Corana

Corana 

Corana Prologue                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   “Officials confirmed today that there have been another series of disappearances of indigents, street people and drug users around the world. This brings the total number of confirmed disappearances to over 27.  And many believe there maybe hundreds gone.  No one knows if this the work of an organized group of serial killers or even alien abduction….”  The TV blared in the background with no one really watching it. 

“Hey Dad, it looks like I left NASA at the right time.  Now they are blaming the disappearances on Aliens.  I said yelling at the kitchen from the living room trying to make conversation. 

“Well its good riddance to bad rubbish no matter who is behind it.” My Dad   said in his usual grumpy way. 

“You don’t really mean that do you?”  I asked hoping he was just spouting off. 

“No, I suppose not,” he said grumpily. 

“Its happening all over the world and so far, they are only taking the people that no one else seems to want like the homeless, addicts, and boat owners,” I added just to make sure he was listening. 

After a long pause my father replied, “They are not taking boat owners!” 

“Yeah I just wanted to see if you were listening.” 

“Well so far they are only taking people from the city.  I doubt they are gonna start harvesting victims in the Rideau lakes.”  My father said.  “Besides if it was Aliens they’d be more likely to take you than me.  All those years of university down the drain and now you’re just a nurse to an old man and running a third-rate summer time marina.”  My father said reminding me that my principles don’t put eggs on the table. 

“Oh, come on, we are second rate at least.” 

“Perhaps…. listen…” 

The TV managed to interject with a man on the street interview, “Well I seen it dint I?  It was bigger than a small plane and inside you could see men with motorbike helmets dragging people in.  Behind them was a ‘ottie in a green dress that kept blowing up to show us she had no nickers.”  The cockney man said with no sound of credibility at all. 

“When they turned and looked at me well I got outta there dint I.  I ran screaming for some one to let me in and finally me old Mum opened the door, so the Aliens dint get me.” 

A scratchy voiced woman asked if he had been drinking.  

“Jus 4 pints.” the man replied 

“Well there you have it,” the news anchor replied sarcastically, “positive proof that these disappearances are in fact alien abductions.”  The woman glared at the camera. 

“But I knows wha I saw…” Said the man quietly. and the picture switched to current weather. 

At that I turned away from the TV and allowed it to become background noise again. 

“What do you think?”  I asked thinking there may be more to the story while looking at my dad.  He was a shadow of himself and did not look well at all.  He was gaunt and even his face was thin.  Somehow you know in your head things aren’t good, but you just don’t want to believe it. 

“I think if you can’t trust a drunken cockney…well who can you trust?”  My dad said and we both laughed.  “Let’s go get a steak and forget all this nonsense.”  He said, and I completely agreed. 

My Dad’s favourite steak place was in Smith’s Falls, so we had to take the ‘speed boat’ as he liked to call it.  It was a lovingly restored Glastron CV19 from the early 80s with a huge 455/500 engine and just enough speed to get us to Smith’s on the Rideau River at a decent time as we were coming from a spot just south of Murphy’s park on Big Rideau lake.  65 miles per hour is very fast on the water but we loved it; and we soaked in the sun and spray and all thoughts of kidnappings, my Dad’s frailty and the sinking feeling like everything was going to change soon, just disappeared into the clear water below. 

As I looked to the back of the boat to share a smile, I saw my Dad crumpled on the floor coughing up blood.  I had seen him deteriorate since I returned home but I guess I was in denial.  He had always been so strong, raising me and my sister by himself since I was 10.  He loved my mother and after she disappeared, he never stopped hoping he would see her alive just once more.  That was not going to happen now.   

I pulled the boat over and called an ambulance on my cell.  We both rode in the ambulance with one of us worried he had more to do and the other worried we had run out of time. 

Page Break 

Chapter One  

Good Byes and Yesterdays 

His eyes were glassy, thick with tears that would never come.  He held out his hand to me and for the first time in my life I was afraid to take it.  I knew it would be for the last time.    He grabbed my hand hard and held it there for a second until I could feel his remaining strength.  The tube in his neck that prevented him from talking coughed a mucous filled snort and trickles of blood trailed out of his trachea.  Time was so short now.  He motioned for the children’s toy pad he used to write with.  I picked it up and lifted the plastic sheet to give him a clean surface to write on.   His snarl and that look of “you idiot” he always had when he was teasing me about some dumb mistake I made, told me I goofed again.  He wanted me to read what he had written.  He grabbed the stylus and began to write with his shaky hand. 

            “You’ve always been smarter than the rest. But you made a mistake leaving that girl behind.  You left the space program for the right reasons… but now you have to use that brain…..” 

His hand stopped but I knew what he was trying to say so I finished it out loud for him, “for more than fixing outboard motors and fishing”.  He nodded, smiled and winced from the pain and more blood trickled from his neck.  He and I had never spoken about me leaving the propulsion lab.  I just figured he would not understand but evidently my sister had been providing more than just her nursing skills. 

            It flashed back in my mind.   

We were in a large conference room… too large for the few people in it.  There were three American military men fully decked out in uniform complete with medals like they were supposed to mean something to me. They all had grey hair but were otherwise in great shape.  They kind of looked like triplets and I almost laughed at them for their rigid demeanour.  My boss, Tom Arnold (no relation to the actor), was head of the lab and a person who had gone out of his way to make me comfortable in my stay in Florida.  He was heavy set and balding…looking far more worried than any multi millionaire should ever look. 

 In the middle of the room seated at the middle of the table with her white blouse too far open to be considered professional was a petite lovely young woman with weepy eyes that when you looked closely at them, sparkled between blue and sometimes green, my propulsion engine project team-leader. She and I had an often too flirty relationship and I had come to regard her as a close friend.    

I would have been pining for more under different circumstances, but she was just fresh out of school and I had been working on the space program for almost her entire life.  Well, that and she was kind of out of my league. When she smiled, she was breathtakingly stunning, and I was well… unarmed.  I assumed she was there for my benefit…to make me feel like I wasn’t being persecuted.  The uniformed men all sat rigid and left the arguments to my boss.   

      “Look Davis we have no choice…they…” pointing at the military boys, “…supply the money for this project…” my boss’ round face turned purple as he argued a point that he knew I would never accept. 

            “They are my designs and I will not have them used for weapons of destruction … mass or otherwise,” I argued back. 

            “These men here represent the US government and they have paid for the development of your designs,” my boss yelled back. 

            “I am Canadian, so I don’t give a crap if the President of your country is here, they are my designs and I will not have them used for any other purpose other than what you agreed to, which was to send people to Mars faster than any of your people ever thought was possible before.” I was fuming. 

            “And your design will be used to go to Mars, but we can’t do that without money,” my bosses colour came back, and he calmed down.  “We give these guys what they want, and they give us money to complete our project,” he said calmly. 

            “I can’t be part of killing people, Tom”.  “Please,” I pleaded. “Don’t let them do this.” 

            “It’s done, you can’t do anything about it Davis except finish the project and help us use it for what it you intended it for,” the lovely young woman… the woman I thought was my friend… interjected blind-siding me with her support for the military application of the design she helped me work on.  It hit me like a knife and I could barely think. 

            My boss spoke to her like I was invisible now.  “So, Ms. Larson do you feel that you and your team can finish the project without Dr. Davis here?” 

            “It will be harder, but yeah I think we can….” 

            The rest of what Larson said faded in to pain.  She turned on me and stabbed me in the back and in the heart, all at the same time.  I thought she and I had a connection…an understanding…something.  

            We had fun working together.  We laughed all the time and Larson was one of those people who produced tears when she laughed hard enough, so I tried to out do myself each day.  She was playful and fun taking my jokes, which might have sent most people screaming to the sexual harassment office, as if they were something new.   

When we hung out after work we both remarked about how neither of us had that much fun before… taunting and teasing until we had to leave as we both had separate ways to go.  At one point, she asked one of those cryptic questions about my feelings, whatever they are, and I just reminded her that, as my father always said, “Never ask a question you don’t want an answer to.”  I was a scientist, not a Hallmark Card.  I couldn’t have feelings.  Just because my serotonin levels were out of whack when I was around her didn’t mean I … 

“I mean I know that you know how I feel and down deep I think I know better than even you how you feel; if either of us felt anything, which of course we do not.”  She laughed at my pretended rejection of human emotions. “So, I know that you know…you know? Like every human being that craves socialization into a harmonious pair bond, I want to hear it, just once, but it changes everything, and it changes nothing.”  As cryptic and confusing as it was, we both understood, and we never spoke of our “feelings” again. 

            My separate way, as I called my girlfriend, crashed and burned…seems I was having too much fun with a co-worker.  She left me, and I hardly even noticed because I couldn’t wait to get back to work and see Larson.  To try and figure it out, I called my Dad and I told him all about her and he said if he didn’t know better he’d say, I had surrendered to the ‘human pair bonding ritual’ referring to something I wrote as a kid about how love didn’t exist.   

            It doesn’t … I was right.  I never spoke to Larson again.  Even thinking her name causes me to relive a betrayal and the feeling of stupidity… how could I think she felt something for me?  How could I have been so wrong?  

            I left Florida that night hoping to never think of those people again.  I flew back to Canada, rented a car and drove to the small town of Portland on Big Rideau Lake near Ottawa and started working at my Dad’s small marina. It had 15 or 20 small motorboats and a few sailboats all tied to floating docks that seemed to spring from the heavy evergreen trees that almost obscured the small marine garage where I fixed small engines.  There was an office and through the trees you could see the aging house behind it. I had a bit of money saved up and I wasn’t in any hurry to see my inventions used to slaughter innocent people again.  So, I fixed boats and motors at my father’s marina 

            Boats are simple, and boaters can be trusted.   

A few weeks after I got home I caught my Dad coughing up blood and was having trouble speaking.  Despite his reluctance, I took him to the hospital.  The Doctors kept telling him there was nothing wrong with him and sending him home until one night after a long boat ride he was spewing blood from his mouth in the back of the boat. I called an ambulance and this time he was taken seriously.  This, the last Doctor he would get, did an exploratory surgery on his neck.   

Throat cancer! 

I never got to hear my dad’s voice again; they left a trachea tube in his voice box and told me he had a few weeks to live.  They asked me if I wanted to tell him or if they should.  I said I would tell him…it would be better coming from me.  I wanted to run away…even the lab was better than this, but I had to do it.   

            “Hey Dad,” he turned to me and smiled, “the news is not good, you have oesophageal cancer and the time is very short.”  I felt the bubbling of emotion and I nearly died myself when he wrote down on a piece of paper, 

            “Any hope at all?” 

 I just shook my head.  He waved good bye ironically with a forced smile and wrote,  

            “Here till I die?”   

Meaning did he have to stay in the hospital until the end? 

            “No… no you’re not,” and I picked up my cell and called my sister and asked if she could get away for a while.  

They had always had a strained relationship, so I figured she would be less than eager to look after him now. Nevertheless, she agreed to come out to the house and stay until the end.  The hospital and everyone said we couldn’t take him home, but we insisted and spent the next 6 weeks tending to his every need……. 

  

I had never believed in euthanasia but when my sister the nurse said my Dad, my friend…my strength, was going to haemorrhage to death and drown in his own blood; my beliefs were shot to hell. 

            “Its time” is all she said.  But it sounded like a warden getting the final word that there was no reprieve and the execution would proceed.  She would give him enough Morphine that he might not know anything at all until his heart stopped. 

            “Wait!” is all I could say. 

            “Rob, would you really want him to die by drowning in his own blood?   We agreed to this a long time ago when we said we would take him home to be with us…until his last day… today.  Please let him have his dignity.”  

            Even 6 weeks later it was still strange to hear someone call me by my first name. My sister, Joan, was less than subtle but I had to tell him one more thing…or maybe I was trying to buy him time.  Even I didn’t know.  Dad looked at me and then motioned to Joan to proceed.  The tears I had not shed during the 10 weeks of 24-hour-a-day chronic care, boosting his oxygen levels, feeding him through a stomach tube, cleaning his trachea and keeping his spirits up, suddenly started to spill out.   

            I was never what you would call emotional.  These might be the first tears I had shed since I was 5 but my emotions were leaking like they had spilled over my control line and I was powerless to suppress them.   

            I wanted to explain about what all happened with the girl, my life, but there was no time for that now.  He grabbed my hand and shook it like he was saying goodbye to an acquaintance and then let me go.   Joan was crying now, and her hands shook so badly that I had to help her give him the injection.  No matter how I felt, this is what he wanted, and I did not have the right to deny him that.   I could see his instant reaction of relaxation after the injection and we shut off the oxygen and waited.  There was a deafening silence as we listened to hear each breath and wondered if it was his last. 

Joan wanted to distract me from discussing what we just did, and I was relived to talk about anything else no matter how painful it was.  “So, tell me about this girl Dad was talking about,” she asked.  We both spoke quietly so as literally not to wake the dead to a pain and a scene neither of us could comprehend. 

“Did you ever meet someone you had an instant rapport with?” I asked.   

“Yeah, I guess so,” is all she offered like she wasn’t really interested. 

“Well Larson and I had in instant but odd connection.  Differences in time and age meant nothing as I teased her relentlessly about her poor choice of words and hillbilly expressions.   We didn’t talk that much face to face; most of our conversations were over the company chat line.  I was glad of that.  She had a smile that could disarm a battalion.  Her eyes sparkled between hues of blue and green as they filled with mischief and playfulness.  She would innocently ask something like ‘how much thrust does this thing have?’  And I would respond, ‘how much thrusting do you need?’  She laughed easily without concern over the rights and wrongs of conversations between co-workers.  It was like I could never go too far, and I could turn everything into a joke.  For the first time in my life I was having what other people might call fun.  She seemed to love it and teased me back as often as she could.  I couldn’t wait to go to work just to hear what she was going to say next.”    

“You may recall, I had a girlfriend, Tanya, who hated my guts but so long as Larson was around, I didn’t even care about that.”  By the look on Joan’s face I guess she didn’t know about Tanya either.  It really had been a long time since we talked. “Tanya had accepted my lack of profound emotion and scientific rationalizations but seeing me give those emotions, which I claimed I didn’t have, so freely to someone else was too much for her. Eventually she left me, and I don’t even recall if she said goodbye.  Larson was all I cared about and even the thrust mechanisms of the propulsion unit were a backdrop to my feelings for her.  A cheap excuse to spend time discovering who I really was for the first time.”  

“So, you were in love with her then,” Joan said simply trying to boil the conversation down to nothing. 

“No, of course not!  I just got used to her and how she made me feel.  Its normal to long for things you can’t have, isn’t it?” I asked rhetorically.  I understand the affect her youthful exuberance can have on someone like me trying to recapture his youth.  Her rampant pheromones caused stimulation to my neurons and the effect of which was euphoric.  Obviously, it was one sided and “the feelings” if you want to call them that will fade.  Like a million other men I just got it wrong.” I said it more to convince myself that Joan. 

“So, if she walked through that door and pledged her undying love?”  Joan was teasing now. 

“I would know that she was lying.  She loved her boyfriend.  She loved her work and she loved my designs.  I guess I just misunderstood; she loved what was in my mind.  I just let my fired-up testosterone levels from her too-low-cut shirts and captivating delicate features dominate my thinking.  It happens.  I just wish it would never have happened to me.  She did rescue me from Tanya though, so I guess I could thank her for that.  But love? No, more obsession than love.  I think the best way to describe it is an addiction to a drug you can never get enough of until it kills you.”  I declared to my own pain and simultaneous satisfaction. 

Joan wasn’t buying it.  “Get over it Rob.  You were in love with her.  Obsession is selfish, and I don’t think you are a selfish person.  I think emotionally you are a 38-year-old three-year-old who couldn’t admit to love because it made him vulnerable.  She had you and you hated her power over you, so you bolted.”  Joan didn’t pull any punches. 

“Haven’t you been listening?  She betrayed me!”  I said too loud. 

“Did you get an explanation?  Did you ask her why?  Did you even tell her you had feelings for her?  No, No and No,” Joan answered her own rhetorical questions.  Maybe she did all that to force you to get angry and admit your feelings.  But you ran away.  So, little brother…you blew it!”   

Joan was fierce in her condemnation and I wondered what happened to her to make her feel that way.  But more I had to ask myself if there was a chance that she was right?  All this time it had been easy to blame Larson and pretend I was running away for my own honour but now I was wondering if I wasn’t trying to hide from my own feelings.  I hated Joan for this, but I loved her for telling me.   

There was a long silence and then Joan opened up.  “I was in love once.  That is how I know how Larson feels.  This girl was tall, blond an amazing body…most guys would have killed for a minute with her, but she was a dyke like me……What?”  Joan asked as my mouth dropped in shock.  

I had no idea.   

“You knew I was Lesbian, right?”   

I just shook my head 

“Oh, my god Rob, you even walked in on me and my girlfriends when you were a kid.  Didn’t you think it was odd I was kissing them?  Let alone the fact I am in my 40s, don’t have kids and you’ve never seen me with a man.  You can’t be that dense!”  Joan said laughing at me 

I felt retarded.  I did see them kissing and touching each other but I just thought she was playing around practising for a boy.  “I honestly had no idea.  I just thought you were career driven.”  We both laughed at how stupid I had been then the reality of us laughing with our Dad dying beside us brought us back to a quick sombre reality. 

“Anyway,” Joan continued, “She was gorgeous, and everybody wanted her.  She was so far out of my league that I didn’t even think to take a shot.  But she started flirting with me, a lingering hand on the shoulder, a poke in the side even a slap on the bum as I walked away.  It was clear she wanted to go slumming and I was her slum-lord.  I was drawn to her but so was everybody so even then I didn’t pay much attention.  I just figured she wanted to play around.  Once when she dropped by my office, she ran right up and kissed me on the cheek and I think she was turning to my lips when I laughed.  I mean this gorgeous girl could never want me, right?”  Joan asked rhetorically. 

I wanted to intervene with some brotherly input, but she waved me on like the queen passing in her car. 

Joan was crying as she continued, “She must have taken my laugh as a rejection because she stopped being as flirty.  Then one day she came in to the office looking very serious and shut the door.  She got a job offer in Toronto and was asking me if she should take it. After she explained the offer to me I told her it was too good to pass up.  She left my office looking rejected.  All I really wanted to tell her was, ‘I want you to stay here with me,’ but I thought that was too selfish.  She gave her notice and the next two weeks were about her leaving and I feigned excitement for her.  The reality was it was killing me inside ‘cause I would always wonder if that kiss had turned into something real, if she would have stayed.  On her last day, I kissed her on her cheek again but I closed my eyes, so she couldn’t see the pain.  We chatted forever and then she drove away.  I have never stopped thinking about her.  I wish I had betrayed her like Larson did to you to try and get her to admit something or told her how I felt at least.  She was raped and murdered 24 days after she got to Toronto.  That playful personality, the beautiful face and body, destroyed by a maniac.  I told her in email how much I missed her, but I never told her the rest and now I never will.” 

The silence continued for a long time as both thought of what Joan said.  I want to run to the phone and tell Larson that I was in love with her but there was still too much hurt there. 

3. And Time Passes Away 

It was hours before his breathing stopped and Dad was gone.  I had never felt so alone and yet for the first time in my life I was never surer there was an eternal truth to existence.  This can’t be it.  There must be more to this universe than the random particles of matter that somehow coalesced into becoming cognisant beings.  At that moment, despite my scientific teachings and empirical sense of truth, I needed to believe there was a god and somehow my father was as special to Him as he had been to me. 

Joan and I had never really been close as children.  She was older and almost out of the house by the time I was 10.  Nevertheless, we held each other like the closest of siblings.  We were orphans now and no matter how we felt about one another, we were the only real family either of us really had.  Our mother disappeared when I was 10.  Most people think she drowned in the lake and the body just never surfaced.  The police and the military searched for days and days and gradually any faint hope we had that she might come barging through the door dissipated over the years.  My father never gave up hoping and really never went on with his life because, “Helen might come home and find no one here, how would we explain that?” 

She never did nor would she ever.  It took me a while to accept it …years really.  Joanie on the other hand some how knew Mom was gone forever the minute I called her that night.  She sensed something was wrong before I even called.   

I was trapped in hope and I hated Joan for not hoping.  Each Christmas I would set a place for Mom, but Joanie would always clear it away and tell me to “grow up…she’s gone… get over it!”  I knew but I didn’t want to know.  It’s like when a relationship breaks up and you sit by the phone, wondering why they don’t call.  You know its over and they are not going to and yet…you cling to the hope until time eventually reminds you it’s really over. 

I called the extra mural hospital Doctor, the police and funeral director.  The police arrived first and waited for the on-call Doctor to say there was no foul play.  To be truthful I had forgotten that what we did might have been considered a crime.  When the Doctor came she simply said it was good that we got a healthy dose of morphine into him when we did as his lungs were filled with blood, and his death might have been much more violent had we not been so ‘on the ball’.  There wasn’t even a wink in the sound of her voice.  Joan was relieved as that might have been the end of her nursing career.  But the Doctor and the police were satisfied. 

When the mortuary came to take the body, it was much more traumatic than I thought it would be.  He was dead, and they were waltzing off with a cadaver and yet it felt so real when they put him in the body bag, threw him on a stretcher and wheeled him away.   For the first time, I realised he was leaving the house and never coming back. 

It was a quiet and dignified service and I think most of the people there didn’t even know who he was.  We had him cremated and even though it’s against the law, mysteriously his ashes fell out of my motorboat in the middle of the lake.  He’s always said that is where he wanted to be, just in case Mom was waiting there for him.  Then Joanie and I hit the throttle and drove one end of the lake to the other and back again at over 70 miles per hour.  It’s a fast boat.  Next to the old wooden 26 foot Grew Cabin Cruiser, it was Dad’s favourite and I could see why.  The beauty of going that speed is there will be tears on your face anyway and the water bounces up and washes them away. 

Having driven back and forth between lower Rideau and Big Rideau so many times I couldn’t count, night had fallen, and I didn’t even notice.  It was the first time I had looked up at he stars since I came back.  It was a clear night and you could see each one glowing in the black night sky.  There was a slight wind and the boat rose gently in the water and lowered with a slight splash.  I cut the engine and through out the anchor.  It caught nicely, and I just looked up. 

Joan looked up too and said, “So this is your office?” 

“Well it was.  Now every damn star reminds me of missiles with my name on them and rockets that will never break 30,000 and….” 

“Larson!” Joan fished my sentence for me. 

“Yeah.  I can’t fight it Joanie why can’t I just move on?”  I asked not really expecting an answer. 

“No one ever does Rob.  But believe it or not it does get easier…after a long time.  Not to change the subject but what is happening in the stars?  I keep seeing flashes and then what looks like satellites moving through the sky.” Joan was curious 

“I see it too and frankly I have no idea.  It looks like the flashing of engine fire on some of the satellites, but we would never be able to see that from here.  Ah well whatever it is…. maybe its some nukes with cool new engines ready to rain down on us.  Now that would be a thrill.” I said only mildly sarcastically.  Truth is I wish that was exactly what the phenomenon was.  I would never commit suicide but right now I yearned for death. 

“Joan reminded me, “You would never be that lucky.” 

We spent the next few hours watching the light show and then went back to port and drank Southern Comfort in the kitchen of the house and talked about lost love until the dawn broke through the window and told us to go sleep it off.  “To Dad,” we both toasted over and over again until we were both toasted.  At some point in the night the lack of sleep and the alcohol made us both giddy and Joan randomly confessed, “You want to know something?” 

“Sure,” I said half crying and laughing wondering what she was going to say next. 

“I’ve never slept with a man,” Joan said completely at random.  “I mean I am a lesbian, so I guess I am not a virgin cause I have slept with girls.  I’ve slept with a lot of girls, but I have never slept with a man.” Joan confessed while taking a huge gulp of Southern. 

“You know what?” I asked half laughing. 

“What?” Joan asked after a long drunken pause waiting for the punch-line. 

“I’ve never slept with a man either…” and we both laughed so hard we fell on the floor.  After a long time of looking at each other and starting to laugh hysterically again.  “But…but I can go you one better, “I said still laughing.  “Not only have I never been in love, which you knew already…. I mean I have had lots of unrequited crushes which I guess you could call love, albeit a bit one sided…” I was randomly going all over the place and I couldn’t even remember what I was saying.  “What was I saying?” 

“You said you had never been in love or that you had been in love, but it was one sided,” Joan offered amazingly remembering what I was talking about. 

“Right…That’s right.  I have never loved anyone who loved me back, so I guess you could call that emotional masturbation…”  We both laughed for what seemed like hours still on the floor under the kitchen table like we were kids in a fort.  “Now I know what you’re thinkin’ What about Tanya?” I asked guessing what she might be thinking. 

“Well no but ok what about Tanya?” 

“Tanya loved scientists.  She was smart, but she really got turned on by intellect.  She was involved with another scientist who was married when I got to Florida and I think she went back to him after she left me.  She loved me doting on her.  She loved me serving her every need.  She just didn’t love me at all. But here is the best part, she didn’t believe in open mouth kissing.  So, I am 38 years old and have never really kissed a girl,” sobering up long enough to finally deliver the end of the confession story.  Joanie was laughing at me now and as pathetic as it was I was laughing with her. 

Time went on until finally I asked her about Mom. “Why wouldn’t you let me set a place for her at Christmas or even let me think she might come home? I really wanted to believe that after she disappeared she might just walk through the door.”  I was accusing her, but I was mostly curious. 

“For Dad.  It broke his heart when Mom disappeared. Like you I wanted her to walk through that door but even after a few days I knew.  See I knew something at 18 that a 11-year-old didn’t.  As odd as this sounds, the two of them really loved each other.  She would never stay away from him or from you unless she was really gone.  Dad and I had our problems, but I could never let him think that the woman he adored didn’t love him enough to come home. Not even at Christmas.  He was hurting too much already.  I loved the old bastard you know.”  Joan was full out crying now.  After a few minutes of watching her tears and wondering if mine would ever come she began again, “He loved you… you know.  He was so proud of you.  Robby is going to MIT.  Robby got his PhD in physics and chemistry.  Robby’s inventions got patented.  Robby came home and made an outboard engine in to a jet.  Robby has gone to the Rocket Propulsion lab to do something with magnetic induction and thrust amplification.  I was proud too baby brother, but you made my Masters of Nursing look like a ‘I used the potty certificate’ at day care.”  Joan unloaded her baggage and I think we both felt closer. 

“Sorry!  Its funny you know because all I ever heard was how well Joan was doing.  Joan saves lives.  Joan got a Masters in Nursing and now she is running a hospital.  Its too bad he couldn’t tell both of us how proud he was of us to our faces.”   

“Yeah but that was him.” Joan threw in 

“Yeah I’ll miss that too.” 

