45

a bus lumbers through the University of Guelph

Liz paces back and forth at the bus stop.

It’s cold out here but it should be warm enough inside the Waterfront Mall.

If the bus doesn’t get here soon she’ll have to wait half an hour or more for her cameras to warm up when she gets there. She glances at her watch. Again. Where is Natasha? Stamping her feet to keep warm she looks back down the path to the Res.

The Auto Show was all Natasha’s idea. Lets go take pictures of these great antique cars, Natasha said. Just us girls, she said. Smell the leather, she said. Get up close and personal with real history, she said.

So where is she?

Liz spots the bus lumbering up the main road.

Natasha will just have to come later on her own, Liz isn’t waiting out here any longer. It’s too cold.

Global warming. Hah.

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46

looking down at a foot walking through leaves

He looks down at his feet crunching the leaves. Stomping them. Follow the path through the woods. Take the short cut for the scenic route. Beautiful day. But so cold. Just like Barbie. Time to take control of his destiny. He’s a man after all. He can’t allow her to control him anymore.

He has to stop thinking about her beautiful hair. Bright as gold. Or the swell of her breasts. Her scent. Her lips.

He can feel his blood rushing now. Just from the thought of her. That’s wrong because he can feel himself getting excited. Wrong wrong wrong, he thinks. And it’s starting to hurt. Walking. He has to get off the path. It could be embarrassing, messy. She acts as though she’s a princess and he’s a … tool that she can use. Take what she wants then cast him aside.

He was a perfect gentleman. She should appreciate him. Instead she treats him as though he is less than dirt. Will she ever think he’s good enough? Will he ever be real to her?

He stumbles off the path into the woods, feeling the rage mount with his erection. He can’t control the power. He looks around, he’s off the path, no one can see him here. He opens his pants thinking maybe if he relieves himself …

His face is wet, oh God. He’s crying over her. Stop it. It’s as though she’s cast a spell over him. He has to get her out of his head because she is messing up his mind.

He reaches down and starts rubbing himself.. He can feel the heat rising but then he flashes on the contempt in her eyes and his erection deflates with his sobs.

She made him feel so wonderful at first.

Staring down at the expression of his manhood dangling limp between his legs, he can’t believe she has done this to him. Why? It’s crazy. Couldn’t she see how good it would have been? He has got to put her out of his mind. He rubs his sleeve across his face, trying to mop up the tears that seem endless. How can he be so weak? How could he let her do this to him?

The crack of a twig behind him is as loud as a rifle shot.

Oh God no.

He freezes in horror. Maybe it’s imagination?

No.

There is someone coming. That’s bad.

Even worse is the girl voice coming through the trees, getting closer, calling out, “Are you all right?”

The idea of a woman seeing him all … all hanging out, snot running down his face … eyes red … crying. Men don’t cry. As quick as they began the tears stop now.

He doesn’t dare speak. His heart batters his chest, he hopes she will go somewhere else.

He can not be found like this. No one can see him like this, especially a woman. Quietly he moves behind the tree, leaning against the trunk to quiet his breathing. When he reaches to put himself back in his pants the erection is unaccountably back, even more insistent than before.

Maybe she’s gone. No. He hears her call out again, “Hello?” Why can’t she just leave him alone?

She should just go away. But no. Too much to hope for. He hears the leaves crunch as she pushes closer to him.

He moves farther back, working his way around some bushes. And now the erection won’t go down. It seems to have a life of its own, sticking out in front of him like a lance. He can’t. It just won’t fit into his pants like this … what is that damned woman doing … he can’t hear her.

Crouching behind the bushes he discovers a handy tree stump, and he sinks onto it. The thicker brush screens him, making him feel a bit safer. Looking down he’s amazed to see if anything he’s even harder than before. No way a zipper will be able to contain this. But the damned woman is still blundering around out there. Maybe if he takes off his jacket and covers himself, he can pretend …

No. He’s a grown man. He shouldn’t have to pretend anything. He shouldn’t have to hide. He left the path for privacy. He is minding his own business. He didn’t ask for company. He is entitled to find his own peace in the forest. He picks up a stick.

