Dying to Go Viral

by Sylvia McNicoll

  “No!”

  “Good, we’ll take Lakeshore Road.”

  This meant the same fifteen-minute drive down to the lake that took an hour by bus and then a slow cruise by the beachside cottages and homes. The breeze tugged at the ends of my scarf and I felt like waving to the cyclists and rollerbladers who watched us. A royal wave.

  A steamship arrived at the lift bridge just as we did. A warning horn blasted and the two sides of the bridge parted and raised. I turned to say something to Aiden but he had his video camera trained on the bridge, I wasn’t sure I should break his concentration.

  I looked over the side where birds crowded the rock piles, gulls mostly, but in the straggly trees, some huge black cormorants hovered. I shivered. “Look at them!” I couldn’t help nudging Aiden. “Don’t they look like death birds?”

  “Awesome,” he said as he trained the camera on them.

  “What will you do with this video?” I asked him. “I mean you’re getting random clips of things. It’s not like it’s a story.”

  “Maybe nothing. But it’s all in the editing. If I don’t have any footage, I won’t have anything.”

  “Want to get out and watch the boat?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  Other people left their cars too and walked to the edge of the bridge. From close-up, a ship is huge. Looking down at this one, I wondered how the people on it lived. Did they have families waiting for them somewhere? What was it like to sail through open waters? Did they see whales or sharks? I always used to wonder about stuff like this; now the thoughts were tinged with a sense of regret. I would never know.

  The warning horn sounded and we scrambled back to the car. Aiden started the engine again and removed the handbrake, then we drove over the bridge and around the winding beach road till finally we pulled into Hutch’s parking lot. Aiden pressed a button and the roof rolled up from the back. When it touched the windshield, I helped him hook it in place. We climbed out, Aiden with his video camera, and continued toward the building. Aiden hustled ahead as though he was anxious he’d miss something exciting to film.

  I untied the scarf along the way, hoping it wasn’t the only thing making me look twenty-something.

  Inside the diner, we lined up and placed our orders: chicken fingers and chips for me (I was starved), and just chips for Aiden. The cashier gave us each a number: 32 and 33.

  “Let’s wait outside,” Aiden suggested and we headed back out to a picnic table facing the beach.

  We watched a lady throw a Frisbee for her dog. Black and shaggy, he looked as big as a grizzly and leaped impressively to catch it.

  Aiden didn’t say anything but held the camera up. The green light was on.

  We didn’t talk at all. He just commented on the great scenes he was getting. I didn’t know what to say. Once in a while, the sound system crackled on and I turned toward the building to listen for our numbers.

  On top of the peaked roof sat a row of seagulls, watching us. I nudged Aiden and pointed, and he turned the camera on them.

  “Thirty-two, Thirty-three,” the disembodied voice crackled.

  “That’s us,” I told Aiden and we headed back inside. The counter person slid over a paper plate with several wedges of battered chicken floating on a sea of fries. I immediately pumped a squiggle of ketchup over them. Aiden picked up his cardboard box of fries and sprinkled vinegar on. Then he turned to go back outside.

  But I hooked onto his elbow to stop him. No more videos; I wanted him to pay attention to me. “Look there’s a booth right in front of the window.” I headed quickly for it, across the black-and-white checkered floor, past the pinball machine and sports trophies, right in front of the big picture window. I rushed ahead and this time he followed. We slid into the booth.

  A jukebox sat on the table against the wall. All the music looked to be retro so I chose a couple of Beatles songs to impress Aiden with my maturity.

  Aiden didn’t comment. He didn’t talk at all while he ate. He just kept mechanically shoving chips in his mouth.

  Flirting. That’s what I was supposed to be doing right now. I’m sure Hailey once explained that was how to attract a guy’s attention. But I didn’t even know how to strike up a conversation with Aiden let alone anything beyond, and I was starving. I tried to slow myself down so that I could stretch the dinner into sunset. I looked at the clock on the wall: 7:30. Another twenty minutes, at least.

  “I’m going to the washroom,” Aiden said.

