Cardinal Divide by Nina Newington

Author:Nina Newington
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Guernica Editions Inc

Chapter Forty Nine

THERE BUT FOR the grace of God, there but for the grace of God, there but for the grace ... The words click through, relentless as the boxcars passing in front of me, and there she is on East Hastings in the rain, drunk me, strung-out, liver-quitting yellow, skinned bones and bloat blearing at some passer-by who’s not meeting her eyes. Sound of feet on wet sidewalk. Because suddenly she’s sitting, back to the building, legs splayed out. One minute standing, next she’s down and laughing but the laugh twists to a cough that’s like a dog shaking a rag. Moss with a stick. The kill. That’s what Dad called it, that shake. I’m crying on the wet sidewalk, bawling for stern sweet Dad and a black and white dog, my life shit in my mouth. Shit. I’m spitting, spitting it up. Feet making a big circle around me now. Clack clack clack. Gotta get the shit out, retching, yellow, bitter, nothing left, still retching.

‘Hey Meggie, you okay?’ Longest legs you ever saw, tight black miniskirt, plastic for the rain. Pink shaggy sweater. ‘Meggie, you okay?’ Six foot two Dora. Big hand reaching down. Carmine nails. ‘You want up?’

‘I’m done, Dora. I’m done.’

‘C’mon then, hon.’

Crying. ‘I’m done.’

Dora looking in my face, eyelashes curling like a giraffe’s. Big brown eyes. ‘What do you want to do?’

‘I’m done.’

‘Detox?’

I nod.

Honk behind me. Red lights on the caboose disappearing round the bend. I ease across the tracks, heading home. The car passes on the first straight stretch of road. ‘The day you decided to change your life,’ some counsellor said. I was supposed to be taking ownership of my power. To make Positive Choices. Only it wasn’t like that. I tried to describe it to her. She got the patient look so I quit. In all my life it’s the one thing I know for absolute sure is true. It was like an island rose up out of the ocean in front of me. I crawled up on the beach, sat and let the sun dry me out. One day I was a hopeless alcoholic druggie hell-bent on destroying myself. Next I was sober. Never had to pick up again. Which many would call the grace of God. Creator. Whatever. I don’t trust the words. Fuck up a good thing, words.

Mum looking at Dad and me across the turquoise Formica table. ‘Come on then, say something.’

Dad and I looked at each other, opened our mouths, ‘What?’ Same question, exact same tone. We started laughing, Mum too.

‘What’ll I do with you? As much talk in you as a couple of potatoes.’ Dad winked at me.

Looks like a happy memory to me. Jay’s voice in my head. Three of us around the table, square little house, wind ripping into the aspens. Mum and Dad and me, playing happy family. No. Yes. Fuck. The dark rangeland slips past me.

Drunk, I’d creep up to lighted windows, press my face to the glass. Let me in, let me in.

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