Authors: Patricia Morrison
“March. March 8.”
Marilyn turned back to her textbook. “We got rid of our dolls and doll clothes a long time ago. Gave them to our cousins.”
“Oh.”
Marilyn must have talked about Jules’s lousy clothes behind her back because a few days later, Mrs. Chapman made Jules try on some of Veronica and Marilyn’s old clothing that had been stored in the basement. Jules couldn’t bear the touch of it against her skin.
“That’ll do you fine,” Mrs. Chapman said over and over as she forced Jules to try everything on. “And I’d show a little appreciation if I were you, young lady, instead of looking so miserable. Why should I go to all this trouble? You won’t get any money from Children’s Aid for good clothes like these. I can tell you that.”
When she was alone, Jules wrecked one of the dresses. She wished she could do that with each and every piece of clothing – burn the whole pile.
F
ebruary 8.
In the afternoon, Jules’s dad called to cancel their visit. Tracie was going to take him up to Thunder Bay to see her parents.
You cancel after last week’s rotten visit? All right, then. I can make plans myself. Just watch me!
Jules called Patsy and asked if she wanted to go to the Cloverdale Mall. In all the time she’d lived in the neighborhood, she’d never gone there alone – it took too long to walk. It was better than the Six Points Plaza because there were lots more stores, and they weren’t as expensive as the ones in the Kingsway. The Kingsway was a fancy area for rich people. Her dad liked going there, even when they lived in Mimico, but he never had enough money to buy anything. The only store in the Kingsway for people like them was Woolworth’s,
and it simply wasn’t worth all the effort to get there.
Mrs. Chapman didn’t care where Jules went, as long as it didn’t cost much. She just wanted her out of the house on the weekends. Patsy got permission, too. She knew how they could get there by bus because she’d gone with her sister, Rosey.
They went into the Hudson’s Bay Company first, straight to the toy department – a gazillion times bigger than the one in Zellers. Lots of dolls and doll clothes lined the shelves, and Jules pretended she could buy whatever she wanted. Barbie dolls were becoming really popular. Jules and Patsy liked Barbie well enough, but Jules didn’t want a doll that was like a teenager, that didn’t need to be cared for or loved like a child.
When the salesclerks started to bug them, they went downstairs to the candy counter. They bought a big bag of Spanish peanuts with the money Mrs. O’Connor had given Patsy, and they ate every last one.
“Argh! I’m so thirsty, I’m gonna die!”
“Me, too.”
“If we walk home instead of taking the bus back, we could go to the restaurant near the shoe store, sit down like adults, and get a pop,” Jules suggested.
“Terrif. Beat ya there!”
Jules got to the restaurant first.
“Let’s pretend we’re fabulously rich heiresses and can order what we want,” Patsy said when she caught up to Jules at the restaurant door. “You’ll be the
stunning and brilliant Daphne, and I’m the gorgeous and talented Amelia.”
“Gorgeous and talented, you are.”
“What shall we do tonight, dahling? Go to the opera? A nightclub?” Patsy drawled as they sipped their drinks in the restaurant booth.
“Well, dahling, I’m sure I don’t know.”
“We’re so very popular. Everyone wants our company.”
“But everyone is so dull.”
“Especially the boys.” Patsy sighed.
“Yes. They’re boring and unimaginative.”
“Duller than dirt!”
“And here
we
are – beautiful, smart, and brave!”
“Oh, and fabulously wealthy, too – don’t forget.”
“Dripping with dough.”
“That’s why we should set off again. Especially. Considering.” Patsy gave Jules a knowing wink.
“Considering, especially.” Jules winked back.
“Zanzibar. Or South America.”
“But that’ll tip off our evil stepfather,” Jules whispered.
“Yes, well … let him be tipped,” Patsy replied, then burst out laughing.
Their waitress walked by and scowled, making them laugh even harder. Patsy was giggling so hard, she couldn’t catch her breath. Everyone in the restaurant started to gawk.
“Compose yourself, my dear,” Jules said, trying to look sophisticated.
“Yes, of course.”
“The fact of the matter is, we can’t vanish when we’re the toast of the town, now can we?”
