bra.

She looked dead.

It wouldn’t be the first time he had woken up next to someone who had overdosed.

Her face was turned down into her ragged pillow and her scrawny limbs and buttocks stared up at him. He liked his partners scrawny, small, and lean like him; he liked to feel bone beneath skin as he thrust his hips and pounded away. He contemplated rolling her over for one more go.

What the hell was her name? Betty…Becky…? He shook his head and blamed his inability to recall her name on letting himself slide much too far last night.

Beneath the window, his blue jeans and underwear lay in a small clump. It had been four days since he last had a change of clothes or a shower.

He dressed slowly. There was never any hurry in the world in which he chose to earn his living. Each day began with no future and ended with no past. A different street, a strange roof, ever-changing faces: these were the only always certain things. It was a place where all roads for those who lived down here spiralled inwards to wherever the next fix was eventually found.

His thoughts ruminated on last night’s gathering—cocaine, meth, crack, heroin, weed, and an endless array of prescription drugs. Willard always steered himself towards the weed if he could, avoiding the harder, more addictive drugs that rolled in and out the door like fast food at a drive-through window.

But last night was the exception. It was necessary to release the shackles and allow himself to slide nearly out of control. Garrod Shaw arrived, as expected, at this little shit-hole of a house and the deadline his employers gave him for Shaw was approaching.

Shaw had frequented this same drug portal in Calgary’s Ogden neighbourhood since he was released from custody a number of weeks ago. Willard was on his tail the moment he placed his first foot back into the free world. He was certain there was nothing left by now but lint lining the bottom of Shaw’s pockets.

The white lady was the reason Garrod Shaw showed up at the Ogden house and the reason he always returned. It was the only drug he found that offered instant escape from the sobering real world—the one drug that would never let go.

The whispers down on the street surrounding Garrod Shaw’s presence at the drug house started immediately. And one by one, the bottom feeders crawled out for their own look-see at the man who had done the most horrible and unthinkable act imaginable.

The resident master of the shit-hole didn’t care what crime Garrod Shaw may or may not have committed, but he also couldn’t help but smile each time one of his less frequent customers arrived for a viewing. The price of admission was always a purchase.

Garrod Shaw had almost become legendary with the way he thumbed his nose at law enforcement and cackled in front of the press upon his release.

You ain’t ever can touch me! he had said with a huge grin. His heavy jowls jiggled as he broke into a laugh. Yup… he said while placing his hands together as if choking an imaginary person. He shook them violently up towards the cameras. …I killed all three of them little bastards. He laughed again proudly. I did. I just said it now and there ain’t a damn thing any of you is gonna do about it. He cackled. I’m a free man. You heard the courts, I’m free and you ain’t ever can touch me—ever.

The tragedy at the small lakeside house came as no surprise to those who knew Garrod Shaw in his teens. Most steered clear; touched was the word most used to describe him.

Infamy did have its benefits—but only in all the wrong places. And the wrong place is exactly where Garrod Shaw was headed.

Willard had been leaning up against the chipped and dirty porcelain sink in the kitchen with his hands tucked deep into his pockets when Shaw ambled in. There was no mistaking the desperation in his shifting, jittery eyes as he scanned the faces of those already inside—seeking out that certain someone who might be open to sharing a fix. The house was crowded. Smoke swirled about and the Stones sang about a girl named Ruby in the background.

It only took a slight nod from Willard across the room as their eyes touched, accompanied by a faint squint with a half-smile, and Shaw was soon smiling and twitching anxiously a few feet in front of him.

Willard motioned down with his eyes as he pulled one hand up a few inches out of his pocket.

Shaw looked down and his eyes brightened.

You want? Willard asked and tilted his head towards the short hall that led to the two tiny back bedrooms.

Shaw’s eyes were still staring down at the small dime-sized plastic bag containing the white lady that was sandwiched between Willard’s slender fingers.

Yeah. He grinned wildly.

