“My sarcastic little bean.”
“I met him for, what, three minutes? Four?”
“First impressions.”
“He also seems to like salmonoids.”
“You don’t think he was, I don’t know, young?”
“I’m super, super uncomfortable discussing your dating prospects.”
“He’s invited me to dinner tonight.”
Jared said, “None of my business.”
They walked together. Midday was boiling, but he had worn his shorts and his lightest T-shirt. Mave skipped over a broken part of the sidewalk and sidestepped a couple who were arguing as they turned onto Graveley Street.
“Would you mind if I burned some sage and sweetgrass in your apartment?” Jared asked.
“Of course not.”
“Thanks.”
“I have a drawer full of sweetgrass braids and sage bundles. Help yourself. Are you feeling all right?”
“I just need some grounding.” And to keep Bathrobe away, Jared thought.
“Change is always disorienting,” she said.
The apartment was still hot, so they opened all the windows. Jared had to peel the garbage bag off the one in his bedroom to get it open. The duct tape left a grey ring around the moulding. The room had a heavy coating of dust. Mave showed him the kitchen drawer filled with braids and bundles. He picked out the freshest-looking sage. She brought him an abalone shell the size of a small turtle and a fan made of so many eagle feathers it looked like a wing. The handle was beaded with a thunderbird. Jared happily walked through the apartment burning sage until the smoke detector in the hallway went off.
“There’s smudging and then there’s fumigating,” Mave shouted, holding her ears against the noise.
“Sorry.”
“Get me one of the tea towels from that drawer.”
When he brought one to her, she waved it under the alarm until it stopped bleating. For a moment, one of the painted figures, a little chief, seemed to be moving, but surely it was just the smoke and a trick of his eyes.
“What’s with the murals?” Jared said.
“Edgar. He said there was something living in the walls and it would come out at night and attack him. Painting the walls was supposed to keep it out of the apartment.”
“Ah.”
“If he comes around, go get Hank. He lives next door in apartment 201. I suppose we should get the locks changed.”
“Is Edgar dangerous?”
“Goodness, no. Just very confused. A little sad. He’s back in his mother’s house. He’s talented, isn’t he? I feel bad. I know these are the Tanis stories, but I find these murals so creepy. Remind me to pick up some primer.”
“Tanis?”
“The winter dances about the Man-Eater at the North End of the World and his four Man-Eating Birds that guard the four corners of the world. The one you’re staring at is Hok-hok, the skull splitter—have you heard the songs? I have a CD Barbie’s dance group made.”
“I’m good,” Jared said. When he’d seen the creature that lived under Sophia’s skin, it had made that sound—Hok! Hok!
Jared swept his room and wiped down his desk. He turned his laptop on and then went to get a bowl of mangoes. Mave was standing in his bedroom when he got back, studying one of the faces.
“We can paint over these too,” Mave said.
“I don’t mind them.”
“Not that I was snooping,” Mave said. “But I have a box of laptops in my room. None of them are the latest models, but any of them would be more recent than the one you have.”
“Why do you have a box of laptops?”
“I collect other people’s castoffs and bring them with me when I do workshops in the more remote reserves. The kids like to bang around on them.”
“Is that your job?”
“Sometimes. I’m mostly an adjunct at English departments—creative writing, indigenous lit, ecology—but I got a grant, so I’m taking a sabbatical to finish my book this year.”
“Oh,” Jared said. He guessed she meant she taught, but he didn’t want to look stupid, so he nodded like it made sense.
“Come on.”
A silver MacBook Air was among the cast-off laptops. He snatched it up, and then looked at her to make sure it was okay.
“I was going to use that one for travel,” she said. “But it has limited memory and I loathe cloud storage, especially when I’m out in camp for a few weeks. It’s yours.”
She dug the power cord out of the tangle of cords for him and they fired it up at the dining table. She went into her bedroom and brought her own laptop to the table.
“Could I have your wi-fi password?” Jared asked.