Flashes of her through the shrubbery. “Is there someone here? Do you need help?” It’s that red haired girl, the nasty little Natasha. The one he saw punch out her boyfriend. That Boris is a big guy but she knocked him down and he didn’t even fight back, he just took it like a sap.

Damn woman’s almost found him.

That can’t happen. It can’t it can’t it can’t. Oh god in heaven she’s going to find him.

He watches her move around the tree and tentatively step back onto the path. He can see her clearly from behind. How much damage does she need to do in a day? He tightens his grip on the stick and stands up.

The woman is dangerous.

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47

Close on the face of a weatherbeaten Statue in a courtyard at the University of Toronto

Boris comes out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, heading up the stairs to the girl’s kitchen. He knows the upper level is off limits but nobody’s here and it’s an emergency. Maggie has that bag of frozen peas she uses as an icepack when her trick ankle swells. Nobody will have stolen that because even the local food thieves know those peas have been defrosted and refrozen so many times that eating them would mean a sure trip to the hospital side.

Not that any of the students ever seem to actually eat anything as nutritious as peas, he starts to smile at the thought but the pain stops him cold. He needs those peas.

He’s wrapping Maggie’s bag of peas in a tea towel when Elsie comes in.

“What happened to you?”

Boris jumps, then realizes Elsie is more interested in his busted face than in busting him. He starts to smile but the pain stops it dead.”I assumed the whole school would know by now.”

Elsie smiles. “I’m not the whole school. Let me see.”

She corners him, reaches up and tilts his chin back. so she can examine his eye in the light.

“I’ve had black eyes before. I’ll live.”

“You can’t be too careful with your eyes Boris. A trauma can detach a retina. Hang on a minute.” Elsie leaves him leaning on the cupboard while she roots through the drawer.

“Natasha hit me.”

“Ah.” She holds up a small bright LED flashlight.

Boris swallows, afraid of what she’ll find.

“Don’t look so worried. I’m just looking, it won’t hurt. I may only be a student but I can probably tell you if you need to go in and see a real doctor. All right?”

Boris nods. “It hurts more than my last black eye.”

“Here, what I want you to do is lean back and look up. Tilt your head back. Just like that. Keep staring up and I’m going to shine the light in your eyes. Try not to blink.”

“Okay.” Boris leans back and concentrates on keeping his eyes open and still, trying not to flinch when she shines the powerful little flash in his eyes. It seems to take forever but then suddenly she switches it off. It’s over.

“So what do you think,” he asks nervously as she tucks the flashlight back into the drawer full of odds and ends.

She smiles at him. “I can’t see anything wrong. Use the ice, take Tylenol. If it hurts tomorrow, you should see a real doctor.”

He nods. “Thanks, Elsie.”

She turns away and it occurs to him for the first time that Elsie the maneater has just had him pinned in the corner wearing nothing but a towel. Suddenly he feels a little hurt.

“Is that it?” he asks, wrapping the peas in the towel, and gently laying it against his eye.

She turns back and says, “I can’t write you a prescription, I’m only a student.” then she registers the look of rejection on his face, and a smile plays around the corners of her mouth. “Ah. You mean,” she points to him, and says, “boy,” to herself, “girl”, then pointing at his “towel?”

He starts to blush, says, “Well, uh, yeah.”

“In the first place, you’re a patient. The most important thing in my life is becoming a doctor. Even wannabe doctors have to take care not to dally with patients. That’s one. And two, I have an exam to study for.”

Boris is happy that at least she didn’t say he was ugly.

Still.

“That’s not what I meant. I mean from a woman’s point of view, what’s wrong with me?”

The smile reaches her eyes. “Not a thing, Boris.” She appraises his form seriously, then continues, “You’re very nearly perfect. You’ve got a great body. Good muscle tone, definition. Perhaps your nose is a bit too perfect, a touch too straight. A little jog would make it nearly irresistible. Maybe next time get her to go for the nose and leave your eyes alone. When they’re not bashed in you have beautiful eyes. A good face.”