CHAPTER 2

Friday 18:04 Calgary, Alberta, Canada

A gentle breeze from the open apartment window sent small waves of goosebumps snaking across Michael’s naked body. Lucy felt him shiver and pulled up the cotton sheet to cover them both.

A smile broke onto his face. It was hard not to smile today.

That was good, he said.

Only good?

A wide grin formed and he kissed her once on the lips. Okay, it was better than good. It was as if…. He tried to be witty. …as if God had lifted me up to the gates of heaven, and when the gates were opened, you were there, all naked and sexy. I can never get enough of you. He smothered her slender body with kisses, from her perfectly shaped breasts down to her navel.

Oh, stop it. She giggled, mussed his fine, charcoal coloured hair and ran her slender fingers down along the curve of his spine. Goosebumps surfaced again and chased the path of her fingers. He loved it when she touched him.

Lucy had texted Michael earlier after completing her final exam of the year. She suggested he come by her apartment once he was free. Michael was very free, having completed the last of his dreaded finals more than an hour before. She didn’t have to ask him twice.

Can I come in by the front door now? he texted back.

Yes. It’s over.

For sure this time?

She had told him the same thing multiple times over the past few weeks, only to find she still hadn’t finished it.

He’s left town.

Those were the words he’d waited weeks to hear.

I’m on my way.

Michael was pleased. Having to egress her off-campus apartment by the rear entrance next to the trash bins with the key she entrusted to him was demeaning. Johnny would never have descended to such a level. But she insisted it remain this way until Johnny was out of the picture.

He didn’t even really know who Johnny was. He only met him once up close, and that was three months ago. But it was clear that Johnny was everything Michael wasn’t: tall and broad in the chest, muscular, and magazine-cover handsome with jet-black hair. He was dark in complexion and had bleached-white teeth that enhanced an already perfect smile.

Lucy had once boasted that Johnny was on the University of Calgary basketball team and a potential candidate for the Canadian Olympic team in mogul skiing.

Yahoo for him, Michael thought sarcastically. And, of course, Johnny was always fashionably dressed.

When Michael looked in the mirror, a pale, scrawny eighteen-year-old stared back at him. He was tall with a crooked smile, and a new zit was always threatening to break through somewhere on his dimpled face. And…was one of his eyes lower than the other?

Michael’s awkward adolescent gait still lingered, causing him to look more like a lanky high-school teenager than a young man in his first year at university. He purposely steered clear of team sports and any activity that would place him in the spotlight—he was not the type of guy most popular pretty girls were attracted to.

Though Michael had already resigned himself to owning the gene that made him a bona fide back-of-the-pack follower, it didn’t extinguish his desire for what all hormonal teenagers wanted. And that, for Michael, was Lucy. He’d met her fleetingly during the first semester, and she seemed to cross his path often. His knees would buckle and his insides knot up whenever she was near. Her satin hair glistened like she was some princess out of a fairy tale, and her eyes shimmered and sparkled like the blue waters of the Caribbean. When he did attempt to speak to her, he turned punch drunk and could only babble broken, nonsensical sentences. At the end of the day, he’d find himself back behind the protective walls of his dorm feeling a fool; and try as he might to stop himself, just the thought of one day caressing her soft skin had him beating himself silly before he fell asleep each night. He wanted Lucy. He wanted Lucy so very badly.

In the second semester, Michael discovered Lucy was enrolled in many of the same courses he was. The coincidence was an alarming surprise. He immediately began to pick away at Lucy—being polite, offering kind comments, opening the door, helping her with her homework, and even spewing forth the odd lame joke. Lucy was not like other girls, and didn’t run away or brush him off when he acted the boyish idiot. Like him, he suspected, she needed a friend, and over time she warmed to him. But he wanted more than just to become a friend or mate. It was all of her that he desired.

The slow pursuit of Lucy continued through the second semester and into the third. It all seemed to be working in Michael’s favour until he arrived, the new male campus God named Johnny. It was if he flew in on wings of gold, and as he walked the halls, the eyes of every female turned in wonder as they hoped to catch his eye, but Johnny seemed to have his eyes on Lucy alone. Johnny pursued Lucy day after day, never submitting to her brush-offs, until she fell victim to his spell. And just like that, Lucy was gone.

