Body Swap

by Sylvia McNicoll

  “Yes, Nana. Did you knit them yourself?” The screen freezes her for a moment, mouth open, in crazy broken up pixels.

  Susan whispers into my ear, “I bought them at the bazaar but don’t tell her.”

  The mouth closes as the screen unfreezes again. I smile sweetly and answer, “Sure I did.”

  “Oh, then could you knit me a pair of matching mittens?”

  I hesitate for a moment. Why would Susan want to pretend she knits, anyways? “Don’t have any more of that colour wool.” I gulp. For all I know, it’s white.

  Linda walks in then with her book tucked under her arm and clucks over the El-Q. I show her the screen and introduce her to my “granddaughter” Leah.

  Leah and I chat a while about weather and Christmas. She wishes Susan could come out there this year.

  “Tell her I miss her and that I love her.” Susan’s voice sounds low and husky in my ear.

  I turn to Susan and see tears in her eyes. It must suck to have her real granddaughter live so far away. I turn back to the screen. “Okay, well we can talk again soon. On Christmas, for sure. I miss you.” I pause for a moment. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Nana.” She waves.

  There’s an electronic Ow and the window closes. We’re quiet for a moment.

  Then Hardeep comes back and offers reindeer cookies all around. Gordon hands me a coffee. Margret asks, “Can I get hold of my daughter? She lives in Germany.”

  “Sure,” Hardeep answers. “If you have an El-Q or computer, we can set you up with an account.

  “You can borrow mine,” I say. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if my family lived on another continent. Would it feel like you just didn’t have any kids anymore?

  Margret frowns at her watch. “They’re ahead of us by six hours. It’s too late today.”

  “What about borrowing an e-reader from the library? Could you help me get books on it?” Linda asks.

  “Sure can,” Hardeep says.

  We toss our paper plates into the garbage and then head back to the library. The seniors seem so excited about going electronic and it’s such an easy thing to help them — I wonder why we’ve never done it before.

  While they’re busy, the El-Q burps and I step away from them all to answer. It’s Ron.

  “Hi, Mom. I got your message. Listen, we need to talk. Why don’t I come over to the condo?”

  “I’m not checking into that residence, no matter what.”

  “Whatever you say, Mom. I’ll be there in a half an hour.” Click!

  Bossy, much? I put the El-Q back in Susan’s purse. “Listen, we have to go now,” I tell everyone. “My son’s visiting me.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Susan

  IF THERE’S ONE THING I KNOW about my son, it’s that he’s prompt and expects everyone else to be, too. Hallie cannot possibly make it back to the condo within his appointed thirty minutes, especially since she has generously offered to drive everyone home. Perhaps she wants the companionship; being alone in another person’s body is rather frightening, I find. Still, if everyone accepts the lift, she will be late.

  Since I would actually like to see Ron, I make Hallie a counter-offer. “Why don’t you just let us off at your building? You’re right across from the mall. We can browse the stores and catch a bus from there, easily.”

  “That makes perfect sense,” Margret agrees as she commandeers the front passenger seat. “We don’t want to drive all over Burlington after all. We have things to do.”

  “I don’t mind. Driving all over, I mean.” Linda climbs in the back with Hardeep and me. “Be nice to take a little tour and I don’t have anything else on my schedule for the rest of the day.”

  “The mall would be great,” Hardeep chimes in and smiles at me.

  I wink back, feeling a little wicked for doing so.

  “All right. Buckle up,” Hallie calls back to us.

  We drive off ever so slowly.

  I watch and see that Hallie keeps a consistent, even pressure on the gas pedal, no jerking us to a start or a stop. When she approaches the red light, the Hurricane slows down even more. I can’t see what Hallie’s doing with the accelerator, but I imagine she’s avoiding it as much as possible. Cautious. Good for her. The car coasts to a stop, and Hallie flings her arm up suddenly, pointing to the snow-covered island in the centre of the road. “What is that?”

  Hardeep cranes his neck. “Strangest-looking animal I’ve ever seen.”

  Margret leans forward, squinting. “A pig, I think. Did it fall off a truck?”