  “Okay.” The second he left, I googled “flirting” to see if there was someone out there on the Net who could help me. Instead an email message popped up from the Glowing Ember people. Three members have requested that you post your photo. I clicked over to the website to find out about these women, but before I could get too far, I saw Aiden returning. That was fast, I thought. I shut the phone.

  He sat down again. “If you’re not eating those, I’ll have them,” Aiden said when he noticed a couple of chicken strips still on my plate.

  “Sure.” I slid my tray over to him.

  The light began to fade outside. Aiden finished the fingers in about four bites, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Mmm. That was good. Let’s go outside to catch the sunset.”

  It wasn’t like sitting with Scratch, legs up on his for comfort, two pals just not talking ’cause they didn’t feel like it. We sat down on a picnic table closer to the water, Aiden totally absorbed in catching the sinking sun on his camera, completely ignoring me.

  It felt lonelier than actually sitting alone. I wished I had brought Oreo. He would have enjoyed the seagulls. Still, the sun kind of melted into the lake, like a round orange ball of butter. A beautiful, if quiet, ending to a noisy day.

  I glanced at Aiden’s lips. I should just get it over with. Plant my mouth on top of his. In five days I’d be gone and I still wouldn’t have kissed him. But I couldn’t. Even though I was dead, I still had my limits.

  Once the sun set, the air became cool. Back at the car, we both agreed that the roof should stay up. “Might as well take the expressway, too,” Aiden said. “We’re not going to enjoy the view with the top on anyway.”

  Disappointing, but the quick ride was a plus in another way. I beat Dad and Devon home by about ten minutes. By the time they came in, I had uploaded Dad’s photo onto the Glowing Ember site and changed his nickname to Hard Working—Creative Genius seemed too braggy. I was searching for Breakfast at Tiffany’s clips with Oreo stretched out on the desk in front of me.

  “Dad, have you seen this movie?” I asked. Devon stepped around to my other side to see, too.

  “Hasn’t everyone? That’s Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard.”

  “Would you have a copy somewhere?”

  “No, but I’m sure I can download one. Scootch out for a second and let me see.”

  “Isn’t there a game on?” Devon complained.

  “Oh, you might want to give Aiden a call,” I told him. “He came around looking for you.”

  He glanced at me for a moment, then just frowned and headed out of the office.

  Meanwhile Dad downloaded a copy of Breakfast and even joined me in the theatre room to watch it.

  “Was Devon a help today?” I asked innocently.

  “He’s actually pretty good on the phone. The customers he delivered to really like him, too.”

  “Maybe he should join the business,” I suggested.

  Distracted by the opening credits on the screen, Dad didn’t answer. Instead he said, “Your mother used to love this movie.”

  My father never says anything about Mom. She’s almost a forbidden subject—too painful, I guess. We settled down to watch. Oreo came and sat on top of my feet which was funny because the Audrey Hepburn character also had a cat. It was like Oreo watched because he knew a friend of his was in it.

  Audrey Hepburn played this glamorous lady who called herself Holly Golightly. Too goofy for a real name, I thought. She wore a ton of eye makeup. I winced. Too much. Was t
hat why I reminded Aiden of her? But she also piled her hair on top of her head. Maybe that was it.

  The story was about how she and this writer, Paul, fell in love with each other, all the while denying it to themselves as they went out with wealthy people. Holly always seemed sad, too, and at one point, she pitched her cat out of the cab which made me want to cry. Instead I picked up Oreo and cuddled with him till he meowed and struggled away.

  Holly also wore oversized sunglasses and scarves as I did for my Mustang ride; hats in some scenes, pearls and gowns and tiaras in others.

  Finally I had to ask Dad, “Is Audrey Hepburn beautiful, do you think?”

  “I like her. There’s a vulnerability about her.”

  Great, maybe that was the way I reminded Aiden of her. Still, what I liked about the movie was the way the George Peppard character looked at Holly. Sometimes he seemed perplexed, other times admiring, but always there was such a strong love shining in his eyes.