In the days that followed, Michael rarely saw Lucy around campus, and his heart fell. He’d pick at his food in the cafeteria, waiting and watching the lunch line, the halls, and the criss-crossing paths on campus in search for that slight bounce she had at the end of each step or the recognizable sheen that the sun cast off her golden hair.

Lucy began to miss classes. When she did show, she slipped in late and sat far away from him on the opposite side of the theatre, as if on purpose.

As each day passed by without a glimpse of Lucy, Michael’s sky darkened more and more until every day felt completely overcast, leaving his heart saddened under a steady, cold drizzle.

And then it happened. It was a fleeting, spurious moment as he rushed around one corner late to class and nearly trampled right over her. She faked a smile at him, but it was incomplete. Hastily, she turned away and quickened her pace down the crowded hall away from him. He closed his mouth; he was certain his jaw dropped open so far in surprise that it hit the floor. Seconds later, he was chasing after her, pushing madly through the crowd and calling for her to stop until he finally grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

Lucy, hold up! Please. I want to talk to you. We should get together. I miss studying with you, and just…

Her eyes said it all as she looked at him and his shoulders sunk.

…just hanging out with you.

It was the first time she so blatantly spurned him and she turned away without so much as a word.

Lucy, please stop for a second. One arm reached forward in a wishful gesture.

Go away, Michael. I’m going to be late for class, she said coldly without even glancing towards him.

C’mon, Lucy! Like old times.

I really have to go, she said and picked up her pace.

Michael’s next class was in the opposite direction, and he slowed down, letting her move on alone.

We really should get together soon, he called out. Call me sometime!

Many students bumped his shoulders, nudging to get past, as he stood in the centre of the crowded hall and watched her vanish. His pillow captured his tears again later that night as he wept after beating himself out one more time.

And then, a few weeks after the big rejection in the hallway, Lucy called him and asked if she could come over. She had barely sat down in his tiny campus room when she erupted into tears and crumpled into a ball next to him. He knew he should reach out to her, hold her and caress her, but his inner voice trumped out what he knew was the proper response. By the time his mind sorted it out, the moment had passed and she had already moved on. Even in her moment of need, he floundered.

I made a big mistake with Johnny, she said. He’s suffocating me. I had to lie to him just now to get away and come over here without him following me. He just won’t leave me alone. Every minute of every day, he wants to know where I am, what I’m doing, and where I’m going. He was so nice at first, so gentle, but now…he just swears and curses at me constantly.

Michael’s heart lifted at the realization that he was the sole recipient of her troubles. Through her trembling words, the softness within each of her breaths sounded like music to his ears.

I tried to break it off with him, but he won’t listen to me. I’m tired of it. He won’t leave me alone and he follows me everywhere I go. I just don’t know what to do anymore.

Though her pain tore at his heart, he still couldn’t find it in himself to reach out to her, to help her, or to even hold her. The best he could manage was to listen and nod every once in a while or follow up with a smile. He was dying inside. He mashed his fists up to his temples when she turned away to wipe her eyes. Think! She needs you now. Hold her! Do something!

…and what’s worse is that every time I try to break it off, I end up giving in to him. Every time.

The hours passed as Lucy talked and Michael listened. When she was done letting her heart bleed out, she picked up her purse and opened his door, preparing to leave, but stopped midway. She turned halfway around and shot a smile at him. As he had done so many times before, he mirrored her smile. Don’t go, his heart said, but his lips remained still in their sheepish smile. All the while he knew he was missing the most precious opportunity ever presented to him. Do something before she leaves! Do anything! His mind blanked out and his arms lay heavy at his side.

But she didn’t leave. Instead, she placed one hand on his arm. Her touch was light and gentle at first, and then she squeezed, making him want to pull away, but he resisted. A strange energy shot through him, making his legs quiver, and though he still wanted to pull away, he wouldn’t do it. Not this time.

