Queen's Park

CHAPTER 11

There was a familiar ache in Ernie’s elbow.

Scout wheezed but refused to surrender to the pressure of the collar around her neck.

“Heel!” Ernie said. They followed a six foot fence running along John Laurie Boulevard.

Scout turned, glanced up at him and sat.

Dropping on his knees, he got eye to eye. “Look, when we get to the park I’ll take the leash off.” Ernie stood, felt the unfamiliar familiarity of a head spin, and shook his head to clear the dizziness. “Shit!”

It took another five minutes of the pair working against the leash until they reached the opening in the chain link fence. Just inside the gate was a sign with the silhouette of a dog in a green circle and the words OFF LEASH AREA across the bottom. To the right of the sign sat a garbage can. The combination of heat and its contents filled the nearby air with the earthy scent of, “Shit! Scout! Sit still and I’ll take off the leash!”

Upon release, Scout was instantly at full speed. Ernie followed along the pathway; a shallow hollow worn into the prairie grass. It curved through the trees and down a gully.

Ernie heard the wind chime clinking of dog tags as Scout scrambled in the half hop, half lumbering gate she adopted when running downhill. She disappeared beyond the layers of grass, brush and trees. She barked twice.

At the sound of the dog’s whimpering, Ernie ran ahead and turned right into an area where the trees opened into ankle high grass.

Scout was on her back, paws clawing the air.

Red hair fell forward, covering the face of the person scratching Scout’s belly. Ernie took in the sandals, black shorts and white, sleeveless cotton shirt.

“Better watch out,” he said.

She stood. He caught a glimpse of cleavage. The recognition in her blue eyes turned frown into a smile.

“She…”

Scout peed.

“Ohhh!” She stepped back.

Green was definitely her colour, Ernie decided. “Sorry, Lesley.”

She checked her legs and sandals, “No problem, she missed me.”

“It’s just that she gets so… ” Ernie said.

“Excited. I remember what she was like as a pup.”

“Glad to see you, that’s all.”

Scout sat as if in apology.

“Has to be the sweetest dog around.” Lesley said.

The dog raised up on her back legs, and snapped her front teeth on a passing bee.

“She eats bees?”

“And never gets stung,” he said.

“How’ve you been, Ernie? I haven’t seen you for at least a month.” Both knew what she was asking.

He thought about the answer, went to say something and stopped, afraid it might trigger a flashback.

“Sorry.” She reached out to brush her hand against his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just, you know, we used to be able to talk to each other.”

“I can’t remember much and what I can remember…”

Lesley took her right hand and pushed fingers through her hair, pulling the red back from her face. “It’s so hot and I thought it might be cooler down here in the trees.”

Then the words came out of Ernie’s mouth in a rush. “I get flashbacks. He put a knife to my nose.” He tapped a forefinger over the scar on his nose. “I hit him and we fell.” No that’s not all of it, he thought. Tell someone all of it! Maybe it’ll help.

Her eyes were on him, waiting.

“Onions. He had onions on his breath. Every time I smell them, every time I think of the smell of them, I get a flashback.” Ernie could see the blade of the knife. Uncle Bob’s threat came back to him. ‘I’ll cut your friggin’ nose off and then carve out your heart. Now, on your knees!’ Ernie felt his index and middle fingers corkscrewing themselves into a weapon. There was the sound of a zipper being opened. Ernie’s right hand struck out. He remembered the feel of that soft, fleshy ‘V’ at the base of his Uncle’s throat.

“Ernie?” Lesley said.

Scout barked.

“Ernie!?”

He opened his eyes.

Lesley’s hand touched the side of his face. Her perfume reminded him of raspberries and summers past.

“What’s the matter, Ernie?”

“Flashback,” Ernie said.

“What did he do to you?”

“He… ” How do I tell her? How do I say it? “He was telling me to get to my knees and he was undoing his zipper.”

“God!”

“I hit him. We fell and I don’t remember anything else till I woke up in the hospital.”

“Did they catch him yet?”

He shook his head.

“What does your grandfather know about it?” Lesley said.

“What?”

“The police are there and two guys have been parked in front of my house watching his place for most of the day.”

“Lesley says the police were here. And there were two guys watching your house.” They sat in Ernesto’s kitchen at the oak table. Lesley sat next to the doll.

Nonno said, “Don’t know ‘bout a grey car, and neither does Nonna. Asks if you want some iced tea, though.”

Ernie looked at Lesley. Then he looked at Scout, who had her chin between her paws and belly cooling on the hardwood floor. “Sure.”

Ernie and Lesley sat across from one another as the old man stood. Nonna sat with her hands resting on the table.

Ernie glanced at the photographs in the front room. He’d counted them countless times; sixteen framed portraits. It was a record of his growing up. He hoped Lesley hadn’t noticed one in particular.

She pointed and laughed, “Look at those cheeks!” It was a bare backside photo of him on a white rug with two broad smiles running at right angles.

“Nonna says it’s her favourite picture.” Nonno slid the pitcher of iced tea to the center of the table. Ernie poured and watched as Lesley carefully set one glass in front of Nonna.

Nonno smiled. “You understand.”

“You miss her. I understand that,” Lesley said.

Ernie watched the smooth flesh on Lesley’s arms and the way the muscles moved when her hand gripped the glass.

“Those guys in the grey car looked like ex-wrestlers or football players,” Lesley said.

“Uncle Bob’s friends.” Ernie looked at his dog.

“The ones who kicked Scout?” Nonno said.

Ernie nodded.

“They still there?” The old man pushed his chair back.

“We already checked,” Lesley said. “They’re gone.”

“What did the police want?” Ernie said.

“Just asking questions.” Nonno sat back down.

“About what?” Ernie said.

Lesley pointed at the doll. “Did you see that?”

“What?”

“She blinked,” Lesley said.

Nonno said, “She does that when she’s mad at me.”

“What kinds of questions?” Ernie shook his head. Why can’t I have a normal family? he thought.

“Don’t ask,” Nonno said.

They waited.

Nonno said to Nonna, “But we can’t tell him everything.”

He leaned back in his chair.

Lesley looked at Nonno, then at Ernie.

“Nanny told me if it wasn’t for her, I’d be in jail. What did she mean?” Ernie said.

Nonno shrugged. “She’s gotta big mouth.”

“And you said you have to protect me.” Ernie waited but his grandfather said nothing. “From what?”

“Look, your Uncle was a son a ma bitch.” Nonno hesitated as if inviting disagreement. “Ever since he met your Aunt Judy, he’s been trouble for your family.”

“I know that.”

“He tried to hurt you, said he’d cut off your nose and you defended yourself,” Nonno said.

“I know that.”

“What more do you need to know?”

“What happened to Bob!?” Ernie said.

Nonno turned his back on the doll and crossed his arms. “What does she say?” Lesley said and put her hand over her mouth.

Nonno looked at the wall behind Lesley.

“Well, what does she say?” Ernie said.

“I’m not talkin’ to her.”

“How come?” Lesley said.

“We’re arguin’.”

“And you won’t tell us what she’s saying?” Lesley leaned her elbows on the table.

“No.” Nonno raised his hands over his head and said to the doll, “Non me’ rompere i coglioni!”

Lesley turned to Ernie, “What’d he say?”

“Don’t break my balls.”