“We cannot.” With her nose stuck up in the air, Patsy raised her glass and – with a dramatic flourish – clinked it against Jules’s.
“I think you’ll find the champagne delightful,” Jules said. And Patsy got the giggles again.
“All right, enough. We must be serious.” Patsy said, looking anything but.
“Yes, of course.”
“There are more important matters to discuss. The plot to abduct us, for one thing.”
“The very nerve.”
“Well, Daddy-O wants all our money.”
“And us out of the way.”
“Out of the picture.”
“Out.”
“Plain out.”
“We have to find his accomplices, or we’re done for,” Jules said, looking suspiciously at the waitress.
“Done in.”
“Roger Dodger that, Kemo Sabe.”
They dawdled over their drinks. When they finally left the restaurant, huge snowflakes were drifting down from the afternoon sky. They had a snowball fight on the way home, and it was almost dark when Jules got to the Chapmans’.
Her mind and body were singing.
J
ules’s dad phoned on Thursday to say that her royal highness would be at the visit that Saturday, the fifteenth.
“I’m one hundred percent sure we’ll make it.” Her dad sounded happy.
Why is Tracie so important, anyway? What about me?
Tracie was almost as tall as Jules’s dad, who was six feet. She was thin – bone thin. Her hair was in a pageboy and so blonde it looked almost white. Her long bangs covered half her face. Jules barely caught a glimpse of her eyes.
“So this is Jules? Good to meet you, kiddo. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“How about giving Tracie a hug?” her dad suggested.
Jules didn’t want to, but did anyway. Tracie
smelled of cigarettes, alcohol, and perfume. Jules felt only bone.
Her dad turned to Mrs. Chapman. “We’ll be at the fish-and-chip shop at Bloor and Ashbourne.”
“All right,” Mrs. Chapman said. “Have a good time.”
It felt good to walk down the street with her father, even if Tracie
was
on the other side of him.
“How’s school? Your dad says you’re pretty smart.” Tracie didn’t look at Jules when she spoke.
Maybe she’s not used to kids
.
“It’s okay. Kinda boring sometimes.”
“So, what do you like to do when you’re not at school?”
“Skate. Play with my friend Patsy, my dolls.”
“Dolls? Aren’t you a little old for that? You’ll be thinking of boys and makeup pretty soon.” She laughed. “Those were the days. Had the time of my life when I was your age. You’re a nice-looking kid. The boys’ll be getting interested, whether you like it or not.”
All right already!
“Dad, Mrs. Adamson gave me the doll I told you about, the one at Zellers. For a Christmas … a New Year’s gift. It’s wonderful. Do you want to see it when we get back?”
“Why’d she do that?” he asked angrily. “You hardly know her.”
“That’s not really true. You know, I go … I
used to go to the plaza all the time. She’s always there. I told you.”
“Yeah, and I told you not to have anything to do with anybody at that goddamn store!”
“I know … I don’t, but …”
“It’s stupid. Doesn’t she have kids of her own?”
“Yes,” Jules whispered.
“Well, I’m not going to tell you again. I don’t want you going there. And I don’t want any more strangers poking into our lives. You hear me?”
He’d raised his voice enough that even Tracie looked worried. Jules wondered if she knew who they were talking about. Or if they talked about Jules at all.
“Hope this place isn’t far from here, Joe,” Tracie said.
She’s trying to get him off the anger track
.
“You know I hate trudging through snow.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll get there soon enough.”
The fish-and-chip shop served mostly takeout customers. Jules and her father had never eaten there, but when he hadn’t felt like getting groceries or if the power had been cut off, he’d pick up an order – or send Jules.
“What’re you gonna have, Jules?” her dad asked.
They were sitting at the table closest to the back wall. Tracie and her dad sat side by side facing her.
“Just one piece of fish. And maybe we can share the fries?”
“Where’s that killer appetite?”
Jules knew she was supposed to smile, but couldn’t. She looked down at the plastic tablecloth.
“You doing okay at the Chapmans’?”
She nodded.
I hate being there, Dad. Please let me be with you
.
“And school’s okay?”
“Yeah. Math’s kinda hard right now.”
“How come?”
“Too many kids in the class. Mrs. Fournier’s always too busy.”