A voice screamed inside his head. Just do it! You know you want to! Just do it!

His arms flailed awkwardly out to his sides and upwards as he grabbed hold, pulled her into his arms, and embraced her. It was a most unusual feeling—confining, yet somehow natural and instinctive. Relief followed seconds later as she didn’t push him away and instead increased her hold on him as if he was her last hope. Against his ribs, her chest heaved repeatedly in gated breathes as she tried desperately not to cry.

Without a word, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him for the very first time. It was a short kiss—firm and intentional. She wiped away a tear and smiled. The kiss carried with it the many unspoken words of his heart’s desire and asked the foreboding questions that lie woven within its roots—questions that were unanswerable within the moment: Are you…? Do you…? Will you…? Am I…? Should we…? Dare we…? all twisted and gnarled into an emotional frenzy.

A raging fire burned deep inside him and it ran away like a freight train driven by a hundred coal-fired engines. The surface of his heart sizzled, and he felt it getting ready to combust. Yes, his heart said, yes to all desire, and yes to the moment.

Michael, she whispered. She looked deep into his eyes. I’ve been so stupid. Her words were gentle and soft, spoken in a manner as if nothing before was ever so clear to her. It’s you….

Lucy’s eyes danced on Michael’s, looking from one to the other, until she closed her own and kissed him again. It was enough to cause Michael’s knees to weaken and he struggled to stay upright. She placed one hand flat onto his chest and pushed him up against the wall while closing the front door behind her with her foot.

His head bobbed to the side as he tried to speak. No words came out.

Shhh, she said, and gently touched his lips with one finger. With one of her hands gripped in his, she led him down the short hall to the place he had grown accustomed to bedding down alone with only her image in his mind to keep him company at night.

In the moments that followed, Michael’s world changed. They made love and it was if he had ascended to heaven.

It was over with Johnny, and Michael couldn’t have been more happy. Lucy wanted him today, tomorrow, and every day, telling him that she had been a fool to ever get hooked up with Johnny. But there was one thing she asked of Michael: Johnny scared her, and until Johnny was gone, she insisted they meet in secret.

Michael accepted her terms unconditionally. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Lucy. If he had to sneak around through the shadows for a week or two, it was a condition he could easily accept.

No one can know about us, Michael, she said. No one.

I understand, he replied.

No, Michael. I mean it. Until I get rid of Johnny, we can’t be seen together, ever! And that means you can’t even tell any of your friends. Not yet. You understand, don’t you?

Michael did understand. Lucy was terrified of Johnny and had no idea what he was capable of.

Now, many weeks later, looking back it all seemed like a dream; and Johnny was finally out of the picture.

…And so, no more sneaking around now that he’s gone? Michael asked.

She offered up a smile, but he sensed she was still worried.

We won’t, will we? he asked.

She shook her head. No. I told you, he’s gone.

I hope so. Having to sneak in past the trash bins to see you is not exactly what I had in mind. What finally got through to him?

She shook her head. He just called me first thing this morning and said it was over. He was leaving for Mexico. He acted like it was his idea to break up all along. After all these weeks of him resisting and cursing at me, he just seemed to give up on us.

Weird.

She turned and placed her head on his chest. He was hard and bumpy all over. I like you much better. So smooth and soft.

Michael giggled as she ran one hand across his chest and poked him beneath his ribs in his skinny belly.

He really was an impossible individual, she said. I never met anyone like him before.

And just like that, he’s gone?

She nodded.

And you don’t think he’ll come running back?

You know who my father is, Michael. I told him I was going home for the summer. Johnny won’t be calling me or knocking on my dad’s door. That’s for certain.

Everyone knew who her father was. Her father’s resume was as large and intimidating as the man himself. He was an outspoken, high-profile lawyer who was repeatedly in the news each time he successfully defended another precedent- setting case.

Michael laughed. You’re right on that. He reached out and pulled Lucy in closer. But you’re not going home, are you? For the summer I mean….