With the light shining too brightly through the window we both crawled up off the floor and bounced off the walls to our rooms.  My sister and I had become friends after all these years. 

They say the profound sadness becomes a dull ache in time, I wish I knew when.  The memories of my Dad are everywhere.  I can see and hear him as I look at the places he worked and lived.  It’s not so much about the things he said since most of his conversations through my life were grunts of acknowledgment.    “Can I give you a hand? I’d ask… “Uh huh” he’d say and then motion with his hand what he wanted me to do.    I’d give anything to hear a simple grunt now. 

Chapter 4 Moving On 

After a few days, I realised that life had to go on.  The boats still needed fuel and fixing, and a dead father seemed to be a meagre excuse for most of the people who relied on us for their amusement.  I loved these people normally but their chronic insensitivity to my pain in the face of getting gas for their pleasure boats was pissing me off. 

The solution to my dilemma walked through the door of the marine office just as I was thinking I did not want to do this anymore.  She was tall, statuesque and stunning with long flowing dark hair that had a gentle curl.  The man in me fought desperately not to stare at the perfectly perky pair of boobs barely covered by a Canadian maple leaf patterned bikini top or the tiny blue jean shorts.  She caught me looking and just offered a soft gentle laugh that let me know that she wasn’t upset or uptight.  She told me a few days later that she expected to be looked at when she dressed like that.  If she were a knight that outfit would be her armour.  It made her feel powerful and probably hated by every female on the planet. 

Her voice was soft and relaxed as she said, “Hi Davis.”  She acted like she knew me but for the life of me I couldn’t place her.  But she seemed awfully familiar. 

“Maybe you don’t remember me; I am Jack’s daughter ….” 

“Mandy,” I interrupted finally making the connection.  Jack was my Dad’s closest friend.  He lived on an island in the lake with his second wife whose name I could never remember.  He had been at the funeral but there was no way I would have missed Mandy, grieving or not.  The last time I saw her she was 11 and she and her Mom were moving away to Perth.  Seems Jack found a new model who couldn’t have been much older than Mandy who had to be 20ish by now.  A classic mid life crisis gone wrong.  Jack used to hang out here all the time, but his new wife wouldn’t be caught dead in a grease pit like this.  My Dad missed him no matter how much of a cad he thought he was, Jack was his best friend. 

“Wow, I can’t believe you remembered me after all these years,” Mandy said wondering how. 

“Well it was difficult because I thought you had moved away …. The last time I saw you was….” 

“Yeah, I remember,” Mandy interrupted not wanting to relive the pain.  “But I spent some of my summers with Jack and Lois,” The way she pronounced her stepmothers name and referred to her father as Jack pretty much told me that time had not healed every wound.  “Anyway, I just wanted to come by and tell you how sorry I was about Rod’s ……passing,” there was a long pause as she searched for the right word.  It’s funny but this was the first time since the funeral that anyone had used my Dad’s name.  It felt strange.  Not only had my Dad died but a real person called Roderick Davis had died too.  Mandy started again before the awkwardness could continue.  “Anyhow, Jack wanted me to ask if you needed any help.  I don’t know much about marine engines, but I can catch a rope or pump the gas…well after you show me… and you don’t have to pay me,” Mandy added clearly hoping I would not agree to that last part. 

“I would love to have you working here.  I can’t pay you a lot, but I am sure we could work something out.” I said truly hoping to just toss the whole damn Marina in her lap and walk away.  Mandy seemed like fun, a bit wild and so full of life, she would be a welcome change from the environment of death we had going on for the last 12 weeks or so. 

I took her to meet Joan even though Joan really didn’t have a say in the matter.  She was family and I felt obligated to include her in things.  Joan took one look at her and said out loud, “Holy crap she’s gorgeous.”  Then she said in my ear, “If you don’t sleep with her, I will.”  I knew she was mostly joking but I thought I better spoil the party before I found out for sure.   

“Ah Joan, this is Mandy….” 
“Jack’s daughter,” Joan said sounding a bit disappointed. 

Mandy was a bit confused but smiled happily anyway.  Mandy, Joan and I sat down at the kitchen table with Joan still salivating despite the fact Mandy was the daughter of our Dad’s best friend.  She was young enough to be Joan’s daughter and I realised that ‘damn it she was young enough to be my daughter too’.  Of course, she was just a year or 5 younger than Larson.  I felt like slapping myself silly for even thinking it.   Mandy caught me leering again and again she laughed when I tried to look away.  Admittedly, compared to Joan, I was respectful.  Finally, I just called Joan’s name, 

“Joan!” 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, it’s just that I can’t get over how much you look like your mother.”  Joan said trying to cover the fact she hadn’t even seen a female in about 14 weeks. 

“I think my mother is quite pretty,” Mandy said with a smile but obviously trying to diffuse an awkward moment, “So thanks for the compliment.” 

Joan replied, “Oh you’re quite welcome.”   

Joan turned to me for rescue, but I was thinking of just letting her hang herself.  But finally, I interjected, “So I imagine you’d like to know what we want you to do for the marina?” 

“Well actually I was enjoying hearing how pretty I am, but if you want to make this all business….” Mandy said laughing.  Joan laughed too much, and I just let my eyes do the laughing for me. 

“Well I am not sure how early you can get here but we won’t open the shop until then.  Then if you could take care of the cash, manning the pumps which I will show you in a minute and then just keep an eye on the boats making sure they get moored ok…that kind of thing.”  I rattled off her duties as quickly as I could because I kept getting rattled myself looking in those dark blue eyes.  She was a friend’s daughter and I was still filled with complicated emotions about Larson not to mention she was now an employee, but I could not help finding her attractive. 

My thoughts betrayed me as she caught me off guard with her next question, “Shall we get started?” 

“What?… um oh yeah.” 

“You were going to show me a man with cash that I could pump…. Well at least that is the way I heard it.”  Mandy teased. 

All three of us burst out laughing.  It was something Joan and I had not done for a few days.  Mandy’s shock humour was just enough to send us into hysterics and we all laughed too long and too hard. 

Finally, Joan said, “There is no doubt about it the Marina is in good hands, this girl is hilarious.”  Despite Joan’s initial attraction, now she just genuinely liked the girl.  Despite my attraction, I felt the same way. 

Mandy learned her duties quickly but like a comedian on a roll she continued with the innuendo.   

“Can you come inside, and I’ll show you how it works?”  I asked as we were going in to see the shop cash register. 

“Wow you almost never hear a man say that.” 

“Can you hold this for me while I turn it on,” I asked as I handed her an oil can that fell from the shelf as I went over to the cash. 

“Now there is something I do hear from guys all the time,” Mandy laughed. 

I laughed too but I finally said, “Oh god I think we have created a monster.” 

“You just keep layin’ em out there and I’ll keep knocking them away,” Mandy said using a sports euphemism 

“Now there is something you don’t hear girls say that often.”  And we both laughed again.  It was going to be a fun summer.  Mandy was nice to look at and had a warped sense of humour.  The only way to ruin the fun would be for us to get involved so I resolved at that moment it would never happen. 

Mandy arrived promptly the next morning wearing a ‘hot girls are people too’ purple tee shirt and a micro mini that I wasn’t sure was covering anything.  One thing for sure she was great for business.  I had never seen a larger collection of middle aged letches and penis head teenage boys in my life.  One of them bought a can of oil and I don’t think he even had a boat.  She learned quickly…I even heard her exclaim to a couple of boys, “If you’re not buying anything you’ll have to leave.” 

I was finally free to work on the engines.  There is some satisfaction in taking a broken engine and making it work again.  Over in the corner there was a 50-year-old Evinrude sitting in a test tank that I worked on whenever I had nothing else to do.  A boy named Tim had brought it in to me after he found it in his grandfather’s garage.  It was on an old wooden boat that had more dry rot than wood left.  The boy was lucky to be alive because he rowed that boat about a mile before it literally sank in my dock.  I got the crane on the motor just in time. 

As I was working on the motor and tearing it down I started thinking about progressive compression chambers like a jet or a turbine and I started thinking about using many fuels instead of one.  One to power the initial compression reaction for a further compression of something inert that became volatile when compressed.  I had done it.  I had solved the problem that the scientists in the propulsion lab had failed to.  You could hyper compress the fuel and use its decompression to fuel the next reaction and so on down the line until the two most volatile fuels mixed to create a cataclysmic reaction.  I wanted to call Larson and tell her, but she had chosen to use my designs as engines of death.  The only thing I could do was build one myself.  If it worked in water with the chemicals I could easily get like hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen, it could work with more sophisticated chemicals. 

I would build my super engine later; right now, I had an internal combustion engine to take care of.  It had a cracked cylinder head which had scored up the cylinder pretty badly, but it was fixable.  That kid hadn’t been back since the day he almost drowned.  Yet another parts delivery I would probably never get paid for.  I could see why Dad was always such a stickler for half down when he did a major repair…at least his costs were covered. 

I peered out the open garage door to catch Mandy thoroughly bent over pumping gas on a small cabin cruiser with two delighted old men enjoying the show and one angry older woman looking disgusted. 

“Hey Mandy,” I yelled out. 

“Yeah?” She looked up and smiled one of her you’re-a-man-and-I-own-you smiles. 

“Do you know a kid named Tim who sunk a boat here?”  I yelled the question wondering if she would find it as dumb as it sounded. 

“I should, he is my boyfriend,” Mandy said, as a matter of fact.   

The words hit me by surprise.  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that someone that pretty had a boyfriend, but this Tim kid was well young…probably her age as I thought about it.  Now I was having second thoughts about fronting the kid the parts to fix the engine.  He probably couldn’t get his hands on a boat to go with it anyway.  The little schmuck who gets to touch that face, kiss those lips, run his hands through that hair and …. 

“Why?” I heard Mandy ask in the background. 

“Oh um…just thinking about something,” I said trying to escape my good deed out of pure jealousy.  Mandy was finished her boat fill-up-sex-tease… “and look they gave me an extra 10 bucks,” she said genuinely surprised. 

“Imagine that.  Couldn’t be the outfit, could it?” I said under my breath. 

“What? No… well a little skin can make a man feel as guilty as sin.” Mandy laughed at her quote from god knows where.  “Anyway, for some reason I feel like I have to explain about Tim and me.”  She offered but I tried to stop her before she finished. 

“No, no not at all.  I guess I assumed you didn’t have a boyfriend, but I never asked, and it really is none of my business.  I mean god knows you are pretty enough but I guess I thought…well none of these kids would be good enough for you,” I felt like I had turned three shades of purple and just kept digging myself in deeper. 

“So, you think I am that hot?” She asked very pleased at herself for putting me on the defensive.   

I just nodded because anything I said here would just make it worse. 

“Tim lost his father a while ago and now his grandfather.  He looks like he is about 14 but he is really 18 and lives with his sister and her husband in their grandfather’s old house.  I call him my boyfriend ‘cus we hang out a lot and it helps get rid of some of the boys. But I am older than him and he knows that so it’s platonic, though there are times when I am sure he would like more than that.  Then again there are other times when I am not sure he is in to girls…. He has a huge G.I. Joe collection and he notices shoes…what’s that tell ya?”  She laughed to my relief because I was laughing too. 

Joan could zero in on nervous laughter like no one else I knew.  “What’s going on?” She asked curiously and maybe a little defensively. 

“Mandy here has a boyfriend who is in to G.I. Joes and notices women’s shoes,” I said teasing Mandy. 

“Oh, poor girl! I was in love with someone who was gay too.  But since she and I were both gay that made it a lot easier.”  Joan was teasing but still flirting rather sadly with the girl who was 25 years her junior.  “What you need to do,” Joan continued “is have an affair with a mature woman.  That will pay the boy back for his preferring the sausage.” 

Mandy looked at me before she realised that Joan had just been teasing her which made me laugh even harder. 

“It’s not like that,” Mandy protested.  “Tim isn’t really my boyfriend and I don’t know that he is gay.  From the way he looks at me I would say that he isn’t, but he does play with dolls and is aware of shoes…” 

“Rob, quick without looking, what kind of shoes is Mandy wearing?” Joan asked still teasing. 

“Um white ones?”  I really was guessing because I had no idea even though we were talking about shoes. 

“See, despite the fact my brother would blow a man to measure the scientific reaction, I know he is not gay.  Only women, gay men and shoe makers actually notice shoes.”  Joan continued until we all were laughing hard. 

“Hey, I would not blow a guy just to measure his reaction.” 

“Yes, you would and then you’d get someone else to blow him to see if the law of diminishing returns holds true in a sexual vane or not.”  Joan’s comment was probably true.  For science, I would probably do almost anything.  Not sure if I would go that far or not but I had done some unusual things to measure a scientific truth. 

“I am wearing brown sandals with a small heal, in case you were wondering,” Mandy pitched in. 

“Sorry,” I offered 

“Don’t be.  I guess I would be more worried if you did know what shoes I was wearing.  I had you pegged as straight and I would have had serious gay-dar issues if you turned out to be gay,” Mandy said still half teasing. 

“Anyway,” Joan interrupted, “I was wondering if you two would like to take the big boat, go out to Perth and get some dinner.  I want to talk to both of you.” 

I hadn’t even fired up the engine of the cruiser since before Dad died.  I had come in and turned the blowers on and run the bilge pump for a while, but I didn’t start it.  The Sacred Heart as Dad named her was built by an Ontario firm called Grew.  She was a 26-foot mahogany lapstreak wooden boat built in the 70s with a small forward vee cabin and a fold away galley table.  As kids, we went on all kinds of trips on her but after Mom disappeared it was only occasionally.  Dad loved the boat; spending every winter re-conditioning the hull and making her sound for the water.    

It was the first engine I ever worked on.  The original engine was a 350 Chevy that I had developing over 500 horsepower with a new inboard-outboard using a variable pitch and through the hub exhaust propeller.   My Dad was very proud of the modifications.  Especially proud when his cabin cruiser was blasting past ski boats half its size. 

As we gathered up the stuff we need for the trip, I reflected on how far Joan and I had come.  We hadn’t stayed in touch over the years.  She had resentments and so did I, but we overcame them all and here we are today as close as any two siblings can be.  My sister was talented.  She kept my Dad strong right up till the end.  It was her strength that allowed him to keep his dignity and not haemorrhage to death.  She was the one who made most of the arrangements while keeping me going at the same time.  I was proud of my big sister.  I had only just found out she was a lesbian and the story of her life was really quite sad.  But she knew me and knew I was afraid of the love that was developing between me and Larson more than I was angry at Larson’s betrayal.   

She helped me see that I was changed and quite a bit more receptive to what the future might hold.  The engine fired up right away like the heart of my father living inside of it.  I looked around the small marina with its blue painted wooden floating docs, the boathouse in the back where we kept the speed boat, the white and grey marine office where people signed in for overnight docking and bought their supplies; the two big pumps, one with diesel and the other with pure gas and several gas oil mixtures that hardly anyone ever used anymore; the trees that lined the back so you couldn’t even see the  parking lot behind them and behind the boathouse was my house where Joan and I grew up. 

I never realised how much I really loved this place.  Joan was right I was just hiding out but now I really felt like I was home.  With Mandy running the marina and me fixing boats and able to experiment and play, I can’t imagine any other place in the world I would rather be.  Joan could come back on the weekends and spend some time here and I would keep the place running.  Sure, there was no trip to Mars, but there was a life and a strange feeling of contentment came over me.  For the first time since my mom disappeared, I felt like I belonged somewhere, right here at home. 

Chapter 5. Finding Home 

I untied the boat from the doc cleats and threw the rope on top of the deck.  I thought the lone turquoise border strake that connected the deck to the hull looked a bit dingy and could use a coat of paint.  Dad would have been pissed that I let this go so much.  While the boat just floated, I took down the musty smelling tarp and opened the back deck to the sky.  I revved the engine once and then popped it in reverse for a second then let it coast back.  The Sacred Heart floated back quietly.  I put the cruiser in drive and steered her toward the refuelling doc.  Mandy and her sexy short dress were waiting for me and I tried to divert my eyes as she fuelled the tank.  In this day and age, it is unthinkable to even admire beauty. But since the boat needed gas it would have to be this way…for now! 

Things like regular hours and opening and closing times had never been part of the regimen of the marina.  So, it was no issue for Mandy to join Joan and I to just leave.  As the waves pounded gently on the old wooden hull, the boat planed perfectly past the many rich man islands as we traversed the lake.  We pulled up to an old government dock that had seen better days and moored there, and we walked the old road into the town of Portland.  We found a nice-looking restaurant and as we walked in past the nautical décor on the walls and waited until each man had a chance to rape Mandy at least once with their eyes before we sat down at a table for 4. 

“Before you get too drunk, I just wanted to tell you that it’s time for me to go back to Ottawa.”  Joan said without a hint of smile.  “Now that you have Mandy to run the shop and we’ve had time to grieve.  I think its time to get back to reality.” 

“Are you sure?”  I said hoping that she would say no.  “I mean I knew that sooner or later you would want to leave….” 

“No, it’s not that I want to leave.  In fact, I’ve really enjoyed this time with my baby brother… getting a chance to re-connect with you has been one of the best times of my life…despite why it happened.  But I need to be a nurse, to save lives, to feel useful.  I need to be me again.”  Joan said it like she was asking for permission. 

“I understand,” I lied. “I guess I just hate to lose my big sister now that I have found her again.” 

“Well that’s just it.  We have reconnected, and I will not stay away this time.  I will be back as often as time permits and who knows I might even learn to pump gas or something.  We are not going to lose what it took losing our father to get.  I will be part of your life and nothing you can do will stop me.”  Joan reassured. 

The hours sailed by and after a fill of Lobster flown from Moncton to Ottawa and picked up by the restaurant in Portland that very day…. I made mine dance and used the claws for castanets…yeah I was hammered…it was awesome.  The three of us had a blast and we somehow staggered our way back to the boat.  I passed out on the transom bed and the girls went down below deck and if I am not mistaken, spent the night getting off with each other.  They must have been in better shape than I was because all I could think of was how the boat was going side to side and I was spinning.  At one point, I covered myself with the musty smelling tarp as I had donated enough blood to the save-the-mosquito foundation. 

In the morning, I untied the boat and headed back home.  It felt odd like this might be the last time.  I didn’t know how or why but I had a sense of impending doom and I could not really explain it other than an odd turn in the grieving process. 

Just as I pulled up to our dock, Mandy and Joan opened the cabin door, albeit sheepishly, and Mandy handed me a coffee which I was so grateful for, I think. I almost forgot about what sounded like multiple trysts the night before. 

I wanted to, but I didn’t bring it up and all Joan would say or do is “Thanks for your discretion little brother”. And we left it at that. 

Despite Mandy’s pleas for Joan to stay just a bit longer.  Joan left later that afternoon.  I wasn’t sure if it was just that the kid had never had anyone love her and leave her, but she seemed insistent until Joan was finally really short with her. 

Mandy said, “If you leave now you will never see me or your brother again!”  Joan just smiled and grabbed Mandy into a hug and said, “Trust me you’ll get over it.”  And at that she packed her last suitcase into her car. 

I should have asked what Mandy meant but I just chocked it up to youth and forgot about it until much later that night. 

Chapter 6. Taken 

Joan and I packed up the rest of her stuff into the car, so she could get on her way.  Mandy was nowhere to be found.  It was later summer now, so the daylight was leaving early like it had an appointment somewhere else in the world.  It was still hot and humid, and I could feel the sweat making my clothes cling like I was using bad dryer sheets.  Or, it might have been the fact that for the first time I would be alone in a place where my Dad had always been an island of peace in a world of tribulation.  Now that my sister was leaving I would have no choice but to miss him and feel truly alone.   

I knew I’d keep busy with the boats in the summer and snowmobiles in the winter—there was always gas to pour, engines to fix and gadgets to sell.  It was a simple life that I had opted for and I was going to share with my father for at least another 10 years or so.  Now that he was gone I had no choice but to keep his dream going. 

Joan was wearing shorts and a tee-shirt and did not look overheated at all as she gave me a brief hug and said, “I’ll see you soon little brother …. oh, and tell Mandy I’m sorry, I thought she understood it was just a night of fun.” 

“I’ll take care of it.” I said knowing I would never say anything to the kid. 

“I’ll be back in a few weeks.”  Joan said to the open window as she drove away. 

A few months ago, and that would have seemed like a threat and now I was really looking forward to it.  As Joan drove away up through the trees on the long driveway, I went back to the cabin cruiser to putter around and wait for customers. For a while I just looked down into the crystal-clear waters of the Big Rideau Lake and allowed myself a chance to feel sad.  I had been so focused on doing things that this was my first real opportunity to grieve.  I was alone. 

My melancholy had driven me to a deep sleep under the canopy on the back of the boat.  If there had been any customers, I am sure they were not happy, but I had slept so deeply that I actually felt better.  It was very dark now but there were very bright lights coming from the other side of the house.  They looked like police lights and I quickly turned on the radio.  There had been accident, someone had driven off the bridge near the Lake and the lone occupant had not been found.  If it had been Joan, there was a chance she was still alive.  I jumped off the boat and ran to the house, but these men and women were not police.  They were wearing uniforms of what looked like thick but pliable plastic and helmets with lights built in.  Just up the driveway was a long jet-fighter sized flattened tube with small glass windows and more of the uniformed people inside.  I think I am just about to be kidnapped by aliens, but these were not aliens at all, they were speaking English and looked like soldiers.  I wonder if the damned Americans couldn’t get their missiles to fly properly and were here to take my brain apart…but they didn’t look like Americans either. 

As I got closer I still had not been seen.  There was one standing with his back to me with a gun in his hand.  I am not a soldier or even trained in any way, but instinct took over and I had knocked the guy over before I knew what the hell I was doing.  He fell with a thud…head first.  I don’t know if I killed him, but he did not look well.  I took his gun and as I looked up, coming out of the door of the house was Mandy and behind her was another soldier.  I fired and hit him square in the face.  He went down quickly.  I screamed for Mandy to get down but as I did she lifted her odd-looking small sceptre-like weapon and shot me. The she shouted, “He’s out here,” as I felt myself melt like I had been turned into soup. 

Unconscious I was apparently taken aboard the ship and thrown into a cage like I was a wild animal.  I had been betrayed, there was a chance that my sister was dead, I was still grieving my father, I had left the radio on in the boat and the person behind it all was being paid minimum wage…. by me! 

I was really feeling like things could not get worse as I was still half-dazed but when I opened my eyes I saw a petite lovely young woman in the adjoining cage with her white blouse too far open to be considered professional with weepy eyes that when you looked closely at them, sparkled between blue and sometimes green…God how I hated her. 

“Hey Davis,” she said without a hint of emotion or a hint of regret or even acknowledging the year that had gone by since we last spoke.  Or even the fact that we were captives on some sort of sky ship headed away from the comfort of the lake and soil that I am guessing now is so far beneath us. 

“Ms. Larson,” is all I could say without opening a bag of hatred that I had hoped to use the next time I saw her.  

This was now two women who had betrayed me.  Mandy had just shot me with some sort of heat ray gun which although not fatal, wasn’t the most pleasant experience I ever had.  It felt like I was being boiled alive for a second and then I felt nothing.  I think it felt worse that an old family friend could do this, but I had to remember that it was her youth and beautiful face and body that made up for the fact that I was a gullible man and I really didn’t know her that well. 

As I looked around, there really wasn’t anything other-worldly about the ship.  In front of me was a narrow hallway with metal locker-like doors and the cages on the other.  I felt cheated that there wasn’t some sort of force field…just metal cages like the ones they had at the SPCA for large dogs.  There looked to be about 10 cages but only 5 of them had people in them.  Two of the captives were moaning and crying, another was sort of catatonic and just two were curious. 

Our captors looked more like cops in green than they did military.  Most looked like they were fit humans in their mid to late 40s.   They wore jumper style flight suits with a shiny black x belt that attached in the middle of their chests.  From that hung the sceptre weapon, a communicator {I assumed} and some sort of scanning device. 

My cage was somewhere in the middle of the ship with about 15 feet to the front and to the back.  At the back, I could see Mandy in a mini dress whoring it up with a few older soldiers, laughing and giggling like she was deciding to sleep with all of them at once or just one at a time.  She saw my stare, stopped smiling for a second and resumed her role as an unconscionable whore. 

As looked to the front of the ship I saw someone that made me think I was dreaming and I would wake up with a hang-over and a laugh.  Ten feet in front of me was…. but it couldn’t be…my mother!  First, she hadn’t aged since I was a kid.  Secondly, she had been gone for more than 20 years!  She looked and saw me, but it obviously didn’t register who I was and she resumed talking to the men and women around her.  All I could say was, “Mom?” over and over again until the slut who betrayed me was standing in front of me. 

As she bent down all I could think of was wrapping my hands around her perfect little neck.  I grabbed but the cage was in the way.  She just smiled and turned around and pulled up her mini skirt and said, “What’s wrong Mr. Davis don’t you still want to DO me?”  Then she started to laugh as she slowly put her thonged butt away and turned back around. 

“Jesus Davis, were you robbing kindergartens up there in the north?” Larson said with a sarcastic snicker. 

Mandy kicked her cage hard enough that Larson decided that was all she was going to say for now. 

“You’re probably wondering why you’re here and where you are for that matter,” Mandy started. 

“No, I always begin my vacations with a couple of shootings just before being kidnapped by aliens,” Davis said without a hint of humour. 

“First, I would be careful not to remind them of what happened if I were you.  You shot a couple of their men and they are not happy with you at all. Secondly, most of us are not aliens…. we’re kind of like mercenaries from Earth representing the planet Usalus…. 

“The planet useless?” Larson interrupted just before Mandy kicked her cage again. 

“Usalus, and this will go quicker if you just let me finish.” Mandy said getting angrier now.  “Most of us are volunteers who were given the option of leaving our troubled lives on Earth and becoming peace and security workers.  It’s a simple job since we don’t have wars to fight.  Usalus has very few enemies except for a border dispute with a nearby planet in an adjacent solar system.  So, we spend our days training for a fight that hopefully will never happen.   

“Why mercenaries from Earth?” Davis asked despite himself. 

“Well that is a funny thing, they found a portal…sort of a black hole… that leads to this galaxy and saw the Earth was the only planet where people fight each other and they decided to take advantage of our war like tendencies.” 

“Yay us!” Larson said without getting a boot this time. 

Mandy continued, “At first they took homeless people, people from plane crashes…. 

“The Bermuda Triangle?” Larson interjected again 

“Not as many as you might think, Mandy said trying to be patient. 

‘ Larson, for god’s sake…lets just get through this,” Davis injected not sure whom he was mad at. 