  I realized I didn’t just want to kiss Aiden. I wanted him to look at me in that way.

  Chapter 14

  MOVING IN FOR THE KILL

  Next morning it was Wednesday, the day that used to be reserved for family outings. I munched on peanut-butter toast as the sun rose again. The glowing sky made me feel calmer about my situation. Then I headed off to work with Dad. But without Devon since it was his day off— so not a full family outing. Dad’s building was part of a strip of warehouses on Industrial Boulevard and the office took open concept to the extreme. Exposed pipes ran across the lofted ceiling and no walls divided the six desks from each other or from the machine area in the back.

  Too bad there was no way of hiding that mess. Between the two industrial-sized printers lining the wall, tape balls and scraps of plastic littered the floor. Bins overflowed with paper and bits of laminate. Plastic and cardboard sheets of all colours spilled from the half-open supply cabinet.

  “Gets a bit rough when we’re on deadline,” Dad explained as he took his seat in the front. His was the first of four identical tables, each with two large screens sitting on them and a goose-necked lamp. He booted up his computer and the screens both lit up. “Take Simon’s desk.” He pointed to the one next to him. “He’s away in Calgary this week.”

  I sat down. The front part of the warehouse didn’t look as bad, cleaner for sure. Pale grey linoleum floors blended with the exposed walls but splashes of colour came from the books on the shelves and the posters hanging from those walls. One banner, stretching across an entire wall, read Brilliant Graphics over and over in every colour imaginable.

  Drive Green, another sign read in fake lime-green grass letters.

  “Is that one new?” I pointed to a 3D poster from which a clothes line popped out with actual towels, pants and t-shirts, hanging on it. The pants had the word Ecosoap printed across the pockets.

  “Yeah, that one was Devon’s ideas.”

  “He’s pretty creative.”

  “All he needs is a little schooling to direct him,” Dad said.

  One-track mind, my father.

  “So, do you want to be treated like everyone else?” he asked me.

  “Um, sure.” I didn’t really know what I wanted except to be closer to him for at least one day.

  “Then go make us some coffee. That’s the first thing Devon does every morning on his days in. You know where the kitchen is. Beside the printers.” He pointed to the other end of the warehouse where cupboards and a counter lined the wall. I walked past the desks and filing cabinets and around a huge glass meeting table to the kitchen, where a glossy, black all-in-one coffee maker stood on the counter.

  “Man,” I grumbled as I read the instructions. “Nothing simple around here.” I followed all the steps and then the Grinder Brewmaster chugged into action.

  Andy, Viktor, and Robin drifted in one by one. I’d met all of them on various trips into the office, when I’d been sick as a little kid or on the way out somewhere when Dad needed to check on one more thing. Or at shows we’d all attended using free tickets from clients.

  Andy switched on the sound system to a soft rock station.

  “You’re getting so big,” Viktor said as he grabbed his cup of coffee. “My goodness you’re taller than me.”

  Most people were taller than Viktor and I could have pointed out that he was growing bigger too. But right then he offered me a fresh danish from a white box.

  “How can you eat so much sugar first thing in the morning?” Robin scolded as she stepped into the kitchen area and poured her coffee. Her bracelets jangled against the cup as she sipped. Everything about Robin was bright. The blue streaks in her hair, the yellow shirt-dress she was wearing along with the sequined flipflops. The only female employee, she always stood out around the guys who wore blacks and dark browns. Too bad she was too young for Dad. “Mmm, good coffee, Jade,” Robin said as she sipped.

  “Thanks.” I headed back to my father’s desk, carrying him a cup with a teaspoon of sugar the way he liked. Deep in a phone discussion, he nodded at me as I set it down as far away from the keyboard as possible.

  I watched him for a moment, enjoying the way he laughed and joked with the other person. I waited to see him switch to the serious: maybe details of the job the person was ordering, or deadlines or future orders. He placed a hand over the receiver and spoke to me instead. “Can you clean the back next? Take all the garbage out. Devon didn’t have time yesterday.” He returned to his telephone conversation.

