Wild Confines

by Shauna Checkley

Table of Contents parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

part 2

Later in bed that night, Owen wondered at the meeting. She sounds a little sketchy to me. Pretty tight-lipped. Maybe I shouldn’t have let them camp here? Yet he recalled the initial tone of near desperation, the obvious hunger, the little girls with the big, haunted blue eyes. And soon he was glad that he had been of service. Shouldn’t we all try and help one another? He believed as much. It was exactly this trait that his mother loved the most about him. Everyone did, in fact.

Still, he knew that if he confided to his buddy Dan or any of his colleagues at work, they wouldn’t be so approving. Dan would be especially adamant that she leave. What in the hell were you thinking? Owen could hear Dan say in his deep, Barry White bass, “What-in-the-hell?”

Calvin jumped on him. Next Cordelia. They all slept together. He welcomed their company, even if overweight Calvin insisted on walking on him periodically through the night. It filled the bed out, made Owen feel less alone. It made his world feel not so vast and empty. He didn’t feel like one banished, exiled as he sometimes did.

Yet his thoughts had him tossing and turning so much in the bed that the usually unflappable Cordelia padded away.

* * *

Wired on too much caffeine, Paris Jade stared into the darkness. She was aglow with the gifts of food and bounty. Such a nice guy, that Owen. It felt like something right out of the Bible, like I was entertaining an angel. Hahaha. Even though I swore off men forever, the same as dope, Owen is all right. We can just be friends if nothing else... Who knows? There’s always room for a margin of error.

She recalled the hard times before Rob dropped off the strong box full of cash. Twenty thousand dollars. The dark days of sleeping rough, couch-surfing, dumpster-diving, shoplifting, dining and dashing, turning tricks, having her kids seized by Social Services, then having her mom take them in after reporting her repeatedly. It was a shit show for certain. Snow jobs. Blow jobs. Hand jobs. Those were the days, my friend. But it was over now. Thank God.

They were safe from both Grandma and Social Services. They were safe from my excesses too. But what about the damn snakes, the sliding serpents that could slay them in the night? There was that to consider. Should I rent a chainsaw? I could cut up the floorboards and get the damn things before they get us.

Maybe I could call on my two godfathers to help me: Walt Disney, Hugh Hefner. Maybe they would lend a hand? You never know... Those were the days, my friend.

As was so often the case, Paris Jade found herself overthinking. She recalled her classic fall from grace. She had been a normal enough kid. She had even been somewhat of a good student when she wanted to be. Though tiny, she shone in gymnastics, even winning a few out-of-town competitions. Her worst indiscretions had been around the opposite sex. She had a predilection for bad boys. It was her undoing.

Working at The Rib Shack. Meeting Rob. The two falling in love and moving in together. Then the twins. She was content but he was not happy with their paltry paycheques that didn’t even cover bills. So, he began to deal dope on the side. Meth. Opioids. Fentanyl. Anything really. He was strictly all business and adhered to that grand old street aphorism: “Don’t get high on your own supply.”

But with Paris Jade it was a different case. Sitting around bored in their basement apartment one day, Paris Jade wondered what to do. The twins were at her mom’s, being babysat by Grandma. Her girlfriends were busy. The cable had been cut off because Rob had forgotten to pay the bill again. And the magazine that she had grabbed on impulse at the grocery store didn’t interest her, either.

She spied the pills he had been bagging. On the end table by their bed, the stash sat. The little white and yellow and blue tablets that reminded her of the magic beans found in fairy tales. She had always been curious about their potency. Why would people pay their hard-earned money or even rob or kill for them? It seemed incredible to her.

Trying them, she was immediately transported to the hyper regions of self. She felt like she was shedding her skin involuntarily, tripping on the razor’s edge with something new and dangerous emerging. It was as if an inner kamikaze pilot had taken over. Daredevil overdrive. Speeding away. All vestiges of her earlier self and life soon disappeared. Life in the slow lane gave way to the fast lane: die Autobahn. All was go-go-go.

Eventually, Rob put a down payment on an unassuming house and left her. He considered her a liability to his enterprise. He was all about the money. He felt vaguely guilty about the twins, so, he gave her a strong box full of money and admonished her to get clean. They hadn’t heard from him since. He had apparently moved on.