“Oh, Sure now he speaks to me.  If you think he is difficult now, try working with him….” Larson started until she realized they were both just staring at her.  “Oh, right sorry…Can’t interrupt or Davis won’t get his rocks off with the child,” She muttered under her breath.   

Mandy was getting angrier now.  “First, I would have been more into you than him but even if I did do Davis, which I didn’t…” She was getting flustered now. “Secondly, if I had, it would have been for this mission and nothing else!”  Mandy paused and waited for Larson to say something and then went on.   

“Over the years there have been a few …what the Usalans call ‘Reluctants’ but for the most part every one of us is a volunteer.  We left because we just could not stand our lives back on Earth.  You two with the other 3 are our first real Reluctants in a long time.  The Usalan Science Command came across a design for propulsion which involved the mixing of 2 different fuels… 

“I am familiar with it…I designed it and she,” Davis said, pointing at Larson, “Stole it.”  

“Anyway, they are hoping that you will adapt it to their technology, so they can defend their interests better….’, Mandy recited. 

“And take more and more people from Earth who may or may not want to go.”  Davis stated the obvious.  “Well I’m excited.  I can’t wait to be part of more kidnappings.” Davis said sarcastically 

“Look Mr. Davis you were nice to me…”  

“Oh, I’ll bet he was…” Larson muttered and they both ignored it with an eye roll “So I will tell you the truth,” Mandy continued whispering, “They use creatures…that …well… don’t control you but give you that moment of near euphoria and you’ll do anything to feel it.  I’ve seen it happen.   Believe me you don’t want that.  But that is exactly what they will do to you if you don’t cooperate.”  Mandy was back to full volume again.   

“But none of that is ever going to happen because you’ll realise you can pretty much have whatever you want whenever you want it.  Except to go home.” As the woman Davis thought might be his mother… except younger… started to walk by, Mandy introduced them. 

“And I know you know this lady,” Mandy said still feigning excitement 

The woman looked down at Davis and then back to herself and back down again.  “Robby?” She asked curiously. 

“Mom?”   

Chapter 7 Rescued 

Davis’ mother looked confused.  Her son wasn’t much older than 10 when she was taken.  Here he was a man in his 30s.   

For Davis, the opposite problem was the cause of his confusion.  His mother didn’t look any different than she did the last time he saw her almost 30 years ago.  She was still an attractive woman seemingly in her late 30s or early 40s packed into one of the Usalan jumpsuits.  But she was like a person being stabilized by both lithium and valium.  He manor was slow and deliberate and even the excitement of seeing her youngest son after all these years was not enough to elevate her expressions. 

“I am sorry that I don’t seem very excited to see you,” Davis’ Mom said, without a hint of emotion.  “I am excited but when I was captured and taken I was categorized a ‘reluctant’ and forced to endure…. well…a form of emotional control.  I have not been able to express a lot of emotion ever since.  It eased the pain of losing you and Joan.  How is your Dad?”  The emotionless description of her life was nearly horrifying and her question about Davis’ father, who pined for her everyday until he died, was almost too much.   

Davis wanted to punch her for being so heartless, but he knew it was not her fault.  And he would not want this to happen to anyone…except maybe Larson. 

“He died of throat cancer about a month ago.”  Davis said trying to match the tone of unfeeling he felt from his mother.  He knew it was not her fault but could not help feeling anger towards her for leaving him, Joan or his father…who never got over it.  “Until his dying breath, he never gave up hope that he would see you again.”  Davis said more angrily than he intended.   

“He was a good man.  A bit simple perhaps but a kind and decent man,” Davis’ mother said too calmly.  “I am sorry I was not there for him or for you, but I had to show other reluctants how to serve.” 

“Yes, I can certainly see how teaching Earthlings to love being kidnapped would take precedent over your own children,” Larson piped in sarcastically. 

Coldly Davis’ mother turned to Larson with total disdain in her eyes and then back to Davis.  “Is this your girlfriend?” She said like the robot she had virtually become. 

“No this used to be my worst enemy…at least until my mother showed up,” Davis said almost dispassionately.  He was more confused than full of hate, but the words expressed more than his anger and frustration.  He was agreeing with Larson.  She had said exactly what he was feeling which was more frightening than being held captive flying through space heading to the unknown. 

Coldly and methodically Davis’ mother replied, “You will find it is emotion that is your greatest enemy as I did.” 

“Don’t let them see your anger….”Davis’ mother whispered before she winced in pain and pulled away from the cage. 

One of the other captives was just waking up in the cage on the other side of Larson.  She looked to be in her late teens with blond hair mixed with pink and blue streaks, a nice petite figure but time had not been good to her.  My guess is that she had been living on the streets and a frequent drug user if not an addict.  She was wearing a red plaid lumber jack shirt open over a sports bra and a red leather mini with only one clog like shoe on one foot.  She seemed groggy for a minute but as she became more self aware she began screaming.   

“Where…what… what’s going on…?” was all I heard and then shrill ear-piercing screams.  She was voicing how I felt but I still wanted her to stop.    

One of the green guard, as I had now dubbed them, came over with his sceptre like weapon and jolted the cage so that sparks were flying every where causing Larson to press herself up to my cage and start yelling, “She’s just scared, leave her alone…”  But the green guard just zapped her cage instead which quieted Larson’s indignation.  

Then the guard opened the cage and grabbed the screaming girl by the hair and pulled her out.  She was still screaming but as she stood there he ripped her clothes off like they were paper.  She stopped screaming perhaps realizing that wherever this was going it was not going to be good. 

Larson was pleading for the girl now.  “Please, she is just a kid…she stopped screaming.  Just put her back in her cage and let her…. 

The guard cut her off, “Maybe you’d like to take her place?” The guard growled, and Larson sat back down. “No?  I thought not…now mind your own business.”  And he gave her cage another jolt with the sceptre. 

Then he turned to the back of the ship and said, “I gots us a toy boys and girls.”  There was a group of five or six already at various stages of undress laughing to themselves.  The girl was really screaming now but this time in knowing horror of what was about to take place.  He pushed her until she fell at the back in a room full of mind controlled rapists. 

The girl looked back at me and I no longer saw the street person, but a young girl scared, sad and alone.  I banged my cage trying to break out but other than hurt my head and my hand it wasn’t working.  I was virtually crying as I called for my mother and Mandy but to no avail as I am pretty sure Mandy was holding the kid down and had one of the kid’s breasts in her mouth.  Since that thing that used to be my mother and the kid from the island in Big Rideau were not going to help all I could do is look away. 

At one point, I heard her whimper “Please not there” followed by a shrill scream.  It was horrendous and heart braking all at the same time.    One of the green cloaked rapists laughed and said, “I think you ass fucked her to death.” 

“Yes,” Mandy chimed in, “She stopped breathing so I guess you can leave her alone.”  

“Fuck that she is still warm and I aint done.”   

“Well I guess we can chalk one up to spoilage.” Mandy said without a hint of remorse.  

I could hear his pelvis still slapping at her until he let out a moan as his friends laughed and celebrated.  I did not know how the mind control worked but if it meant I would end up like some redneck rapist, I wanted no part of it.  I heard Larson sobbing and I knew she was thinking the same thing…. We must escape.  We have got to find a way… 

Mandy did say there was a sexual component to the treatment of “Reluctants” but now I was starting to wonder if all the mercenaries from Earth were all treated the same way.  They seemed normal enough but there was a violence to them that seemed to defy whatever humanity they had left. 

Mandy walked from the back of the ship right by us saying, “See that is what happens when you don’t cooperate.”   

She just got to the front where my mother was when all hell broke loose.  There was a massive bang and sirens went off.  Suddenly, the entire rear of the ship just broke off and floated away.  The rapists together with the other captives just floated in empty space.  Larson and I were weightless as well.  

There was another ship, like this one but larger and more like an Earth helicopter but without rotors. With that realization came another, we were without air.  My last conscious thought was the other ship must have rammed us.  As I looked back the door to the forward area closed and we were left to die from suffocation.  

Chapter 8 The Coranians 

Our revival came quickly enough but these people were different.  The still looked humanoid but they were covered by shielded helmets and their bodies covered in what looked to be a latex paint or a very close-fitting garment.  Physically they seemed to have the same body parts and in the same locations except one seemed more like a dolphin or a shark than a human although it was walking upright. 

As I started to get my wits back I looked for Larson.  She too looked confused, her mouth covered with a mask but as I looked around the others who had been kidnapped with us were not so lucky.  They may have suffocated or got hurt in the blast when the ships collided, but they were definitely dead.  Larson gave a me a thumbs-up and I returned the gesture as our new captors opened our cages and we were floating toward open space. 

We were grabbed and guided by a few of our new captors toward the opening of the other ship.  They spoke to us, but we had no idea what they were saying.  It sounded like all their words either began with an ‘n’ or an ‘f’ sound like, ‘Fiery nafio newcomb?’  I had no idea what they were saying but I was starting to realise they did not seem to mean us any harm.   

But for all I knew they were saying ‘come back to our ship where we will boil you in acid one inch at a time’.  The shark like creature with the water helmet stated to laugh and started speaking in the odd language and all the other captors started laughing as well.  

Our lighthearted new captors started pushing us to the gap of space and the door of their ship.  I wasn’t sure if my human skin could take the cold, radiation and whatever else is in open space but I knew it didn’t seem right.  I was thinking this could be it as I watched Larson try and break free of her captor, but he just tightened his grip and they floated through to the other side.   

While normally I would have preferred to watch Larson blow up in open space, right now she was the only person I knew from my planet and I would have felt very alone if she had blown up.  I’d have gotten over it of course but I would have been somewhat inconsolable for at least 10 minutes. 

There must have been some sort of force field in place that kept us from floating off and now that Larson evidently survived I figured I would too.   

The new ship we were brought to was much different from the sparse functionality of the other.  There were bright colours and several rows of people monitoring things.  As I came through the door I saw Larson sitting at a terminal showing 3d pictures of objects. I felt a light but still evident gravity as I stood up and then I was pushed rather roughly to sit down beside her.  The female who pushed me looked like she was wearing nothing but body paint and very obviously had all the basic equipment in all the right places.  She was hairless, but I could not tell if that was by choice or just a trait.  As I looked around they all seemed to be the same except for the shark like ones.  They continued to wear body suits and helmets.  As the last of the invaders on the other ship returned the door closed and I felt another moment of trepidation. 

At that my captor again pushed me toward the screen.  I understood this time and told Larson.  “It’s a translator.”  I said quickly.  “We find objects that we have in common and say the name and from that their computer will help us translate their language to ours.” 

“Or vice versa.” Larson chimed in. 

“Right”, I said.  It was inevitable that anatomy came first.  “Foot, leg, calf, thigh…”  This could take forever but we figured out how to pause the object if it had more than one name.  The sex organs were next, and Larson and I forgot about everything for a moment and we got silly. “Penis,” I said 

“Cock” Larson offered. 

“Dick” I said 

“Talleywhacker” Larson said laughing 

“Good one” I whispered. “Weiner, hot dog,” “Um help me out here.” 

“I think we should move on,” Larson said.  Looking around we could both tell that we were exhausting the patience of our new captors as they didn’t find dick pics as funny as we did.  It might have been a tribute to the comfort level that we had with our new captors or just the fact we were so scared that we just didn’t know what was going to happen next.  But with this group trying to communicate with us without threats, it seemed like we were in a better place. 

On the other ship we were angry, scared and confused but also feeling like we were living out life time dreams.  We both longed for space and neither of us ever really expected to be able to go there.  But here we were and with less threat over our heads we could finally appreciate it.  As body parts pictures gave way to actions, the translations started to make sense.  This entire process would probably take days or even weeks, but it was evident that we were making progress as our captors gave started sounding more and more Earth-like as the translators kicked in. 

As we looked out of the ship there was another bigger ship about the size and configuration of a space based frigate.   It was smooth except for two very large engines hung on the end of a wing on each side. 

At the back of ship which seemed to be about 330 metres long was an opened dome and a landing deck not unlike a helipad.  We landed roughly, and our new captors pointed sceptre-like weapons at us as the translator came on about a minute later telling us to ‘get up and walk’.  Larson started to laugh. 

“What the hell, Larson?” I asked wondering what she could possibly find funny out of all this. 

“It’s like a bad kung-fu movie,” Larson said laughing. 

I got it and I started to laugh too “Rook its Gozirra,” I said remembering every bad Japanese horror movie I ever watched. 

Our captors did not see the humour and kept pushing us out of the small ship and out into the landing deck.  A female was waiting for us and she motioned to us to follow her down a very long corridor with at least 100 doors on one side and portholes every foot or so on the other side. 

“Please come me” the soldier said in our language.  Likely she had studied a few words from the translator we were training on the small ship.  Suddenly we found ourselves in a large open area and at the centre we could see a bridge like command area which was buzzing with activity. 

A woman with a very nice figure and a small bit of hair on her head {answers the question about the hair} came over from the bridge area.  Her paint/suit/whatever was yellow compared to most of the others who wore various shades of white.  There were a few aquatics who wore beige suits and different colour helmets standing behind the woman in yellow. 

The girl who led us there was trying to tell us who the person in yellow was.  “Command Person Natelly Nyarma” The girl said and then brought up a hand to her chest which seems to be a salute.  I held out my hand to the Command Person who looked confused, so I turned to Larson and she shook my hand.  It is a gesture meaning I trust you. The universal translator came back 10 seconds later, and Captain said “Ahhh” and then shook my hand.    She then introduced us to her senior officers. 

“Davis” I said as I said hello to each of the senior crew.   I soon learned that “nafetti” meant ‘welcome’ and while most of the crew wore some sort of white uniform, the very senior people wore colours on their sleeves which probably indicated rank.  After the introductions, we were led to a terminal like the one in the smaller ship and began expanding the vocabulary of the translator.  Communication problem partially solved. 

The one problem we had not solved was food.  Larson and I were both starving and thirsty.  We found a plate of what we hoped was food in the data base as it showed a plate and people consuming it.  We pointed to the plates on the screen and our captors said, “Nomyana”.  “Food” Larson and I said simultaneously. 

At that our captors, led by the commander. brought us to a rather plain looking stainless steel-like room with benches and tables.  The commander said something to the staff there and then left us to resume her duties.  I was trying to be respectful but wow she had a perfect…. I was hit hard by Larson who noticed my leer.  Then, thankfully, a very large angry looking person with what seemed like an apron came up and repeated the Nomyana word or phrase that was now instantly translated over speakers in the room as ‘food’. 

Although I felt like a cowboy in a bad western trying to communicate with the natives, it was evident that we were starting to make progress.  After the apron guy had disappeared behind a half wall for about 5 minutes, we were starting to wonder if the message had been understood. 

Then he came back with a steel tray of things and a couple of square plates also made of steel.  On the tray was a reddish leafy vegetable of some type, a group of balls that looked like miniature potatoes and a legume of sorts in a sauce.  The legumes tasted like beans but without ketchup or brown sugar.  Barbarians!   

People that serve beans without brown sugar and ketchup need to be eliminated from the universe.  Just as I was musing about destroying these people for their lack of etiquette, they brought over a sauce that while it wasn’t quite ketchup, it tasted like a mix of siracha and ketchup and made the beans almost edible. 

We ate without saying a word to each other or to our captives.  We each gave the food a ‘thumbs up’ and our captors seemed pleased. 

Later they walked us to our sleeping quarters with your typical sliding door with two very normal looking beds about a foot apart, a thing that looks like a motorcycle behind the half wall which I later found out by way of video on the wall was a toilet that also washed and dried.  It not only functions as a toilet that separates solids from liquids, but it also offers a masturbation function for both males and females.  Clearly, they had less hang ups about sex as this room was meant to be shared. 

I found a built-in wall terminal and began researching as much as the limited translation would enable. As it went on it got easier as the translation program had found a dialect like English in its database.  Now I was intrigued to learn as much as I could.  

 It seems that Human and our captor’s anatomies, except for the shark/dolphin like creatures, were very similar.  From the pictures, there looked like there was a slightly wider gap between the anus and the sex organs but other than that they were remarkably similar. 

As a scientist, it made me wonder about their species origins.  Were there monkey-like creatures on their planet? Did we evolve the same way?  Or, do we have common ancestry?  There was so much to learn but I didn’t even know how to say ‘thank you’ yet let alone, ‘how did your species evolve?’. 

I read that the dolphin or shark like creatures can breathe oxygen for up to 12 hours without being immersed in fluid.  While they can and do eat, they can go a very long time without sustenance.  Rather than having a large dorsal fin they have several small fins that run down their back.  Otherwise they too are anatomically similar to human — other than their feet which are wider and webbed. 

They were the original inhabitants of the planet we seemed to be headed for; and lost a very costly and violent war…so we humans aren’t the only ones who fight each other.  There is very little land on the planet with most of the structures were built on fabricated islands.  Their planet had more land but with their own version of global warming, most of the land is now under water.  All drinking water on the planet is manufactured on the islands.  

Reading on, I learned that the planet was otherwise quite similar to Earth.  People worked, slept, bought things at stores and markets.  It appears they did not want for anything as, the basics – food, clothing, shelter, communications and basic transportation etc. were free.  There was luxury, but it came at a price for labour or knowledge.  Very like Earth in almost every way except a little more evolved in how they dealt with poverty.   

There was so much more to learn like government structure, conflict resolution and why the fuck were we here?  But I was exhausted.  I had avoided looking at Larson before now.  She had been reading over my shoulder, but she too had become exhausted.  We were both still scared about what was happening and why and no matter how much I hated her on Earth, right now she was the only friend I had, and we were in this together.   

We looked around the room to see if they left us clothes to change into.  I asked the wall and it did not understand ‘pyjamas’, of course, but then Larson said, “sleep clothes”.  Simplicity was never one of my strong suits, but the wall opened several doors and there were clothes of all types including loose fitting bed clothes that appeared on shelves in the wall.  That was very cool I thought. We both grabbed a satiny pant and wrap shirt both grey and I took off my shirt which still had blood on it, whose I wasn’t sure and if I thought too much about it I would fall apart. 

.  Larson went behind the half wall to undress and dress.  She needn’t have bothered as there was a mirror that reminded me, bitch that she is, she really is the fairest of them all.  Her figure was proportional in all the best ways.  She wasn’t very tall but a comfortable height for someone 6 feet tall to kiss.  I tried to look away, but I had a year of wondering, forcing me to stare.  Her breasts were large but not droopy, which made her seem younger than she was.  Her bum, without clothes, was better than it was with clothes… which in my limited experience was not always the case. 

Suddenly I realized she was looking back at me.  She didn’t say anything but gave a tiny smile like she knew I would look and that is exactly why she chose to change where she did. 

The beds were twin sized and there were two of them but there was no way in hell either of us were going to be that far apart…not tonight.  Like a child getting ready for a bedtime story she flew across the room, got under the shimmering blanket and pulled my side open for me.  I climbed in like a child afraid of the dark and reached an arm around my enemy and we fell into an uneasy sleep.  Tired from all the recent events and exhausted from fear and trepidation, we drifted off both hoping all this was just a dream. 

When I woke with all the bells and buzzers going off, we were still in the same spooning position, we were through the night.  As Larsen rolled over I had a face full of blond hair and a hand full of boob.  She just simply said, “Easy there tiger…I don’t think you’re there yet,” and gently moved my hand to her side. 

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly.  She told me not to worry about it and joked that if I wanted to, I could feel her up another time. 

Just then the door opened and Captain Nyarma in her bright yellow uniform told us in nearly clear English, as we heard it, to stop having sexual relations, get dressed and get something to eat.  She said we were just hours away from her home planet and now that the translator was working properly we could find out why we were here. 

We picked out our white skin-tight uniforms and walked over to an opening in the wall that we deduced was the shower.  Larson let me go first to see if I survived.  I got in and a cold steam covered me which must have had soap in it as, just after it was done a warmer spray of steam covered me followed by the ultimate blow dry.  Beginning to end it was about a minute and a half.  I grabbed the uniform and it was surprisingly easy to put on.  It had the appearance of vinyl, but it was soft like a taffeta.  It conformed but it didn’t strangulate.   Just then Larson came out with her uniform on and it still looked like body paint.  My hatred for her skipped a moment as we walked down the hall to the mess. 

Breakfast was strangely familiar with a roll of protein that tasted very much like an egg and a meat-like substance that had the properties of bologna.  I had always thought bologna was a universal constant and now I was proven right.  At least it wasn’t Spam…. I think.  There was warm liquid which certainly didn’t taste like coffee.  In fact, its closest Earth relative was Neo Citron.  It was a bit sweet, but I drank it none-the-less.  They also had this thing they called “starchen” which tasted like bread.  If they just had butter, it would have been perfect. 

Not long after breakfast a girl with delicate facial features and an absolute rockin’ bod…not that we are supposed to notice these things…came in and told us that the Captain was looking for us.  So, we followed her back to the bridge and they gave us a terminal, which like all the others, just looked like a grey wall.  As we sat down the lights came on and we both started to realise just how real all this stuff was.  We weren’t in Kansas and there was no creepy old guy behind the curtain.  My slippers were not made of ruby and clicking my heals was not going to get me home. 

Everything happened so fast that I had forgotten that this was real.  It was really happening.  I had been on a whirlwind since my dad died and now it was hitting me.  Elton John’s Rocket Man started playing in my head and I felt very alone with only the person who ruined my life there to commiserate with me. 

The captain came over and asked if I was alright and I assured her I was.  “Good,” she said, “Now we can get back to the reason you are here…for war!”  

Chapter 9 Corana 

The English on the screen was nearly flawless now.  The computers had discovered that not only was it a language of long ago visitors which intrigued me, but it was also the predominant language of the Eusalon Mercenaries.  Given that most of our original captors were from Earth, it made sense. 

There were two solar systems both with one continuously inhabited planet.   One was the Eusalon system with two inhabited moons and several small asteroid sized rocks floating through space.  There were over a billion life forms on Eusalous One and a few hundred thousand on each of its moons.  The life forms on Eusalous One were humanoid but they looked more like E.T. than they did people.   The Refugee moon as they described it was filled mostly with former Earthlings…. yes the screen said ‘Terrans’ but I refuse to use that term.  The planet also had a number of former Coranians who had been programmed for mercenary work.   

The Coranian System had seven large planets which apparently acted as a shield for both Corana and the Eusalons.  Corana was the third planet from its sun like Earth but the other planets in the system were either the same size or bigger.  The last planet, Solaria actually overlapped the Coranian system and for almost a year, every 10 years, it was inside the Eusalon solar system.  It was quite beautiful in the night sky Larson observed.  “It looks like a small travelling sun,” she said as it seemed to glow with just enough light to make it visible. 

The problem was it was mined by both planets for what the computer called Medianite and Solarianite.  The two elements were almost completely inert but when combined they are intensely volatile.  The ship we were on, the weapons and most of the energy used on both planets relied on it.  And only miniscule amounts were needed of each element for a very large reaction. 

Corana had given mining rites to Eusalous while it was in the Eusalon solar system and up to an Earth year before and an Earth year after.  The rest of the time it would be mined by Corana and Eusalous would have to purchase Medianite and Solarinaite at a reasonable price. 

Corana being much smaller, population wise, had less need of the elements.  Eusalous One, with its higher demand, feels it needs unrestricted access to the elements and have been amassing a mercenary army to back up their claims.  Eusalon people would not dirty themselves with killing or war so naturally they needed people to do it for them.  Except for the hierarchy, no Eusalon has contact with the mercenaries and no mercenaries are permitted on Eusalous One.   

Chapter 10 The Mission of the Sacred Heart 

Nearly 200 Earth years earlier the Coranians were explorers and as they headed to the outer reaches of the solar system, they discovered a portal or perhaps a stable black hole which allowed them to travel to another galaxy and a different solar system.  They called their exploration ship the Sacred Heart (it meant something different to them…essentially that the heart was sacred not a religious symbol).  The same name as the ship we were on except this one was clearly more like an ocean-going Frigate…It had weapons and it carried short range shuttles and a lot of people. 

The original Sacred Heart was smaller and saucer like with a clear mission.  Go to the newly found solar system and observe but do not make contact with the people that live there.  Earth is a beautiful blue planet with a similar atmosphere to Corana and Eusalous.  And, like Corana it had more water than land.  The blue skies and green spaces with pockets of fresh water were so much more beautiful than they had ever expected.  But when you touch down things were different there.   

Human beings were killing other human beings because they looked different or had something the other wanted.  The wars between the humanoids and the aquatics on their own planet was nothing like this. The humanoids had come from a distant star and decided to settle on land masses on Corana.  The Aquatics were concerned for the protection of land and space. Both sides fought for existence and ultimately how they would share resources.  The conflict was short lived and although there are continued discussions, it was resolved that they would do so in peace. A new conflict was arising as the living standards of the Aquatics is much different than the humanoids.   

The first place they touched down was somewhere in the midwestern United States.  The land was dry but not entirely inhospitable.  They left the ship to examine the local people more closely.  It was felt, by some, that objective observation would not tell them enough, so they had to be somewhat subjective.  To see what life on Earth was like without identifying themselves as not being from the planet.  The language barrier must have been tough although no mention was made of it.   

Against orders, one of the crew of the Sacred Heart befriended an Earth female in her teens.  Somehow, they were able to connect and became close.  Although the crew’s original orders had been compromised the subjectivity of a relationship with an Earth person was undeniable.   

The crew found local clothing and blended in to a degree.  The ship replicated some money and they found the more they spread it around, the more they were popular amongst the locals.  There was an Earth male called Bobby who had more than a passing interest in the teen girl that hung around with the young female crew member of the Sacred Heart.   

The two young women went shopping together to get ‘more respectable’ clothes for the crew member.  There were few aliens in 19^th century America so the girl just assumed that Nan’ya, the crew member, was from Sweden. 

“Those clothes aint fittin’ the teen said, “You can’t go around showing your privates and nethers in America.  They’ll call you a whore or a deviant.”  The girl insisted. 

Nan’ya did not completely understand but the gist of it was that she needed to buy a dress.  At the haberdashery, Nan’ya removed her uniform in the middle of the store which caused an uproar but the Earth teen was able to calm things down by saying she was a Swede and was not familiar with the ways of America.  They then found suitable dress and the teen took her to the change room.    The two girls went in and the young American helped her on with her dress.  In close quarters the girls pressed hard against each other and the teen kissed Nan’ya.  There was no denying the connection they had, and perhaps had it been a century or two later it would not have mattered.  But the girl ran out of the change room and fled the town. 

As Nan’ya paid for her dress, a man with a star on his shirt looked at the shopkeeper and she said, “This is her…she and the Jones girl were touchin’ each other and kissing like they were boyfriend and girlfriend.” 

“Well we don’t cotton to no lezybeens around these parts,” the Sherriff said. 