“Didn’t I give it to you?” she said.
“No.”
“Sorry, I thought I gave it to you. 1234Moody. I’m the D-Link 7831 network.”
“Thanks.”
Her wi-fi ran slower than a coffee shop. She’d left the wi-fi admin functions shortcut on the Air, so he checked her network map. “You’ve got twenty-three devices hooked up to your router. Are they all yours?”
“Really? Where do you see that?”
He turned the laptop so she could see the screen. “We can boot everyone off, change your password and reconnect just us,” Jared said.
“I would really appreciate that,” Mave said. “How wonderful to have tech support in my own home.”
“Some of Mom’s tenants would move out but park on our block and mooch wi-fi to download songs or movies. I had to change the password all the time or she’d be out there with a shotgun using their tires for target practice.”
“That sounds like Maggie.”
Jared glanced up. Mave was smiling wryly. He said, defensively, “She never shot any of them.”
“Dad gave her a slingshot for her sixth birthday and she almost took his eye out with it. He was a mean drunk. He tried to be mad, but she was his little Maggie-pie.”
“She never talks about him,” Jared said.
“She wouldn’t.”
She looked sad, so Jared let it drop. Mave made coffee while Jared changed the router settings. Once all the moochers were off, everything sped up. She brought her French press to the table and, after a while, poured them each a mug of coffee. They surfed together in silence occasionally broken by street sounds.
Adjunct, his web search read. Something added to another thing but not essential to it. Examples: Parts of a sentence that are used to elaborate on or modify other words or phrases. Also it is an abbreviation for a professor employed, usually part-time, by a college or university for a specific purpose or term.
“I can watch Netflix again without the swirly of death!” Mave said. “You are a miracle worker.”
“De nada.”
His phone pinged. Message from Mom. Jared took a deep, calming breath.
Ur my kid alrite, his mom had texted him. Cant tell u nothin. Sophia is dangerous u idiot. Ur gonna hafta figure it out 4 urself I guess.
Sorry, Jared texted back.
Dont b sorry. B smarter. & dont go running off wit Death. Stay wit Mave til Davidz outta our hair.
He hasn’t shown again.
Hez like herpes. U cant get rid of him & u never no when hez gonna pop up & ruin ur day.
Jared laughed. Miss u.
Weirdo.
TTYL
TTFN
Which reminded him to text Sophia. It seemed like they’d made peace, despite what his mom thought.
Thank you for the Vespa, Sophia. You didn’t have to. Drop by for coffee any time.
She didn’t message him back, but she didn’t go online as much as other people. He closed up his laptop and brought the coffee press back to the kitchen. When he tried to empty it, the garbage was overflowing, so he took the bag out of the can and asked Mave where to dump it.
“How are you still single?” Mave said.
* * *
—
Justice dropped by to help Mave pick out an out
fit for her date. They disappeared into the bedroom. Their laughter pealed through the apartment. Beyoncé belted out “Drunk in Love” while Justice warbled along and Mave sang the Jay-Z parts. Mave had given Jared her Netflix password, so he was flipping through the selection of movies on his laptop when the intercom buzzed.
“Hello,” he said.
“Is this Jared Martin?” a woman’s voice said, tinny through the intercom.
“Yes,” Jared said.
“This is Meredith Jaks,” the woman said. After a lengthy silence: “Sarah’s mother.”
“Oh.” Good gravy. Even David would be more welcome.
“Can I speak to you?” she said. “For just a few minutes. I promise I won’t take much of your time. Please, Jared.”
“Um. Okay.” Jared buzzed her up. They didn’t have the friendliest relationship. She’d threatened to call the cops on him the last time they’d met. Jared glanced around the apartment and wished it didn’t look so cluttered and hoarder-y.
A light knock. Jared held his breath, recited the Serenity Prayer as he walked down the hallway and opened the door.