  I squint in that direction, too. The creature is small, pink, and spotted, with a black tuft of hair on its head and tail and on each paw.

  “Why, it’s a dog,” Linda says. “One of those hairless kinds. It must be freezing.”

  “Chinese Crested.” I snap my fingers as I instantly recall the name of the breed. “It can’t possibly make it across safely.” Before anyone can try to change my mind, I fling open the door. “I’m going to help it.”

  Margret grumbles a warning about rabies in stray animals, but I jump out, anyway.

  Hardeep follows.

  Not foaming at the mouth, the small, naked dog flips on its back to offer me its belly, and I notice that it is a he. Large, brown eyes look up at me through the tuft of hair. His tail plume flaps at me.

  “No collar.” Hardeep frowns. “He’s doesn’t seem hurt, though.”

  “No. No cuts or bruises. He’s friendly enough.” I give his belly a little rub, and then before he can make a break for it, I scoop him up. Carefully, I cross back to the Hurricane, Hardeep at my elbow. He opens the car door for me.

  “What are you going to do with a dog?” Hallie calls over her shoulder. “Your mother won’t let you keep it.”

  And of course, she would know.

  “Too bad. He’s a cute little fellow in an odd sort of way.” I always wanted a pet; Ron Junior was allergic, though. Would he have been all right around this breed? I slide into the back seat with the dog. He adjusts himself on my lap, sitting up and panting in a half-grin. I scratch at the tuft on the animal’s head. He seems content.

  “We can take it to the animal shelter,” Hallie says, and eyes me from the rear-view mirror.

  “But you’ll be late for your son!” I argue. Ron will pace at the condo, checking his watch every few moments. He’ll wonder why his dear old mother can’t be punctual, since she’s retired and work is the only commitment he understands. He will scold.

  “It’s the only thing to do, really,” Margret pronounces. “We don’t know if his owner is missing him, after all.” For once, she seems agreeable, even if it does cause a kink in her busy schedule.

  Hallie passes her El-Q over her shoulder to me. “Text Ron for me?” Meanwhile, she starts the car and slowly moves it forward.

  As I grab the El-Q, the dog nuzzles my hand for more patting. “Just a moment, puppy.” With the dog licking me now, I struggle to type: Rescuing a dog, will be late. I press send. Ron will assume I’ve gone doddery. He never much understands my love for pets. The dog calms back down when I pass the El-Q over to Margret in the front seat to put back in my old purse. “Do you know where the shelter is?” I ask Hallie.

  “Um, no,” Hallie answers.

  “Just turn down Guelph, then off on Mountainside and down Industrial.”

  “Is that the street with all the auto-repair shops on it?” Hallie asks.

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the matter with you?” Margret grumbles. “A young girl knows the area better than you.”

  I quickly lie to cover up my unusual knowledge. “My dad took me along once to get his car repaired, and we visited the animal shelter while we waited.”

  Hardeep seems not to take notice of our geographical exchange at all.

  He seems more bewildered by the dog. “I wonder how a Chinese Crested ended up on the street all by itself,” he says.

  “No collar, either, and no coat. Must be cold.” I lean down
to hug him warm but notice that, oddly, he does not shiver.

  Hallie makes a slow turn on Guelph and a car honks from behind us. That car speeds around us.

  “Never mind, it’s good you’re driving slow if we can’t trust that gas pedal.” I reach to pat her shoulder, then pull my hand away when I see Hardeep give me an odd look.

  We hit another light and then turn onto Mountainside.

  Suddenly, the dog paws at my cheek as if to push me away. “Ow, ow, stop!” His long, black nails scrape at my face till I brush off his paws. Still, they have forced me to turn toward the side window. Then I spot it. There at the Automagic Bodyshop, a tow truck sits with a red Hurricane attached to it. The front is crushed. What are the odds? I point and tell Hallie, “Look over there.”

  “That’s a car just like yours. Same colour even,” Hardeep comments. “Shame.”

  “I wonder how that accident happened,” I muse out loud.