After her kids were taken away, Paris Jade cleaned up enough to get them back. But her mom kept a vigilant eye on the whole situation. Whenever she saw lapses in her daughter’s sobriety, Shauna took her grandbabies in. Then a titanic struggle between Shauna and Paris Jade ensued. Those were the days, my friend...

Finally, after securing custody of the little girls, Paris Jade egged her mom’s house, rented a camper, filled it full of groceries and left town. She parked south of Regina in a random field. She set up camp of sorts. Dipping into the strong box only for gas or groceries, she used her funds sparingly. Gotta save it for a rainy day. Gotta always have some back-up cash.

The next morning, Paris Jade did some self-care. Gazing into the mirror in the camper’s bathroom, she examined her face. At least my skin is clearing up. That’s good. After she went off dope, she had a wicked papular acne for months while her system repaired. As they had told her at Detox, the skin is the body’s biggest excretory organ. It takes time for it to heal.

But what about her teeth? Most were black or had fallen out. She was dismayed by one incisor that looked like a darkened fang. That bugger has to go. There’s no other way.

* * *

Trimming Cordelia’s nails, Owen held the cat. It squirmed, fought. But he persevered.

He had already set upon his weekend chores, expecting to bake banana bread next with some overripe bananas that he had. Then he would make some home-made vanilla. Five vanilla beans in one cup of vodka. All was quiet. The acreage was like a still-life that a naturalist would have drawn.

But then came a banging on his door. Paris Jade. The sunlight on her neon-pink hair made it look even brighter still. She reminded him of the game Candyland he used to play as a kid. On what was formerly the front lawn, the little girls were frolicking in the grass and weeds that stood as high as their heads. It looked to Owen like they were playing tag.

“Heya, Owen, how are you today?”

“Good, and you?”

“Alright. Say you got a pair of pliers?”

“Ya.” He retrieved them from a toolbox in the kitchen closet and handed it to her.

Pointing it at her mouth, she said, “Can’t afford a dentist. So, I might try to pull that bad black one out.”

Owen frowned. “I don’t think I’d do that.”

She shrugged. Laughed.

Watching her attach it to a black incisor that looked almost like a fang, he winced.

He felt the hairs on the nape of his neck stiffen when she tugged on it gamely.

“Guess I’ll just let it be then,” she said, handing the pliers back to him. “See ya later. Come on, girls, let’s go for a walk.” And they left.

With his mouth agape, Owen considered all. That was so not normal. And those are junky teeth! What have I done, bringing her here? No wonder the farmer shooed her away. What’s next? What have I brought on myself?

Fearing that the serpent had entered the garden, he thought he should act. He considered chasing them down and then nicely ordering her off the property, evicting her before squatter’s rights set in. That might be the most prudent thing to do. It is a trickster universe, after all.

But then he remembered the children. She seems like an okay parent. Plus, there isn’t anyone else in the picture. Maybe she’s just coping the best she can. She’s not strung out or anything. Perhaps she’s not using anymore. Maybe I should just give her a break. Or at least mind my own business?

Not wanting to act rashly, he just went about his chores. Making banana bread. Homemade vanilla. Still, he veered between nagging doubt and raw need. He knew that he was comforted by their presence. He had actually sort of enjoyed the coffee with them the night before. It was nice to have other people around, even at arm’s length. Cats weren’t always enough, he had come to discover.

Owen began to think consecutively: “I’ll just keep an eye on them, on the whole situation. That’s all. I don’t want to be the heavy if I don’t need to be. Nor do I want to report her to Child Protection Services and get her in trouble for nothing. If they are low on food or whatever, I can surely help them out. God knows I’ve been blessed enough.”

Settling in the middle, he was content to straddle the fence. He went about his day.

Peering out the ruffled pink curtain, Paris Jade watched. The girls were busy on the table coloring in a Hello Kitty coloring book.

Paris Jade watched as the angel man walked toward her camper. He was carrying a plate or tray or something. Wonder what he’s got this time? She was excited at the prospect. The buns the night before had been delicious. She had begun to genuinely like and trust him. He was kindly after all. He’s alright to chill with, for sure.

Throwing open the door, she beamed her big, crooked smile.