Boris looks a little bit happier to hear how great he is. “Really? You really think so?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you. I like you, Boris, but you’re a romantic. And much as I’d enjoy divesting you of that towel, I don’t think it would do either of us any good. Do you?”

Sadly he says, “Oh, I don’t know.”

She winks at him. “But I’m only human after all, so maybe you’d better go put some clothes on just the same.” She smiles down at the towel, licks her lips, then turns on her heel and heads out of the kitchen.

Boris finds himself smiling in spite of himself. Maybe he isn’t a total loser. Maybe he will be fighting off the babes at the pub.

Good muscle tone she said. He flexes, making sure to keep a good grip on the frozen peas. Held gently against the sore eye. Ow.

Great body, eh?

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48

many seats are filled, a lot going on

Mouse and Amelia sit at the back of the lecture hall across the aisle from Jose and Eric. Mouse dutifully types notes, but Amelia finds herself spending all her time texting back and forth with Eric.

eric:
do you think she misses me?

amelia:
I don’t know, why don’t you ask her?

eric:
does she seem different at all?

amelia:
not to me… but I’m not really friends with her.

eric:
Y not?

amelia:
We’re into different stuff

Eric looks across at Amelia. She’s holding out on him. Hmm.

eric:
the real reason?

amelia:
she doesn’t have friends.

eric:
you think she’s lonely?

amelia:
i doubt it very much

Amelia glances at Eric. Let somebody else tell the poor schnook, She’s not going to.

eric:
you don’t think she misses me?

amelia:
she’s pre-med. you know how heavy a course load that is.

eric:
i miss her

amelia:
i know you do, I’m sorry. you hear bout Boris and Natasha?

eric:
no, what about b & n?

amelia:
really? where were you at lunch?

eric:
what about Boris and Natasha?

amelia:
big fight

eric:
about what?

amelia:
don’t know, nobody knows. one minute lovey dovey next minute Natasha decks him

eric:
Natasha? U say five foot nothing Natasha decked 6 foot squared Boris? i don’t believe it.

amelia:
that’s coz you’re a 98 pound English geek

eric:

hmmmph I’ll have you know that I weigh at least 135

amelia:
anyway, that’s the story

eric:
ur just making this up to make me feel better

amelia:
it happened ask anybody

eric:
anybody except me, eh?

amelia:

didn’t see it myself but seems everybody else did

eric:
hmmm

amelia:

what?

eric:
was everybody texting about me and Elsie too?

amelia:
not really

eric:
what does ‘not really’ mean

amelia:
nobody knew anything. u didn’t explode in the oval either

eric:
Natasha really hit Boris?

amelia:
knocked him down is what they say.

eric:
what did people say about us?

amelia:
one minute you and Elsie r joined at hip and the next ur not.

eric:
what did he do when she hit him?

amelia:

he fell down.

eric:
figure of speech?

amelia:
real deal

Eric looks at Amelia, who pantomimes crossing her heart.

amelia:
you know, most everybody will be out tonight

eric:
and?

amelia:
y don’t we have a depression party

eric:
a what?

amelia:
my girlfriend and i used to do that all the time in high school

eric:
what u talking about A?

amelia:
pretty much everybody’s going out for computer club night.

eric:
i know that. what i don’t understand is “depression party”

amelia:
eat popcorn & chocolate and watch depressing movies & listen to depressing music. drink cheap wine 2 if u want

eric:
movies like what?

amelia:
maybe titanic?

eric:
oh that’s a great movie. excellent special effects and…

amelia:
OK, that one’s out then

eric:
why? it’s a great movie!

amelia:
disqualified for fun parts. supposed to be depressing

eric:
A? what IS the point?

amelia:
idea of depression party is to wallow in your agony.

eric:
ok… i know >I< have agony... i didn't know you have agony amelia:
i do…. trust me on this

eric:
great girl like you what could possibly be depressing in your life?