  The dog gives a small sharp bark, Rat! like he wants to tell me something. This animal is too strange. It’s as if he deliberately pushed me toward the window to notice that Hurricane. I look down at him and notice a dark blue line of squiggle above the crest of fur on his paw. I lift the paw closer to me and see the squiggle is actually writing. “Well, will you look at that; this dog has a tattoo.”

  “What does it say?” Hardeep asks, leaning close to me to see. “Any hint to where he belongs?”

  “Carpe Diem.” I read the words out loud for Hallie’s sake. Then I lift my eyes to the rear-view mirror where the reflection of Hallie’s eyes meets my own.

  CHAPTER 19

  Hallie

  PULLING INTO THE EMPTY LOT of the Burlington Animal Shelter and parking is easy-peasy, which is great ’cause I’m not sure I trust the park assist feature on the Hurricane anymore. I turn to Susan and nod my head toward the door. “Can I speak to you for a second?” Then I turn to Margret. “You guys can just go on ahead.”

  Susan jumps out, with Eli, in the form of a Chinese Crested, tucked in her arms. Meanwhile, I rub the circulation back into my knees, then straighten slowly and step out. Only my second day in this body, but it feels like a hundred years and I know there’s no skipping and bounding for me. Linda and Hardeep exit on the other side, with Margret hanging back just a little, out of nosiness or lack of energy, who knows.

  “We’ll meet you in there,” Susan calls, and Margret takes the hint, shuffling toward the entrance of the animal shelter.

  It’s nippy outside and I hug my elbows around my bony body to stay warm. When they’re all out of hearing range, finally, I speak to Susan. “Seriously, what are we going to do here? We can’t put God in a dog pound.”

  Susan smiles a great big grin that makes me envious of my old mouth and teeth. “Oh, I don’t know.” She rubs the long tuft on the top of his head hard. “It might be good for him to see how the other half lives. Right, boy?”

  Rat, rat, rat! The dog wriggles in Susan’s arms. Rat, rat, rat! Suddenly, he breaks loose, makes a spectacular leap, and runs into the road. A white delivery truck brakes sharply, fishtails on the snowy road, with its rear end sliding toward the small animal.

  I hold my breath. The truck straightens out of its skid and then continues on. No thump, and yet, suddenly, no dog either. The Chinese Crested has disappeared.

  But that tow truck complete with the Hurricane hooked to the back still sits there at the shop.

  “Where did he go?” Susan asks.

  “Who knows?” I shrug my shoulders. “But I’m guessing Eli must want us to investigate that smashed-up Hurricane. Let’s cross the street and see what we can find out.”

  The first thing I do is take pictures of the Hurricane with the El-Q, making sure to get the licence plate in my shot. Then we go inside the shop. A chime sounds as the door closes behind us, and the smell of oil and paint wafts in from the garage behind the counter. On the wall, a calendar with a St. Bernard chewing on an ornament reminds customers that the shop is closed on December 25. Four days away. I swallow hard. Christmas.

  Happy holiday greeting cards surround it. How happy will it be as an eighty-two-year-old? I have to escape this body.

  “Can I help you?” A guy in a blue shirt and dark pants steps in from the garage. His eyes are startlingly light blue, contrasting nicely with his dark hair and thick moustache. Cute for an old guy — only now he’s a young guy compared to the body I’m stuck in.

  “Can you tell us what happened to that car on the tow truck?” Susan asks.

  “And its owner,” I add.

  “Sure. She went through a red light and a tractor-trailer plowed into her. The driver is in the hospital.”

  “Do you know which hospital?” Susan asks.

  “Gee, no.”

  “Can you give us her name?” I ask.

  “I’m not comfortable doing that, no. That’s confidential.”

  “What if you give her our name and ask her to call us?” I ask.

  “I guess I could do that if …” He frowns.

  “Tell her I’m a Hurricane owner, too, and I think there might be some defect in the gas pedal.” I take out a piece of paper from the purse I carry, write down Susan’s name, email, and cellphone number on it, and pass it to him.

  He stares at it. “Listen, I’ll definitely give it to her if I can … it’s just, well … she may not make it.”

  “Oh,” Susan says. Her green eyes fill instantly. Is she worried about her son or is she just an emotional old lady?

