Through Different Eyes

by Karen Charleson

  In contrast to her children, Ruby seemed to be avoiding the upcoming conversation. In the kitchen that had become ominously quiet, Monica sipped tea with her sister and listened to the clock ticking its seconds away. “I have a huge headache,” Ruby apologized. “I’m pretty beat.”

  It was a futile attempt at avoidance that both sisters recognized immediately. Even if Monica had not run into Daniel and Linda, and even if Linda had not told her the gossip, she would have sensed that something was wrong. Ruby barely looked at her. Each time their eyes met, Ruby averted hers. She inspected the turquoise mugs on the table; she looked over and over again at the stove and the countertops, at the closed door and the open curtained windows, anything to avoid looking at Monica.

  “I saw Daniel and Linda in Hope,” Monica started. She was only home for two days. Sunday morning, she would have to leave early in order to make it back to Vancouver that night. It had been a struggle just to get most of Thursday and Friday off. She wanted to get this talking over with and move on to the usual life at home that she so missed. “You know Linda and her gossip. Doesn’t take much to get her going.”

  Ruby let out a long sigh. “Well…what did Linda tell you?”

  “Some story about Martin.” Monica watched her sister’s shoulders tighten an additional notch. “About Martin fooling around with Charmayne. Anyways, Linda said that she was worried about you, and if there was anything she could do, just say the word.”

  Ruby snorted. “Linda’s going to help. That’s good to know.” Her voice betrayed her anger. Monica waited.

  “I don’t know, Mon,” Ruby eventually said, slowly shaking her head. “I don’t have a clue what I am supposed to do. It was only a few days ago. I was still finishing my coffee after the kids had all left for school and Martin had gone down to the boat. The phone rang, and suddenly everything was different. It was like the solid ground that I had been standing on went all crooked and jagged and I could barely keep myself standing.”

  Monica waited for her sister to continue.

  “God, he must have been fooling around with Charmayne at Dan’s house. Of all places! Dan and Linda and Danny Jr. — they were in Campbell River playing bingo. Their regular thing. Her nephew and daughter stay with them too. I guess they had a bunch of their friends over. Martin claims he didn’t know that Danny Jr. was out, that he had only stopped by to ask him to deckhand for the opening, and that was how he ended up ‘having a beer’ with the guys. Like he does that. Just ‘has a beer’ with people half his age.”

  Monica did not dare say a word. She poured herself more tea and waited for Ruby.

  “I was waiting at home like a fool. Wondering when he didn’t come home for supper. I thought he was just working on the boat like always. Then it gets dark and I still think he’s working on the boat. Even when it was really late, I sat up and still figured that he was on the Queen. I was even worried about him, for Chrissakes. Worried that he was having a hard time fixing something. I almost called him on the radio.

  “Instead I just waited. That’s me — dumb, dumb, dumb. All bloody night, I waited. He finally calls me at something like five in the morning, tells me that he must have fallen asleep on the Queen. Christ, he never does that, so I knew that was bullshit. But what choice did I have? I made myself believe it.

  “I can’t stand this, Mon. I thought I could when I came back home. I made up my mind to come back for the kids, you know? Did Linda tell you that too? That I was gone for three days?” Ruby looked accusingly at her younger sister, as though blaming her for whatever Linda had said. Monica only slowly shook her head no.

  “Now he’s out fishing like nothing’s happened. I’m left here to just carry on. Like always. Like he never did anything. I can’t do this again, Mon. I can’t…” Even though Ruby hid her face with her hands, Monica could still see the tears. Her whole body trembled. Monica tiptoed behind her older sister and began to rub her back and shoulders. Up and down and around in circles. She rubbed until her fingers felt like they were eroding into dust.

  Gradually, Ruby calmed down. She wiped her face with the sleeves of the too-large sweater she was wearing. When she finally lifted her head, she stared directly at Monica. “I’ll be okay now,” she said. “At least for a while. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. You didn’t come home for this. To listen to all my crap.”