Sarah’s mom had her black hair in a neat swoop and wore a navy pantsuit with flared bottoms that hid her shoes. She smiled tightly, but pleasantly, at him. He could see where Sarah had gotten her high cheekbones and her tall, lean frame. Her face looked Photoshopped flawless.
“Thank you for seeing me,” she said. “Can I come inside?”
“Sure.”
He didn’t offer her a beverage. He didn’t want to give her ammo if she wanted to throw something in his face. Not that she would. She was all business as she strode down the hallway and parked herself on the couch, ignoring the stacks of books everywhere and Beyoncé telling dudes if they like it then they should’ve put a ring on it. Her shoes were red and very pointed. Jared sat on the recliner.
Meredith cleared her throat. “Sarah left her self-harm retreat Thursday night. Has she tried to contact you?”
“We just started texting again last week,” Jared said. “But she hasn’t sent any messages to me since Thursday”
“Did she tell you her plans?”
“No.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“No. Sorry.”
“If Sarah contacts you again, please tell her I’m worried. We won’t send her back. I’d like to see her. Talk to her.”
“She’s pretty stubborn,” Jared said. “Once she makes up her mind, she’s a bull.”
“She thinks the world of you.”
“She’s lonely.”
Jared couldn’t make out whether her expression was anger, sadness or frustration. “Sometimes I work eighty hours a week. My husband does the same. We’re trying to give her a good life.”
“I’m not judging,” Jared said. “I’m saying she wouldn’t have gone out with me if she hadn’t been lonely.”
“She was at a protest and she threw herself between a police officer and a man she didn’t even know. She has a record now. Assaulting a police officer.”
“It’s a juvie record,” Jared said. “She’ll be fine.”
“I thought Dad could handle her. He was always so tough. I thought that’s what she needed. I didn’t know. I didn’t.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Jaks don’t like to ask for help,” Jared said. “They’re proud.”
She looked at the floor. “Mother explained how much they relied on you, towards the end.”
“They helped me, too,” Jared said. “It’s okay. We’re good.”
Something in the bedroom thumped. Mave and Justice burst out laughing again and they could hear them happily blaming each other—You did that! No, you! Sarah’s mom clenched her hands. They shook. She unclenched them.
“I think I need to say I’m sorry,” Jared said. “The sh—stuff I said to you when Sarah and I were breaking up, I really wanted to say to my own mom. We weren’t in a place where we could be honest with each other. A lot of that was about us, not you.”
Meredith blinked faster. “I appreciate that, Jared. That’s…very generous of you.”
Jared nodded, not knowing what else to say.
Meredith swallowed loudly. “She’s out there, alone.”
“She’s smart,” Jared said. “And she’s tough.”
Meredith reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. “Call me. Any time of the day or night. Any news. Anything you hear.”
Jared took the card. “She’ll be okay.”
“It’s not a kind world.”
“It’s not,” Jared agreed.
* * *
—
Have u heard from Sarah? Jared texted Crashpad, on the off chance they were still in contact.
Jared had given up on sleep and was parked at his desk, staring at his phone and his laptop. Sarah had gone radio silent. Her recent posts gave no clues. She’d taken some selfies of her feet, started a thread about settler tropes in popular TV series and posted a meme of Hot Felon Meeks. Jared messaged one of the friends she retweeted endlessly and he’d written back:
Fucking pig. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. The law is on MY side. Oink, oink, muthafucka.
Crashpad texted back: Ya she wuz in a self-harm retreat on Van Island & hated it. Told me she was leaving, but wouldn’t say where in case they confiscated her phone.
She’d told Crashpad she was rabbiting, but not him. He was the ex, but damn.
Can u tell her to txt me? Jared wrote.
Will do.
He heard the front door open. Mave’s heels clicked down the hallway. She knocked on his door.
“I’m back,” she said.
“How’d your date go?”
“We danced and danced,” she said. “My feet are killing me, but it was so worth it. See you in the morning.”
“Night.”
He heard Mave humming as she got ready for bed. He was tired, so it irritated him. He wished Sarah’d drop him a line, even to tell him to fuck off, and let him know she was okay.
