The Kissing Fence by B.A. Thomas-Peter

Author:B.A. Thomas-Peter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Novel, British Columbia, Doukhobors, Kootenay, Cultural Heritage, Historical Novel
ISBN: 9781773860428
Publisher: Caitlin Press
Published: 2020-05-12T00:00:00+00:00

5:15 p.m.

The garage door closed behind him and brought a relief that he could not remember feeling before. The house had not been a sanctuary. It was a place to start, to store things, to plan, a base from which he could go and do what he wanted, but not a place to simply be, until today. He could fall asleep in the driver’s seat if not for being wet and reeking of garbage. The truth of the day would have to be hidden somehow, if only he had the energy to create a story of how he came to be in this state. It occurred to him that he often seemed to be disguising his reasons for leaving the house or returning ruffled. The house door from the garage opened and Julie entered as William lifted himself from the Tesla. He had dreaded seeing her, but this too was a relief.

“We’ve been worried about you! Where have you been?” Her face narrowed with something between irritation and concern, and then she saw him. Dirty knees, bloodied shirt, trousers wet, and then the smell of the dumpster found her. “My God, what’s that smell?”

“It’s my hands.” William raced to find a story to tell. “I’ve been in a dumpster.”

“Whatever for? Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“There’s blood on your shirt. Are you hurt?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not mine,” said William. “There was an accident.” A story was emerging as he spoke. “I saw a dumpster tip over as I drove by. There was someone in it, and he was hurt when it went over.”

“You stopped to help?”

“There was nobody else there.”

“Was he badly hurt?”

“I think so. He came down hard on his face. Completely unconscious and didn’t move.”

“Oh my God, was he all right?”

“I don’t know. The ambulance was on its way when I left. It didn’t look good.”

“Let’s get these clothes off you.”

Julie reached for his lapels and pushed his coat over his shoulders. It brought her close enough for him to feel her warmth. He let the coat fall down his arms. She moved quickly to get his wet things off his body, yanking his shirt over his head. He tucked his chin in and allowed his body to bend to the pressure of her pushing and tugging.

“You’re freezing,” she said. “Get your pants off and get in the shower.”

He moved slowly to help her, stepping on his heels and kicking off his shoes, undoing his belt. She dragged the trousers down and he lifted one knee and then the other to be free of them.

“You smell terrible!” The moment was gone. “Just leave everything and get in the shower.”

“Where’s Kelly?” he asked.

“In her room. She had a good day on the mountain.”

“I wish I’d gone with her.”

“She’d have liked that.”

“Thanks for dealing with my clothes.” He reached to put his hand on her shoulder. She pulled away.

“Sorry,” she said. “Your hands.” They both turned their noses up at the smear of blood, the filth and the stench.

“Not very appealing, are they?”

“Dirty hands never are.

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