  “Sure I did,” Monica responded immediately. “That’s what families are for, eh? I know you’re tough. You’ve always been the tough one. Maybe it’s my turn.”

  “Yeah, that’s me all right, Mon. Tough and dependable, so everyone can treat me like shit. So Martin can just forget about me like some old sock. Good old Ruby. Do whatever the hell you want to her, and she’ll be tough. She’ll just keep on going.

  “You know, Monica, what I cannot believe is that he would do this to me now. Now, after all these years. I haven’t worried about him, you know, for a long time. And I thought things were good, really good. Maybe I was just complacent, or too lazy, thinking things were never going to change. I was already feeling superior to all those other women who have to worry about their husbands. Now I feel like an idiot. A fool to not have seen what was right in front of me. What if I’ve been a fool all this time?”

  “Ssshh…Ruby. That’s crazy. You know that’s not true. Martin has always loved you. He’s not one of those men that chase around after different women. He never really has been, and he never will be. If he’d ever fooled around before, don’t you think we would have heard? When he drank and partied long ago, you found out about that right away. Look what happened this time, eh? It wouldn’t have been different before. Man, Ruby, you know better than I do that a person can’t get away with anything around here.”

  “What if he’s just gotten tired of me?” Ruby’s voice was small.

  “That’s ridiculous, and you know it! It had to have been just a stupid mistake. Think about it. Charmayne must have set him up.”

  New tears were leaking from Ruby’s eyes. The phone rang. Ruby vigorously shook her head so Monica rose to answer it. Sure enough, she heard Martin’s voice asking for his wife. Ruby continued to shake her head no.

  “Uuhh…she’s pretty tired, Martin. I don’t think she’s up to talking right now,” Monica managed. She was a little surprised that her brother-in-law let what sounded like a feeble excuse go without comment.

  “Tell her I’ll be home as soon as we’re done fishing. Probably by next weekend.”

  “Yeah, I’ll tell her.”

  “Monica,” he added. “I’m glad you’re there.”

  “Me too.”

  She repeated the brief conversation word for word to Ruby. “That man loves you,” she finished.

  “Sometimes I hate the fucking bastard,” Ruby declared. It was rare for Monica to hear her sister swearing. The children, and sometimes she still included herself in that category, were not allowed to use “that kind of language” in the house.

  “Remember, Rube, when Mom and Dad died…you and Martin took me in right away. You put up with all the haywire stuff I did. Remember how terrible I was? I got drunk every chance I could. Got kicked out of school and you and Martin had to go there and convince them to let me back in. You used to give me all those talks and lectures, and I just would not listen. But Martin, he never said too much. He never really got mad at me. He just kept picking me up, ordering me home, and cleaning up my mess. I think he understood that I was just waiting for him to get good and angry, so I could use that as an excuse to take off. But he never did. Not even close. I used to punch him, kick him, swear at him when he picked me up. I’ll bet he never even told you that. He’d just calmly stand there, tell me to get home and go to bed. You remember that time, Rube?”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “It’s like he waited me out. Until I sort of settled down. And he’s never, I mean never, even hinted at or joked about all the crap I put h
im through.”

  “Yeah, Mon. He’s a saint. A saint who fucks around with sluts like Charmayne.”

  “Yeah,” Monica lowered her voice. “I never told you what I did. You heard me swearing at Martin. You pretended not to, but you heard it. Christ, I was loud enough. I used to…Ruby, I was sixteen. I hated Kitsum so bad. I hated you too for making me stay. I guess I blamed home and everyone for Mom and Dad. I thought that if I could only get away, I could quit thinking about them all the time. I couldn’t quit blaming everyone; it was either that or take all the blame myself.

  “But Rube, I used to totally come on to Martin. I’d plan it, for heaven’s sake. I’d deliberately party as far from here as I could. At house parties in Port Hope when that was possible. But I’d make sure that you guys had some kind of hint as to where I was. Like I’d casually mention to Brenda where I’d be. Did you ever wonder how Martin always found me? I’d drink, sure, but some of the time anyways, not so much as to not know what I was doing. I used to hit on Martin, big time. It was my ticket out of Kitsum — to get him to fool around with me. Even a little bit. Once I had him, I figured that I could leave anytime I goddamned chose. But Rube, as hard as I tried, I never got him. Not even close. Christ, I undressed in the bloody car, crawled all over him when he was trying to drive, and still he brought me straight home. And sent me to bed like a little kid. Every single time.

