Breaking Point

by Lesley Choyce

  “What do you mean?”

  “What did you do that landed you here?”

  “Oh, that. You really want to know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I got busted for selling weed at school.”

  “At school, really?”

  “Well, weed and a little E. But the E wasn’t really my thing. It was just the once.”

  “And you got caught.”

  “Yeah. Again. I’m what they refer to as incorrigible. A repeat offender.”

  “I’ve been labeled that before.”

  “Maybe we can form a club,” she said. “Or a band. The Incorrigibles.”

  “Maybe. You been to Walkerton?”

  “Twice.”

  “And now you’re here. Like me.”

  “That’s us. But you didn’t tell me what you did.”

  “Broke into people’s houses and stole things.”

  “That wasn’t nice,” she said, a half smile sneaking out, making me realize just how pretty this drug-dealing incorrigible girl was.

  “I can’t even tell you why I did it. I just tried it once and it was easy, so I did it some more. Kept some things. Sold some stuff for some pocket money.”

  “It was probably the thrill,” she said. “You liked the buzz of the danger and you liked breaking rules.”

  “Is that why you sold drugs?”

  “Not drugs. Like I said, mostly weed. But no, I was in it for the money. I still plan on making a million dollars before I turn twenty-one.”

  “Still?”

  “Well, yeah. Once I get out of this shithole and make my way out of Nova Scotia. I have connections. What about you? Future plans?”

  I threw up my hands. “I’m more of a one-day-at-a-time kind of guy.”

  She looked a little disappointed. “We could work on that,” she said. “You like me?”

  That one threw me, but then everything about this girl threw me. I cleared my throat so that I had a chance to think before speaking. I wanted it to sound just right. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m just getting to know you, but I like what I see.”

  “And what is it you see?” she shot back.

  “I see fire,” I said. I didn’t even know where that came from, but it lit her up. She liked it. What I was thinking was, I see a drug-dealing girl who is very attractive and nothing but trouble, looking for trouble and looking to get me in more trouble. But I didn’t say that.

  Chapter Four

  It rained for five days after that. Most of what we did was inside. Exercise classes, talking sessions with the counselors— real wannabe social workers. They were all pretty young and clueless. They said things like, “You have your whole life ahead of you. You can control your life. You are in charge.”

  If I was in charge, I would have been out of there. In fact, the pressure was building up inside me. When the weather got better, I could do that. I could run. Into the woods. Anywhere. I didn’t really want to go back home. I didn’t know where I wanted to go. But yeah, maybe it was time for me to take charge.

  They kept the guys separated from the girls during that week. There must have been problems, because now they kept us apart even at meals. I could wave to Brianna and she’d look at me, but we couldn’t actually talk. I kept thinking about that girl.

  A guy in the room where I slept, Gerard, kept on my case like he wanted to fight. Why me? I wondered. Just because I had Loser stamped in big red letters on my forehead, I guessed. Growing up, I’d known at least twenty Gerards. They zero in on you for no particular reason. They piss you off. They know they can beat the crap out of you. All you have to do is let your guard down or, worse yet, fake being tough.

  Gerard was cold one night and ripped the blanket off my bed for himself. He didn’t say a word. I waited until he fell asleep, and then I took it back. I did it gently so he didn’t wake up. My style. There was a night-light in the room, so a few of the guys who were awake saw me. Then I turned around, put my butt up close to his sleeping face and farted. Fortunately for me, he didn’t wake, but I’d made my point.

  Someone must have reported my nighttime activities, because in the morning Gerard snarled at me and called me a name or two that had a familiar ring. I pretended I didn’t hear him. Gerard threatened to get me good when I wasn’t looking, and I knew he wasn’t kidding. More reason to get the hell out of here. But I didn’t turn him in. I could have told Chris, but then I would have to be watching my own back all the time. There were some rules you just had to play by.

  Finally the skies cleared and we were outside again. I found myself on a team of guys playing volleyball against a team of girls. Freaking volleyball. I hadn’t played that since I was a little kid in junior high. But playing against the girls was definitely all right. I guess they thought we were safe if they kept the net between us. And there was Brianna on the other team. When it was my turn to serve, I hit the ball straight to her and she made a nice return right in my direction. I flubbed my own return, but I still felt like we had connected. Hey, I guess, under the circumstances, it was about as romantic as things could get.

  And then a few days later, we were back in the kayaks and on a longer trip. No splashdowns for me. No wipeouts. This trip out was an overnighter to an island. Each of us had a tiny little tent. Privacy at last. The day had been sunny, and I had a burnt nose. But my paddling was good, the exercise had me tired, and I slept like a baby in my own tiny private tent.

  It must have been after midnight when I heard the zipper to my tent. Oh shit, I thought. It’s either a frigging bear come to eat me, or it’s Gerard. I groped for my flashlight, hoping it was the bear. If I was going out of this world, I’d rather be a meal for a wild animal than the victim of a bully-creep like Gerard.

  I finally found my little flashlight and flicked it on straight at my intruder.

  Boy, had I called that one wrong.

  Kneeling at the opening of my tent was Brianna. Her eyes were wide, and she pulled herself quickly in. “Shh,” was all she said. “Turn off your light.”

