The Tolerance Wars - 18
the bright lights of home
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begin at the beginning—Chapter 1
The Tolerance Wars
18.
the bright lights of home
“I’d say the people were moved.” Waits and I were carrying out the last of our gear, surrounded by late evening cool that had long ago reached the point where moisture in the air becomes dew. We’d been at it for a while but brother was still feeling the groove. “Felt like we gave ‘em somethin’ good.”
“Yeah,” I slugged my amp into the back of the wagon and came over to give him a hand that he didn’t really need but made like he was grateful. “I guess we did.” Together we hefted his bass rig into the hatchback, then he closed the hatch. Carefully. Ruin a good night slamming the window right down on one of those big metal re-enforced corners of the speaker cabinet that you thought were all in there just fine. Makes a huge shower of safety glass. And a particular sound. Neither of us had done it. But we’d both seen it. Separately. Which we understood made it a statistic. That we were both aware of. I didn’t hold my breath. But I did relax a little when I heard the hatch clearly chunk into place. Nice. Then I had a look around.
Full-on dark, with the light from the house I could see as far as the long bend in the driveway. But that was about it. In these parts once you were settled into the season a night might stay like this. Stars all the way home. But we were deep enough into summer that what felt like cool and clear right here might turn into patches of fog out there on the road back to town. I looked up.
No stars.
Waits must’ve noticed too. “Not much to see tonight.” He nodded to the end of the driveway, “Might be a bit patchy out there.” Then he looked back at the house, “Shall we go round up the people and run it together?”
I shrugged. While we all knew better than to take stupid chances, this bunch had found themselves running the leading edge of winter blizzards, dodging green-yellow thunderstorms coming out of nowhere, and driving through winds so strong you could only open one car door at a time for fear of losing a passenger out the other side. So this didn’t look like caravan time. “Maybe not. Let’s go back inside and see what folks think. Anyway, Tony’s in charge tonight.”
“Yeah, I’d noticed things were going well.”
I did not rise to the bait.
Though I did notice what fell out of my mouth when we made it back to the kitchen to find Tony and the rest of the crew. “So, looks like everything’s going well.” It didn’t mean anything.
“Don’t worry, we can make it so you’re in charge next time.” Marcus grinned wide, refusing to give up a good ride. “Though I’ll have to find a different kind of fun than we had tonight.” He looked over as Sparechange finished packing a crate of plates and came over to join us, apparently also done for the night. “Isn’t that right?” There was something going on between the two of them that I didn’t understand.
“Look man, I said I was sorry.” I remembered the last time I’d heard buddy say that and slightly wondered if I should stand out of the way, and which way that might be. But then I remembered the sorry had come after the part that made my head hurt. So I was probably okay. I didn’t always determine my Safety in distance to my friends in this way. Only sometimes. Sparechange was saying, “I had no idea there was so much help available. I didn’t have time to organize it all. So it just happened.”
Marcus looked quietly serious for a moment, “Ride with me tonight, we’ll figure out how we can do this better next time.” Then he set whatever was going on between them aside, and returned to his normal frame of world. He was probably going to say something wonderful, but Tony got to the space first.
“So that was a knife?”
“Yes, friend.” Serious again, Marcus tilted his head slightly and nodded, “There was a knife. And it was dealt with immediately. And safely.”
“Where was security?”
“We weren’t doing security.” Marcus seemed to be dipping back into his thing with Sparechange. Then I saw him set it aside again. “They were probably legitimately busy making sure they didn’t have to fish anybody out of the pond.” He smiled back at Tony and took the rest of the room in with it. Back to size. “However, my people brought their competences to bear…”
“Yeah, I saw your competence.” That was Mcshane, nodding at Sparechange, “Buddy made a move.”
I guess now we were all looking at Sparechange. Who was looking at Marcus. For a full two beats. Then he kinda gradually looked over at me and said, “C’mon man, you’ve seen me in an alley. No big deal. I know my way around, but I don’t mess with the heavy, when the blow lands, just don’t be there, y’know?”
I couldn’t remember my friend doing anything particularly fine in the alley in the past whenever the air got stupid, mostly just staying out of the way of trouble like the rest of us. I guess that’s what Mcshane was saying. Maybe what I’d seen, but hadn’t taken in until he said it just now. I had to agree, “Yeah, that was a move.”
“Mm hmm,” Tony nodded, “sure was.”