With gun in hand the Sherriff edged Nan’ya out of town and onto the hills.  We don’t really know what he intended to do but the teen Earth girl ran up behind him so fast that he turned and fired and accidentally shot her.  Nobody on the Sacred Heart really knew if the girl died or not.  Just as the Sherriff bent over the girl, her would-be lover, Bobby who had been waiting for the girl on top of the hill, shot Nan’ya in the stomach and she died in a few minutes.  The rest of the crew were close enough to see what had happened. 

The mission of the Sacred Heart was deemed a failure and they returned home with a story of the most violent people in the known universe.  They kill each other and anyone else who gets in their way.  They love violence and pain and seem to thrive on it.   

There had been a long-standing rumour that the original humanoids came from Earth, but these people were violent and while similar in appearance, their temperament was vastly different.  One could not argue the obvious similarities and where else, but Earth could this bipedal hairless ape evolve from?  It was a source of embarrassment for all non-aquatic Coranians that not only did they look like they arrived from Earth some time ago, but they were of the same species as the mercenaries captured by Eusalous.   

There began to be questions about the temperament of  the land based Coranians and their potential for ‘unwelcome’ behaviour.  A new conflict was arising as the living standards of the Aquatics is much different than the humanoids.  This conflict had been fueled by the Eusalons and suspicious terrorist activities in which both sides seemed to blame the other. 

Ironically, the growth of the mercenary forces had shelved the petty differences for now.  They had a common enemy and that enemy had almost twice as many soldiers as they had. 

The Eusalons were intrigued by the stories of violence of the earth people and had been visiting Earth on a regular basis to determine the extent of the violent behaviours and what triggered it.  They determined that there were sexual triggers to violence with both domination and rape fantasies in both genders that they could manipulate.   

To keep their experiments under the radar they captured indigents and occasionally the wrong type…a working person or a farmer who the locals would say were suffering from mental illness.  They knew nothing of space travel or of other species in the universe.  They were the perfect victims as so long as the Eusalons didn’t get greedy, no one on Earth would miss someone who ventured out in the middle of nowhere, or town indigents who suddenly disappeared.  They would be presumed dead and the Eusalons could build their Army with violent Earthlings rather than dirty themselves with armed conflict. 

Eventually, the Mercenaries would become self sustaining and as long as they didn’t deviate from protocol, they would never be detected.  The mercenaries were controlled by constantly available resources, being rewarded for their work and if need be a nanobot that would entrench itself on the violent, lust and desire centres of the brain.  While Eusalons for the most part were a good people, the idea that they would never again have to sully themselves with war and conflict, was almost too good to be true.  Even more they would be transferring that responsibility to a people who loved conflict and even thrived on it.  A win win for both Eusalous One and Earth. 

“I get all that and I’m not sure they are wrong.  And I get that they have captured mercenaries to do their bidding and to have total free access to the minerals on Solaria…but I don’t get why we are here.  We are not indigents.  One of us is a respected scientist and the other is someone who steals from a respected scientist.” Davis said.  At that Larson hit him hard on the shoulder and Davis just smiled. 

Captain Natelly Nyarma answered quickly before any one else did as she walked over from the centre console on the bridge to where they were sitting.  “We believe that rather than use you as mercenaries, they were going to use your abilities to make weapons.” 

“But our technologies are vastly inferior to what you have.”  Larson said simply. 

“But imagine if you had superior facilities, access to faster and better equipment and better minerals and resources to play with.  Couldn’t you do a lot more with that than you could back on Earth?  Remember these people know nothing of conflict, weapons and how to wage a war.  The knowledge you provide could be invaluable.” Captain Natelly said like she had been waiting to tell us this for a while. 

And then there was the million-dollar question, “Are we stuck here then?”  I asked not sure I even wanted an answer. 

“It is not my Government’s way to take people against their will. We will take you home as soon as we are able.  But I must caution you it could be a while as we don’t know what is coming or when its coming.  We will try as soon as can to return you to Earth.”  Captain Nyarma said.  “In the meantime, you are guest of the Coranian people and are welcome to look around and explore the ship and the planet which we will be arriving at shortly.” 

Larson and I just looked at each other and said simultaneously, “we’re going home.”  We even kissed and hugged.  But I still wanted to throw her out of an airlock. 

Chapter 12 Corana 2 

A few hours later The Sacred Heart and all of us on her were slowing down as we came up to the planet.  Looking through a large porthole, it really was like Earth in that it was predominantly blue with just specks of brown and green.  Ahead of us, just off the Port bow, was a docking ring with a large see thru tether that went all the way down to the planet.  So much for ‘beaming down’ I said to no one. In side the tether was a multi level elevator.  As I was admiring the technology the Captain came over to explain.  “It takes a lot of energy to get a ship this size into space as we, (um) park? it up here and travel back and forth on the sky-vator.  We also use it for supplies and visits for those who are stuck on board.  We have to keep a small compliment up here just in case of attack or problems with the ship.” 

“That looks harrowing,” I said trying badly to sound like I was not scared shitless of the sky-vator. 

“It rests on a cushion of air and while it drops pretty fast at first, its perfectly safe.” Natelly Nyarma said trying to reassure me.  “You will be provided all the materials you need on the surface.  Our Primary Leader has been anxious to meet you.”  The Captain said with a bit of warning in her eyes.  Military people and politicians traditionally don’t see eye to eye so hopefully it was just that. 

As we got on the elevator on the last level it took several minutes to an hour for the shore leave bunch to get on the levels below us.   We sat down on the benches that looked rather like a bus and were told to strap in.  The Captain went with us, but she looked as concerned as we were. 

The door closed, and we were weightless.  I grabbed Larson’s hand as she was flailing for mine and we began to fall.  The fall was long, and the speed was horrendous.  I was glad I hadn’t eaten much as it would have been on the ceiling along with Larson’s and a few other people who I had not even noticed had got on.  All I knew is that my screams and Larson’s vomit were firmly in the ceiling. 

Once again, the Captain came to our rescue as somewhere around the 15000 feet mark we began to slow down.  She grabbed a tarp and threw it over the three of us and laughed as the vomit landed on the tarp.  Larson looked upset, but the captain grabbed her other hand and told her it happens all the time even to people that do it a lot. 

We were bouncing now on the cushion of air that was slowly deflating and allowing us to the ground.  Each floor below us got out before we did, and it took nearly as long as it did loading.  I could see the ground now and there were both Coranian and Aquatic male and female soldiers lined up in formation and a man with a wide brimmed hat trimmed with platinum that I assumed was the Primary Leader. There was a long walkway of white carved rectangular stone that lead to a tall building that curved in to the sky about 100 floors.  It was narrow with blue siding between glass windows.  It must be either the seat of government or their defense headquarters.  There was a wider building beside it that was hanger-like in size and type.  All around was water.  

As we got off the elevator I could see more people than I saw at first.  And the smell of the air was like home, humid but not hot and just fresh enough to make you forget you were in a populated area.  There were small hover ships, small one-person units and many alien-to-me people just trying to get a glimpse of the Earthlings. Many of them probably wondering why we looked so similar.  The Captain introduced us to the Leader of the Aquatic Peoples of Aquaria…their name for Corana. 

“How do you do?” I said. 

“I do very well”. The Aquatic leader said coarsely and abruptly. 

“May I introduce…” 

“No may not…your captain will.” She said tersely  

The Captain then introduced Larson and the Aquatic leader spoke without looking at either of us.  “We are a forward and abrupt people, but we are kind hearted.  We allow the Land Thieves to remain and even speak for us but do not be fooled, we only allow it.  We are not entirely happy with your recapture as your presence may bring the mercenaries down on us.”  The Leader of the Aquatics explained her lack of joy in seeing us and that the Coranians and the Aquatics did not get along as well as we were told. 

“See, you steal someone’s planet and they get all angry and stuff.” The primary Leader joked in perfect English.  He was a bit older than I had expected since most of those we had encountered so far were in their 20s and 30s.  This man was obviously in his 60s in Earth terms.  He was jovial and had an aura of intelligence.  

“If you are wondering about how I speak your language, my grandmother had learned it from the ancient Land Thieves as The Aquatics call us.  It was said that people had come from your planet as captured slaves in what would be your 1800s and were left here to fend off the Aquatics and make a home for themselves.  In other words, they were left here to die.  On that cheery note I would like to introduce you to our leader’s circle.”   

The Primary Leader introduced each member of his inner circle cabinet one by one with names I would never remember anyway.  There were about ten men and women in their 40s and 50s who were all dressed in colourful toga like garb.  The last one I met was not like the others.  His name was Dennison…a very human name for a very human looking person.  He was the planet’s chief engineer, which I though was strange for the inner circle. 

“Its nice to meet you and I know your probably wondering how I can speak English.  I was one of the first mercenaries and was left for dead as space travel did not suit me, the Coranians picked me up and I have been with them ever since.” Dennison said so matter-of-factly that I thought it was rehearsed.  “I am working on an engine now if you would like to see it later.”  Dennison asked somewhat suspiciously like he was pretending that was not the reason he was there in the first place 

Larson and I both suspected there might be anterior motives for our being here but now I was sure and bet she was as well.  That said I was eager to explore their technology and find out how they were so easily able to get to space and even other solar systems. 

“We would love to!” Larson and I said simultaneously. 

“Good, after all this pomp and pageantry crap, we can get to work,” Dennison said quickly. 

I leaned in to Larson and whispered, “Maybe now we’ll find out why we are really here.” 

“I was thinking the same thing,” she whispered back. 

Larson reached for my hand as were being led into the tall building I saw from the elevator.  I still hated her gets but I was glad not to face any of this alone. 

We were led to a large conference room which had a balcony above a water section where the Lead Aquatic took her place. 
We were back to translators now.  “I have been asked or was it forced…?” The crowd laughed at the Leader’s sudden honesty “to introduce these two people from Earth who were rescued by our defense forces before they were turned into mercenary slaves.  Although I personally believe it was a mistake to offer them sanctuary, a majority of this Parliament disagreed with me.  I never-the-less welcome them to our planet, our parliament and our solar system.” The leader said without a shred of emotion. 

There was a loud thumping of chairs and water slapping from the assembled guests as we were all led up to a podium on the steep sided Parliament with a massive water hole in the centre of it.   

“Honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen of the assembly, may I present Dr. Davis and Dr. Larson,” The Primary said in his native language. 

It was then that it occurred to me that I would have to speak. 

“Greetings from Earth,” I said to a few guffaws and smiles.  “Dr. Larson and I are propulsion engineers, and both have PHds in Physics.”  The crowd was dead now.  I killed them with Phds and Physics.  “We were scientists on our planet trying to make the universe a little smaller by getting people through it faster.”  They started to understand now.  “We were taken against our will by mercenaries from a planet near to you.  Some of the people captured were abused, raped and beaten.  In this or any other universe there is no excuse for this behaviour and we thank God, however you see him or her, for the kindness and mercy of the crew of the Sacred Heart.”  I wasn’t going to ask if there was anything I could do for them because I had a feeling that is real reason we were there. 

Larson however, was more than willing to offer our services without thinking or hesitation.  “I know I speak for Dr. Davis when I say we will do whatever we can to help you in anyway that we can.” 

I wasn’t sure that was true but rather than get killed by a lynch mob I nodded reluctantly.   

The Primary then led us away to a boardroom with chairs and tanks that went through the floor for the Aquatics to swim up to.  They could spend time on land but since the “Land Thieves” were guests on their planet like North Americans were guests on native soil back on Earth, it seemed fair that the Aquatics would not have to adjust themselves for our benefit. 

The Primary began in English.  “My people have been space-capable for a millennium.  In that time, we have explored our solar system and the adjacent one.  By a fluke we discovered a fairly-stable worm-hole to your part of the galaxy.  The people looked and acted much like the Eusalons at that time and captured many of your people and brought them here, so we could take Aquaria as our own.  With the brute force and callous disregard for life of the Earthlings, we were able to stay on this planet.  What they didn’t count on was that the Earthlings would not be content with a few mounds of dirt surrounded by water and they turned on their captors who had their roots on Eusalous-Prime and wiped them out.  They fought the Aquatics for more space and were industrious enough to expand artificial land formations all over the planet.  So, if you find us eyeing you with suspicion that could be why.”  

“For 200 years,” he continued, “it has been illegal for a Coranian to visit your solar system.  The Eusalons on the other hand have spent the last 200 years building a mercenary army with what best can be described as rejects on your world.  That was until you!  Our spies managed to find a communiqué that said they were now actively looking for scientists who could make the most out of the elements found on Solaria.  These 2 elements when combined make for a horrific explosion and could be used as both a propulsion system and a deadly weapon.  Specifically, they were after you two since you had done similar work on Earth using different elements that reacted violently enough to create thrust.”   

The Primary was well informed, and he knew exactly why they were on Coraina.  

“We won’t compel you or sexually torture you to get involved since, like it or not, you and your planet are involved already.  All we are asking is for you to look at what we have and tell us, if you think its right, how to make it better.” The Primary Leader asked politely. 

“So, in other words ‘since you are kidnapped anyway why not make the most of it while you’re here’?”  I asked with just a hint of sarcasm. 

“Pretty much…yes.” He said flatly.   

At least the stories between Captain Nyarma and the Primary Leader were similar, so I guess I felt relieved that we were not being duped.  More importantly I was starving.  My stomach was asking for food on its own. And I was starting to get a little testy, “Don’t you people eat on this f’n planet?” 

No sooner had I said the words and we were brought to an amazing hall with desks along the side and a massive pool in the middle for the Aquatics. It was like a stadium with a pool in the centre of it with desks peaking out of the water. Thankfully and perhaps a bit ironically, we were brought fish.  Ours was breaded and cooked while the Aquatics preferred theirs living.  It tasted, for all the world, like lobster on our planet so I ate like a pig.  Larson was never a big fish eater, but she ate it and did not complain. 

After dinner I had what apparently was an odd request…some clothing to go swimming in.  They took measurements and came back an hour or so later with a very sheer one piece for Larson and a pair of swim shorts for me.  From their data base this is what humans wear to swim in. 

We got ready for the water which made the Aquatics very happy but the land based Coranians were a little upset. 

After getting dressed we ran down past the desks in the big hall laughing and screaming like 2 teens who had just discovered water.  We jumped in forgetting we were on a different planet and the water might be a bit chilly on a mostly water planet.  It was.  My genitals were in my chest and Larson looked like she was frozen solid.  We were welcomed by our Aquatic friends but like screaming for help after the Titanic sunk, our hellos came out like HH.  

It took a while, but we got used to it.  Larson grabbed my bum like a porn star in the throws and just said, “Please I need you to keep me from freezing to death”.  

We spent the next 40 minutes or so frolicking in the water much to the joy of the Aquatics and the frustration of the land based.  The water was mostly fresh with just a hint of minerals and while we made no attempt to see how deep it was, there was a good thirty feet below us and 15 feet on the perimeter of the building which was the size of a stadium back home.  Just small pillars kept the building from sinking. 

Although we really did just want to go swimming, the Aquatics had warmed to us and splashed and played in the water like kids at the shallow end of the YMCA pool.   

Eventually we were too cold to continue and were hauled out of the central pool by unimpressed security people.  We were then frogmarched to a place where we could change.  It was a massive room like the finest hotel on Earth.  Heck they even hid their toilet cycles behind an actual wall.  As we passed each green foil wall, various things came in to view such as a dresser for clothing, mirrors or cameras with huge screens, the bathing room complete with shower, bath, and toilet cycle. 

More than anything I wanted a warm shower and this one was quite accommodating as each time I said warmer, the water did just that.  It was border line too hot when I saw a hand come through the shower stall opening and Larson asked if she could share. 

Men are vile and contemptable beasts as when your worst enemy asks if she can share your water and you should be thinking “Go to Hell”, your genitals answer for you and say, “yes come in!”  It was shallow, but it was either this or a ride on the happy bike. 

Larson wasn’t in the shower for than a few seconds before I was inside her.  We had waited a year or so for this moment, but it was like this had nothing to do with that.  This was guttural and urgent but not romantic in any way.  We were both merely taking a ride on the happy bike of humanity.  She was gorgeous but even that part didn’t matter.  The moment of joy was scalding from the inside and so intense it caught both of us by surprise. 

Larson turned back away from me and I washed her hair and her back because frankly I had no words.  Her kiss of reality brought us both out of our dreamscape and we were 2 people from Earth trapped on the same planet by ourselves again. 

We both got dressed without saying a word and waited for someone to either bring us more food or take us out of the room.  That’s when we discovered that food and booze were as important to these people as they were to us back on Earth.  In one corner by the door as we walked over there were warm and cold plates of odd but pretty good food and a lot of spirits, one of which tasted exactly like Southern Comfort or as I prefer to call it, the ‘ambrosia of the gods’. 

Larson had another quality which might have changed my mind on how evil she was…She was a Southern Comfort drinker.  We started to get blitzed when there was a buzz at the door.   

The Primary Leader, The Leader of the Aquatics and the engineer, old man Dennison came through the door a few minutes after realizing we didn’t know how to open it.  We could see them standing in the hall outside our door, but they could not see us, and we did just about did everything but walk to the door which is what makes it open. 

Out of desperation, I walked toward the door and it opened.  “Sorry were we interrupting something?” The Primary Leader of the planet Corana asked as if it was his business. 

“No not at all we were just exploring food and drink at the bar.” Larson responded before I could get a chance to say anything.  “We found something rather reminiscent of a drink we have on Earth called Sourthern Comfort.”  Larson explained while we might look a bit tipsy. 

“Ah probably Solarius Sweet” The engineer offered without being asked. 

As we all sat down more chars appeared out of the floor and the walls to accommodate our visitors.  A wall of water appeared around the Aquatic leader who then sat down. 

“We were not going to bother you in your new home for a few solar turns…(days) but it has come to our attention that an expeditionary force of Eusalon mercenaries is headed our way…” 

“So, if you’re going to help us, we need that help soon…,” the old engineer interjected.  

“Right, I wont sweet coat it, but we need your help.  Starting tomorrow morning, you and Dennison will go to the arms creation facility and hopefully you’ll be able to tell us what we are doing wrong.  We probably have a month before the expeditionary force gets here and roughly 2 months before a full-scale invasion.” The Primary Leader had been speaking but even the Aquatic was nodding his head.  

“Back on Earth I had made a very conscious choice to not let my designs be used for military purposes.  I was making a better propulsion system and that was all.  Why in the name of all that is Holy would I want to change that just for you people?  I like your hotel and so far, I like the people, but I hate the notion of killing.”  I guess I knew I would help them, but I didn’t want it to seem like it was easy.  

“You have seen what the mercenaries do first hand. They rape and destroy without conscience.  They have been programmed to kill.” This surprisingly came from the Aquatic who had been silent up to that point. 

“I have seen that up close and very personal but at the same time one of them is my long-lost mother and another is a girl who just never got a break.  I must believe there is still some humanity in both of them.  Some point of redemption that could bring them back from wherever they are now.”  I think I was pleading for me as much as them at this point.  I knew there just didn’t seem to be a way to bring them back, but I still had hope. 

Larson spoke up “I don’t know if there is a way to restore their humanity or not.  I saw a girl tortured and raped just a few feet away from me and that girl you said, ‘never got a break’ happily helping them rape her.  Besides helping these people might be a step closer to getting home and I am willing to do whatever is necessary to achieve that.  I want to go home, find a way to stop the kidnappings and start trying to make our crappy world better, so people don’t see being a mercenary as a better choice than life.” 

I hate myself for saying this, but Larson was right.  Anything that brings us closer to going home is our own best interests.  If I had to help them to develop the machinery that would facilitate that then so be it.  I was resolved as to what I should do but the hesitation was too much for Larson. 

“God damn it Davis, I know you are opposed to war.  Well believe it or not so am I.  But I am a realist.  Sometimes these things happen.  We have been forced to encounter a conflict that is not of our choosing and has nothing to do with us, but we are caught in the middle.  And I don’t know about you, but I am not keen on helping rapists and murderers. We need to do something and if these people think we can help them and we can then we have a moral obligation to them to try.  Reigning murder and rape on a people just to keep our integrity intact is deplorable.  You left the space program because you thought I was going to take everything you did and make it into a weapon.  It didn’t happen because no matter what I told the assembled generals, I was thinking exploration and willing to do or say anything to keep us, you and me exploring.  But you didn’t trust me.  I thought you were in love with me and you didn’t even trust me to play their game while we player ours.  You broke my heart when you left, and I hardly did anything afterwards because without you the excitement was gone.  Now here we are again, and an odd set of circumstances and fate has brought us back together.  But this time I am begging you to trust me.  We need to do this.”  There were tears in her eyes and after all that I had accused her of, I think she was with me all along.   

I started to well up myself as I realised how much time we had lost and how much love had taken a back seat to anger. Larson’s impassioned plea only brought a one-word response from me: 

“Okay.” I said.  Anything more would have brought out a year or so of missing emotion and as Captain Spock said, “Please Captain, not in front of the Klingons.” 

The leaders looked at us evidently uncertain about what had just transpired. 

“We would be happy to help you in anyway that we can.” I said to clarify. 

The Leaders and Dennison soon left us and we were alone for the first time not as co-workers, people from the same planet, people scared and alone, not even as friends, but alone for the first time as lovers of each other.  My nerves were getting the better of me.  I didn’t know what to say but if there was an elephant in the room, I was carrying it. 

“First I want to say I’m sorry…” I began but was halted immediately. 

“Stop there,” Larson said, “Anything else you say would probably piss me off and I don’t feel like feeling that way right now.” 

From that we looked at each other for an hour-long minute and kissed for the first time as people who love each other.  I was still scared, and I am sure Larson was too, but we were communicating on a cellular level and we just melted into each other in a form of euphoria that transcends place and time.  I had heard of such things but up until now I really didn’t think it existed except in a William Goldman book about a princess. 

We giggled more than we talked and years of walking around each other just washed away.  We had just become that irritating couple that everyone hates, the kind that care about each other and nearly everything is a romantic moment to them.  I would have hated us too but there we were.  Far from home and totally in a pair bond relationship with pheromones causing a basic form of bipolar disorder. Or, as some call it, we were in love. 

Chapter 12. The Dennison Turbine 

The next day we were taken to a huge floating building that made the Boeing factory look like a 2-car garage.  Its mass was as impressive as the fact it seemed to float above the water.  The Primary Leader and the Earthling mercenary engineer were waiting for us. 

Behind an impressively thick glass was a very large engine.  They obviously had been working on it for some time, but I could see at a glance it was an epic fail.  

“You’re not using your components to their maximum efficiency.” Larson said without hesitation. 

The keys are making maximum use of pressure and compression.  You’re igniting volatile gas but that is not the best way to take advantage of what you called Medianite and Solarianite.” I said offering my opinion. 

“What do you mean?” Dennison asked 

“Well Mr. Dennison…” I started 

“Call me Doc please…all these people do, and they don’t even know why.” 

“Ok Doc then, If you pressurize the gasses you can use the escaping pressure to power a compressing turbine and after compressing it, igniting it should give you a huge yield of energy. 

Solarianite was very easy to compress.  Just a pump and a whole lotta cold.  The medianite was more difficult.  It required more refining but in the end, its solid frozen state expanded at a massive rate with just regular heat.  The first part of the process was done, now all we had to do is compress the two together and ignite a force that wants to blow up anyway.  It was a damn site harder than it sounded. 

We had worked 12 hours without stopping.  It was a hazard for both of us, getting caught up in the work.  Most of the Coranians had left and there was just Doc, Larson and myself.  Doc ordered food which was a benefit as we were starving.  He said, “Trust me on this, this is as close to hamburger as you can get on this planet.  If you can ignore the fact its made from some sort of vegetable, its really not that bad.” 

We ate our hamburgers and condiments that while not mustard and ketchup, came pretty close. 

As I was sitting there a design idea came to me.  If you take the compressed medianite and the compressed solarianite; put them in a tube sequentially, they would go off like a gun.  The explosion could project the string of energy and act like a pulse laser. 

I wasn’t sure yet if I was going to bring it up.  After all my primary concern at this point was getting back home. But I could not help but feel a bit responsible for whatever happens to them, since they did all this – rescuing us from the mercenary kidnapping, teaching us about who and what they are without threat and providing for us – without demands. 

I looked over at Larson and she must have known what I was going to say as she simply said, “are you sure?” 

I nodded and proceeded to explain my weapon theory.   

Doc thanked us and sent us back to the hotel for the night. “We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.  You two better get some sleep.” 

Back at the hotel we each took a drink and kissed and fell asleep.  We were like an old married couple already. 

But in the early morning I found myself buried in Larson’s naked nethers and made her happy twice!  After our shower we got dressed in the surprisingly comfortable white jumpsuits they gave us, had breakfast and went back to the huge floating building.  This time there was no one to greet us but not far away in the huge glass room I had seen before, I saw Doc and an assistant with two compressed tanks and a large tube coming up from both that fed a thin tube of a very strong metal I had never seen before.  Then like a flash too bright to look at, the gun went off blasting through the glass wall like a huge flash and hitting our hotel about ¼ mile away.   

“Looks like it works.”  Doc said, obviously worried that it might have hit someone.  Larson and I just stood there but I am sure both of us were thinking it might be too much. 

“That was quite the test.” I said, “But perhaps someone should call the hotel and find out if anyone was hurt.” 

When Doc came back he looked relieved and said, “It was only the outside of the building.  No major damage inside”. 

One thing for sure is we must come up with a better test if we are going to learn how to control the weapon. 

“Perhaps I can help.” Captain Nyarma said as she walked through the door.  I had forgotten what a lovely woman she was.  She was wearing something like corduroy pants and a loose-fitting shirt similar to a cotton pullover.  Evidently the bra had never been an issue here.   She looked over the design of our weapon and asked how quickly it could be adapted for her ship to be tested where it mattered, in space. 

One of Doc’s assistants said it would not be for a while as they only had just begun testing. 

Looking back at me she asked, “what will it’s range be?” 

“I honestly don’t know but it will have the ability to hit a target from a fair distance.” 

“Then let’s get at it.” Nyarma said.  War is coming, and we have already fired the first volley by stealing you two. 

 Chapter 13:  

Nyarma, Doc, Larson and I spent the next several hours working on a containment barrier for the weapon.  As much as I was intrigued by the idea of using propulsion as part of a weapon, I still felt like I was violating the vary principles I had been living by on Earth. 

The Earth seemed like a long time ago now.  It really had only been a few weeks but the time it took to adjust had gone so quickly, we just didn’t have time to think about where we were or what we were doing.  For me the time was flying because my enemy had become my friend and my friend had become my lover.  It was hard to focus but Larson was so driven it was hard not to follow along. 

