Dearly Departing

or not. Sometimes color could be a giveaway, or the complete lack of it. He remembered something his mom used to say in the mornings when he was a kid—if it’s grey, stay away. This bacon wasn’t grey, but it was hardly pink anymore, either. It didn’t smell good or bad. He threw it all into the frying pan and listened to it sizzle. He would know in the next little while if it was worth eating or not. Cooking things at high temperatures was the ultimate test.
Dawn staggered into the kitchen a few minutes later. The bacon was good, Ray decided. The smell had pulled her out of bed, so everything was fine. She helped him butter the toast and the two sat down together.
“You sure this bacon is okay?” She asked.
“The bacon’s fine.” It was nice having someone to cook for again.
“I checked the weather online,” Dawn said. “It’s raining in Calgary, but not freezing. It should be good driving all the way out to Uncle David’s.”
“How’s the head?”
Dawn patted the back of her skull where her hair was still damp from showering. “Bump’s pretty much gone. I’m good to go.”
Ray still wanted to take her to the hospital to be sure. Blows to the head could be tricky things. Concussions had a way of sneaking back up on people if they weren’t careful.
Dawn could tell what he was thinking from his silence. “No doctors. I said I was fine. The headache’s gone, and I feel great.”
“I still think we should call the cops on that jerk.”
“I just want to get our trip started… get away from Winnipeg for a few days and recharge. Things will be different when we get back. No more booze, no more drifting from shitty job to shitty job. I was thinking of going back to school.”
“Archeology?”
“Don’t be silly, Dad. That’s what you wanted me to take. I want to work more with people.”
“Work with people—like your mother? Nursing?”
Dawn laughed. “Nah, nothing that close up where I’d actually have to touch people. I was thinking more along the lines of psychology.”
“You want to be a shrink.”
“Well maybe eventually. There’s lots of options.”
Ray nodded, and they finished eating without saying much more. He started to clear the table. “School’s expensive. You have no money, and I don’t have that much saved away to help you get started.”
“I can find a part-time job in the evenings, it’ll be enough.”
Ray was getting an uncomfortable feeling. “We both know part-time work in the evenings won’t be enough. Where’s the rest of the money going to come from?”
Dawn was beside him at the sink now, towel in hand and ready to dry the dishes he was washing. “Mom said she would help some.”
Mom. She means Edgar. I don’t want my daughter getting any help from goddamn Edgar.
“You said you talked to her yesterday. How’d that go?”
“I had to tell her about Grummy. How did you think it would go?”
Ray had to be careful. Finding out how his ex-wife was through their daughter was the only way he had of knowing. He couldn’t pick the phone up himself—that would mean possibly having to speak with Edgar, and Ray wanted no part of that. The man had taken away the woman he loved. Ray wasn’t a hateful man, but it wouldn’t make him unhappy if the good doctor dropped dead and Caroline returned home. He still held on to the slim hope she would one day come to her senses and fly back to Canada. “I know you phoned about Grummy, but besides that, how was she?”
“Happy. She sounded happy.” There was a long pause. “You could be happy, too, if you let yourself.”
“I’m happy.”
“A ball of joy.”
Ray dabbed the end of her nose with a plop of soap bubbles. “Do I have to stand in this kitchen all day and listen to you be a smart-ass, or are we going to get started on this adventure?”
They were ready to leave half an hour later.
He sent Dawn to wait in the car while he went through the house turning down heaters. He turned the water off down in the basement and left the faucet on in the kitchen sink. Ray watched the last little bit trickle out, making certain the lines were clear. It was the smart thing to do this close to winter.
He grabbed his backpack at the front door—the same piece of carry-on luggage from his Dominican flight with a couple changes of rumpled clothes stuffed inside—and headed out to the car. Dawn was waiting in the driver’s seat.
Rokerton was about as small as a small town in western Manitoba could get. It only took them a minute to drive through most of it. Ray spoke his thoughts aloud as the population of less than a thousand slipped behind them. “It was a good town to raise a kid in. Good people for the most part, a nice sense of family unity.”
“You always said Rokerton looked best in the rear view mirror.”
Ray laughed. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”
“Are you sure everything’s okay? I know you’re sad about Grummy, but you seem especially moody this morning.”
“Never felt better in my life.”
It took another forty minutes to reach the TransCanada Highway. They would remain on it for another thousand miles or so, through the vast, flat expanse of Saskatchewan, and the rolling hills of Alberta, all the way into the Rocky Mountains of British Columbia, and the Okanogan Valley beyond.
A flutter went through Ray’s stomach. Butterflies, he thought. It had been an awfully long time since he’d felt the sensation. The trip out west with his parents and brothers back in ’82 came to mind again. Almost forty years ago. They had taken a Dodge pick-up with a cap on the back.