“I didn’t catch it,” was Josie, “But when I looked over to the far corner, at what seemed like the end of some kind of scuffle…” She checked around the room. Then, “Something happened.” She checked again. Then, “Anybody else?”
“Mm hmm.” Tony again. Two beats, then, “Sure did.”
Then she was looking at both Sparechange and Marcus, like there was a story to be told and sister aimed to hear it. Presently. For now Tony just inclined her head toward Marcus in the same way he’d done earlier, “Grateful for your competences,” and nodded, “as always.”
I looked over at Archer. She had her I’m doing science face firmly in place. Which might indicate the presence of physics. Although I guess I was also hoping it meant someone might have a clue what was going on. Sure wasn’t me. Again. Clearly drunken people have often called me insightful. When I have clearly just as drunkenly responded with, “Oh, no. No, I’m not.” it’s moments like this I’m thinking of. I am clearly. Not. Insightful.
“So…” Josie.
“We are going to have a conversation.” That was Archer. The tone of the room shifted.
Marcus was keenly focused, and cheerful business. “Away from here.”
“About everything.”
Marcus appeared to take in some kind of meaning from what she said. Tiniest of eyebrow and a twitch. i didn’t always notice, but something about having just played a night of music. Maybe the same set of chops. Though sometimes, also like now, I could be thick with understandings, lost in the forest of all the clues. Following perfectly. Except then I wasn’t, Marcus was talking again.
“Absolutely.”
“Tomorrow?”
He didn’t exactly wince, but Marcus came back immediately with, “The club’s closed Monday, give me the morning to hose the place down from the weekend ’til it’s presentable. Or until the water runs out. Meet there, call it two?”
The scientist nodded twice. Then looked over at the singer.
“Oh, I’ll be there.” Tony chucked it over to Sparechange, “I wanna learn to move like that.”
“Don’t be stupid.” I could tell he was winding up for a massive re-direct. But sister was having none of it.
“I do not want to hear it.” She looked over at me, for some reason, and said, “Apparently I’m in charge tonight. Alright then.” She waved toward the guitar player, “Mcshane you’re taking me home,” then she waved one more time, “To myplace.” She waved again, “and then you’re going home.” Another wave, “To yourplace.” Then she ran out of waves, “or wherever it is guitar players go when they’re not on stage.” Mcshane looked like he was making to explain where that was, she got there first, “don’t spoil it for me.” Then she tossed me the keys to the wagon. “This means you’re in charge.” I didn’t know what to say about that. She didn’t give me the chance. “Tomorrow is a day off. Don’t mess it up.” I didn’t know what to say about that either. “That goes for everybody,” she said, but she was still looking at me. In a way I was clearly supposed to understand. I tried to look like I was telling her I didn’t understand. Which she took as some kind of confirmation. Clearly my after-gig period of clarity was now over.
We made our way to the front door and said good night to Marcus and Sparechange, who were going to lock us out and leave by the servants’ entrance. As a matter of principle. When the rest of us got to our cars Tony passed out the cash from the gig. In envelopes. Okay, some things were better when she was in charge. “As well as what we agreed, there’s a bonus in there. Another grand. Split five ways. Not much, but I think our friend was feeling a bit guilty. Or something. I’ll take it.” She looked over at me again. This time I knew the look. It said, ‘you have no idea, and that’s okay, because now you’re going home’. And she was right.
It wasn’t until Archer and I were in the wagon and I’d adjusted the mirrors and reset the big bench seat, because my legs’re shorter than Tony’s, that I remembered Waits and I had wondered about fog. And we hadn’t said anything to anyone. Oh well, these were not unseasoned professionals. Being a musician meant driving. Often to gigs that you’d measure in hours apart. They’d all sense the wind, sniff the air, and drive accordingly.
Or not. It was only a few miles back to town.
Though as I pulled the wagon along the curve of the driveway, out to the laneway then finally onto the paved concession, I was thinking about some of the lower lines we’d had to take to get here tonight. Well, at the worst, patches of fog.
I was certain we’d turned right to get in here. I was also aware my friend had been doing some heavy thinking, for awhile. I found myself wondering what she thought a day off might look like. Then I turned right. We were both quiet for a while. My friend was apparently still thinking deeply, about conversations, and probably physics. As I felt the road go down a gentle but persistent incline and finally drop into a long stand of cedar that seemed to be ready to run for a while, I began thinking deeply. About whether we’d seen this stretch of cedar on the way in. And maybe it might’ve been better if I’d turned the other way. If asked, I’d say I have a perfectly fine sense of direction. Just sometimes I misplace it.