“Wanna sample some of my famous banana bread?” he said.

Paris and the girls squealed.

* * *

(Big Daddy)

Days had become like long, waking dreams. Even though it was early morning there seemed little difference between conscious and unconscious states. All moved seamlessly along.

Outside, the prairies were hushed, the light was weak, thin. It poured through the camper’s windows like shining knives.

Poised above Owen with the coffee pot in hand, Paris Jade stood. Her pink spikes were everywhere; she hadn’t attended to her hair yet this morning. She looked at him for a response. He waved the offer away.

“Gotta get to work now. See you all later.” He drank the last of his black coffee in one decisive gulp and stood up.

They exchanged goodbyes. Emerald hugged his knees. Jewel, the shyer of the pair, waved.

He left the camper. And, from inside it, they could hear his truck start up and drive off, crunching the gravel in the driveway.

Paris Jade knew then that the day belonged to her. It was hers to fill out and occupy the best that she could all the while being alone on the acreage. They could go for walks, explore nature, the bugs, rocks and everything else in the vicinity. They could pick wildflowers. Play. Nap. Shower. Anything to while away the time until Owen returned, and their socializing continued.

They had fallen into a pattern of sorts. Early morning coffee together; that lapse in between when he went to work; then the knock on the door, that cherished sound that signified boredom was over. He would lead them to his place for supper. Crockpots full of stews and soups. Turning the TV on to the cartoon channel that he picked up from his satellite dish. The twins nearly hysterical with pleasure.

Cleaning up the morning dishes, Paris Jade went about her business. She washed coffee mugs, morning cereal bowls. She frowned at the light film of dust which seemingly emerged from nowhere yet settled over everything like a shroud.

But then she found it. The small, pink, plastic Hello Kitty box that had been a McDonalds meal toy. She opened it and looked inside. A piece of gold crayon. Hello Kitty stickers. Several gummy bears. A tiny snatch of coloring that showed a princess wearing a tiara.

“Hey! That’s mine!” Emerald was outraged. Her nostrils flared.

Paris Jade handed it back to her. Emerald snatched it out of her hands and held it behind her back, frowning.

Like a scene from her own childhood, Paris Jade marveled at the stash box she had just uncovered. Keeping all of her prize keepsakes in there, is she? Just like I used to do, too! Those were the days, my friend...

Paris Jade had always been of the opinion that Emerald was like her, and Jewel was more like Rob. But soon she wasn’t so certain.

As she watched Jewel lean over and whisper something into her sister’s ear, Paris Jade stared. Jewel likes to keep secrets, too. She has been whispering a lot lately and not always to me either. Guess I’m not the only gatekeeper in this place. Hahaha. Kids...

Reaching over she rumpled their blonde heads, first one, then the other. Both were clad in matching pink, Hello Kitty pyjamas. They looked at her and smiled in near unison, with that twin symmetry that she always found so very interesting. She found it reassuring somehow when they reacted in tandem like that. But then she found life to be so very fresh and sound these days.

Holing up in the country had been a godsend. I’ve escaped all those wanting to do me harm: Grandma, Social Services, everyone. I’ve given them the slip, alright. Haha. Those are the days, my friend. I’ve even made a new, good friend. Owen. Calvin and Cordelia too. Those crazy cats.

But best of all, it gave her the time to really get to know her girls. They had long, empty days to live out and explore together. Each day rolling into the next until it seemed like it had become one long ribbon of time, never-ending. Sure, things could get monotonous at times, but it was homey, nevertheless.

Before that she had been strung out a lot or caught up in the drama of the system, playing catch up, doing damage control. She parented on the run, mothered through the cracks. It was not ideal for certain. But it was what they had to make do with.

Now, though, they had all the time in the world together. Parked in that grove of trees, living under a green canopy, they could share and experience like never before. All was bliss.

Even the dreaded serpents had quieted down as of late. Could it be they have finally slithered away once and for all? Or are they just coiled and lying dormant, biding their time? She hoped they were gone, although she knew that only time would tell. Whether real or imaginary — she was never one hundred percent certain — they were her nemesis. The ugly, raging fallout from darker, earlier times.

* * *

Proceed to part 3...

Copyright © 2024 by Shauna Checkley