We had stacked up every possible steel like plate and hunk of concrete we could find for the weapon test.  This time we were not going to shoot a hotel.  As I reached in to fire the weapon.  Captain Nyarma pushed me out of the way.  “You’re too valuable to get blown up.” 

She was sincere, so I let her fire the weapon.  As it gathered intensity I could see the potential for blow-back from the things we had put in its path.  I grabbed Nyarma just in time as a plate of virtually molten metal came flying toward us. As we fell to the floor, Nyarma started what sounded like sobbing but in fact she was laughing. “That gun is amazing.”  She said still laughing.  “Thankyou for saving my life,” she said looking directly at me.  “But that was amazing,” she said to the others.   

Doc too was laughing and clapping his hands.  “It works, it works!” he kept saying over and over again. 

The only one who looked subdued was Larson.  “We have a weapon, but we have no delivery system.  Its too small for a ship like the Sacred Heart and just wont work on the shuttles like the one that rescued us. We need…” 

“A fighter” I finished her thought. 

“Well an interceptor,” Larson continued, “Something that will work on land, in the sky and in space.” 

It was clear to me then that Larson, more than the rest of us, knew how this conflict would play out.  To take the battle against the mercenaries to its conclusion, sooner or later it would have to be fought on Eusalous Prime.  To impact the potential of this conflict to its conclusion, we would have to take the battle from the mercenaries to the people of Eusalous. 

Otherwise with Eusalous’ superior forces and numbers of mercenaries, the Coranians could not win.  The Coranians knew it and it was clear that Larson and I were the straws they were grasping for. 

I asked for something to draw on and was given a tablet not unlike those we had at home.  I proceeded to draw a top view of the spacecraft.  There would be a large front wing and, on the ends, would be vector control engines that would be the widest part of the craft.  Each wing would fold in the middle for vertical take off and ground firing of weapons. The front and rear wings would be a slimmer arrow coming from the fuselage.  In the front end of the fuselage would be the Medianite and Solarianite mixing tanks including the compressor   

Captain Nyarma comes to help design a small light fast ship that can get past the mercenary forces with minimal detection. 

Chapter 14:  Mercenary attack on Corana kills thousands and Larson is captured 

Chapter 15: Larson after resisting brainwash is publicly tortured and executed as a warning 

Chapter 16: Davis steals a triceptor and takes the war to the Eusalons…awaking them to the cost of war.  Mercenaries are captured by the Coranian ship. Davis and Captain Nyarma become close.  Davis finds out that his raid cost him the lives of his mother and Mandy. 

Chapter 17: Davis must decide to either stay or go home. 

“I’ve had enough of war” 

Mercenary capture ships are destroyed by the Sacred Heart.  Captain asks if Davis needs any help with the marina. 

Epilogue:  Davis’ sister is alive, and she is coming to visit. 

Corana Chapter 2 and 3 Taken, Betrayed Again…Naturally

Chapter 2

 

After a few days, I realised that life had to go on.  The boats still needed fuel and fixing and a dead father seemed to be a meagre excuse for most of the people who relied on us for their amusement.  I loved these people normally but their chronic insensitivity to my pain in the face of getting gas for their pleasure boats was pissing me off.

The solution to my dilemma walked through the door of the marine office just as I was thinking I did not want to do this anymore.  She was tall, statuesque and stunning with long flowing dark hair that had a gentle curl.  The man in me fought desperately not to stare at the perfectly perky pair of boobs barely covered by a Canadian maple leaf patterned bikini top or the tiny blue jean shorts.  She caught me looking and just offered a soft gentle laugh that let me know that she wasn’t upset or uptight.  She told me a few days later that she expected to be looked at when she dressed like that.  If she were a knight that outfit would be her armour.  It made her feel powerful and probably hated by every female on the planet.

Her voice was soft and relaxed as she said, “Hi Davis.”  She acted like she knew me but for the life of me I couldn’t place her.  But she seemed awfully familiar.

“Maybe you don’t remember me; I am Jack’s daughter ….”

“Mandy,” I interrupted finally making the connection.  Jack was my Dad’s closest friend.  He lived on an island in the lake with his second wife whose name I could never remember.  He had been at the funeral but there was no way I would have missed Mandy, grieving or not.  The last time I saw her she was 11 and she and her Mom were moving away to Perth.  Seems Jack found a new model who couldn’t have been much older than Mandy who had to be 20ish by now.  ..A classic mid life crisis gone wrong.  Jack used to hang out here all the time but his new wife wouldn’t be caught dead in a grease pit like this.  My Dad missed him no matter how much of a cad he thought he was, Jack was his best friend.

“Wow, I can’t believe you remembered me after all these years,” Mandy said wondering how.

“Well it was difficult because I thought you had moved away …. The last time I saw you was…..”

“Yeah, I remember,” Mandy interrupted not wanting to relive the pain.  “But I spend my summers with Jack and Lois,” The way she pronounced her stepmothers name and referred to her father as Jack pretty much told me that time had not healed every wound.  “Anyway, I just wanted to come by and tell you how sorry I was about Rod’s ……passing,” there was a long pause as she searched for the right word.  It’s funny but this was the first time since the funeral that anyone had used my Dad’s name.  It felt strange.  Not only had my Dad died but a real person called Roderick Davis had died too.  Mandy started again before the awkwardness could continue.  “Anyhow, Jack wanted me to ask if you needed any help.  I don’t know much about marine engines but I can catch a rope or pump the gas…well after you show me… and you don’t have to pay me,” Mandy added clearly hoping I would not agree to that last part.

“I would love to have you working here.  I can’t pay you a lot but I am sure we could work something out.” I said truly hoping to just toss the whole damn Marina in her lap and walk away.  Mandy seemed like fun, a bit wild and so full of life, she would be a welcome change from the environment of death we had going on for the last 12 weeks or so.

I took her to meet Joan even though Joan really didn’t have a say in the matter.  She was family and I felt obligated to include her in things.  Joan took one look at her and said out loud, “Holy crap she’s gorgeous.”  Then she said in my ear, “If you don’t sleep with her, I will.”  I knew she was mostly joking but I thought I better spoil the party before I found out for sure.

“Ah Joan, this is Mandy….”
“Jack’s daughter,” Joan said sounding a bit disappointed.

Mandy was a bit confused but smiled happily anyway.  Mandy, Joan and I sat down at the kitchen table with Joan still salivating despite the fact Mandy was the daughter of our Dad’s best friend.  She was young enough to be Joan’s daughter and I realised that ‘damn it she was young enough to be my daughter too’.  Of course, she was just a year or two younger than Larsen.  I felt like slapping myself silly for even thinking it.   Mandy caught me leering again and again she laughed when I tried to look away.  Admittedly compared to Joan I was respectful.  Finally, I just called Joan’s name,

“Joan!”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, it’s just that I can’t get over how much you look like your mother.”  Joan said trying to cover the fact she hadn’t even seen a female in about 14 weeks.

“I think my mother is quite pretty,” Mandy said with a smile but obviously trying to diffuse an awkward moment, “So thanks for the compliment.”

Joan replied, “Oh you’re quite welcome.”

Joan turned to me for rescue but I was thinking of just letting her hang herself.  But finally, I interjected, “So I imagine you’d like to know what we want you to do for the marina?”

“Well actually I was enjoying hearing how pretty I am, but if you want to make this all business….” Mandy said laughing.  Joan laughed too much and I just let my eyes do the laughing for me.

“Well I am not sure how early you can get here but we won’t open the shop until then.  Then if you could take care of the cash, manning the pumps which I will show you in a minute and then just keep an eye on the boats making sure they get moored ok…that kind of thing.”  I rattled off her duties as quickly as I could because I kept getting rattled myself looking into those dark blue eyes.  She was a friend’s daughter and I was still filled with complicated emotions about Larsen not to mention she was now an employee but I could not help finding her attractive.

My thoughts betrayed me as she caught me off guard with her next question, “Shall we get started?”

“What?… um oh yeah.”

“You were going to show me a man with cash that I could pump…. Well at least that is the way I heard it.”  Mandy teased.

All three of us burst out laughing.  It was something Joan and I had not done for a few days.  Mandy’s shock humour was just enough to send us into hysterics and we all laughed too long and too hard.

Finally, Joan said, “There is no doubt about it the Marina is in good hands, this girl is hilarious.”  Despite Joan’s initial attraction, now she just genuinely liked the girl.  Despite my attraction, I felt the same way.

Mandy learned her duties quickly but like a comedian on a roll she continued with the innuendo.

“Can you come inside and I’ll show you how it works?”  I asked as we were going in to see the shop cash register.

“Wow you almost never hear a man say that.”

“Can you hold this for me while I turn it on,” I asked as I handed her an oil can that fell from the shelf as I went over to the cash.

“Now there is something I do hear from guys all the time,” Mandy laughed.

I laughed too but I finally said “Oh god I think we have created a monster.”

“You just keep layin’ em out there and I’ll keep knocking them away,” Mandy said using a sports euphemism

“Now there is something you don’t hear girls say that often.”  And we both laughed again.  It was going to be a fun summer.  Mandy was nice to look at and had a warped sense of humour.  The only way to ruin the fun would be for us to get involved so I resolved at that moment it would never happen.

Mandy arrived promptly the next morning wearing a ‘hot girls are people too’ purple tee shirt and a micro mini that I wasn’t sure was covering anything.  One thing for sure she was great for business.  I had never seen a larger collection of middle aged letches and penis head teenage boys in my life.  One of them bought a can of oil and I don’t think he even had a boat.  She learned quickly…I even heard her exclaim to a couple of boys, “If you’re not buying anything you’ll have to leave.”

I was finally free to work on the engines.  There is some satisfaction in taking a broken engine and making it work again.  Over in the corner there was a 50-year-old Evinrude sitting in a test tank that I worked on whenever I had nothing else to do.  A boy named Tim had brought it in to me after he found it in his grandfather’s garage.  It was on an old wooden boat that had more dry rot than wood left.  The boy was lucky to be alive because he rowed that boat about a mile before it literally sank in my dock.  I got the crane on the motor just in time.

As I was working on the motor and tearing it down I started thinking about progressive compression chambers like a jet or a turbine and I started thinking about using many fuels instead of one.  One to power the initial compression reaction for a further compression of something inert that became volatile when compressed.  I had done it.  I had solved the problem that the scientists in the propulsion lab had failed to.  You could hyper compress the fuel use its decompression to fuel the next reaction and so on down the line until the two most volatile fuels mixed to create a cataclysmic reaction.  I wanted to call Larsen and tell her but she had chosen to use my designs as engines of death.  The only thing I could do was build one myself.  If it worked in water with the chemicals I could easily get like hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen, it could work with more sophisticated chemicals.

I would build my super engine later; right now, I had an internal combustion engine to take care of.  It had a cracked cylinder head which had scored up the cylinder pretty badly but it was fixable.  That kid hadn’t been back since the day he almost drowned.  Yet another parts delivery I would probably never get paid for.  I could see why Dad was always such a stickler for half down when he did a major repair…at least his costs were covered.

I peered out the open garage door to catch Mandy thoroughly bent over pumping gas on a small cabin cruiser with two delighted old men enjoying the show and one angry older woman looking disgusted.

“Hey Mandy,” I yelled out.

“Yeah?” She looked up and smiled one of her you’re-a-man-and-I-own-you smiles.

“Do you know a kid named Tim who sunk a boat here?”  I yelled the question wondering if she would find it as dumb as it sounded.

“I should, he is my boyfriend,” Mandy said, matter of factly.

The words hit me by surprise.  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that someone that pretty had a boyfriend but this Tim kid was well young…probably her age as I thought about it.  Now I was having second thoughts about fronting the kid the parts to fix the engine.  He probably couldn’t get his hands on a boat to go with it anyway.  The little schmuck who gets to touch that face, kiss those lips, run his hands through that hair and …..

“Why?” I heard Mandy ask in the background.

“Oh um…just thinking about something,” I said trying to escape my good deed out of pure jealousy.  Mandy was finished her boat fill-up-sex-tease… “and look they gave me an extra 10 bucks,” she said genuinely surprised.

“Imagine that.  Couldn’t be the outfit, could it?” I said under my breath.

“What? No… well a little skin can make a man feel as guilty as sin.” Mandy laughed at her quote from god knows where.  “Anyway, for some reason I feel like I have to explain about Tim and me.”  She offered but I tried to stop her before she finished.

“No, no not at all.  I guess I assumed you didn’t have a boyfriend but I never asked and it really is none of my business.  I mean god knows you are pretty enough but I guess I thought ..well none of these kids would be good enough for you,” I felt like I had turned three shades of purple and  just kept digging myself in deeper.

“So, you think I am that hot?” She asked very pleased at herself for putting me on the defensive.

I just nodded because anything I said here would just make it worse.

“Tim lost his father a while ago and now his grandfather.  He looks like he is about 14 but actually he is 18 and lives with his sister and her husband in their grandfather’s old house.  I call him my boyfriend ‘cus we hang out a lot and it helps get rid of some of the boys. But I am older than him and he knows that so it’s really platonic, though there are times when I am sure he would like more than that.  Then again there are other times when I am not sure he is in to girls….He has a huge G.I. Joe collection and he notices shoes…what’s that tell ya?”  She laughed to my relief because I was laughing too.

 

Joan could zero in on nervous laughter like no one else I knew.  “What’s going on?” She asked curiously and maybe a little defensively.

“Mandy her has a boyfriend who is in to G.I. Joes and notices women’s shoes,” I said teasing Mandy.

“Oh, poor girl! I was in love with someone who was gay too.  But since she and I were both gay that made it a lot easier.”  Joan was teasing but still flirting rather sadly with the girl who was 25 years her junior.  “What you need to do,” Joan continued “is have an affair with a mature woman.  That will pay the boy back for his preferring the sausage.”

Mandy looked at me before she realised that Joan had just been teasing her which made me laugh even harder.

“It’s not like that,” Mandy protested.  “Tim isn’t really my boyfriend and I don’t know that he is gay.  From the way he looks at me I would say that he isn’t but he does play with dolls and is aware of shoes…”

“Rob, quick without looking, what kind of shoes is Mandy wearing?” Joan asked still teasing.

“Um white ones?”  I really was guessing because I had no idea even though we were talking about shoes.

“See, despite the fact my brother would blow a man to measure the scientific reaction, I know he is not gay.  Only women, gay men and shoe makers actually notice shoes.”  Joan continued until we all were laughing hard.

“Hey I would not blow a guy just to measure his reaction.”

“Yes, you would and then you’d get someone else to blow him to see if the law of diminishing returns holds true in a sexual vane or not.”  Joan’s comment was probably true.  For science, I would probably do almost anything.  Not sure if I would go that far or not but I had done some unusual things to measure a scientific truth.

“I am wearing brown sandals with a small heal, in case you were wondering,” Mandy pitched in.

“Sorry,” I offered

“Don’t be.  I guess I would be more worried if you did know what shoes I was wearing.  I had you pegged as straight and I would have had serious gay-dar issues if you turned out to be gay,” Mandy said still half teasing.

“Anyway,” Joan interrupted, “I was wondering if you two would like to take the big boat, go out to Perth and get some dinner.  I want to talk to both of you.”

I hadn’t even fired up the engine of the cruiser since before Dad died.  I had come in and turned the blowers on and run the bilge pump for a while but I didn’t start it.  The Sacred Heart as Dad named her was built by an Ontario firm called Grew.  She was a 26-foot mahogany lapstreak wooden boat built in the 70s with a small forward vee cabin and a fold away galley table.  As kids, we went on all kinds of trips on her but after Mom disappeared it was only occasionally.  Dad loved the boat; spending every winter re-conditioning the hull and making her sound for the water.

It was the first engine I ever worked on.  The original engine was a 350 Chevy that I had developing over 500 horsepower with a new inboard-outboard using a variable pitch and through the hub exhaust propeller.   My Dad was very proud of the modifications.  Especially proud when his cabin cruiser was blasting past ski boats half its size.

As we gathered up the stuff we need for the trip, I reflected on how far Joan and I had come.  We hadn’t stayed in touch over the years.  She had resentments and so did I but we overcame them all and here we are today as close as any two siblings can be.  My sister was talented.  She kept my Dad strong right up till the end.  It was her strength that allowed him to keep his dignity and not haemorrhage to death.  She was the one who made most of the arrangements while keeping me going at the same time.  I was proud of my big sister.  I had only just found out she was a lesbian and the story of her life was really quite sad.  But she knew me and knew I was afraid of the love that was developing between me and Larsen more than I was angry at Larsen’s betrayal.

She helped me see that I was changed and quite a bit more receptive to what the future might hold.  The engine fired up right away like the heart of my father living inside of it.  I looked around the small marina with its blue painted wooden floating docs, the boathouse in the back where we kept the speed boat, the white and grey marine office where people signed in for overnight docking and bought their supplies; the two big pumps, one with diesel and the other with pure gas and several gas oil mixtures that hardly anyone ever used anymore; the trees that lined the back so you couldn’t even see the  parking lot behind them and behind the boathouse was my house where Joan and I grew up.

I never realised how much I really loved this place.  Joan was right I was just hiding out but now I really felt like I was home.  With Mandy running the marina and me fixing boats and able to experiment and play, I can’t imagine any other place in the world I would rather be.  Joan could come back on the weekends and spend some time here and I would keep the place running.  Sure, there was no trip to Mars, but there was a life and a strange feeling of contentment came over me.  For the first time since my mom disappeared, I felt like I belonged somewhere, right here at home.

 

I untied the boat from the doc cleats and threw the rope on top of the deck.  I thought the lone turquoise border strake that connected the deck to the hull looked a bit dingy and could use a coat of paint.  Dad would have been pissed that I let this go so much.  While the boat just floated, I took down the musty smelling tarp and opened the back deck to the sky.  I revved the engine once and then popped it in reverse for a second then let it coast back.  The Sacred Heart floated back quietly.  I put the cruiser in drive and steered her toward the refuelling doc.  Mandy and her sexy short dress were waiting for me and I tried to divert my eyes as she fuelled the tank.  In this day and age, it is unthinkable to even admire beauty. But since the boat needed gas it would have to be this way…for now!

Things like regular hours and opening and closing times had never been part of the regimen of the marina.  So, it was no issue for Mandy to join Joan and I to just leave.  As the waves pounded gently on the old wooden hull, the boat planed perfectly past the many rich man islands as we traversed the lake.  We pulled up to an old government dock that had seen better days and moored there and we walked the old road into the town of Perth.  We found a nice-looking restaurant and as we walked in past the nautical décor on the walls and waited until each man had a chance to rape Mandy at least once with their eyes before we sat down at a table for 4.

“Before you get too drunk, I just wanted to tell you that it’s time for me to go back to Ottawa.”  Joan said without a hint of smile.  “Now that you have Mandy to run the shop and we’ve had time to grieve.  I think its time to get back to reality.”

“Are you sure?”  I said hoping that she would say no.  “I mean I knew that sooner or later you would want to leave….”

“No, it’s not that I want to leave.  In fact, I’ve really enjoyed this time with my baby brother… getting a chance to re-connect with you has been one of the best times of my life…in spite of why it happened.  But I need to be a nurse, to save lives, to feel useful.  I need to be me again.”  Joan said it like she was asking for permission.

“I understand,” I lied. “I guess I just hate to lose my big sister now that I have found her again.”

“Well that’s just it.  We have reconnected and I will not stay away this time.  I will be back as often as time permits and who knows I might even learn to pump gas or something.  We are not going to lose what it took losing our father to get.  I will be part of your life and nothing you can do will stop me.”  Joan reassured.

The hours sailed by and after a fill of Lobster flown from Moncton to Ottawa and picked up by the restaurant in Perth that very day….I made mine dance and used the claws for castanets…yeah I was hammered…it was awesome.  The three of us had a blast and we somehow staggered our way back to the boat.  I passed out on the transom bed and the girls went down below deck and if I am not mistaken, spent the night getting off with each other.  They must have been in better shape than I was because all I could think of was how the boat was going side to side and I was spinning.  At one point, I covered myself with the musty smelling tarp as I had donated enough blood to the save-the-mosquito foundation.

In the morning, I untied the boat and headed back home.  It felt odd like this might be the last time.  I didn’t know how or why but I had a sense of impending doom and I could not really explain it other than an odd turn in the grieving process.

Just as I pulled up to our dock, Mandy and Joan opened the cabin door, albeit sheepishly, and Mandy handed me a coffee which I was so grateful for, I think. I almost forgot about what sounded like multiple trysts the night before.

I wanted to but I didn’t bring it up and all Joan would say or do is “Thanks for your discretion little brother”. And we left it at that.

Despite Mandy’s pleas for Joan to stay just a bit longer.  Joan left later that afternoon.  I wasn’t sure if it was just that the kid had never had anyone love her and leave her but she seemed insistent until Joan was finally really short with her.

Mandy said, “If you leave now you will never see me or your brother again!”  Joan just smiled and grabbed Mandy into a hug and said, “Trust me you’ll get over it.”  And at that she packed her last suitcase into her car.

I should have asked what Mandy meant but I just chocked it up to youth and forgot about it until much later that night.

 

 

Chapter 3 Taken

Joan and I packed up the rest of her stuff into the car so she could get on her way.  Mandy was nowhere to be found.  It was later summer now so the daylight was leaving early like it had an appointment somewhere else in the world.  It was still hot and humid and I could feel the sweat making my clothes cling like I was using bad dryer sheets.  Or, it might have been the fact that for the first time I would be alone in a place where my Dad had always been an island of peace in a world of tribulation.  Now that my sister was leaving I would have no choice but to miss him and feel truly alone.

I knew I’d keep busy with the boats in the summer and snowmobiles in the winter—there was always gas to pour, engines to fix and gadgets to sell.  It was a simple life that I had opted for and I was going to share with my father for at least another 10 years or so.  Now that he was gone I had no choice but to keep his dream going.

Joan was wearing shorts and a tee-shirt and did not look overheated at all as she gave me a brief hug and said, “I’ll see you soon little brother …. oh, and tell Mandy I’m sorry, I thought she understood it was just a night of fun.”

“I’ll take care of it.” I said knowing I would never say anything to the kid.

“I’ll be back in a few weeks.”  Joan said to the open window as she drove away.

A few months ago, and that would have seemed like a threat and now I was really looking forward to it.  As Joan drove away up through the trees on the long driveway, I went back to the cabin cruiser to putter around and wait for customers. For a while I just looked down into the crystal-clear waters of the Big Rideau Lake and allowed myself a chance to feel sad.  I had been so focused on doing things that this was my first real opportunity to grieve.  I was alone.

 

My melancholy had driven me to a deep sleep under the canopy on the back of the boat.  If there had been any customers, I am sure they were not happy but I had slept so deeply that I actually felt better.  It was very dark now but there were very bright lights coming from the other side of the house.  They looked like police lights and I quickly turned on the radio.  There had been accident, someone had driven off the bridge near the Lake and the lone occupant had not been found.  If it had been Joan, there was a chance she was still alive.  I jumped off the boat and ran to the house but these men and women were not police.  They were wearing uniforms of what looked like thick but pliable plastic and helmets with lights built in.  Just up the driveway was a long jet-fighter sized flattened tube with small glass windows and more of the uniformed people inside.  I think I am just about to be kidnapped by aliens but these were not aliens at all, they were speaking English and looked like soldiers.  I wonder if the damned Americans couldn’t get their missiles to fly properly and were here to take my brain apart…but they didn’t look like Americans either.

As I got closer I still had not been seen.  There was one standing with his back to me with a gun in his hand.  I am not a soldier or even trained in any way but instinct took over and I had knocked the guy over before I knew what the hell I was doing.  He fell with a thud…head first.  I don’t know if I killed him but he did not look well.  I took his gun and as I looked up, coming out of the door of the house was Mandy and behind her was another soldier.  I fired and hit him square in the face.  He went down quickly.  I screamed for Mandy to get down but as I did she lifted her odd-looking small sceptre-like weapon and shot me. The she shouted, “He’s out here,” as I felt myself melt like I had been turned into soup

Unconscious I was apparently taken aboard the ship and thrown into a cage like I was a wild animal.  I had been betrayed, there was a chance that my sister was dead, I was still grieving my father, I had left the radio on in the boat and the person behind it all was being paid minimum wage…. by me!

I was really feeling like things could not get worse as I was still half-dazed but when I opened my eyes I saw a petite lovely young woman in the adjoining cage with her white blouse too far open to be considered professional with weepy eyes that when you looked close at them, sparkled between blue and sometimes green…God how I hated her.

“Hey Davis,” she said without a hint of emotion or a hint of regret or even acknowledging the year that had gone by since we last spoke.  Or even the fact that we were captives on some sort of sky ship headed away from the comfort of the lake and soil that I am guessing now is so far beneath us.

“Ms. Larson,” is all I could say without opening a bag of hatred that I had hoped to use the next time I saw her.

This was now two women who had betrayed me.  Mandy had just shot me with some sort of heat ray gun which although not fatal, wasn’t the most pleasant experience I ever had.  It felt like I was being boiled alive for a second and then I felt nothing.  I think it felt worse that an old family friend could do this but I had to remember that it was her youth and beautiful face and body that made up for the fact that I was a gullible man and I really didn’t know her that well.

As I looked around there really wasn’t anything other-worldly about the ship.  In front of me was a narrow hallway with metal locker-like doors and the cages on the other.  I felt cheated that there wasn’t some sort of force field…just metal cages like the ones they had at the SPCA for large dogs.  There looked to be about 10 cages but only 5 of them had people in them.  Two of the captives were moaning and crying, another was sort of catatonic and just two were curious.

Our captors looked more like cops in green than they did military.  Most looked like they were fit humans in their mid to late 40s.   They wore jumper style flight suits with a shiny black x belt that attached in the middle of their chests.  From that hung the sceptre weapon, a communicator {I assumed} and some sort of scanning device.

My cage was somewhere in the middle of the ship with about 15 feet to the front and to the back.  At the back, I could see Mandy in a mini dress whoring it up with a few older soldiers, laughing and giggling like she was deciding to sleep with all of them at once or just one at a time.  She saw my stare, stopped smiling for a second and went back to being an unconscionable whore.

As looked to the front of the ship I saw someone that made me think I was dreaming and I would wake up with a hang-over and a laugh.  Ten feet in front of me was…. but it couldn’t be…my mother.  First, she hadn’t aged since I was a kid.  Secondly, she had been gone for more than 20 years!  She looked and saw me but it obviously didn’t register who I was and she resumed talking to the men and women around her.  All I could say was, “Mom?” over and over again until the slut who betrayed me was standing in front of me.

As she bent down all I could think of was wrapping my hands around her perfect little neck.  I grabbed but the cage was in the way.  She just smiled and turned around and pulled up her mini skirt and said, “What’s wrong Mr. Davis don’t you still want to DO me?”  Then she started to laugh as she slowly put her thonged butt away and turned back around.