  “You remember how I finally stopped partying and going out all the time, when I finally agreed to do Grade 12 in the new school in Port Hope? It was mostly because I was too embarrassed to have Martin pick me up and ignore me anymore.”

  “Yeah, I kind of figured that.” Ruby sighed.

  “You mean he told you?” Monica was genuinely surprised. “I never thought that he would.”

  “No, he didn’t tell me. Didn’t say a bloody word. And I didn’t ask. You just weren’t as sneaky or clever as you thought. You know, Monica, I was never worried about you and Martin. You were still a kid. Martin…he was trying to be a father to you.”

  “That wouldn’t have stopped a lot of guys.”

  “Martin isn’t most guys. What the hell was he doing with Charmayne?”

  “I don’t know, Ruby…I don’t know.”

  Monica did not notice the living room that evening. After she and Ruby had finished talking in the kitchen, she had headed straight for the covers that Ruby had arranged for her on the couch. The lights in the room were off; only the low wattage bulb in the hall provided a bit of illumination. She was exhausted by the trip and by the talking; she fell asleep almost immediately. It was only when she opened her eyes to the morning sun that Monica saw how much had changed. Gone was the entire wall full of family photos, including her graduation photographs. Gone were Ruby’s carefully tended plants, and the colourfully shaded table lamps. The book shelf that was once brimming to overflowing with books and mementos and a hodgepodge of keepsakes now looked conspicuously empty. A pair of glass coffee tables had been replaced by a single worn, wooden one. Martin’s armchair was still in its usual spot, but covered by a crocheted blanket. The couch she had just slept on was not the same couch that had been in the living room the last time she was home. Monica had only failed to notice the night before because of the sheets. Whatever had gone on here, Monica shuddered, it might be better for her not to know all the details.

  Her visit, as she knew it would be, was too short. Saul had been right about that. A weekend, even a “long” weekend, was not enough time to travel back and forth to Kitsum and have anything like a relaxing stay. It was all a rush, an effort to compress everything into too small a space. Still, she was glad that she had come. Had there been something in Ruby’s voice that had alerted her on the telephone? Her sister had sounded tired, but Monica had believed her when she had said that she was just too busy to talk. Ruby was an active woman, always on the go with one task or another. She was bound to feel worn out occasionally. Brenda had also sounded fine — maybe a little more excited than usual — and she had repeated what her mother had said, that they were all well and that things were fine. Maybe though, Monica considered, she had heard something, some tone or implied meaning from Ruby or Brenda that gave her trip home an urgency it might not have otherwise possessed. All Monica could really say for sure was that after talking so briefly to the pair of them on the phone the previous week, she had made up her mind to visit. Not wait as Saul suggested, but to visit as soon as possible.

  She did not know if what she had said to Ruby had helped or not. Her sister did not return to the subject, but she seemed if not happier then at least a little less sad when Monica sat down with her for morning coffee. By suppertime, Ruby actually laughed a few times. Monica resolved to not only get back for Christmas, but to get back as early as possible and to stay until after New Year’s. Saul usually scheduled things over the holidays; he booked events that meant they could stay in Kitsum for only part of the vacation. This year he could do whatever he planned to do without her. She was coming home and she was staying home.

  FOUR

  By the middle of the fall, Brenda was afraid that she might be pregnant. In her fantasy world, she was waiting until she was absolutely certain to tell Michael. In her real, everyday world, mostly she worried about telling her mother. The thought of revealing anything to her father was too horrible to even contemplate. She would wait to be sure. This was what she told herself each morning as she forced herself awake.

