Queen's Park

CHAPTER 18

Lane stared without focusing on the spring green painted on one wall of their living room. The colour made him think of wine.

He found the colour appealing, just as Arthur had said he would. It had been Arthur’s idea. Lane had resisted at first, but gave in when it became apparent he had no good reason for disagreeing.

Arthur had a gift for colour and, after the initial period of adjustment, Lane had found he liked the decor. It was kind of like the way he and Arthur had started off almost 20 years ago. After a bit of adjustment, they’d liked the way things worked out.

Freed of jacket, tie and gun, Lane poured a beer for himself and another for Arthur who sat hunched over the coffee table. He was reading a photocopied newspaper article.

Lane sipped his beer. “This is the best batch so far.”

“Hmmmm.” Arthur kept his eyes on the article with the headline, PLAYER CONVICTS COACH WITH VIDEOTAPED EVIDENCE.

Riley took a deep, long breath to voice his impatience.

“He’s mad because we haven’t taken him for a walk yet today,” Lane said.

“Ummm. He’ll get over it just like you’ll get over being mad at me. Maybe Riley’ll stay away from porcupines.”

Lane ignored the gibe and pushed the glass closer to Arthur. He lifted his own beer, glancing at the rising golden bubbles. “Looks good.” He took a sip. “Tastes better.”

Lane sagged into the couch and waited.

After more than five minutes, Arthur sat back.

“Interesting.”

“How?”

“Randy worked with Ernesto?”

“I’m not sure for how long but they did work together,”

Lane said.

“And Randy won’t talk?”

“He talks but says very little.”

“Like the other guy?” Arthur snapped his fingers in a vain attempt to recall the name.

“Ray.”

Arthur pointed at the article, “Randy’s been put through the ringer. I remember the media frenzy. His face was on the front page of every newspaper in the country. He accused a coach who’d won the Stanley Cup.”

“The coach was convicted.”

“So was the trainer.”

“Randy was 15 and 16 when it happened,” Lane said.

“He was a first round draft pick.”

“And he ended up working in the cemetery.” Lane lifted his glass.

“What’s it like?”

“It’s a quiet place. A bit of an oasis. It’s safe. Peaceful,”

Lane said.

“So?” Arthur said.

“Randy found a place where he is out of the spotlight.”

“To heal?” Arthur said.

“I think so. And I get the feeling he deliberately tried to mislead me.” Lane looked through the edge of his glass and it magnified the photograph below the headline. He set the glass down. Pulling the article closer he said, “Look at this.”

“What?” Arthur said.

Lane had his finger on the face of a man who stood behind Randy as they left the courthouse.

“Who’s that?”

“Looks like Ernesto Rapozo.”