“Jesus Davis, were you robbing kindergartens up there in the north?” Larson said with a sarcastic snicker.

Mandy kicked her cage hard enough that Larson decided that was all she was going to say for now.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re here and where you are for that matter,” Mandy started.

“No, I always begin my vacations with a couple of shootings just before being kidnapped by aliens,” Davis said without a hint of humour.

“First, I would be careful not to remind them if I were you.  You shot a couple of their men and they are not happy with you at all. Secondly, most of us are not aliens…. we’re kind of like mercenaries from Earth representing the planet Usalus….

“The planet useless?” Larson interrupted just before Mandy kicked her cage again.

“Usalus, and this will go quicker if you just let me finish.” Mandy said getting angrier now.  “Most of us are volunteers who were given the option of leaving our troubled lives on Earth and becoming peace and security workers.  It’s a pretty simple job since we don’t have wars to fight.  Usalus has very few enemies except for a border dispute with a nearby planet in an adjacent solar system.  So, we spend our days training for a fight that hopefully will never happen. 

“Why mercenaries from Earth?” Davis asked in spite of himself

“Well that is a funny thing, they found a portal…sort of a black hole… that leads to this galaxy and saw the Earth was the only planet where people fight each other and they decided to take advantage of our war like tendencies.”

“Yay us!” Larson said without getting a boot this time.

Mandy continued, “At first they took homeless people, people from plane crashes….

“The Bermuda Triangle?” Larson interjected again

“Not as many as you might think, Mandy said trying to be patient.

‘Larson, for god’s sake…lets just get through this,” Davis injected not sure whom he was mad at.

“Oh, Sure now he speaks to me.  If you think he is difficult now, try working with him….” Larson started until she realized they were both just staring at her.  “Oh, right sorry…Can’t interrupt or Davis wont get his rocks off with the child,” She muttered under her breath. 

Mandy was getting angrier now.  “First, I would have been more into you than him but even if I did do Davis, which I didn’t…” She was getting flustered now. “Secondly, if I had, it would have been for this mission and nothing else!”  Mandy paused and waited for Larson to say something and then went on.  “Over the years there have been a few …what the Usalans call ‘Reluctants’ but for the most part every one of us is a volunteer.  We left because we just could not stand our lives back on Earth.  You two with the other 3 are our first real Reluctants in a long time.  The Usalan Science Command came across a design for propulsion which involved the mixing of 2 different fuels…

“I am familiar with it…I designed it and she,” Davis said, pointing at Larson, “Stole it.”

“Anyway, they are hoping that you will adapt it to their technology so they can defend their interests better….’, Mandy recited.

“And take more and more people from Earth who may or may not want to go.”  Davis stated the obvious.  “Well I’m excited.  I can’t wait to be part of more kidnappings.” Davis said sarcastically

“Look Mr. Davis you were nice to me…”

“Oh, I’ll bet he was…” Larson muttered and they both ignored it with an eye roll “So I will tell you the truth,” Mandy continued whispering, “They use creatures…that …well… don’t control you but give you that moment of near euphoria and you’ll do anything to feel it.  I’ve seen it happen.   Believe me you don’t want that.  But that is exactly what they will do to you if you don’t cooperate.”  Mandy was back to full volume again.  “But none of that is ever going to happen because you’ll realise you can pretty much have whatever you want whenever you want it.  Except to go home.” As the woman Davis thought might be his mother… except younger… started to walk by, Mandy introduced them.

“And I know you know this lady,” Mandy said still feigning excitement

The woman looked down at Davis and then back to herself and back down again.  “Roger? She asked curiously

“Mom?” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The First Steps to a World Without Money

 

The First Steps to A World Without Money

 

By RR Murchison

 

 

 

It wont take you long after you start reading this to realize that I am not an economist.  Like President Trump, I like to pretend to know more than the experts but realistically I am not sure I can legally fill out a will…that whole ‘sound mind’ thing really gets to me every time.  I wish I knew more but frankly whatever knowledge I have was apprehended on other people’s genius and recognition that just because a guy drives a cab or cuts hair doesn’t mean he or she is not smarter than the people who hide in the forest to get away from the trees.  Experts have the inane ability to reject common sense by saying stupid things like “If it was that easy we would be doing it already”.    Its been my experience that there are 2 arguments against doing anything and only one argument for.  The only argument for or against something that makes sense is “Is it possible?”.  When the answer to that question is “yes” then we must consider it.

 

Fundamental Truth

 

 

 

Money makes the world go ‘round.  It is a cliché but it is sadly true.  There is no function in society, no relative contribution to its detriment or its well-being that cannot be weighed, measured and valued.  Money can’t buy true love but it can buy some damn good acting from pretty much anyone who believes that prospering is better than just surviving.

 

To that end, we are all hookers under the skin.  While some of us may not do that in our homes or with our bodies but we have, no doubt, prostituted ourselves in the work place and in social interaction to further ourselves financially.  It is the way of things.  Everything and everyone has a value, a potential value and can be a value-added commodity.  Human beings in a market economy are only valued by their ability to generate or maintain income.  The second question after “how do you do?” in the market economy is “what do you do?”.  The relative consequence of answering that question determines your value to the questioner and ultimately to society.

 

If the respondent answers “I am unemployed” or “I am a housewife and care giver to two children” the relative value to the questioner is nil.  If, however, the respondent answers “I don’t do anything but spend my father’s money and he is a contract killer for the mob” your perceived value to the questioner increases.  The full-time care giver is considered a pariah by the questioner even though that person has been entrusted with preparing two elements to the future of humanity.  The child of the killer who does nothing but spend his father’s ill-begotten gains is treated with greater respect and admiration because he has access to money.

 

Our society which some say is supposed to be based upon values espoused by Jesus Christ is fundamentally flawed.  Or perhaps more accurately, supposed Christian values are flawed by Fundamentalism.  This type of fundamentalism shrouds itself in conservative morality, a morality that completely ignores the plight of the less fortunate as a group and some people’s fundamental truth that “God is Love” and that God alone is judge; and ‘if a man asks you for your coat you give him the shirt off your back too’. 

 

The conservative Fundamentalism may not have trouble with the notion that morality is based on loving God with everything that you are and loving others as you would like to be loved as they would see that as individual obligation superseding collective will.  The conservative fundamentalist ignores or rejects outright the passage in the Acts of the Apostles when St. Peter, the man chosen by Jesus to be the head of the church, said that ‘all goods owned by individuals who call themselves members of the church should be used for the common good of all.’ (Truly abhorrent behaviour to someone who believes that his or possibly her lot in life was a blessed right given by God). The Fundamentalist ignores St. Peter’s approach and wraps themselves in the capitalist mentality that exploitation and greed should be rewarded. 

 

 How did we depart from “no man can serve God and money?”, “Make friends with filthy mammon?” and “Money is the root of all evil?”   These are purported to be Christian values and yet have nothing to do with the values and principals of the economies of “Christian” nations around the world.  And we wonder why other faiths don’t understand our values.

 

It makes me wonder if anyone in Capitalist North America and western Europe could even understand an economy based upon actual Christian values.

 

 The Lie of Efficiency

 

During the Harper years in Canada, for example, it was plainly evident to me (Again not an economist…just a bitchy observer) that the government was doing whatever it could to maintain higher unemployment in the manufacturing sector in favour of the resource sector.  Higher unemployment is desirable for the Conservative as it drives down wage demands and is resultantly anti-inflationary.  Its cruel to those who yearn for employment to feed their families but effective at driving people from one part of the country to another as well as reducing the relative expectation of salary.

 

Business in general prospers as the echelon wages and bonuses increase while general salary expenditure decreases.  The bottom line looks so much better when you are paying next to nothing for labour.

 

Over the long term, it is self defeating, of course, as fewer and fewer people have the money it takes to drive the economy… which eventually hurts the bottom line for all those who benefitted from lower wage demands.  Many of those companies decided to further augment the bottom line by moving service and manufacturing to third world countries. 

 

It really is even more self defeating as even fewer people have the money to purchase the products and services those same companies produce.

 

The sad part is, from a corporate value point of view, those same companies seem to be more efficient and making more as they quietly destroy the economy they claim to be part of.

 

“Efficiency” is the root of all corporate evil.  The Private Sector uses the word to justify mass lay-offs, getting rid of middle management and moving to cheap labour countries.  While the word should be embraced, its application has become a source of pandemic evil through-out the industrial world.  Nothing makes a worker cringe more than hearing that his or her company has hired an ‘efficiency expert’.

 

The public sector on the other hand has never been what one would call efficient.  Rather, that is a term used to get rid of enough low-level operatives so that the individual department can no longer fulfill its mandate.  The harsh reality of the public sector is that if there is to be a purge, the purge should really begin at the top.  Most of the higher-ups in the public sector have ridiculously high wages for the work they rarely actually do.  In my pathetic little province of New Brunswick, The Standing Committee on Public Accounts document, shows 1,664 employees in 43 departments, Crown corporations and agencies earned more than $100,000 in 2011-12…(There are even more now) that is frankly insane for a province of 700 000 people.  I would doubt there would be more than a few hundred people in the private sector making that kind of money…. we’re a poor Province.

 

Money Makes It Happen

 

The dependency on money has brutal limitations.  Even if our corporate masters would allow it, is there enough money for all of us to have a decent life?  According to some policy makers there isn’t enough money to make sure everyone in the world has enough food and water…or so we are told.  Those that make the cash say it can’t solve our homeless issues.  Around the world there are people desperate for medicines that we have in abundance and yet the desperate don’t have the money to buy them.  I guess this is Darwin at work? 

 

According to some news story I can barely remember, we might be able to develop (Or have developed?) plasma engines that could be installed in just a few years that would enable us to fly to Mars and beyond but we can’t because we don’t have enough money.  So, we have both the technology and the desire but we need the money.  We can’t feed the starving, we can’t give medicines to those who need it and we can’t explore the galaxy because the artificial wallet we make for ourselves doesn’t have enough fake money in it. 

 

Using the Cost-Benefit Formula

 

My father’s simplistic solution to that, still rings true for me today.  You own the mint, if you need money, print more!  No, he was not stupid.  He believed that if government applied a cost-benefit formula to its expenditures and eliminated the annual deficit in favour of a 4-year plan, the returns from wise investment would offset the seemingly crazy expenditures.  It would require a lot of political good will to implement and government courage unlike any we have ever seen.

 

The rewards, however, would be huge. 

 

The New National Dream.

 

To illustrate high spending with higher rewards:  Imagine high-speed rail crossing the second largest country in the world in less than 24 hours.  Its financially impossible now but if we could convince the International Monetary Fund and other nations to agree to let us pilot the notion of working on a 4-year cycle, we could see major projects approved just on their positive cost to benefit realization.  A closed-off-to-the-weather, near-linear mag-lev and magnetically-induced rail-line travelling at air travel speeds is possible.  It is just a matter of economic and political will.  Can you imagine something manufactured in Halifax arriving the next day in Vancouver?  Can you imagine people leaving Moncton and arriving in Calgary the next day having never left the ground?  It would change the dynamic of this country forever.  It would put an end to massive air pollution from short haul planes and jets and much faster than taking your car.  Heck it might pay for itself just from American travel tourism alone.

 

But we can’t because it would cost too much.  Yes, there is a significant cost benefit that might pay for itself over 20 years but no one cares about that because the initial capital outlay is prohibitive.    I know there is an Eskimo in Alert with a bag of chips saying to his only neighbour for hundreds of miles…” If I give one to you I gotta give one to everybody else.”

 

There is that problem with opening the door on extreme spending, that once you open it, it can’t be closed.   But I would suggest it might make the price of oranges a bit pricey {sky rocketing inflation by way of putting too much money into circulation in a short period} but if the end resulting revenue from taxes exceeds the short-term costs, it is well worth doing.  Isn’t it?

 

This would be the beginning of the end of the monetary system as we know it.

 

The numbers might be scary… a multi billion-dollar deficit for the realization of a few billion in returns over 4 years and only recovering the investment over 20 years.  It’s a risk that no one wants to take but I think it is the only way to move forward.

 

 

 

A GAIn for the Working Poor

 

(Yes, I know you’ve heard this a lot lately but I feel like I was among the first advocating for it so I want my version to be heard.  I first wrote about this in a paper I did in high school back in 1977 and I have been an advocate ever since) There have been pilot projects in Manitoba (late 70s early 80s as I recall) and recently in Ontario and in PEI.  It was a recommendation by the MacDonald Commission on the Economy circa 1982, became Liberal Party policy as Negative Income tax in 1983 or 84 but luckily for me Conservative Senator Hugh Segal created it in the late 80s.  I don’t care whose idea it was or wasn’t…its good government policy and is the beginning of not using money to cover basic necessities moving into the future)

 

There is no way to spend money on trains or anything else for that matter without addressing poverty. 

 

Put simply, a Guaranteed Annual Income provides a certain level of income to every man woman and child so that their basic needs are met.  It is the best way to make sure everyone has enough money to survive without the stigma of welfare and the short-term solution of unemployment insurance.

 

Arguments against it range from “if you pay people to do nothing then nothing is what they will do” and the (Former Prime Minister)Paul Martin Junior argument that there just isn’t enough money to give people an amount that would allow them to survive.  Ok, there are other more legitimate arguments as well.  It could be hyperinflationary as Loblaws, Sobeys and the landlords realize how much more they could be charging for food and lodging.  And, the provinces could fight it as it wanders into their jurisdiction.  For the latter, I have no answer other than we really need the provinces to be on-board as without them there really wont be enough money for everyone.

 

The primary conservative argument that if you pay people to nothing then nothing is what they will do is not borne out in the places that had guaranteed annual income.  Most Norwegians earn(ed?  I have no idea if they still have the policy) less from their jobs than they received from their guaranteed annual income and yet most went to work.  I refuse to believe that Norwegians have a better work ethic than Canadians.

 

I do believe that businesses that are generally exploitive and use turnover as a weapon might want to rethink that policy if the people working for them could get almost as much money staying home.  This too might contribute to inflation as a number of low paying employers will simply have to pay more to keep good people. I don’t expect the GAIn amount to be so lucrative that it will pay people to stay home but it might give them options where none exist now.

 

Far more problematic is the question of ‘would there be enough money?’.  The idea is to take all the social expenditures from welfare transfer payments, GIS, CPP Disability, certain health transfers, tax savings, Child tax benefit, GST HST refunds etc together with the cost of administering those payments and gather that all in to one cheque payable to all taxpayers who make $25,000 per annum or less.  I am guessing that without Provincial involvement, it would be about $18,000 for adults and 8,000 for children.  With the provinces participating I am hoping it will be $25,000 per adult and $10,000 per child. That is $4,000 more than the average full-time minimum wage.  The individual amount coupled with a spouse’s amount together with the amount for a couple of children, it could put an end to child poverty permanently.

 

It will be tougher for low paying employers to keep workers but if it’s a decent place to work, many GAIn recipients, if not most, will continue to work at their job regardless.  It puts a little balance in the workforce and it creates a more competitive environment for employers to get good people and keep them.

 

Changing Taxes

 

To facilitate the Guaranteed Annual Income and to make it worthwhile for those who benefit from it, there must be some major tax changes.  I would suggest a very nominal tax rate for the first $25,000 of earned income; somewhere near one half of 1 percent for the first $25,000 and then 35% of each dollar above it.  This insures that we’re putting money in the hands of the people who spend it without it breaking the bank to pay for the GAIn.

 

Maximum Wage

 

I also believe the time has come for us to say no to the moronic greed in the upper echelon of corporate Canada.  Anyone making more than a million dollars in a single year will pay a heavy tax penalty of 90% of every dollar more than that amount.  Sports professionals will be partially exempt and we will continue to allow forward averaging.

 

HST GST

 

There is no question the Guaranteed Annual Income will be a strain on the Government coffers.  To that end we must take advantage of what we hope will be increased consumer spending at the low end and raise the Federal and Provincial Sales Taxes.  The Federal rate should be in and around 10 percent.  This insures that the Government will get back some of what it added to the economy without taking it away before it is even spent.  Income tax on low income earners is an anchor to growth and it hurts children and the poor to benefit those who don’t need it.

 

How would it work?

 

Administration of the GAIn would be challenging but there are 2 methods that spring to mind.  One is make it universal and tax it back from those who don’t need it.  The other is to allow Canadians to apply for it as they need it.  For example, if Tom has a job that pays $20,000 he could apply for a quarterly GAIn cheque of $1250 and as his circumstances improve over the next quarters his GAIn cheque would go down. But if he lost his job or got his hours reduced he could apply for an immediate top up.  If he got overpaid over the course of the year it would be reflected in his payable taxes and his GAIn amount in the coming year might be reduced. 

 

The basic idea is to have a family of 4 make a minimum of $70,000 per annum.  25 thousand for each parent and 10 thousand for each child.  I don’t know how likely that is but its an amount worth shooting for.  Fundamentally (so to speak) the concept is low income Canadians would have enough to pay for food, clothing, lodging, communication and transportation.  While the $10,000 for each child may seem excessive but it would be taxable as it puts the mother and father over the tax threshold of $25000 and therefore taxable at the rate of 35%.  Health deductions might apply so we would leave it at the higher rate.

 

A World Without Money

 

I believe these are the first steps to removing money as the only way of determining value and measuring prosperity in a future world.  If we eliminate annual deficits by measuring a cost to benefit formula for government spending, we have exchanged the artificial value of currency for a longer-term value of return on investment.  I wont get into the obvious cautionary tale about what constitutes a solid investment. 

 

If we follow the basic formula that spending now returns enough by way of saving on future spending within 4 years {The Social Benefit Formula.  You feed a person today and it saves you on medical and/or policing expenses tomorrow} And the return on capital investment formula whereby there is sufficient return over a period of 4 to 10 years to get the money invested back and longer term to realize a profit on the investment. The value of money changes from something limiting and quantifiable to something limitless and stimulative.

 

Similarly, the use of a Guaranteed Annual Income reduces the use of money to a basic credit for the essentials of food, clothing, shelter, communication and transportation.  While one can make more than just the Guaranteed Annual Income and improve one’s quality of life, the basic standard is there and is quantified only by choice.

 

The only purpose for money at that point is the measure of advancement and the incentive to advance.

 

Perhaps, as we evolve, we will no longer need to measure success individually and collective prosperity will be our true measure.  Ok start naming all the successful communist countries….hmmmm. 

 

Yes, measuring prosperity by collective success could take a while before people could accept it and it would have to coincide with the general acceptance of a fundamental Christian view that “Whatever you did not do for the least of these my brethren, you did not do for me…”  but eventually people might see a world without money has to be better than rewarding greed and narcissism.  Perchance to dream.  Hmmm what would Jesus do?

 

-30-

 

 

 

 

 

Lilly The Cat

Lilly The Cat By RR Fry (Translated from a lot of meowing) Since the Fat Man came back to live with me and the Treat Giver last February, I have made it a point to keep him awake as often as I can …

Source: Lilly The Cat

Lilly The Cat

Lilly The Cat

By RR Fry

(Translated from a lot of meowing)

Since the Fat Man came back to live with me and the Treat Giver last February, I have made it a point to keep him awake as often as I can just to remind him how unwelcome he is in my apartment. The Treat Giver may think she owns the apartment but lets face it, I make her buy me food, I make her give me water, I let her make my bed which I allow her to sleep in and I make her clean my litter box…really, which one of us is in charge? The only reason I keep her around at all is for the treats.

The Fat Man on the other hand serves no Earthly purpose to me other than the fact I make him give me cold meats. I usually wait until his eyes are shut while he is laying his obesity on the couch and then I get 2 inches away from his face and scream with a loud meow…HAM! HAM! Until the massive monster wakes up, yells something back and then we repeat the process until His Fatness gets up and gets me ham. If he fails to tear it up into bite-size pieces or gives me the wrong cold meat I will relentlessly repeat the HAM HAM chant until he complies.

He’s not that bright so I have to show him each day where the Fridge is and point out where the ham is located. Honestly I really don’t know what the Treat Giver sees in him. I used to let him play laser pointer with me and I’d make him think I was chasing the light but really I was just testing to see how long it would take for his arm to give out. Then he said something stupid like ‘the batteries are dead’. The liar, batteries are like mice, they don’t die until you’re done playing with them.

Just to humour him I let him drag industrial strapping on the floor which I will chase and chase until he gets bored and throws it on the floor…like I would play with it by myself. I really can’t stand to see him not worshipping me so when he sits down at the computer, I’ll walk back and forth in front of his face occasionally stepping on the keyboard until he turns red with appreciation for my typing skills.

I wish I didn’t need humans but until someone can train another animal to do all I need to have done, I just don’t think I could live without them. They are hard to train. I can never seem to get them to open the window when I want them to. They seem to leave just when I was ready to allow them to give me some affection and they shower instead of bathing which prevents me from playing the water. I really hate that. Playing in bubbles is the most fun you can have without a half dead bird to torture..I mean play with.

Speaking of birds, I spend a lot of time looking out the window. I have grown quite fond of this Pheasant who walks by my window ’cause, lets face it, he’s too dumb to fly. I am trying to learn bird but languages are difficult when you only have one vocal chord. It was hard enough to learn how to say ‘Ham’ in the human tongue, Bird Speak has a whole set of other challenges. I’ve got the cadence down but I am pretty sure my tone is off because when I ask the birds to come closer so I can kill and eat them, they seem hesitant. This is even after I have explained that we all must follow our natures.

There are days when I wish I could go out and live like a hunter cat but whenever the humans have called my bluff and let me out, it’s a world of loud noises and cold weather. It may seem intriguing but what if I got locked out and I had to train new humans? Sounds like too much work. I’ll just go lie on the bed the Treat Giver made for me and wait for the Fat Man to go for a nap…I’m pretty sure there is more ham in the fridge. Besides I really can’t stand to see him relaxed.

Lilly is a cat with cow like markings who is a freelance writer and a feline food getting strategist in a Moncton apartment.

RR Fry is a Fat Man that Lilly allows to live there.

Understanding Clinical Depression

Understanding Clinical Depression

Is there any way any of us can understand people who are depressed? I have been an amateur psychologist and know-it-all for more than 25 years and even I don’t get it.

The simplest answer is…well… you can’t understand clinical depression unless you have it. If you can understand it …well you’re crazy. There is no rationale for clinical depression. It is not something you can snap out of. Its not the same as that day you could only get round hamburgers and you really wanted a square one. It’s not the same as when your pet hamster just simply refused to get on the wheel. I think JK Rowling described it best as a Dementor attack…it was like all the joy in life was sucked out of you and you’d never feel happy again.

Moreover it is like living in constant pain and you don’t know where the source is. You just want it to stop. You know there is no logical reason for it but it permeates you and it’s all you can feel. You have to make it stop. You convince yourself that everyone is better off without you and you have nothing left to give this world except more pain.

If you’re drowning in the Abyss and its not even midnight yet and all you can feel is the pains of life then you need to go see someone…now!

For some there are environmental causes, the loss of a loved one, unemployment, making a foolish mistake etc. But all too often it makes no sense whatsoever… you can be rich with everything to live for and want nothing more than escape from the pain. Depression is indiscriminate, it crosses all divides and makes life a living hell for those who suffer from it and those around them.

There is no power of positive thinking, no set of exercises or any short term therapy that will stop it. There is some hope in medication and on-going therapy but its not easy. To add to the complexity, I believe that for certain women the answer may lie in hormonal therapy as the fluctuation of hormones wreaks havoc on brain chemistry as in postpartum depression, menstrual cycles and menopause. I have no way of saying that is accurate for sure, it just makes sense to me. I am not a medical professional so the salt that I give is only available in multi grain.

The really crazy thing is that irrational behaviour cannot be rationalized. No one can or will understand why you feel the way you do because the way you feel is not normal. You’re smothering and all you want is a minute of free open air. It is there and you will find it but only those who live it or those whose job it is to help you beat it, can help you. Even then it might take time, going through different professionals, drugs and therapies before you get what you need.

For those who are depressed but not clinically….There is no doubt that for most people ‘life sucks and then you die’ is pretty much an accurate depiction of how things go. Life is depressing and there really is no value to it whatsoever….especially if you are that guy that just drove down Mountain Road at 35 klicks per hour. If you need to drive that slow then life is truly passing you by.

That being said there is an inherent value to life. If you live to yourself you die to yourself. If you live to help others then you always have something to live for. I don’t just mean swinging a hammer for Habitat for Humanity (although that is an awesome thing to do) but more helping provide for your family, being there for friends, and/or living each day to make life better for yourself or someone else by community involvement. It’s been my experience that these people have the most hope…for today and tomorrow.

Sadly for those who suffer from Mental Illness, helping others is often lost on them as they can’t see past the pain. Eventually, when they get help, the pains of life will give way to the joys of living. They can and will see a better tomorrow coming.

So if you feel lost and alone…you are not. There is hope and the only way to find it is to get help. If you can’t get help…well…someone has to write those damned Christmas movies where Santa needs you to save Christmas with a crippled reindeer and a mentally challenged elf. Until I started looking in to Clinical Depression, I used to wonder what kind of human being would write that stuff…and now I know.

 

RR Fry is a former broadcaster, producer, political aid and freelance writer living in Moncton.

Rules for Moncton Driving

They say sarcasm is the lowest form of humour. I can live with that. Having said that please remember these rules are NOT to be followed.