  I was propped up on my elbows trying to get her into focus and figure out what was going on. She was the one to reach out and turn the flashlight off. The tent went pitch-black. Then she lay down beside me. I could hear her breathing heavily.

  “Where’d you come from?” I asked.

  “You didn’t know? Some of us are camping on the other end of the island. It’s not that big. I planned this.”

  I was thinking, Planned? This was part of some plan? But was I ever happy to see her. Well, I couldn’t see her. But I was happy she was here. How could I not be? She leaned back and zipped my tent up again. “Mosquitoes out there. Very nasty.”

  “How’d you get here?”

  “Walked the shoreline. I’d studied the map before we left. I heard the news that you guys would be here. I wanted to find you. I saw your pack outside.” She lay down beside me on her back and grew quiet. I lay beside her and listened to her breathe. Now what? I wondered.

  I had the distinct feeling that whatever would come out of my mouth would be wrong, and I didn’t want to screw things up, so I said nothing. I wanted to reach over and hold her. It had been so long since I’d had my arms around a girl. But I couldn’t take the chance. I wanted to turn on my flashlight and maybe even just look at her. But I didn’t do that either.

  “Ever feel like every single important decision you’ve made in your life is wrong?” she suddenly asked.

  “I know the feeling,” I said.

  “Let’s make it change.”

  “How?”

  “Come with me to Montreal?”

  “Montreal?” Was she crazy? We were in a remote camp for young criminals on the Eastern Shore of Nova Scotia. Montreal was a long way away.

  “I know some people there. We get there, and we can disappear. A couple of fake driver’s licenses and a new life. I can’t do it alone. I picked you.”

  I wanted to say, Why me? But I’d seen that look she gave me the first day. Yes, it was li
ke we connected. Something electric. Fire.

  Chapter Five

  She leaned over me and brushed my cheek lightly with her hand. Then she kissed me on the mouth. I put my arms around her. I was starting to think this might be one hell of a night, but she pulled back.

  “Plenty of time for that,” she said. “But I can’t stay here. I can’t get caught. I just need to know you’ll do this with me.”

  Yikes. I didn’t even know this girl, but I was ready to follow her to the ends of the earth. I asked the obvious question. “Do what?”

  “I’m good with maps. I know where we are. I know what’s around us. East of here, there’s not much but wilderness, empty shorelines and islands for almost thirty miles. If we can make it through those islands without being seen, I’ve got a cousin in Port Joseph. My aunt and uncle moved there from the city when she started to get into trouble. We’ve stayed in touch. We know the same people in Montreal. She has a car. If we could get to Port Joseph, she’d drive us. We wouldn’t have to put up with any more of this crap.”

  “You make it sound easy. It would be a long hike. You sure we could find this Port Joseph place?”

  “Yeah, we’ll find it, but we’re not going to walk. We go by water. With all those islands, we’d be much harder to find.”

  I was remembering my first dip in the icy waters around here. Chris had said that we’d been taking easy routes, protected from the wind and the waves and the difficulties of paddling long distances on open water. “Sounds dangerous,” I said, probably sounding like a wimp.

  “Not if we’re smart.”

  “And lucky.”

  “Yeah, that too,” she said. “But I feel it in my bones. This is what I need to do. Walk away from my old crappy life. This is the decision that will finally change my life.” She leaned over and kissed me again. “And I need you.”

  Once again, I wanted to blurt out, Why me?

  But I didn’t.

  “I’m in,” I said.

  She put a hand on each side of my face and gently squeezed like I was a puppy or a little kid. She laughed a little. “I knew you would be. Cameron. You won’t regret it, I promise.” And I liked the sound of that so much that I was a little stunned.

  And then she was up and unzipping the tent door, slipping out into the night and gone.

  A mosquito flew in through the open flap and bit me on the ear. I swatted it and smacked myself hard on the side of the head. Then I reached over and zipped the flap.

  I should have smacked myself harder. Maybe I would have smacked some sense into myself. Maybe I would have used my brain to make a decision for once instead of my emotions. Maybe everything would have turned out differently.

  But my head was swimming with Brianna. This crazy, beautiful, dangerous drug-dealing girl who had just been in my tent. I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I tried to picture us on the road to Montreal, arriving there and starting a new life. The two of us together. The whole scene was very sweet.

  But the more I got caught up in this fantasy, the more I began to think that I didn’t know what I was getting into. Leaping from the frying pan into the fire? Yeah, she was fire. And what if I got burned? And yet, I knew that if I changed my mind and turned her down, she’d choose someone else. Maybe even Gerard.

  And I couldn’t let that happen. Not in a million years.

  I didn’t see her again the next day, as our group kayaked out around a bunch of small windswept islands. There were seabirds all around and seals in the water and lounging on rocks. An eagle sailed above me once. And lots and lots of open water.

  They had planned it so we would never run into the girls, who must have gone in another direction. But I could see what Brianna was talking about. This was a wild, empty and uninhabited part of Nova Scotia. If we could get away, there would be a million tiny coves to hide in, hundreds of islands where we could go ashore and hole up. If you wanted to hide, it would take an entire navy to find you in this vast expanse of water and islands.