  In the beginning, Brenda did not even know what her mother and father had fought about. They had all been at school. She and Junior had returned home to find the house a huge mess and her father alone with their youngest brother and sisters. She knew immediately that whatever the problem was, it had to have been major for her mom to smash up the house and take off. Her mother had left like that only once before. That was when Brenda was maybe six or seven years old. She had missed most of the reasons that time too. She remembered though that she and her brothers had stayed at their grandparents’ place for a couple of nights. She had overheard her Grandma Susan talking when her voice got a little too loud and she was supposed to be asleep. Brenda always remembered that: it was the first time she had ever heard the word “carousing.” Grandma Susan had said that her father was busy drinking and carousing.

  This time it was Sarah who told her on the bus ride home. She used the word “adultery” and Brenda wanted to laugh. It was too ridiculous. Sarah had to be mistaken. Brenda was certain, but only for a little while. Her mom stayed away for a full three days. Brenda got stuck not only having to go to school, but also having to cook and take care of the kids. To make matters worse, her mother went nowhere else but to the Clydesdales. Fred Clydesdale’s wife, Ethel, was somehow her cousin. What if she had said something to her mother? What had the woman seen or heard? Brenda could hardly keep her mind straight, worrying about what her mother might or might not hear or think. Then she got angry at herself for worrying and that made her even angrier at the whole situation. She decided that it would serve her mother right if she snuck over to visit Michael downstairs while her mother partied upstairs. That, however, was just another fantasy. There was no way that she had that kind of nerve.

  The more she thought about Sarah’s words and the more closely she watched her dad, the more she gave up any certainty she had initially possessed. Her father looked beaten. He no longer held his head up like he normally did and he seemed to have developed the unusual habit of holding his chin against his chest. Still, he did not go down to the Queen. He said next to nothing. And her mother, she stayed away. The more Brenda thought about it, the more convinced she became that there was no way that her mother had left for anything other than something very big — something like what Sarah had mentioned. But Charmayne of all people? Maybe Sarah had that part wrong.

  After three long days, her mother returned to the house. She was hungover as hell — that was plain to see — but she was home. Her father went fishing. Auntie M
onica showed up and ordinary life resumed. Brenda knew that her mother and Monica talked when they were all in bed; there was no way for her to hear any of it. Neither of them said a word to any of the “kids,” and Brenda was too preoccupied to bother with detective work.

  Monica’s visits were usually a highlight for Brenda. They had grown up so close together, and her aunt was always like an older sister. Even after Monica had gone off to university in Vancouver, every time she came home on holidays and for the summers, she was back in her “own” bed in the small upstairs room that they had shared for ages. The nighttime stories would flow back and forth. If there was anyone she could talk to about Michael, it was Monica. She waited for the chance, for a moment when Monica was not caught up in making Ruby feel better. It never came. The weekend was too short. Brenda would have to wait for the Christmas holidays.

  Her mother was better after her sister left — still crankier and more irritable than usual, but better. Mostly, Brenda thought, she just looked tired and worn out. Brenda held onto her suspicions. She had already missed two periods. Most mornings, it took every ounce of her energy to drag herself out of bed for school. Some days, she just did not have the gumption. She would snap harshly at her mother instead; she would say that she was sick until her mother finally gave up trying to get her up and left her alone. Falling back asleep, she sometimes half-believed herself. Maybe she really was sick. Lots of kids in Port Hope had the flu; that could be what was upsetting her stomach over the past weeks.

  School became a nightmare. Either she could not concentrate in her classes because she felt too nauseous, or she was so sleepy that she could barely keep her eyes open. Her lunchtime friends, Tracy and Beth, had vanished. Tracy had quite literally disappeared from Port Hope. Beth told her, the one time she actually spoke to her at the beginning of the school year, that Tracy’s parents had split up and that Tracy had moved with her mom to Campbell River. For her part, Beth was now going out with some young logger. Brenda noticed that she now hung around with the partiers. Looking at her, Brenda guessed that was where Beth had wanted to be all along. Brenda did not bother to go to K & M’s Convenience anymore; she just sat with Sarah and waited for the school day to end.