amelia:
maybe i’ll tell you sometime

eric:
how bout Grave of the Fireflies.

amelia:
nuclear aftermath? what i’ve heard, if i didn’t start out depressed that’d give me depression, am i right?

eric:
but why are you depressed?

amelia:
why does anybody get depressed?

eric:
ah. i didn’t think you were going out with anybody.

amelia:
that would about do it.

eric:

what, guys aren’t beating down your door?

amelia:
lol… not hardly…

eric:
i don’t believe that

amelia:
not the one i want beating down my door anyway

eric:
oh… there’s one you want…. do tell…who’s the lucky guy?

amelia:
i’d have to kill you if i told you

eric:
Not fair. you know the cause of my misery.

amelia:
i hate to tell you this eric, but the entire world knows that

eric:
good point… come on A… i’ll never tell.

amelia:
so, i hear Fireflies is supposed to be really heavy.

eric:
uh, yeah, it is. I’ve got Requiem for a Dream, too

amelia:
get out. guess I’ll have to bring La Jette to lighten it up

eric:

what’s that?

amelia:
an old movie, but I think you’ll like it.

eric:
wait a minute A… this mean i’m your girlfriend?

amelia:
lol… no stupid it means you’re a friend… besides my girlfriends don’t hv 5 o’clock shadow ;D

eric:
darn… thought if i was your girlfriend you’d have to tell me who you have the hots for

amelia:
c’mon why do you want to know?

eric:
so i can mess him up if he won’t go out with my buddy

amelia:
doesn’t work that way unfortunately… *sigh*

eric:
sounds great. can’t wait for the depression party kiddo

amelia:
why is that?

eric:
wallowing in agony is mighty appealing but i figure i’ll be able to pry your secret out of you

amelia:
lol you fool

eric:
you can tell me… really

amelia:
maybe some day

eric:

ve haff ways of making you talk

amelia:
i’m not saying a word.

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49

Geese walk along a campus walkway outside the windows, photographed at University of Waterloo

Liz is pacing in the the nearly empty cafeteria, cell phone pressed tightly to her ear. It rings and rings as she paces. Back and forth in front of the windows she peers out at the fall foliage without really seeing it. Why doesn’t someone answer?

She waves at Jake coming in through the entrance, snapping the phone closed when he joins her.

“Anything?” she asks anxiously.

Shaking his head, Jake says, “No, nobody’s seen her.”

“The car show was her idea.”

“I agree it’s not like her, but beating up Boris isn’t either.”

“Beating up Boris? What are you talking about?” Liz can see Jake’s not kidding, but still. “You’re saying Natasha beat up Boris?”

“Apparently she knocked him down in the oval, in full sight of pretty much the whole school. But that was at lunch and nobody’s seen her since.”

“I don’t get it. I can’t even imagine them having a disagreement, let alone a physical fight.”

“Nobody heard what it was about, it was just the two of them. But everybody saw her deck him. Still, it’s hard to know where she went after. Most people think she took the path to the parking lot, not the residence.”

“That makes sense ’cause she was supposed to catch the bus with me. And nobody answers at the Res. But it doesn’t explain why she didn’t come to the show.”

“Keeping a low profile? Maybe she went to the mall.”

“Then why doesn’t she answer her phone?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to anybody. Did you try texting her?”

“She’s not answering texts either.” Liz flips open her phone again, and redials. This time the phone at the Res is picked up. “Hi who’s this?” Liz asks hopefully.

“Elsie. Is that you Liz?”

“Yeah, look, is Natasha there?”

“No, she’s not. Do you want to talk to Boris?”

Liz can hear Boris, saying in the background, “I don’t want to.”

Liz rolls her eyes. Uh oh. Boris and Elsie alone in the Res, not answering the phone. That’s bad. Uh oh.

Then Elsie says, “But it isn’t Natasha.”

Then Boris is on the line. “Yo.”

Although she knows the answer, Liz has to ask, “Boris, is Natasha there?”

“No. I don’t know where she is but she sure isn’t here.”