Cedar loves water. And this road was cut through a big stand of cedar, that was sitting on white limestone. Which also loves water. Sure enough, now in the side-spill of our yellow headlights you could begin to see suggestions of rising damp along both edges of the road. And we were still tending slightly downward, so patches of mist were starting to obscure our sense of the trees that continued either side of us. At least the roads around here were mostly straight, if a little narrow in places. Too narrow to be able to turn around safely. Straight enough to give you an idea where you were likely going to end up if you kept going in this direction. Unlike my life.
And now we were definitely in fog. Couldn’t see the far edge of it, no idea how soon we’d be out of it. Nothing for it but to keep moving forward. Like my life. I decided to concentrate on knowing where each side of the road was. The fog would lift soon enough.
My friend spoke first, “It’s been coming all night.” Apparently she’d been paying attention. As usual.
“We might be in it for a bit. Should clear again when we get out of this dip.” Neither of us sounded worried. Better roads were coming. Let’s just get there.
We saw a flash of headlights for a moment. Curving towards us. Which seemed strange, I didn’t remember a bend in the road around here. Much less any turn that would make their lights swing round like that.
Now they were definitely heading in our direction. With their highbeams on. Yeah, that’s not gonna help anything. I noticed the road was getting narrower. Not much more than a single lane in some places. I considered moving over to the side of the road to let them pass. But when I could actually see the side of the road there wasn’t anywhere you could stop. Everything was trees and rocks. Then fog again.
I flashed my headlights to let them know I was there, no response, and tried to keep mostly to my side of where I imagined there was a driving surface. Still they kept coming. I definitely had nowhere to pull over. Stopping in the middle of the road would be worse. I’d rolled my windows down a while back, hoping I could maybe get a clue to the terrain from the sound of whatever we were passing through. So now I could hear their engine. Not just getting closer.
Speeding up.
“Oh man.” I leaned on the wheel, slightly to the right again. And heard one set of tires scuff something that wasn’t anything you should drive on. I brought us out of it gently. Just in time to see headlights coming full at us. And the sound of them still speeding up. “This has gone way beyond stupid.” Seemed like a good time to make a decision. “Hang on,” I said to no one in particular.
I moved us slightly to the right again. A couple of feet of shoulder started to appear where there had been none a few seconds ago. It would have to do. I leaned into the wheel just a little bit more. And heard the right wheels change their sound, felt the steering change. We were now driving left and right on two different surfaces. No sudden moves. They were pretty much on top of us. Just keep it steady.
I saw them jerk to the left. Harder than I would’ve done. And drift halfway onto a full shoulder that came out of nowhere on their side of the road. Still coming at us. Still full highbeams. I inched us over to the right just that little bit more. Waiting to hit something that would cause trouble, any decent sized rock, or a tree root. This was not how I wanted my night to end.
And suddenly they were sailing past. Like when you’re travelling on ice, I had my eyes fully ahead on where I was trying to steer to, but it seemed like only inches between the two vehicles. All I heard from my friend was a small intake of breath.
And “Asshole!” from the pickup as they breezed by. I think it was a pickup. I know that’s what I heard.
Honestly I’d just been thinking pretty much the same thing myself.
I steered us back to a safer part of the road. And checked ahead for any more lights. Nothing. And now we were going up a gentle hill, pulling ourselves out of the fog as we went, until finally we made the top and could see. “Stars.” Of course.
“You did say it would clear.”
“You okay?”
I saw she nodded, now that I could spare enough attention to look over for a quick check-in. Then, “I found myself wondering if that was meant for either of us. Or just random.”
The thought had also occurred to me. Though I said, “I had heard there are spots outside of town where some folks love to play chicken.” I tried not to project any more being-in-charge than I actually felt. This was supposed to be a day off. “Maybe we just stumbled into a game. Not meant for us.” Which, come to think of it, kind of summed up much of the evening. For me anyways.
“Just as likely as anything else. No convincing data, hypothesis only.” I wondered if that was her I’m tired of doing science face. Though I didn’t say so.
I slowed us to a stop at the top of the hill so we could get our bearings. From here I could see three sizeable pools of light, sitting in three different directions. The largest one, off to the west, marked the biggest city in this part of the province. That’d be roughly the opposite direction of where we wanted to go. Given that, to the south was another pool of light, least of the three, which would be from the smaller town in the area, right on the 401, and also at the northern end of the road that led south and eventually ended up at the steeltown on the lake. Which would mean that the the glow roughly off to our left, also small but clearest, would be the bright lights of home. We’d ended up a little further southwest than we’d intended, and gone a few miles out of our way, but not far enough that we didn’t have lights to steer by. If we kept moving headed in our current direction, and took the next available line to the left, we’d end up getting back home. Just coming at it from the west, instead of the north that I’d figured on. No big deal.