“Well, you’ll get it eventually. Just keep working hard.”
We never talk like this
.
“Are you far away, Dad – where you are? I mean, you and Tracie?”
“You could ask Tracie that.”
No, I can’t
.
“C’mon, Joe. Don’t be hard on her.”
“We’re in the old neighborhood – in Mimico – right on Royal York.”
“Oh.”
How do I get there? How far away from me are you? Tell me, Dad. Please
.
“It’s small, but good.”
“It’s small all right,” Tracie said. And they both laughed. “More like a closet, but cozy.”
“Glad to be out of that cruddy farmhouse we were in. Not very good, was it?”
“No. But where are we gonna go?”
He shot her an angry look.
He’s not going to tell me. I can’t breathe
.
Jules almost knocked her chair over as she got up. “Uh, Dad, I have to go to the washroom.”
“Go ask one of the guys behind the counter where it is.”
“No, I … they’re busy. It’s too hot in here anyhow. I’ll go over to the variety store.”
She raced out of the shop and turned to the right, past Ashbourne Variety, and all the way to the opposite end of the small strip mall. She pressed her body against the outer wall of the building.
No. No. No
.
The world was smashing, crashing down, the ground bursting open. She was going to collapse, fall, break into pieces. Tears fell.
I have to hold myself in
.
Jules wrapped her arms tightly around her body.
A mother and child were waiting for the light to turn green at the intersection of Ashbourne and Bloor. They stared at her.
My face is red. My eyes are red. He can’t see me like this
.
She forced herself to move and entered the variety store. The older woman behind the counter owned it with her husband. They spoke to each other in another language – Italian or Greek, maybe. The woman was friendly enough, but she always acted as if she thought customers were about to steal something. Jules never would have done that, and it made her mad to be suspected.
“Um, I’m sorry, but do you have a washroom I could use?”
Jules tried to keep her face down as she asked the question. She could tell the woman wanted to say no right away, but – after looking at Jules for a moment – she changed her mind.
“Okay. You come here.”
Jules followed her to the back of the store. The woman pointed to a door. “Quick. You be quick, huh?”
Jules nodded.
She couldn’t look at her face in the bathroom mirror. Head bent, she turned on the cold water tap and splashed water against her skin, got toilet paper, wiped her face dry, took a deep breath, and forced her gaze up.
I’m still here
.
She pinched her cheeks so the redness around her eyes wouldn’t stand out. Cupped water in her hands. Drank.
Better
.
Her father watched her walk through the fish-and-chip shop.
Yes, I was crying
.
When the food came, Tracie ate little, picking at it. She looked as if she was trying hard to think up things to say.
Jules’s appetite was gone.
Tracie lit a cigarette and took a long drag. She kept looking at the customers who were coming and
going as she drank coffee and smoked. Her bright red lipstick left a mark on the yellow end of the cigarette. It was the wrong color for her skin.
“You feeling better now, Trace?” her dad asked.
“Much better. The coffee’s kicking in.”
They talked and laughed about what they’d done the previous night.
Jules watched them.
Some bony, skinny people aren’t born that way. They like drinking more than eating. Like my dad. Tracie’s face is flushed, like my dad’s, and puffy, too
.
Her father checked his watch when they were finished eating. “Almost one-thirty. We gotta get you home, kiddo.”
Walking back, Jules stayed close to him. “Do you talk to Eileen often?”
“Talk to Eileen? When I can get her on the phone! But she’s pretty clueless. I bet she doesn’t even have a kid, and here she is telling me what to do.”
“I’m sorry.”
All this started because of me
.
“Yeah, well, they can only go so far. People gotta live their lives. Don’t need anyone telling me how.”
It took fifteen minutes to get back to the Chapmans’. As they walked, Jules reached for his arm and held it. “I hope you can get a job soon.”
“Always the little worrywart.” He looked at her and smiled. Then the guilty look he’d had throughout the visit came back into his face. “Our troubles are
gonna blow over. And, in the meantime, you’re living in a nice place, and you’re clean and warm, and they’re looking after you properly. That’s all that counts.”
When they reached the front door, her dad bent down and gave Jules a kiss. Tracie gave her a hug.
“Do you wanna come in?”