While I may find it a bit frustrating, these are the rules for driving in Moncton that I have observed over the years. Not observing some of these rules could prevent accidents and save lives so use caution:

Driving Rules:

1. Men must wear a cap – you never know when a random baseball game might break out and no one wants to be unprepared.
2. You must drive an oversized urban pick up truck that has never carried anything heavier than groceries. (2a)Your tires have to be wide enough that they don’t fit in between the lines and (2b)high enough to make sure your headlights shine directly into the eyes of oncoming traffic. (2c) You never carry anything heavy and no matter what the Mythbusters said about increased drag, (2d) you have to have a cover for the back that will never be opened.
3. Never ever ever look in the mirrors except to fix your hat or adjust your make-up. [The fist rule of Italian Driving is the 3^rd rule of Moncton driving…WHAT’S BEHIND YOU IS NOT IMPORTANT.
4. Always too fast or too slow…nothing in between. If you accidentally see something behind you your top speed is 40 kph except in winter when its 60. If you think nothing is behind you (DONT CHECK) then the speed is 80 in a 50 zone and 135 on the highway or if followed then its no more than 80 kph especially on Wheeler Boulevard. Remember causing fast driver death is ok with law enforcement or the sign would say ‘Suggested’ rather than ‘Maximum’ 100 KPH.
5. The left hand lever on the steering column sometimes called ‘the turn signal’ serves no purpose (or, if you feel you have to use it, you can switch it on after you’ve begun your turn so people who already could see what you were doing can know for sure). Remember using the turn signal before you apply your brakes will just let people know what you are up to and no one wants that.
6. Driving for conditions might mean slow down when its slippery in some places but not here. Here it means drive as fast as necessary so there is no way you can stop in an emergency. People who slow down on icy streets and low visibility are just scaredy-cats who put too much value on human life.
7. Remember if you’re driving a fast car, a motorbike or your hopped up truck…make as much noise as you can. People love that….especially girls who think ‘wow I can’t wait to be wolf whistled by that guy’. Go as fast as you can even if you’re only going ten feet to maximize the noise.
8. Drinking and driving is always wrong but those rules that you said you believe in don’t apply to you…you’re a big guy, two or 3 might be enough to make some people a menace, but not you. Besides if anything bad happens you’re just thinning the herd…who needed that guy anyway?
9. You bought that big truck for a reason…to drive on Elmwood Drive and Lutes Street and feel the roll of the waves ….but just the same, make sure you randomly jam on your brakes as if you had a truck load of eggs whenever you see a pebble out of place…The people behind you love that stuff.
10. Remember how your Dad used to stop and help people…Never do that…They bought that Dodge…they knew what they were getting into…They deserve what’s coming to them
11. Just like when you were in elementary school, never stay within the lines. Driving on or slightly over the lines maybe a little discourteous and perhaps deadly but that is what driving is for.
12. No matter how many cars are behind you and how unexpected it maybe for them, always jam on your brakes and let the driver turning on to the street, out in front of you. Its courteous to them and completely discourteous to the people behind you…well done!
13. The distance between you and the car in front of you is directly proportional to the desperation of the person behind you to get by. Block all turn lanes by at least three car lengths and make sure only you and the car in front of you make it through a flashing light.
14. Always wait to see the whites of the eyes of the people coming up behind you in the passing lane before you pull out to pass that truck and then only overtake the truck by 1 km per hour…then pull in front of the truck and race the guy trying to pass you, it make for fun motoring for everyone.

    To sum up the rules of Moncton driving, be as discourteous as possible while maintaining a complete sense of obliviousness to the world around you. Or you could try something totally different and think about the needs of others on the road…Naaaaaah! Sorry, I forgot where I was for a second. Happy Motoring!

 

RR Fry is a freelance writer from Moncton and a former broadcaster, copywriter and political assistant

corana

Corana

Chapter One

Good Byes and Yesterdays

 

His eyes were glassy, thick with tears that would never come.  He held out his hand to me and for the first time in my life I was afraid to take it.  I knew it would be for the last time.    He grabbed my hand hard and held it there for a second until I could feel his remaining strength.  The tube in his neck that prevented him from talking coughed a mucous filled snort and trickles of blood trailed out of his trachea.  Time was so short now.  He motioned for the children’s toy pad he used to write with.  I picked it up and lifted the plastic sheet to give him a clean surface to write on.   His snarl and that look of “you idiot” he always had when he was teasing me about some dumb mistake I made, told me I goofed again.  He wanted me to read what he had written.  He grabbed the stylus and began to write with his shaky hand.

 

“You’ve always been smarter than the rest. But you made a mistake leaving that girl behind.  You left the space program for the right reasons… but now you have to use that brain…..”

 

His hand stopped but I knew what he was trying to say so I finished it out loud for him, “for more than fixing outboard motors and fishing”.  He nodded, smiled and winced from the pain and more blood trickled from his neck.  He and I had never spoken about me leaving the propulsion lab.  I just figured he would not understand but evidently my sister had been providing more than just her nursing skills.

 

            It flashed back in my mind. 

We were in a large conference room… too large for the few people in it.  There were three American military men fully decked out in uniform complete with medals like they were supposed to mean something to me. They all had grey hair but were otherwise in great shape.  They kind of looked like triplets and I almost laughed at them for their rigid demeanour.  My boss, Tom Arnold (no relation), was head of the lab and a person who had gone out of his way to make me comfortable in my stay in Florida.  He was heavy set and balding…looking far more worried than any multi millionaire should ever look.

 In the middle of the room seated at the middle of the table with her white blouse too far open to be considered professional was a petite lovely young woman with weepy eyes that when you looked close at them, sparkled between blue and sometimes green, my propulsion engine project team-leader. She and I had an often too flirty relationship and I had come to regard her as a close friend.   

I would have been pining for more under different circumstances but she was just fresh out of school and I had been working on the space program for almost her entire life.  Well, that and she was kind of out of my league. When she smiled, she was breathtakingly stunning and I was well… unarmed.  I assumed she was there for my benefit…to make me feel like I wasn’t being persecuted.  The uniformed men all sat rigid and left the arguments to my boss. 

            “Look Davis we have no choice…they…” pointing at the military boys, “…supply the money for this project…” my boss’ round face turned purple as he argued a point that he knew I would never accept.

            “They are my designs and I will not have them used for weapons of destruction … mass or otherwise,” I argued back.

            “These men here represent the US government and they have paid for the development of your designs,” my boss yelled back.

            “I am Canadian, so I don’t give a crap if the President of your country is here, they are my designs and I will not have them used for any other purpose other than what you agreed to, which was to send people to Mars faster than any of your people ever thought was possible before.” I was fuming.

            “And your design will be used to go to Mars but we can’t do that without money,” my bosses colour came back and he calmed down.  “We give these guys what they want and they give us money to complete our project,” he said calmly.

            “I can’t be part of killing people, Tom”.  “Please,” I pleaded. “Don’t let them do this.”

            “It’s done, you can’t do anything about it Davis except finish the project and help us use it for what it you intended it for,” the lovely young woman… the woman I thought was my friend… interjected blind-siding me with her support for the military application of the design she helped me work on.  It hit me like a knife and I could barely think.

 

            My boss spoke to her like I was invisible now.  “So, Ms. Larsen do you feel that you and your team can finish the project without Dr. Davis here?”

            “It will be harder, but yeah I think we can…..”

            The rest of what Larsen said faded in to pain.  She turned on me and stabbed me in the back and in the heart, all at the same time.  I thought she and I had a connection…an understanding…something.

            We had fun working together.  We laughed all the time and Larsen was one of those people who produced tears when she laughed hard enough, so I tried to out do myself  each day.  She was playful and fun taking my constant innuendo, which would have sent most people screaming to the sexual harassment office, as if it was a new joke. 

When we hung out after work we both remarked about how neither of us had that much fun before… taunting and teasing until we had to leave as we both had separate ways to go.  At one point, she asked one of those cryptic questions about my feelings, whatever they are and I just reminded her that, as my father always said, “Never ask a question you don’t want an answer to.”  I was a scientist, not a Hallmark Card.  I couldn’t have feelings.  Just because my serotonin levels were out of whack when I was around her didn’t mean I …

            “I mean I know that you know how I feel and down deep I think I know better than even you how you feel; if either of us felt anything, which of course we do not.”  She laughed at my pretended rejection of human emotions. “So I know that you know…you know? Like every human being that craves socialization into a harmonious pair bond, I want to hear it, just once, but it changes everything and it changes nothing.”  As cryptic and confusing as it was, we both understood and we never spoke of our “feelings” again.

            My separate way, as I called my girlfriend, crashed and burned…seems I was having too much fun with a co-worker.  She left me and I hardly even noticed because I couldn’t wait to get back to work and see Larsen.  To try and figure it out, I called my Dad and I told him all about her and he said if he didn’t know better he’d say, I had surrendered to the ‘human pair bonding ritual’ referring to something I wrote as a kid about how love didn’t exist. 

            It doesn’t … I was right.  I never spoke to Larsen again.  Even thinking her name causes me to relive a betrayal and the feeling of stupidity… how could I think she felt something for me?  How could I have been so wrong? 

            I left Florida that night hoping to never think of those people again.  I flew back to Canada, rented a car and drove to the small town of Portland on Big Rideau Lake near Ottawa and started working at my Dad’s small marina. It had 15 or 20 small motorboats and a few sailboats all tied to floating docks that seemed to spring from the heavy evergreen trees that almost obscured the small marine garage where I fixed small engines, an office and the house behind it. I had a bit of money saved up and I wasn’t in any hurry to see my inventions used to slaughter innocent people again. 

            Boats are simple and boaters can be trusted. 

A few weeks after I got home I caught my Dad coughing up blood and was having trouble speaking.  Despite his reluctance, I took him to the hospital.  The Doctors kept telling him there was nothing wrong with him until the last Doctor did an exploratory surgery on his neck.  I never got to hear my dad’s voice again; they left a trachea tube in his voice box and told me he had a few weeks to live.  They asked me if I wanted to tell him or if they should.  I said I would tell him…it would be better coming from me.  I wanted to run away…even the lab was better than this but I had to do it. 

            “Hey Dad,” he turned to me and smiled, “the news is not good, you have oesophageal cancer and the time is very short.”  I felt the bubbling of emotion and I nearly died myself when he wrote down on a piece of paper,

            “Any hope at all?”

 I just shook my head.  He waved good bye ironically with a forced smile and wrote,

            “Here till I die?” 

Meaning did he have to stay in the hospital until the end?

            “No… no you’re not,” and I picked up my cell and called my sister and asked if she could get away for a while.

They had always had a strained relationship so I figured she would be less than eager to look after him now. Nevertheless, she agreed to come out to the house and stay until the end.  The hospital and everyone said we couldn’t take him home but we insisted and spent the next 6 weeks tending to his every need…….

 

I had never believed in euthanasia but when my sister the nurse said my Dad, my friend…my strength, was going to haemorrhage to death and drown in his own blood; my beliefs were shot to hell.

“Its time” is all she said.  But it sounded like a warden getting the final word that there was no reprieve and the execution would proceed.  She would give him enough Morphine that he might not know anything at all until his heart stopped.

“Wait!” is all I could say.

“Rob, would you really want him to die by drowning in his own blood?   We agreed to this a long time ago when we said we would take him home to be with us…until his last day… today.  Please let him have his dignity.”

Even 6 weeks later it was still strange to hear someone call me by my first name. My sister, Joan, was less than subtle but I had to tell him one more thing…or maybe I was trying to buy him time.  Even I didn’t know.  Dad looked at me and then motioned to Joan to proceed.  The tears I had not shed during the 10 weeks of 24-hour-a-day chronic care, boosting his oxygen levels, feeding him through a stomach tube, cleaning his trachea and keeping his spirits up, suddenly started to spill out.

I was never what you would call emotional.  These might be the first tears I had shed since I was 5 but my emotions were leaking like they had spilled over my control line and I was powerless to suppress them.

I wanted to explain about what all happened with the girl, my life, but there was no time for that now.  He grabbed my hand and shook it like he was saying goodbye to an acquaintance and then let me go.   Joan was crying now and her hands shook so badly that I had to help her give him the injection.  No matter how I felt, this is what he wanted and I did not have the right to deny him that.   I could see his instant reaction of relaxation after the injection and we shut off the oxygen and waited.  There was a deafening silence as we listened to hear each breath and wondered if it was his last.

Joan wanted to distract me from discussing what we just did and I was relived to talk about anything else no matter how painful it was.  “So tell me about this girl Dad was talking about,” she asked.  We both spoke quietly so as literally not to wake the dead to a pain and a scene neither of us could comprehend.

“Did you ever meet someone you had an instant rapport with?” I asked.

“Yeah, I guess so,” is all she offered like she wasn’t really interested.

“Well Larsen and I had in instant but odd connection.  Differences in time and age meant nothing as I teased her relentlessly about her poor choice of words and hillbilly expressions.   We didn’t talk that much face to face; most of our conversations were over the company chat line.  I was glad of that.  She had a smile that could disarm a battalion.  Her eyes sparkled between hues of blue and green as they filled with mischief and playfulness.  She would innocently ask something like ‘how much thrust does this thing have?’  And I would respond, ‘how much thrusting do you need?’  She laughed easily without concern over the rights and wrongs of conversations between co-workers.  It was like I could never go too far and I could turn everything into a joke.  For the first time in my life I was having what other people might call fun.  She seemed to love it and teased me back as often as she could.  I couldn’t wait to go to work just to hear what she was going to say next.”

“You may recall, I had a girlfriend, Tanya, who hated my guts but so long as Larsen was around, I didn’t even care about that.”  By the look on Joan’s face I guess she didn’t know about Tanya either.  It really had been a long time since we talked. “Tanya had accepted my lack of profound emotion and scientific rationalizations but seeing me give those emotions, which I claimed I didn’t have, so freely to someone else was too much for her. Eventually she left me and I don’t even recall if she said goodbye.  Larsen was all I cared about and even the thrust mechanisms of the propulsion unit were a backdrop to my feelings for her.  A cheap excuse to spend time discovering who I really was for the first time.”

“So, you were in love with her then,” Joan said simply trying to boil the conversation down to nothing.

“No, of course not!  I just got used to her and how she made me feel.  Its normal to long for things you can’t have, isn’t it?” I asked rhetorically.  I understand the affect her youthful exuberance can have on someone like me trying to recapture his youth.  Her rampant pheromones caused stimulation to my neurons and the effect of which was euphoric.  Obviously, it was one sided and “the feelings” if you want to call them that will fade.  Like a million other men I just got it wrong.” I said it more to convince myself that Joan.

“So, if she walked through that door and pledged her undying love?”  Joan was teasing now.

“I would know that she was lying.  She loved her boyfriend.  She loved her work and she loved my designs.  I guess I just misunderstood; she loved what was in my mind.  I just let my fired-up testosterone levels from her too-low-cut shirts and captivating delicate features dominate my thinking.  It happens.  I just wish it would never have happened to me.  She did rescue me from Tanya though so I guess I could thank her for that.  But love? No, more obsession than love.  I think the best way to describe it is an addiction to a drug you can never get enough of until it kills you.”  I declared to my own pain and simultaneous satisfaction.

Joan wasn’t buying it.  “Get over it Rob.  You were in love with her.  Obsession is selfish and I don’t think you are a selfish person.  I think emotionally you are a 38-year-old three-year-old who couldn’t admit to love because it made him vulnerable.  She had you and you hated her power over you so you bolted.”  Joan didn’t pull any punches.

“Haven’t you been listening?  She betrayed me!”  I said too loud.

“Did you get an explanation?  Did you ask her why?  Did you even tell her you had feelings for her?  No, No and No,” Joan answered her own rhetorical questions.  Maybe she did all that to force you to get angry and admit your feelings.  But you ran away.  So, little brother…you blew it!”

Joan was fierce in her condemnation and I wondered what happened to her to make her feel that way.  But more I had to ask myself if there was a chance that she was right?  All this time it had been easy to blame Larsen and pretend I was running away for my own honour but now I was wondering if I wasn’t trying to hide from my own feelings.  I hated Joan for this but I loved her for telling me.

There was a long silence and then Joan opened up.  “I was in love once.  That is how I know how Larsen feels.  This girl was tall, blond an amazing body…most guys would have killed for a minute with her but she was a dyke like me……What?”  Joan asked as my mouth dropped in shock.

I had no idea.

“You knew I was Lesbian, right?”

I just shook my head

“Oh, my god Rob, you even walked in on me and my girlfriends when you were a kid.  Didn’t you think it was odd I was kissing them?  Let alone the fact I am in my 40s, don’t have kids and you’ve never seen me with a man.  You can’t be that dense!”  Joan said laughing at me

I felt retarded.  I did see them kissing and touching each other but I just thought she was playing around practising for a boy.  “I honestly had no idea.  I just thought you were career driven.”  We both laughed at how stupid I had been then the reality of us laughing with our Dad dying beside us brought us back to a quick sombre reality.

“Anyway,” Joan continued, “She was gorgeous and everybody wanted her.  She was so far out of my league that I didn’t even think to take a shot.  But she started flirting with me, a lingering hand on the shoulder, a poke in the side even a slap on the bum as I walked away.  It was clear she wanted to go slumming and I was her slum-lord.  I was drawn to her but so was everybody so even then I didn’t pay much attention.  I just figured she wanted to play around.  Once when she dropped by my office, she ran right up and kissed me on the cheek and I think she was turning to my lips when I laughed.  I mean this gorgeous girl could never want me, right?”  Joan asked rhetorically.

I wanted to intervene with some brotherly input but she waved me on like the queen passing in her car.

Joan was crying as she continued, “She must have taken my laugh as a rejection because she stopped being as flirty.  Then one day she came in to the office looking very serious and shut the door.  She got a job offer in Toronto and was asking me if she should take it. After she explained the offer to me I told her it was too good to pass up.  She left my office looking rejected.  All I really wanted to tell her was, ‘I want you to stay here with me,’ but I thought that was too selfish.  She gave her notice and the next two weeks were about her leaving and I feigned excitement for her.  The reality was it was killing me inside ‘cause I would always wonder if that kiss had turned into something real, if she would have stayed.  On her last day, I kissed her on her cheek again but I closed my eyes so she couldn’t see the pain.  We chatted forever and then she drove away.  I have never stopped thinking about her.  I wish I had betrayed her like Larsen did to you to try and get her to admit something or told her how I felt at least.  She was raped and murdered 24 days after she got to Toronto.  That playful personality, the beautiful face and body, destroyed by a maniac.  I told her in email how much I missed her but I never told her the rest and now I never will.”

The silence continued for a long time as both thought of what Joan said.  I want to run to the phone and tell Larsen that I was in love with her but there was still too much hurt there.

It was hours before his breathing stopped and Dad was gone.  I had never felt so alone and yet for the first time in my life I was never surer there was an eternal truth to existence.  This can’t be it.  There must be more to this universe than the random particles of matter that somehow coalesced into becoming cognisant beings.  At that moment, despite my scientific teachings and empirical sense of truth, I needed to believe there was a god and somehow my father was as special to Him as he had been to me.

Joan and I had never really been close as children.  She was older and out of the house by the time I was 10.  Nevertheless, we held each other like the closest of siblings.  We were orphans now and no matter how we felt about one another, we were the only real family either of us really had.  Our mother disappeared when I was 14.  Most people think she drowned in the lake and the body just never surfaced.  The police and the military searched for days and days and gradually any faint hope we had that she might come barging through the door dissipated over the years.  My father never gave up hoping and really never went on with his life because, “Helen might come home and find no one here, how would we explain that?”

She never did nor would she ever.  It took me a while to accept it …years really.  Joanie on the other hand some how knew Mom was gone forever the minute I called her that night.  She sensed something was wrong before I even called.

I was trapped in hope and I hated Joan for not hoping.  Each Christmas I would set a place for Mom but Joanie would always clear it away and tell me to “grow up…she’s gone… get over it!”  I knew but I didn’t want to know.  It’s like when a relationship breaks up and you sit by the phone, wondering why they don’t call.  You know its over and they are not going to and yet…you cling to the hope until time eventually reminds you it’s really over.

I called the extra mural hospital Doctor, the police and funeral director.  The police arrived first and waited for the on-call Doctor to say there was no foul play.  To be truthful I had forgotten that what we did might have been considered a crime.  When the Doctor came she simply said it was good that we got a healthy dose of morphine into him when we did as his lungs were filled with blood, and his death might have been much violent had we not been so ‘on the ball’.  There wasn’t even a wink in the sound of her voice.  Joan was relieved as that might have been the end of her nursing career.  But the Doctor and the police were satisfied.

When the mortuary came to take the body, it was much more traumatic than I thought it would be.  He was dead and they were waltzing off with a cadaver and yet it felt so real when they put him in the body bag, threw him on a stretcher and wheeled him away.   For the first time, I realised he was leaving the house and never coming back.

It was a quiet and dignified service and I think most of the people there didn’t even know who he was.  We had him cremated and even though it’s against the law, mysteriously his ashes fell out of my motorboat in the middle of the lake.  He’s always said that is where he wanted to be, just in case Mom was waiting there for him.  Then Joanie and I hit the throttle and drove one end of the lake to the other and back again at over 80 miles per hour.  It’s a fast boat.  Next to the old wooden 26 foot Grew Cabin Cruiser, it was Dad’s favourite and I could see why.  The beauty of going that speed is there will be tears on your face anyway and the water bounces up and washes them away.

Having driven back and forth between lower Rideau and Big Rideau so many times I couldn’t count, night had fallen and I didn’t even notice.  It was the first time I had looked up at he stars since I came back.  It was a clear night and you could see each one glowing in the black night sky.  There was a slight wind and the boat rose gently in the water and lowered with a slight splash.  I cut the engine and through out the anchor.  It caught nicely and I just looked up.

Joan looked up too and said, “So this is your office?”

“Well it was.  Now every damn star reminds me of missiles with my name on them and rockets that will never break 30,000 and…..”

“Larsen!” Joan fished my sentence for me.

“Yeah.  I can’t fight it Joanie why can’t I just move on?”  I asked not really expecting an answer.

“No one ever does Rob.  But believe it or not it does get easier…after a long time.  Not to change the subject but what is happening in the stars?  I keep seeing flashes and then what looks like satellites moving through the sky.” Joan was curious

“I see it too and frankly I have no idea.  It looks like the flashing of engine fire on some of the satellites but we would never be able to see that from here.  Ah well whatever it is…. maybe its some nukes with cool new engines ready to rain down on us.  Now that would be a thrill.” I said only mildly sarcastically.  Truth is I wish that was exactly what the phenomenon was.  I would never commit suicide but right now I yearned for death.

“Joan reminded me, “You would never be that lucky.”

We spent the next few hours watching the light show and then went back to port and drank Southern Comfort in the kitchen of the house and talked about lost love until the dawn broke through the window and told us to go sleep it off.  “To Dad,” we both toasted over and over again until we were both toasted.  At some point in the night the lack of sleep and the alcohol made us both giddy and Joan randomly confessed, “You want to know something?”

“Sure,” I said half crying and laughing wondering what she was going to say next.

“I’ve never slept with a man,” Joan said completely at random.  “I mean I am a lesbian so I guess I am not a virgin cause I have slept with girls.  I’ve slept with a lot of girls but I have never slept with a man.” Joan confessed while taking a huge gulp of Southern.

“You know what?” I asked half laughing.

“What?” Joan asked after a long drunken pause waiting for the punch-line.

“I’ve never slept with a man either…” and we both laughed so hard we fell on the floor.  After a long time of looking at each other and starting to laugh hysterically again.  “But…but I can go you one better, “I said still laughing.  “Not only have I never been in love, which you knew already…. I mean I have had lots of unrequited crushes which I guess you could call love, albeit a bit one sided…” I was randomly going all over the place and I couldn’t even remember what I was saying.  “What was I saying?”

“You said you had never been in love or that you had been in love but it was one sided,” Joan offered amazingly remembering what I was talking about.

“Right…That’s right.  I have never loved anyone who loved me back so I guess you could call that emotional masturbation…”  We both laughed for what seemed like hours still on the floor under the kitchen table like we were kids in a fort.  “Now I know what you’re thinkin’  What about Tanya?” I asked guessing what she might be thinking.

“Well no but ok what about Tanya?”

“Tanya loved scientists.  She was smart but she really got turned on by intellect.  She was involved with another scientist who was married when I got to Florida and I think she went back to him after she left me.  She loved me doting on her.  She loved me serving her every need.  She just didn’t love me at all. But here is the best part, she didn’t believe in open mouth kissing.  So, I am 38 years old and have never really kissed a girl,” sobering up long enough to finally deliver the end of the confession story.  Joanie was laughing at me now and as pathetic as it was I was laughing with her.

Time went on until finally I asked her about Mom. “Why wouldn’t you let me set a place for her at Christmas or even let me think she might come home? I really wanted to believe that after she disappeared she might just walk through the door.”  I was accusing her but I was mostly curious.

“For Dad.  It broke his heart when Mom disappeared. Like you I wanted her to walk through that door but even after a few days I knew.  See I knew something at 18 that a 10-year-old didn’t.  As odd as this sounds, the two of them really loved each other.  She would never stay away from him or from you unless she was really gone.  Dad and I had our problems but I could never let him think that the woman he adored didn’t love him enough to come home. ..Not even at Christmas.  He was hurting too much already.  I loved the old bastard you know.”  Joan was full out crying now.  After a few minutes of watching her tears and wondering if mine would ever come she began again, “He loved you… you know.  He was so proud of you.  Robby is going to MIT.  Robby got his PHd in physics and chemistry.  Robby’s inventions got patented.  Robby came home and made an outboard engine in to a jet.  Robby has gone to for the Rocket Propulsion lab to do something with magnetic induction and thrust amplification.  I was proud too baby brother but you made my Masters of Nursing look like a ‘I used the potty certificate’ at day care.”  Joan unloaded her baggage and I think we both felt closer.

“Sorry!  Its funny you know because all I ever heard was how well Joan was doing.  Joan saves lives.  Joan got a Masters in Nursing and now she is running a hospital.  Its too bad he could tell both of us how proud he was of us to our faces.”

“Yeah but that was him.” Joan threw in

“Yeah I’ll miss that too.”

With the light shining too brightly through the window we both crawled up off the floor and bounced off the walls to our rooms.  My sister and I had become friends after all these years.

 

They say the profound sadness becomes a dull ache in time, I wish I knew when.  The memories of my Dad are everywhere.  I can see and hear him as I look at the places he worked and lived.  It’s not so much about the things he said since most of his conversations through my life were grunts of acknowledgment.    “Can I give you a hand? I’d ask… “Uh huh” he’d say and then motion with his hand what he wanted me to do.    I’d give anything to hear a simple grunt now.

 

 

Chapter 2

 

After a few days, I realised that life had to go on.  The boats still needed fuel and fixing and a dead father seemed to be a meagre excuse for most of the people who relied on us for their amusement.  I loved these people normally but their chronic insensitivity to my pain in the face of getting gas for their pleasure boats was pissing me off.

The solution to my dilemma walked through the door of the marine office just as I was thinking I did not want to do this anymore.  She was tall, statuesque and stunning with long flowing dark hair that had a gentle curl.  The man in me fought desperately not to stare at the perfectly perky pair of boobs barely covered by a Canadian maple leaf patterned bikini top or the tiny blue jean shorts.  She caught me looking and just offered a soft gentle laugh that let me know that she wasn’t upset or uptight.  She told me a few days later that she expected to be looked at when she dressed like that.  If she were a knight that outfit would be her armour.  It made her feel powerful and probably hated by every female on the planet.

Her voice was soft and relaxed as she said, “Hi Davis.”  She acted like she knew me but for the life of me I couldn’t place her.  But she seemed awfully familiar.

“Maybe you don’t remember me; I am Jack’s daughter ….”