  Even traveling with my fellow criminals and following Chris’s directions, out here I felt free and alive and in control of my own kayak and, somehow, my own fate. I only knew the basics of Brianna’s escape plan, but the more I thought about it, the more I began to believe Brianna and I had the stuff to make it happen.

  I’d be alone with her out here— daytime and at night. And that would be a dream come true. Who cares if we never made it to Montreal? And it wasn’t like we were breaking out of Walkerton. This was different—bigger and more exciting than that. And this would prove that we were more powerful than the rotten, unfair system that put us here. The one that was always trying to break us.

  My arms were starting to get a bit sore and my back was feeling it when Chris veered away from leading the group and doubled back, and then came up alongside me. “Cameron, you’re a strong paddler. You’re a natural at this. How do you feel?”

  “I feel great.”

  “I watched you this morning. You seemed different.”

  That worried me. Did he suspect something?

  “I meant that in a good way.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  “We have a group of younger kids coming in for a day camp next week. I’m wondering if you’d help me teach them some of the basics about water safety and handling kayaks.”

  That was a weird request. Me? A role model for young delinquents? But hey, why not? It would give me brownie points.

  But then, maybe Brianna and I would be long gone by the time the young hoodlums arrived. Nonetheless, I wanted Chris to think I was dependable. “Sure,” I said. “I’d love to.”

  Chapter Six

  Back at the camp, it was business as usual. Gerard giving me crap. Chris trying to be my friend and mentor. Me with one voice in my head telling me to chill and see this camp thing through, go back to school in the fall. Be good. And the other voice saying, Go for the girl. Run. Get the hell out of here. Go crazy. Start a new exciting life.

  But then things got a little complicated.

  It started as a food fight in the dining hall. The girls. I was watching Brianna from across the room. I’m pretty sure she started it. Somebody accidentally shoved against her as she was eating.

  Brianna shoved back—hard. And then the other girl, a tall big-shouldered one with short cropped hair, said something nasty. That’s when Brianna took her fork and flicked something— mashed potatoes I think—into her face. That was all it took.

  The big girl dropped her tray to the floor and reached for Brianna’s hair, grabbed it and pulled her backward. Brianna reached behind her for the girl’s head and smacked her in the ears.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  The two girls were fighting, and everyone was up and yelling. I felt sick to my stomach and tried to push my way through the crowd to help Brianna, but I couldn’t get there.

  Chris and a couple of the women counselors were pulling people apart and trying to get to the fighting girls, and when they did, Chris held his hands up to the mob to get some control while the two women pulled the girls apart. Brianna was pulled off, still swinging her arms and looking fierce. She didn’t look hurt, but the other girl had a bloody nose.

  I tried to make eye contact with her, and I yelled her name, but she was still struggling to free herself. Her arms were pinned behind her back by the woman counselor, and when I saw the handcuffs snapped on her wrists, I realized that these were not just youth counselors. These were trained corrections workers. I yelled Brianna’s name again, but she wasn’t looking my way.

  Both girls were led out of the dining hall, and soon after, so was everyone else. We were confined to our rooms for the night. When Chris came in, I asked him about Brianna.

  “She’s in isolation,” he said. “So is the other girl. Five days. That’s the rule.”

  “Just like Walkerton,” I said.

  “Not exactly. But we have to impose discipline.” Chris studied me. “You like this girl, right?”

  I thought it
was better not to say too much. After all, we had plans, Brianna and I. Plans to get the hell out of here.

  “No,” I said. “Just curious. I was starting to think of this as more like summer camp than prison.”

  “Think of it as summer camp with a few serious rules.”

  “Right.”

  That night, I thought of my own time in isolation at Walkerton. My first time, I had no idea how hard it was to be truly, truly alone, locked in a room with nothing but the stupid crazy thoughts going through your head. I hated every minute of it. I screamed out loud sometimes. I banged on the door. I got really antsy and thought I was losing my mind. And then I even cried. Cried like a baby. Isolation was tough. It was mean what it did to you. It’s not exactly like torture. You have no control. You have nothing. Nothing but yourself.

  And in my case, I’m not always that fond of my own company.

  I could imagine what this was doing to Brianna.

  So I played it cool. Went to bed, waited for everyone to be asleep, and then I got up and put my clothes on.

  I really didn’t know how they worked security here. Sometimes it seemed pretty slack. Other times you could see they could be serious. We all had been chosen to come here because it was believed we wouldn’t run. None of us wanted to get shipped to Walkerton, and we knew if we screwed up, we’d be there in a flash and we’d have a longer stay.

  But I really needed to find Brianna and see if she was okay. I scrambled low across the floor and out into the dimly lit hallway. One of the women counselors seemed to be on duty at a desk near the front door—the only way out of here. But she was watching a little portable tv and I think she had earphones in her ears. I guessed that Brianna was still somewhere in the building. I turned and headed to the farthest end of the hall.

  At the last doorway, I stopped, crouched low and listened. Nothing. I tried the handle. Locked, of course. “Brianna,” I whispered. Nothing. Then a little louder.