You know I’m not. Dad’s always working and mom’s always got these weird projects going on in the summer. She snuggled closer to Michael, gently running one hand across his chest. She thinks of herself as some art aficionado. She’s always at some art show or fundraiser. I wouldn’t expect to see much of either of them if I went home to stay.

He kissed her affectionately. Just making sure. You, me, and ten days hiking the West Coast Trail next week with nothing but what we can carry on our backs. I can hardly wait.

She kissed him back. And just the one-night stop in Victoria first. Dad’s really not as scary as what they make him out to be in the papers. And Mom’s a doll. She’ll love you.

He laughed. The image of him sitting down for dinner with the likes of such a man he knew only from the news and TV was a bit terrifying. But it was only for one night and then they would be off to the west coast part of Vancouver Island for ten days of uninterrupted hiking. The hiking trip was her idea. It was what drove her at times. At every opportunity, Lucy would set out up some mountain, scrambling her way to the top, rain or shine. Sometimes she even ventured out in the snow. Alone or with friends, it didn’t matter to Lucy, as long as she was one with the mountains and nature. The more challenging the mountain, the stronger her desire was to climb.

Lucy rolled over onto her side and Michael moved with her, spooning her. Life was perfect. He held her tight and squeezed her gently. The strawberry aroma from her shampoo wafted from her silky blonde hair. It was a smell he’d become accustomed to, and he breathed it in as if it was fleeting and about to vanish. He wanted to savour her smell forever.

They lay there together upon Lucy’s bed, coddled against each other, chit-chatting through the details of their trip along the coast. Many of Michael’s summers as a young teenager were spent in the Rockies with his father and older sister. He knew how draining it could be at times to hike for days in the backcountry, yet he looked forward to escaping into the wilderness again. And because it was with Lucy, he knew it was to be the beginning of something special.

A sudden knock on the apartment door startled them both. The knock was immediately followed by an unwelcome voice.

Lucy? the voice called out. Open up. It’s me.

Another knock quickly followed and echoed in the small apartment.

Shit! Lucy whispered. It’s him. She threw the sheet aside, exposing her nakedness, and jumped off the bed, unsure of what to do.

Who? Michael whispered back. Not Johnny?

Yes, Johnny.

Lucy! Johnny thumped on the door. The front lock rattled as a key was inserted.

What the fuck? Michael whispered. I thought you said he was gone?

I thought he was. That’s the problem. He’s like a bloody boomerang. Her eyes lit with a frantic glow and she searched the room until her eyes landed back onto the bed. Quick. Get under the bed, Michael.

Michael didn’t hesitate. He flung himself off the bed and onto the floor and began to shimmy his naked body into the small cramped space underneath.

Johnny? Her voice was timid and fragile. She wasn’t sure if Johnny even heard her. He’d asked her for a key four weeks ago, and she stupidly handed over one of her spares. She recalled how annoyed he had been when she asked for it back a week later. He told her he lost it.

The sound of the lock turning and the bolt shunting back caused her to freeze for a second. There was no time to freeze.

Here! Take these! she whispered forcefully. She squatted, shoved Michael’s underwear, jeans, T-shirt, and socks under the bed with him and quickly scrambled into a pair of jeans and a sweater.

The front door opened and slammed against the chain. She let out a sigh of relief. She had remembered to put the chain across.

Lucy, open up, Johnny said calmly through the crack.

Lucy moved cautiously out from the bedroom towards the front door as she pulled up the zipper on her jeans and flattened her sweater.

Please, Lucy. I know you’re in there because of the chain. I only need a minute. I’m not here to stay and I’m not going to try to talk you out of breaking up with me. Like you said, it’s over. I only need a moment. Please. Just open the door.

Johnny’s silhouette shifted eerily as a dark mass within the small crack of the open front door. She glanced back into the bedroom. Michael’s elbow protruded from the shadow as he wiggled his way deeper under the bed towards the wall.