“Mandy,” I interrupted finally making the connection.  Jack was my Dad’s closest friend.  He lived on an island in the lake with his second wife whose name I could never remember.  He had been at the funeral but there was no way I would have missed Mandy, grieving or not.  The last time I saw her she was 11 and she and her Mom were moving away to Perth.  Seems Jack found a new model who couldn’t have been much older than Mandy who had to be 20ish by now.  ..A classic mid life crisis gone wrong.  Jack used to hang out here all the time but his new wife wouldn’t be caught dead in a grease pit like this.  My Dad missed him no matter how much of a cad he thought he was, Jack was his best friend.

“Wow, I can’t believe you remembered me after all these years,” Mandy said wondering how.

“Well it was difficult because I thought you had moved away …. The last time I saw you was…..”

“Yeah, I remember,” Mandy interrupted not wanting to relive the pain.  “But I spend my summers with Jack and Lois,” The way she pronounced her stepmothers name and referred to her father as Jack pretty much told me that time had not healed every wound.  “Anyway, I just wanted to come by and tell you how sorry I was about Rod’s ……passing,” there was a long pause as she searched for the right word.  It’s funny but this was the first time since the funeral that anyone had used my Dad’s name.  It felt strange.  Not only had my Dad died but a real person called Roderick Davis had died too.  Mandy started again before the awkwardness could continue.  “Anyhow, Jack wanted me to ask if you needed any help.  I don’t know much about marine engines but I can catch a rope or pump the gas…well after you show me… and you don’t have to pay me,” Mandy added clearly hoping I would not agree to that last part.

“I would love to have you working here.  I can’t pay you a lot but I am sure we could work something out.” I said truly hoping to just toss the whole damn Marina in her lap and walk away.  Mandy seemed like fun, a bit wild and so full of life, she would be a welcome change from the environment of death we had going on for the last 12 weeks or so.

I took her to meet Joan even though Joan really didn’t have a say in the matter.  She was family and I felt obligated to include her in things.  Joan took one look at her and said out loud, “Holy crap she’s gorgeous.”  Then she said in my ear, “If you don’t sleep with her, I will.”  I knew she was mostly joking but I thought I better spoil the party before I found out for sure.

“Ah Joan, this is Mandy….”             “Jack’s daughter,” Joan said sounding a bit disappointed.

Mandy was a bit confused but smiled happily anyway.  Mandy, Joan and I sat down at the kitchen table with Joan still salivating despite the fact Mandy was the daughter of our Dad’s best friend.  She was young enough to be Joan’s daughter and I realised that ‘damn it she was young enough to be my daughter too’.  Of course, she was just a year or two younger than Larsen.  I felt like slapping myself silly for even thinking it.   Mandy caught me leering again and again she laughed when I tried to look away.  Admittedly compared to Joan I was respectful.  Finally, I just called Joan’s name,

“Joan!”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, it’s just that I can’t get over how much you look like your mother.”  Joan said trying to cover the fact she hadn’t even seen a female in about 14 weeks.

“I think my mother is quite pretty,” Mandy said with a smile but obviously trying to diffuse an awkward moment, “So thanks for the compliment.”

Joan replied, “Oh you’re quite welcome.”

Joan turned to me for rescue but I was thinking of just letting her hang herself.  But finally, I interjected, “So I imagine you’d like to know what we want you to do for the marina?”

“Well actually I was enjoying hearing how pretty I am, but if you want to make this all business….” Mandy said laughing.  Joan laughed too much and I just let my eyes do the laughing for me.

“Well I am not sure how early you can get here but we won’t open the shop until then.  Then if you could take care of the cash, manning the pumps which I will show you in a minute and then just keep an eye on the boats making sure they get moored ok…that kind of thing.”  I rattled off her duties as quickly as I could because I kept getting rattled myself looking into those dark blue eyes.  She was a friend’s daughter and I was still filled with complicated emotions about Larsen not to mention she was now an employee but I could not help finding her attractive.

My thoughts betrayed me as she caught me off guard with her next question, “Shall we get started?”

“What?… um oh yeah.”

“You were going to show me a man with cash that I could pump…. Well at least that is the way I heard it.”  Mandy teased.

All three of us burst out laughing.  It was something Joan and I had not done for a few days.  Mandy’s shock humour was just enough to send us into hysterics and we all laughed too long and too hard.

Finally, Joan said, “There is no doubt about it the Marina is in good hands, this girl is hilarious.”  Despite Joan’s initial attraction, now she just genuinely liked the girl.  Despite my attraction, I felt the same way.

Mandy learned her duties quickly but like a comedian on a roll she continued with the innuendo.

“Can you come inside and I’ll show you how it works?”  I asked as we were going in to see the shop cash register.

“Wow you almost never hear a man say that.”

“Can you hold this for me while I turn it on,” I asked as I handed her an oil can that fell from the shelf as I went over to the cash.

“Now there is something I do hear from guys all the time,” Mandy laughed.

I laughed too but I finally said “Oh god I think we have created a monster.”

“You just keep layin’ em out there and I’ll keep knocking them away,” Mandy said using a sports euphemism

“Now there is something you don’t hear girls say that often.”  And we both laughed again.  It was going to be a fun summer.  Mandy was nice to look at and had a warped sense of humour.  The only way to ruin the fun would be for us to get involved so I resolved at that moment it would never happen.

Mandy arrived promptly the next morning wearing a ‘hot girls are people too’ purple tee shirt and a micro mini that I wasn’t sure was covering anything.  One thing for sure she was great for business.  I had never seen a larger collection of middle aged letches and penis head teenage boys in my life.  One of them bought a can of oil and I don’t think he even had a boat.  She learned quickly…I even heard her exclaim to a couple of boys, “If you’re not buying anything you’ll have to leave.”

I was finally free to work on the engines.  There is some satisfaction in taking a broken engine and making it work again.  Over in the corner there was a 50-year-old Evinrude sitting in a test tank that I worked on whenever I had nothing else to do.  A boy named Tim had brought it in to me after he found it in his grandfather’s garage.  It was on an old wooden boat that had more dry rot than wood left.  The boy was lucky to be alive because he rowed that boat about a mile before it literally sank in my dock.  I got the crane on the motor just in time.

As I was working on the motor and tearing it down I started thinking about progressive compression chambers like a jet or a turbine and I started thinking about using many fuels instead of one.  One to power the initial compression reaction for a further compression of something inert that became volatile when compressed.  I had done it.  I had solved the problem that the scientists in the propulsion lab had failed to.  You could hyper compress the fuel use its decompression to fuel the next reaction and so on down the line until the two most volatile fuels mixed to create a cataclysmic reaction.  I wanted to call Larsen and tell her but she had chosen to use my designs as engines of death.  The only thing I could do was build one myself.  If it worked in water with the chemicals I could easily get like hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen, it could work with more sophisticated chemicals.

I would build my super engine later; right now, I had an internal combustion engine to take care of.  It had a cracked cylinder head which had scored up the cylinder pretty badly but it was fixable.  That kid hadn’t been back since the day he almost drowned.  Yet another parts delivery I would probably never get paid for.  I could see why Dad was always such a stickler for half down when he did a major repair…at least his costs were covered.

I peered out the open garage door to catch Mandy thoroughly bent over pumping gas on a small cabin cruiser with two delighted old men enjoying the show and one angry older woman looking disgusted.

“Hey Mandy,” I yelled out.

“Yeah?” She looked up and smiled one of her you’re-a-man-and-I-own-you smiles.

“Do you know a kid named Tim who sunk a boat here?”  I yelled the question wondering if she would find it as dumb as it sounded.

“I should, he is my boyfriend,” Mandy said, matter of factly.

The words hit me by surprise.  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that someone that pretty had a boyfriend but this Tim kid was well young…probably her age as I thought about it.  Now I was having second thoughts about fronting the kid the parts to fix the engine.  He probably couldn’t get his hands on a boat to go with it anyway.  The little schmuck who gets to touch that face, kiss those lips, run his hands through that hair and …..

“Why?” I heard Mandy ask in the background.

“Oh um…just thinking about something,” I said trying to escape my good deed out of pure jealousy.  Mandy was finished her boat fill-up-sex-tease… “and look they gave me an extra 10 bucks,” she said genuinely surprised.

“Imagine that.  Couldn’t be the outfit, could it?” I said under my breath.

“What? No… well a little skin can make a man feel as guilty as sin.” Mandy laughed at her quote from god knows where.  “Anyway, for some reason I feel like I have to explain about Tim and me.”  She offered but I tried to stop her before she finished.

“No, no not at all.  I guess I assumed you didn’t have a boyfriend but I never asked and it really is none of my business.  I mean god knows you are pretty enough but I guess I thought ..well none of these kids would be good enough for you,” I felt like I had turned three shades of purple and  just kept digging myself in deeper.

“So, you think I am that hot?” She asked very pleased at herself for putting me on the defensive.

I just nodded because anything I said here would just make it worse.

“Tim lost his father a while ago and now his grandfather.  He looks like he is about 14 but actually he is 18 and lives with his sister and her husband in their grandfather’s old house.  I call him my boyfriend ‘cus we hang out a lot and it helps get rid of some of the boys. But I am older than him and he knows that so it’s really platonic, though there are times when I am sure he would like more than that.  Then again there are other times when I am not sure he is in to girls….He has a huge G.I. Joe collection and he notices shoes…what’s that tell ya?”  She laughed to my relief because I was laughing too.

 

Joan could zero in on nervous laughter like no one else I knew.  “What’s going on?” She asked curiously and maybe a little defensively.

“Mandy her has a boyfriend who is in to G.I. Joes and notices women’s shoes,” I said teasing Mandy.

“Oh, poor girl! I was in love with someone who was gay too.  But since she and I were both gay that made it a lot easier.”  Joan was teasing but still flirting rather sadly with the girl who was 25 years her junior.  “What you need to do,” Joan continued “is have an affair with a mature woman.  That will pay the boy back for his preferring the sausage.”

Mandy looked at me before she realised that Joan had just been teasing her which made me laugh even harder.

“It’s not like that,” Mandy protested.  “Tim isn’t really my boyfriend and I don’t know that he is gay.  From the way he looks at me I would say that he isn’t but he does play with dolls and is aware of shoes…”

“Rob, quick without looking, what kind of shoes is Mandy wearing?” Joan asked still teasing.

“Um white ones?”  I really was guessing because I had no idea even though we were talking about shoes.

“See, despite the fact my brother would blow a man to measure the scientific reaction, I know he is not gay.  Only women, gay men and shoe makers actually notice shoes.”  Joan continued until we all were laughing hard.

“Hey I would not blow a guy just to measure his reaction.”

“Yes, you would and then you’d get someone else to blow him to see if the law of diminishing returns holds true in a sexual vane or not.”  Joan’s comment was probably true.  For science, I would probably do almost anything.  Not sure if I would go that far or not but I had done some unusual things to measure a scientific truth.

“I am wearing brown sandals with a small heal, in case you were wondering,” Mandy pitched in.

“Sorry,” I offered

“Don’t be.  I guess I would be more worried if you did know what shoes I was wearing.  I had you pegged as straight and I would have had serious gay-dar issues if you turned out to be gay,” Mandy said still half teasing.

“Anyway,” Joan interrupted, “I was wondering if you two would like to take the big boat, go out to Perth and get some dinner.  I want to talk to both of you.”

I hadn’t even fired up the engine of the cruiser since before Dad died.  I had come in and turned the blowers on and run the bilge pump for a while but I didn’t start it.  The Sacred Heart as Dad named her was built by an Ontario firm called Grew.  She was a 26-foot mahogany lapstreak wooden boat built in the 70s with a small forward vee cabin and a fold away galley table.  As kids, we went on all kinds of trips on her but after Mom disappeared it was only occasionally.  Dad loved the boat; spending every winter re-conditioning the hull and making her sound for the water.

It was the first engine I ever worked on.  The original engine was a 350 Chevy that I had developing over 500 horsepower with a new inboard-outboard using a variable pitch and through the hub exhaust propeller.   My Dad was very proud of the modifications.  Especially proud when his cabin cruiser was blasting past ski boats half its size.

As we gathered up the stuff we need for the trip, I reflected on how far Joan and I had come.  We hadn’t stayed in touch over the years.  She had resentments and so did I but we overcame them all and here we are today as close as any two siblings can be.  My sister was talented.  She kept my Dad strong right up till the end.  It was her strength that allowed him to keep his dignity and not haemorrhage to death.  She was the one who made most of the arrangements while keeping me going at the same time.  I was proud of my big sister.  I had only just found out she was a lesbian and the story of her life was really quite sad.  But she knew me and knew I was afraid of the love that was developing between me and Larsen more than I was angry at Larsen’s betrayal.

She helped me see that I was changed and quite a bit more receptive to what the future might hold.  The engine fired up right away like the heart of my father living inside of it.  I looked around the small marina with its blue painted wooden floating docs, the boathouse in the back where we kept the speed boat, the white and grey marine office where people signed in for overnight docking and bought their supplies; the two big pumps, one with diesel and the other with pure gas and several gas oil mixtures that hardly anyone ever used anymore; the trees that lined the back so you couldn’t even see the  parking lot behind them and behind the boathouse was my house where Joan and I grew up.

I never realised how much I really loved this place.  Joan was right I was just hiding out but now I really felt like I was home.  With Mandy running the marina and me fixing boats and able to experiment and play, I can’t imagine any other place in the world I would rather be.  Joan could come back on the weekends and spend some time here and I would keep the place running.  Sure, there was no trip to Mars, but there was a life and a strange feeling of contentment came over me.  For the first time since my mom disappeared, I felt like I belonged somewhere, right here at home.

 

I untied the boat from the doc cleats and threw the rope on top of the deck.  I thought the lone turquoise border strake that connected the deck to the hull looked a bit dingy and could use a coat of paint.  Dad would have been pissed that I let this go so much.  While the boat just floated, I took down the musty smelling tarp and opened the back deck to the sky.  I revved the engine once and then popped it in reverse for a second then let it coast back.  The Sacred Heart floated back quietly.  I put the cruiser in drive and steered her toward the refuelling doc.  Mandy and her sexy short dress were waiting for me and I tried to divert my eyes as she fuelled the tank.  In this day and age, it is unthinkable to even admire beauty. But since the boat needed gas it would have to be this way…for now!

Things like regular hours and opening and closing times had never been part of the regimen of the marina.  So, it was no issue for Mandy to join Joan and I to just leave.  As the waves pounded gently on the old wooden hull, the boat planed perfectly past the many rich man islands as we traversed the lake.  We pulled up to an old government dock that had seen better days and moored there and we walked the old road into the town of Perth.  We found a nice-looking restaurant and as we walked in past the nautical décor on the walls and waited until each man had a chance to rape Mandy at least once with their eyes before we sat down at a table for 4.

“Before you get too drunk, I just wanted to tell you that it’s time for me to go back to Ottawa.”  Joan said without a hint of smile.  “Now that you have Mandy to run the shop and we’ve had time to grieve.  I think its time to get back to reality.”

“Are you sure?”  I said hoping that she would say no.  “I mean I knew that sooner or later you would want to leave….”

“No, it’s not that I want to leave.  In fact, I’ve really enjoyed this time with my baby brother… getting a chance to re-connect with you has been one of the best times of my life…in spite of why it happened.  But I need to be a nurse, to save lives, to feel useful.  I need to be me again.”  Joan said it like she was asking for permission.

“I understand,” I lied. “I guess I just hate to lose my big sister now that I have found her again.”

“Well that’s just it.  We have reconnected and I will not stay away this time.  I will be back as often as time permits and who knows I might even learn to pump gas or something.  We are not going to lose what it took losing our father to get.  I will be part of your life and nothing you can do will stop me.”  Joan reassured.

The hours sailed by and after a fill of Lobster flown from Moncton to Ottawa and picked up by the restaurant in Perth that very day….I made mine dance and used the claws for castanets…yeah I was hammered…it was awesome.  The three of us had a blast and we somehow staggered our way back to the boat.  I passed out on the transom bed and the girls went down below deck and if I am not mistaken, spent the night getting off with each other.  They must have been in better shape than I was because all I could think of was how the boat was going side to side and I was spinning.  At one point, I covered myself with the musty smelling tarp as I had donated enough blood to the save-the-mosquito foundation.

In the morning, I untied the boat and headed back home.  It felt odd like this might be the last time.  I didn’t know how or why but I had a sense of impending doom and I could not really explain it other than an odd turn in the grieving process.

Just as I pulled up to our dock, Mandy and Joan opened the cabin door, albeit sheepishly, and Mandy handed me a coffee which I was so grateful for I think I forgot about what sounded like multiple trysts the night before.

I wanted to but I didn’t bring it up and all Joan would say or do is “Thanks for your discretion little brother”. And we left it at that.

Despite Mandy’s pleas for Joan to stay just a bit longer.  Joan left later that afternoon.  I wasn’t sure if it was just that the kid had never had anyone love her and leave her but she seemed really insistent until Joan was finally really short with her.

Mandy said, “If you leave now you will never see me or your brother again!”  Joan just smiled and grabbed Mandy into a hug and said, “Trust me you’ll get over it.”  And at that she packed her last suitcase into her car and drove away.

I should have asked what Mandy meant but I just chocked it up to youth and forgot about it until much later that night

 

 

Chapter 3 Taken

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

what is god?

What is God

 

What is God?  Well let’s start with what He, She, It is not.  God is not a book to be worshiped as the fundamentalists believe.  There is no Bible, Torah, Koran or any other book in the universe that contains God.  He is not on any page, or phrase or collection of books.  These books are just stories about what well meaning people like you and I think God is like.  There is no truth to it except the truth you find in them.  There is no validity to any of it.  Some of it is lies, some is truth but the bottom line is that you can’t find God in a book.  God never said any of the words attributed to him because it is tainted with the views of the writer.  Are the Bible and the books like it pointless to read?  No, they contain the threads by which the fabric of civilization is woven.  We are all bi-products of the base rules of conduct and demonstrations of sacrifice and compassion these books offer.

The books are not God but they contain instructions on how we are to be god-like in how we deal with one another.  The stories about Jesus, for example, offer more than rules about not hurting each other, they talk about helping others especially those who are less fortunate.  They talk about compassion and self sacrifice, making friends out of enemies and offering us solace that as we suffer, good things will come.

It talks about the pretence of piety and how no one is without sin so we should not judge each other or be hypocritical.  Important words that people often forget when they talk about the evils of religion. Words written by men that have lasting benefits to all who hear them and use them in their daily lives.

Stupid stupid stupid men with no understanding of words, translation, or even black and white phrases like “Love God with every measure of being that you have and treat each other the way you want to be treated… on these two commandments hang ALL the Law and the Prophets” have chosen to turn the Bible into a rule book of don’t do this and don’t do that.  They subvert the Love with penalty because to them God is angry and vengeful and mean.  They don’t want to hear God say “well I don’t like everything you did but I still like you anyway.”  They are self loathing creatures who want vengeance from God for all the laws they were afraid to break.  Although Jesus did promise vengeance, he offered forgiveness for sin.  Who faces the wrath?  “Whatever you did not do for the least of these my brethren, you did not do for me.”  In other words failure to show compassion is a major mistake.  Isn’t funny how the stupid stupid stupid men spend a lot of time taking about sexual evil and yet they don’t even mention that not helping others is pretty much the worst thing you can do in the sight of Jesus.

Christianity has been destroyed by these men.  They have created enmity between Science and Religion holding that the two are mutually exclusive.  Science is the study of the unseen as much as the seen…there is no conflict as we are both pursuing truth.  True the metaphysical and the physical are at different ends of the spectrum but they are both part of God and Science. For example, the stupid stupid stupid men would have you believe that Creation and Evolution are at odds with each other and yet we know the Bible says that God formed man from the dust and isn’t that exactly what Evolution says?  The real trouble comes in terms of time frame  that creation occurred over 7 days but Jesus says, “a day is a thousand years and a thousand years but a day in the Kingdom of God”  Time, therefore, is irrelevant in an eternal reality.

Ok so who or what is God?  God is the essence of creation and the unifying force in the universe. He, She, It  lit the match that started the Big Bang.  The immensity of God can not be perceived or understood.  There is no book that can hold it.  There’s no story that can adequately explain it and no words can describe it.  As the amoeba is to us so are we to God.  Does that mean that God is too immense to hear our worries and cares?  The short answer is yes but just as the Entity has infinite size and power; it also created us to be self aware. We might be less than bacteria but just as bacteria can destroy life and cause pain, I think our presence is felt.  We are more than the sum of our human parts because we perceive the possibility of a soul.  There is a bit of the Entity in all of us and we must therefore be part of the Entity itself.  We are cognisant of truth and we have the ability to define it.  So we have the power of God.

So the essence of Divine Truth is that God exists, it is aware of us because we are small parts of a larger being.  So is there an all encompassing ultimate truth?

I think there is but it might be disappointing:  As God created us through an infinite law of cause and effect giving the appearance of random happenstance and yet we exist.  So too must we create God out of our infinite desire to define purpose and truth.  Put simply, we create God in our own image to be the God that created us.

Therefore no one who believes in something is wrong.  No one who doesn’t believe is wrong either since God is infinite and indefinable.   Our approach to God is individual and personal.  Our belief system maybe common to others but in the end our relationship with the Divine is ultimately self defined.  We are products of our upbringing and common understanding but no matter how common the faith we have notions of  a different God.  God would never forgive this or God’s mercy will forgive me of that etc.

So you make God, You made God and God is as you define him.

I wish the light was shinier and the truth more eloquent but in truth there is one God and yet billions.  One light one truth and yet more than any can count.  Put even more simply you will be judged by what you and no one else believes because God is in you and you are in God.

My God allows me to say that Jesus Christ was so close to Devine truth that he was the Son not so much for the stories of his ridiculous miracles but because he said “Consider the Lilies of the field how they neither toil nor spin and even Solomon in all his Glory was not arrayed as one of these…so if God so clothes the grass of the field which today is and in the4 morrow is thrown in to the oven, will he not so much the more clothe you…oh ye of little faith.”

One of his followers then defined him and said, “God is Love”.  That is the God I believe in.  He is not vengeful or bitter but kind.  It is a simple truth and the words, written by men, make me believe.

Universal Truth and Other Lies

As you can tell by my often cherry  disposition, I have a lot of unmanaged physical and emotional pain in my life.  I’ll start with the chronic illnesses Emphysema, Diabetes and High Blood Pressure and Arthritis in the joints in my back.  Relax, this isn’t a pity party, I just mention that to excuse my bad behaviour and to say, that in spite of all that I am less comforted by spirituality than ever, even in my earlier less pain filled life.  So when I am writing about spirituality, I am not writing about something that I find emotionally comforting or even  promising.    It’s a simple source of looking deeper into life.

A big bang doesn’t satisfy me….I have to know who lit the match.  If something as immense as the creator of the universe, caused, through evolution, beings to become self-aware, isn’t it reasonable to assume that the creator would be aware of them?  If we can accept that, then it’s not a big stretch to think that if the beings truly screwed up their understanding of truth, he might walk amongst them as one of them and offer a better explanation rooted in compassion rather than dictation.

The first thing we have to consider is that faith, religion  and belief are all separate topics.  The Bible is not an authoritative source of Universal Truth.  It is fundamentally a book written by men about who they think is God.  It does not offer scientific evidence or concrete verifiable evidence or even accurate history.  It is what it is, a story about some guy named Yahweh Tetragrammaton and his kid Jesus.

Is it lies?  Yes! But it also contains truth.  Like all good stories it contains a lot of hyperbole.  The miracles probably happened but  in a very minor way.  I am sure Jesus did feed a lot of people with very little and I am sure that Lazarus probably seemed dead when he was brought to life.  Am I suggesting he was not Divine?  No I am saying that his divinity was not established by miracles.  Am I saying that miracles don’t exist?  Not at all.

Every day of my life I get a chance to make someone laugh and in that laughter they get a moment of joy and in that moment of joy they find solace and peace and in that moment they truly discover God.  That is a Moment of Eternity…that is a miracle coming from a man  who lives in relative agony.  When you cut your finger, blood cells crust over the cut allowing the epidermis to cover the broken area and in a few days you can hardly tell where the cut was…that is a miracle…that through hundreds of millenia we have adapted this incredible healing power.

The problem with organized religions are that they have stopped searching for truth and started selling the lies they know.  Real religion is a constant state of discovery and continual redefining of truth.  It evolves and grows and never finishes discovering who and what the Truth is.   Defining God wasn’t supposed to be easy.  There is no accurate rule book…no set of rules to play by that if you do them, God will find you perfect.  Jesus calls this sort of sin based definition of God as hypocrisy.  “Hypocrite …take the huge sins out of your own eye before you even think of telling someone else about their sins. ”  He even defined god-like behaviour as doing things for others…”whatever you did not do for the least of these, you did not do for me.”  He and Moses both referred to the essence of true religion  as being to love god and love each other the way you want to be loved.

The plain reality is that the Universal Creator is  far too complex an entity for us to define in any one book.  Although John comes close to offering the most satisfying definition for me, “God is Love and he that abides in Love abides in God and God in him”

So then are we just the sum of our human parts?  Is there more to life than this? Are we mortal or are we eternal?  Contrary to fundamentalist and Roman Catholic belief, Jesus did not just show up to add new rules and make life more difficult.  Rather his focus was establishing eternity and opening up the doors to everyone that wants in.  This eternity is not locked in the space-time continuum.  As  he said, “A day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is but a day in the kingdom of God”  So time is irrelevant.  To reach it, one must die.  On the cross he said to the other condemned, “Today you’ll be with me in Paradise.

But does eternity exist?  It does. It’s in everything we see and do.  Humans  evolved from the  life elements found in dust and when they die they are transformed back into dust.  But what of the soul?  Do we have one and if we do what does the soul transform into?  The only empiracle  evidence of a soul is in the electrical  impulses of a dying person seem to live on for a time after the body is dead.  Eternity is necessary to establish some form of justice…some measure of fairness to life.  Sure he was born rich and lived a pretty cushy existence but its easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of god.  The existence of an afterlife is an inherent promise of religion.  Without that, life would be enormously unfair but with the promise of paradise for the good and eternal retribution for the evil, life seems a bit more palatable.  But what evidence is there that when we die we just cease to exist?  There is none there either…its just easier to understand logically.

If we listen to Jesus he promised reward for enduring the sufferings of this present age.  “Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” and again to his fellow condemned, “Today you will be with me in paradise”.  The dust we are made from and the dust we become after death is the same substance that was at the beginning of the universe…so we are already eternal.   Then it comes back to the original supposition, if we are made to be aware of the possibility of a god, there is an equal chance that he/she/it is aware of us.  That we are all part of a mystical body of truth and our physical beings limited by linear time, are in fact vessels that prevent us from joining  an eternal truth.