  I grab her elbow and drag her to the door before she does or says anything weird that I won’t be able to explain. “Thank you,” I call back to the mechanic. The door chimes on our way out.

  “Hey, what are you doing over there?” Margret calls from across the street. “Where is the dog?”

  “He ran away. We chased him over here, but he disappeared,” I answer as we walk back to the animal shelter.

  “Shouldn’t we look for him?” Hardeep asks.

  “No,” Susan snaps. “We did our best. He took off on us.”

  She’s annoyed with Eli. Who can blame her? He’s like the guy who videos an accident for YouTube but doesn’t do anything to prevent it.

  Hardeep looks confused but follows her to the car.

  Margret mumbles something about being irresponsible. What would she say if she knew who the dog really was?

  Back in the Hurricane with everyone buckled in, I start up and very carefully give it gas. No double taps or sharp braking. We will not crash while I’m driving. I slow down well before a light changes, just in case. Maybe Eli wanted to show us that red Hurricane as an additional warning. But couldn’t he have just stopped the accident entirely instead?

  Traffic crawls as people leave work. The sky turns inky black but the snow reflects back the street lamps. A cosy winter wonderland. As we roll into the condominium parking lot, I can see Ron as a dark silhouette against the bright light, standing in the entranceway, arms crossed.

  I continue into the underground garage and pull into Susan’s spot. No one’s going to give me a lecture on parking in the visitor lot today. We walk to the elevator, Susan presses the button, and the doors open with a soft click. She presses Lobby, and in a moment, we face Ron.

  “Where were you? I was so worried,” he says by way of hello.

  Susan wants to answer so I quickly cut her off. “Didn’t you get my text? We went to the animal shelter.”

  “That’s another thing. Since when do you text? I thought someone had kidnapped you and assumed your identity.”

  “Ron, meet Hallie, my technology coach,” I say. “She’s teaching me how to use my new El-Q. I’m her empathy project for school. Her adoptive grandmother.”

  Susan holds out her hand to shake Ron’s. Her green eyes shine. Happy, proud? Hard to know.

  “This is Hardeep, her friend, and you remember Margret and Linda?” I’m guessing he knows them, anyway. Hoping at this point.

  “Darndest thing,” Margret tells him. “We found o
ne of those expensive bald dogs in the middle of the street.”

  Linda continues, “We couldn’t just leave it there. It would have frozen.”

  “But then, your mother let it get away when we got to the animal shelter,” Margret complains.

  “For once, she did the smart thing. You don’t want to fight with a stray.” Ron defends me, all the while staring at me as though he wants to see what’s inside my head.

  “Well, I guess we’ll be off,” Hardeep says, breaking off an awkward moment. “Nice meeting you, Mrs. MacMillan,” he tells me.

  “Nice meeting you.” What a sweet guy! But why couldn’t Chael have hung out with us, too? “You catching the number four?” I ask Susan to let her know what bus she should take. Does that sound suspicious?

  “The four, yes.” Susan stays back a moment, just watching Ron, her eyes soft. “Take care of yourself,” she says, and finally walks off with Hardeep.

  “She’s a sensitive girl, isn’t she?” Linda says.

  “Touched, if you ask me,” Margret grumbles as she pushes the button on the side of the elevator door.

  “Are you sure she doesn’t want to sell you something?” Ron asks. “Has she asked for money?”

  “No,” I answer. “And I haven’t given her any banking information.”

  The elevator chimes and opens for us, and, one by one, we step in.

  “The teenagers need to earn volunteer credits to graduate,” Margret explains.

  “I think it’s a lovely idea. Hallie and Hardeep seem like very nice young people,” Linda says.

  The elevator stops at the ninth floor and we all get off. “See you tomorrow,” Margret says.

  “Bye.” Linda waves.

  Ron and I walk toward Susan’s condo. I fumble a little with her keys and feel Ron measuring me for that room at Sunnyside. The door unlocks and I push it open.

  Ron steps in and heads to the washroom. I flop down on the couch. Ow, that hurts — I’ll have to be more careful when I sit, too. I rub my hip bones.

  The toilet flushes and I hear the taps, then, “Mom, are you not feeling well?”