  Working close to Dad was more what I had in mind. I sighed, headed for the machine area and pulled a garbage bag from the supply cabinet. It took me about ten minutes to fill it and as I hauled it outside, Andy approached the kitchen grabbing his second danish for the morning.

  “Aren’t there any child labour laws you’re violating?” Andy called to Dad, winking at me.

  I filled another three bags with floor scraps and bin overflow, making trips outside with them in between. My phone vibrated in the middle and I read a text message from Scratch:

  Where r u?

  I keyed in: @ work with Dad

  Seconds later he texted back: C u later?

  Ok, I answered.

  Then I swept the floor and emptied the bins. By the time I started shuffling the coloured plastic sheets in the supply cupboards into neat piles, my stomach rumbled. The clock on the microwave said 12:30. Great, Dad would take me out. I cleaned up in the washroom in the back, then finger fluffed my hair a bit and walked to the front.

  “Hey!” Dad hung up from another phone conversation. He stood and looked toward the machine room. “Wow. Great job. Hungry?”

  “Oh yeah!”

  “How about we go to Crêpe World. Robin, you want to come too, my treat?”

  She looked at me and smiled. “Sure.”

  I followed them out to the parking lot where Robin insisted I should sit in the front of the jeep. “If you’re so busy, why doesn’t Devon work with you full time?” I said as we drove off.

  “I didn’t think I’d have enough work for him at the beginning of summer. He was always supposed to find something somewhere else.” Dad’s tone implied Devon never bothered.

  “Who would want to work anywhere else?” Robin chimed in from the back.

  “Yeah. Most kids I know have to work in retail or lawn service.” We turned into the strip mall for the crêpe restaurant. “Or fast food.”

  “Well, I did give Devon more hours. But to really contribute, he would need training.”

  School, I thought. With Dad everything always circled the same way.

  Inside, Dad called to the man working the crêpe machine. “Hey Leo, I brought my daughter!”

  Leo grinned and waved back. He seemed pretty happy to see us. “I’ve got something new for you all to try. A special dessert. So what will you have for lunch?”

  Dad ordered a curried beef crêpe, I chose seafood Newburg and Robin asked for her regular, a spinach Veronique. We watched as Leo flipped and filled the thin pancakes.
Then he handed us each our plates which we carried on a tray to a booth.

  “What kind of training would Devon need?” I asked as we ate. “I mean, would he have to go to one of those far-away specialized universities that’s really hard to get into?”

  Robin jumped in. “Gosh, no. He knows computers really well already. He could even take courses in graphic design at one of the local community colleges.”

  “The key thing with Devon is that he has to want it,” Dad said as he wolfed through his lunch, one eye on his smartphone.

  “He doesn’t want to go to university,” I told him.

  Dad frowned. He opened his mouth to say something but the phone rang and he picked up instead. “Yes.” He paused. “Sure, I have time. I just finished.” He wiped at his mouth with a napkin. “Okay. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He stood up. “This is important. And the great thing is, Jade, it has to do with the family outing I’m planning. I have to go.”

  “The fishing service?” I asked.

  He winked. “Yeah. That one. You ladies enjoy the rest of your lunch. Robin, if I’m back late, could you find some work for Jade?”

  “No problem,” Robin answered. When I first got my period, Dad had dragged me to the office so she could help me out. Finding work for me would be way less awkward for her.

  We continued eating as Dad left with the jeep.

  “Guess we’ll have to walk,” I said, rolling my eyes. Dad hadn’t even thought about how we were getting back.

  “The exercise will do us good, I suppose.” Robin sighed and shook her head.

  At least without Dad around, I could pump Robin for advice on guys. I took a sip of water. “Um, Robin. Do you go out a lot? On dates, I mean.”

  “Nah. I live with a guy, Mark, remember? You met him at the hockey game.”

  “Right,” I answered, only recollecting vaguely that she had come with someone with spiky hair.

  “Why? You going out with someone?” she put her napkin on her plate.

  “No. Unfortunately.”

  She grabbed her purse. “Give it time. Guys will come to their senses.”