“Could you just check her room please?”

“You know what, I really don’t care where she is.”

“Bo, I’m worried.” Liz flashes on Maggie saying “I was worried about you.” There’s a clunk as the receiver drops.

“Boris! Boris don’t.”

Elsie is on the line again. “Sorry. He bailed and went back to his room. Is there something I can do to help?”

“Could you just check Natasha’s room, see if she’s there? Nobody has seen her.”

“I’m sure she’s not, but I’ll check.” Elsie gently lays the phone down beside its receiver.” Liz covers the mouthpiece and tells Jake, “Elsie’s gone to look.”

“That’s good.” Jake nods. “Boris didn’t want to talk?”

“Nope.” Liz resumes pacing. “Jerk.”

“Jerk? Why is he a jerk?”

“He doesn’t care about Natasha.”

“Liz, some on. She punched him out in front of the whole school. He’s probably mad at her.”

“But she could be …”

“She humiliated him in front of the whole world. She hit him.” Jake explains.

“Oh, come on he’s a big guy. She couldn’t hurt him.”

“What do you mean? Of course she could hurt him.” Jake shakes his head. “You think a person’s size has anything to do with whether they feel pain?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Even if Boris was impervious to physical pain, which I doubt, then there’s the psychic pain of being humiliated in public. She knocked him down, Liz. Legally it’s ‘assault and battery’.”

“Why are you making such a big deal out of it?”

“You don’t think it’s a big deal?”

“Well no, not really.”

Jake shakes his head in disgust. “Would it be a big deal if Boris hit Natasha?”

“Well, sure.”

“So why is this any different?”

“Because she’s tiny. Because he’s big. Because …”

“You’re saying it’s okay to hit someone bigger than you?”

“I never, I mean, well I didn’t say that. Exactly. I guess I never really thought about it.” she says.

Jake looks up at Liz. “You’re bigger than I am. Does that make it okay for me to punch you?”

“No, of course not.”

“So it’s not all right for small guys to hit big girls, but it’s okay for small girls to hit big guys.”

“When you put it like that … Well… I don’t know.”

“I do know. Gender does not give anybody the right to hurt anybody. The only justification for violence is self defense.”

“I guess you’re right, Jake, it’s just that, well you just don’t think about stuff like that.”

“Maybe you don’t. But women aren’t the only people who have violence done to them you know.”

“Violence against women was condoned for a long time.”

“And that was wrong. Just like violence against men is wrong. Or violence against children. There’s always something, maybe skin color, sexual orientation or simple geekiness that gets the shit kicked out of you. But it doesn’t really matter whether the excuse is gender or religion. It’s still just an excuse for people who want to kick the shit out of you. It’s violence that’s the problem.”

Liz holds up a finger to indicate Elsie’s back on the phone. “No sign, huh? If she shows, can you ask her to call me? I’m gonna look for her. Sure I’ll let you know when I find her. Thanks, Elsie.”

She hangs up and stows it again, this time pulling on her jacket. “Elsie says she’s not there. She’ll tell the house mother and the residence security guard to keep a look out.”

“So now what?”

“I’m gonna find her,” shaking her head, “I just don’t understand what happened.”

“Hang on a minute.” She looks over and sees he’s pulling a fleece sweater out of his bag. “I’ll help.” As they cross the lobby, Liz detours to the security desk, where a gaunt older man in a baggy security uniform is writing in a log book.

“Hey Vlad. I’m looking for my friend Natasha.”

Jake is surprised to see the slightly sinister looking man, the one that reminds him of Underworld’s Victor, take one look at Liz and undergo a transformation worthy of any good horror flick. Vlad’s usually stern countenance is replaced by a smile of happy recognition. “Hello, Miss Liz,” he rumbles in a deep thickly accented voice, “This is little red haired girl you work late at night with?”

“Yes. She’s missed classes and no one has seen her.”

“I’m sorry I have not seen her either. It is not long enough for official search but I can ask other guards to watch out for her.” He unclips the Blackberry from his waist and sets it on the counter.