Johnny? She tried to sound calm. I was having a nap. What are you doing here? I thought you were going to Mexico today.

Johnny’s rapid and heavy breathing made her feel even more unsettled as she neared the door.

One minute, that’s all I need. He lifted a finger up in front his face where Lucy could see it. Please. Let me say goodbye properly. School’s done for the year, and I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.

You told me you lost your key.

Johnny chuckled. I found it. He dangled it up in the air in front of her.

Lucy hesitated for a moment, released a heavy sigh, and reached up to remove the chain.

CHAPTER 3

Friday 18:10 Canmore, Alberta, Canada

Richard Crowder pulled the chair back for his new wife. She slipped her delicate yet lean athletic body easily into the wicker seat on the patio that overlooked the eighteenth hole.

A gin and tonic please, Richard. She adjusted her sunhat and sunglasses to shield her eyes from the evening sun.

Richard nodded. He didn’t wait for the waitress and headed inside to the bar to place the order. His cell phone rang as he returned to the table. It was his daughter.

Tawnie. Are you on your way? he asked.

I’m just leaving.

Oh good. I was hoping you hadn’t changed your mind about coming. She had never accepted an invitation to come camping or hiking with him since the divorce. This weekend, she agreed to do both: camping at Bow Valley Provincial Park and hiking with him and Michelle up one of the mountains in the valley.

Tawnie sighed into the phone. I said I’m coming, Dad, so I’m coming.

Richard forced a small laugh.

Sorry, he said. Did you remember to bring your good shoes? It’s gonna be a tough climb up the mountain tomorrow.

She laughed. I’m the one that’s done the Heart Mountain Loop before. You have no idea what you two are even in for. I hope you’ve both been keeping up at the gym.

Well, sort of….

She laughed again. You are going to be sore when we get back if you haven’t been on the treadmill. What site number are you booked into?

C-11. Right on the river. Richard liked to hear his daughter laugh, and he looked forward to seeing her tonight.

Are you there now? she asked. It shouldn’t take me much more than an hour to get out there.

We’re in Canmore at the moment. At Silvertip.

So you did make it out golfing after all. How was it?

It’s a really nice course and a great day to enjoy it. Not a cloud in the sky. We’re just grabbing a quick drink on the patio and then we’ll head back to the campground. You’ll probably get there before us, so make yourself at home, grab a beer, snacks, whatever. Spare key is in the cooker outside.

C-11, she repeated. I’ll see you in a while.

Love you, Tawnie.

I love you too, Dad. See you soon.

Richard set the phone down just as the drinks arrived. He looked at his new wife. They had only been married eight short months. It was her striking beauty that had attracted him to her when he first spotted her at one of his seminars. Her eyes, deep pools of Caribbean blue, had made it difficult to pull his eyes away from her as he spoke before the small crowd. He didn’t know at the time she was wearing coloured contacts, but it was enough to capture his full attention. Today, her eyes were a mottled emerald green, currently hidden beneath her oversized designer sunglasses.

This will be a first for Tawnie, he said.

It’s about time, Richard. I don’t know why she dislikes me so much.

She doesn’t dislike you.

She doesn’t come over to dinner when invited and never drops by.

That’s not exactly true.

Oh, you’re right. She’ll drop by when she knows I’m working late or out on assignment.

And that’s not fair, either. We’ve been over this many times. She took the divorce very personally. She felt like she had to take sides and, of course, took Ashley’s side.

She still doesn’t have to be a little bitch to me. I didn’t do anything to her. I’m always reaching out to her and I never get anything back. How many times have I invited her to dinner or lunch? She hasn’t ever accepted. Not once.

"The word bitch is a little strong, don’t you think? And she is coming out tonight and staying for the whole weekend."

Michelle huffed and adjusted her sunhat. We’ll see if it works out that way. She’ll probably pack up and leave an hour after we get back.

Richard sighed. Well, don’t push her buttons. You know what I mean.

I’m not holding back, Richard. If she gets defensive because of me, I’m not holding back from saying something I’d say to anybody else.