15
Jared heard the TV turn on late Sunday morning and thought it was going to be the annoying bathrobe ghost. But Hank sat in the recliner, flipping through the channels. Jared was pretty sure Mave’d locked the door when she got home—he’d heard the lock click. Hank was wearing his security guard’s uniform, so maybe he was building staff here, but more likely Mave had given him a key to her apartment.
Hank looked up and his eyes locked on Jared. “Still here?”
“Hey,” Jared said.
“You need insurance for your scooter.”
“Good to know.”
Jared went into the kitchen and started another kettle for coffee. He wasn’t fond of French presses. He hated the fluorescent lights in the kitchen, their flicker and buzz. He rinsed out the press. He heard the recliner squeak as Hank stood. His boots clunked over to the kitchen, where he loomed in the doorway.
“Do you have a plan for dealing with this David guy?” Hank said. “You know, aside from whiny bitching on social media?”
“Dude, you don’t even know me,” Jared said.
“I know enough,” Hank said.
Jared decided he didn’t really need coffee. He tried to leave the kitchen, but Hank wouldn’t budge from the doorway. Jared considered Hank’s bulk, his scowling face. He stood close enough to feel Hank’s breath on his face and said, “Your parents were addicted, workaholics or just took off.”
“What?” Hank said.
“Control makes you feel safe. Thus your control issues.”
Hank looked like he wanted to grab Jared by the neck and wring, but he simply jabbed Jared in the chest. “At this point, I’m rooting for your stalker.”
Mave’s hand whipped out and smacked Hank upside the head. Hank turned around and she motioned for him to move. She grabbed Jared’s shoulder before he could retreat to the bedroom. Hank rubbed his ear, glaring at Jared.
“Hank and I need to discuss some things privately,” Mave said.
&nbs
p; “I’ll grab breakfast somewhere,” Jared said.
“No, no, no,” Mave said, grabbing his shoulders and steering him. “Just go onto the balcony. I want to talk to you too. Okay?”
Jared allowed himself to be aimed towards the balcony. Mave gave his back a pat before she let him go. He picked his way through the maze of books and turned at the balcony door to see Mave smiling fake-pleasantly and Hank Hulking-out. Jared stepped into the full heat of summer and shut the door behind him. He could hear Mave and Hank get into it instantly, an angry murmur. The hum of traffic blocked out their words. Jared sat on the rusty, badly spray-painted furniture and took his cell out of his back pocket. Still nothing from Sarah.
Mave opened the balcony door. She brought him a glass of orange juice and sat in the chair beside him. “You are most definitely Maggie’s boy.”
“He started it.”
“So you used your powers of observation for evil.”
“I don’t like being cornered.”
“Two of you put together don’t make one of Hank’s leg, so if he was a different person, you would be a stain on the floor, Jared.”
Jared shrugged. If Hank had wanted to make Jared a stain, he would’ve done it by now.
Mave nudged his foot with hers. “You just need to get to know him.”
“Wait,” Jared said. “If he’s your nephew, does that mean I have other aunts? Or uncles?”
“He’s really a cousin of ours. But I changed his diapers and babysat him, so he’s been calling me aunt since he was a fan of Teletubbies.”
A picture formed in Jared’s mind of Hank scowling at a TV screen while Tinky Winky, Laa-Laa, Dipsy and Po frolicked through grassy, bunny-filled meadows.
“Wow,” Jared said.
“His grandmother is my aunt, and your mother’s too, so she’s your great-aunt. She lives in a seniors’ complex eight blocks from here,” Mave said. “He’s on the graveyard shift so he can help her get to her medical appointments. He’s not a bad guy.”
“I never said he was.”
“You don’t have a poker face,” Mave said.
Jared felt his temples begin doing a low-level throb.
She reached over and grabbed his hand. “I want your mother back in my life. I want you back in my life,” Mave said. “I’m willing to grovel.”
Trickster Drift Page 10