“Do you have a picture?” He gestures to her phone.

Liz beams. “Great idea!” She scrolls through the images then sends a face shot of Natasha to Vladimir’s Blackberry. Then reaches over and gives him a peck on the cheek, and says, “Thanks so much, Vlad.”

The guard looks like he’s about to implode with pleasure, but he masters himself and holds up a finger, “Just remember this is very unofficial Miss Liz”.

Liz nods. “I understand. We’re gonna go check the paths.” Vlad eyes Jake, clearly wondering how much help the boy will be, worried he will be no help at all if there is trouble.

“Maybe I should accompany you also.” he mutters.

“No, I don’t want you to get into trouble Vlad. Just spreading the word will help a lot.”

“Hey look,” says Jake, “There’s Quentin. He was gonna come to the computer club meeting but I’ll bet he’ll help look for her.” Jake and Liz wave at Vlad and hurry after Quentin who is just stepping though the main doors into the waning light. Following him out, Liz sees he’s heading toward the married student residence complex. Liz yells, “Hey Q! Wait up,” and Quentin, turns and waits for them to catch up with him.

Quentin tells Jake, “Sorry, can’t make the meeting tonight.”

“This is different,” says Liz, “Have you seen Natasha, Q?”

“She’s probably laying low.” he smiles. “I know I would.”

“But Nobody’s seen her all afternoon. I’m worried about her. We were going to The Auto Show together, but she never showed. Jake and I are going to search for her. Can you help?”

“You think she’s out here somewhere?” asks Quentin?

“I don’t know Q. She didn’t go home, or make any classes, so I’m worried. Maybe she’s off campus, but she might be out there. And you know how stubborn she is. She might think freezing her butt off is better than having to face Bo.”

“I guess we could just walk the paths, see if she’s running around out here.” Quentin agrees. “Have you tried calling her?”

Liz nods miserably. “All afternoon. Ever since she stood me up. I’ve left messages, but her phone’s off.” Liz brushes at her eyes. “Oh Q, where is she?” Liz starts to sniffle.

Ethan joins the trio, smiling rapturously at Liz until he sees how upset she is. Opting for neutrality Ethan says, “Hey, guys, what’s happening?” He’s a little disconcerted no one answers him.

Quentin says, “Don’t worry, when me and Tammy fight, first thing I do is turn off my phone. The last thing you wanna do in a fight is talk on the phone. Fighting has to be in person.”

Ethan asks, “What’s wrong?”

Liz says, “Natasha’s missing.” Then she bursts into tears.

Ethan tentatively steps toward her and pulls her into a hug. “It’ll be okay, Liz”. He awkwardly pats her back.

“She was here at lunch, so she’s only been gone a couple of hours right? Let’s just find her, then, okay?” Ethan asks, “Uh… would she have a camera with her?”

“Oh yeah. She always has the little Nikon ’cause it fits in her pocket.” Liz wipes her eyes on her sleeve. “Coming to The Auto Show she’d have at least one of her digital SLRS.” She rubs her eyes.

“So maybe she’s just out there taking pictures.”

“Maybe. But the light’s almost gone. She should be back by now if she was on a shoot. It’s just I’ve got a bad feeling.”

Her face is all blotchy and wet, her nose is puffy, and Ethan’s breath catches as he thinks how gorgeous she is. Not sure what his role is, he digs in his pocket and offers Liz a handful of paper napkins accumulated from fast food restaurants over the life of the pea coat.

Liz accepts the napkins gratefully, using the offering to mop her face. “OK, I’m OK. Lets go look. It is broad day light after all, I’m probably being silly.”

As they start off across the oval, Ethan’s arm comfortably around her waist, Liz looks brighter.

“Maybe we ought to split up. Cover more ground,” Jake suggests. “Q and I can head for the Res, you guys take the path to the parking lot.”

Ethan adds, “Good idea. And we’ll cruise over to check the bus stop too. If she’s not running around in the bush taking pictures, maybe she’s just hiding out in the shelter.”

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