I’m not asking you to. I’m just asking you to be sensitive.

Oh come on, Richard. She’s twenty-one already. What she really needs sometimes is a good slap.

Richard took a long sip of his drink. Rebutting her comments would only escalate things. No need to stir up an argument. This was supposed to be a happy weekend away in the mountains.

You and Michael get along well, he said.

Now there’s a sweetheart. And that boy doesn’t talk back like you-know-who does.

He’s three years younger than Tawnie. He was thirteen when all the shit went down with Ashley. He was too young to remember.

Thirteen? Oh, he remembers. It’s just that he’s a boy and he’s just like his father.

Richard chuckled. He is a good kid. But Michael was not like him at all. He tried not to think of how difficult Michael’s early teen years were.

Is he even coming at all this weekend? Michelle asked. Out to the campsite?

I don’t think so. He’s almost done with his first-year exams. He said he was heading to the coast for a few weeks on Sunday with some new girl he met. I think her name is Lucy, Lucy Carter. He’ll be staying with us for the summer once he gets back. I’m supposed to meet up with him next Friday to pick his things up from the dorm. He scratched his head, confused by what he just said.

Lucy? He’s got a girl now? You never told me about this.

He called me yesterday. The last of his finals is today…. He looked down at his watch—…was today. The two of them are heading out to the island to do some hiking.

Island. What island?

Vancouver Island. She’s from Victoria. Michael’s conflicting statements had him thinking again. But then again, girls do strange things to young boys’ minds.

Then they’ll be going right by the park if they’re driving out to the coast. Surely they’ll stop in? Michelle suggested.

He said they were flying. Her dad’s picking up the fares.

Her dad is paying to fly them both out to Vancouver Island?

It surprised me, too. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. Michael said her dad’s loaded and offered to pay for both of them.

She sounds like a keeper.

He couldn’t help but laugh at her perception. Just because her father has money doesn’t mean she’s a keeper.

Michelle reached over and patted Richard on the arm. But it’s a good starting point, don’t you think?

Yeah, I guess.

His thoughts drifted to his own recent success as a media consultant. One book on the best sellers’ list for Educational Literature and a fully booked speaking tour were his results. Another book was due out next month. He leaned back and let the unusually hot June sun bake down on him as he rested his eyes.

But what about Michael? Michael’s plans over the next few days didn’t quite make sense. How could he pick up Michael from the dorm next Friday if Michael was leaving on Sunday to go hiking along the coast this weekend for ten days with this new girl of his? He must have misunderstood Michael.

Michelle sipped at her drink as she people-watched. Two gentlemen slipped into the seats at the table next to them. One was elderly, large, heavyset, and wore a black cowboy hat, paisley-patterned shirt, and jeans. The other was younger; a thin man, Asian, late forties, with short hair that was greying on the edges. He appeared nervous, and was dressed in full business attire, complete with a blood-red tie. The hot sun beat down on him, making him appear uncomfortable enough to move his chair around to catch part of the shade from the umbrella at the next table.

Michelle tapped Richard on the arm.

I know them, she said. Well, at least the one with the cowboy hat.

What? Who? Richard lifted his sunglasses and looked around. He recognized nobody. He replaced his glasses, leaned back, and closed his eyes to rest a bit.

Those two across from us, she whispered.

Richard opened his eyes, took another look but kept his glasses on. He shook his head.

I know who that is—the one with the hat. It’s…um, that Senator.

Richard frowned. The man with the cowboy hat had a dark and weathered complexion. His deep brown eyes were daunting and powerful with a determination that remained riveted in every stare.

He’s native, she added.

Richard nodded. I don’t recognize either of them.

Senator Diamond, that’s his name. He always wears that black hat.

Richard studied the large man across from him. How do you know him?

Senator Nathaniel Diamond, she repeated. "He’s a Senator from Alberta now, but he used to be in the Alberta government up north as the Member of the Legislative Assembly for Wood Buffalo. Twenty years I think he