Only took us about fifteen minutes. At each intersection of line and concession I checked the big lights again, then headed in whichever direction seemed to make the most sense. Neither of us said a word. At first we were probably just allowing the adrenaline rush to calm down after nearly being run off the road. Then presumably we were both letting the rest of the events of the night settle in and make some kind of sense. Or at least as much as possible.
Finally I turned onto the last county road and could see stoplights ahead of us. That would be highway 3. A left there and we were a couple of minutes from town. Felt like a celebration of sorts. “Almost there.”
“I’m glad that was you navigating. I would’ve been heading in the opposite direction more than once.” It didn’t seem all that special to me. I explained about the cities and towns making a glow that you could see in the dark sky. Bright enough to be able to navigate by. Although by that point in the conversation we were in the middle of so many streetlights, and fully lit parking lots, and empty buildings with most of the lights left on, that what I’d said about navigating sounded to my ear like some dryland boy’s seafaring fantasy. Which maybe it was. Still, it got us home. Counts for something.
I hadn’t asked, but I headed us straight for her place. Not far from the centre of town. Twenty minute walk along the river and up the hill to the university. Granny flat, with a side entrance. I pulled us up along the sidewalk in front and cut the keys. We’d been quiet again for a while. figured I’d ask.
“You be alright?”
“Yeah," as she looked up, through the windshield. Then at me, and, "maybe I might." Then back through the windshield.
I took that for a good thing. “You have some figuring to do between now and Monday." A peculiar smile brushed across her face for a moment, and I thought maybe a sense that she was, pleased. “So I’m assuming I’m dropping you off. So you can..."
She took a quick breath and interrupted. “I don't know where this goes." Still looking out the window, she got a look on her face that had nothing to do with science. “But maybe if there's an after..."
I thought about what that might mean. What any of that might mean. Then, for no reason that I understood, “Maybe there's only a during." I wondered if that was the right word. What would that be, a continuum?
Some part of what I said must've made some kind of sense. Through the windshield she looked up. Where there should've been stars. Took in a breath. And nodded slightly. Then, quietly, “You might be right." I waited, to see where she wanted to take the thought. There was no specific moment. But another smile. Almost the same as the one that'd brushed her face just before now. Then she looked over at me, slightly sideways, same smile. “You around tomorrow?"
“Tomorrow is officially a day off. Which co-incidentally happens when I am in charge more days than everyone thinks I’ve noticed. Means my time is my own. I am in fact around. You?"
She looked down beside me, as if she was going over her thoughts. “I don't have to review data. I think I’ve got my head on straight. Maybe just now." She looked up at me. As if she was trying to see me. I wondered what she saw. Then, “I just have to screw up my courage."
“Does that usually take long?"
“I don't know. I’ve never done it."
I wasn't sure what to say to that. Then I could see a thought occurred to her, ”How 'bout you? You alright?"
There was a question I could mostly answer. “I am."
“You need to walk around?"
“Sister, when I get the boat parked, I am hauling my amp inside the door, the guitar gets put at the top of the stairs, and the rest of me is going straight to bed. I have exactly enough energy for that. Then no more for this boy. Between working the tunes and avoiding the lunatics, there are parts of my brain that need serious down time." I lay down a stretch of maybes, and came up with a thought. “Tomorrow would be a fine thing. Myplace to watch the parade might be a little early. Maybe hit the club for brunch. Or pass on the crowds and meet for a walk after?"
“Walk. Think I’ve had enough people for just now." I put the tips of my fingers to my chest in the classic ‘am I not people?’ pose. ”Okay, some people." Which got a hint of a smile again. Like maybe having a day off was maybe possible.
I leaned over for a hug. Seemed like mostly what she needed. Me, too. mostly.
I don't mind being people, I thought.
Good people.
I waited until she was inside the door of her flat, then started the engine and made the drive home. Parking spot close by for once. Amp stashed, guitar at the top of the stairs, I was heading for bed when the phone rang. I took it in the kitchen, picked up the receiver, looked at the earpiece for a second as if I could see down the line to tell who it was. Nothing. Alright then, “Hello?”
“It’s gone.”
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