Andrea Rudy

Adam Engel

Last Run of the Season

After two weeks away, the first thing Charlotte noticed was how the Whistler streets smelt like cinnamon. Pastries steamed in bakery windows, the yeasty smell of fresh bread pumped out storefront vents, and waiters leaned against open doors in cobblestone alleyways smoking between rush hours. That evening she met up with her friend Lori at Athena's after a log shift at the shop. They sat beside the window, ate souvlaki and drank wine. "Brad left," Lori told her between dinner and dessert. "He and Jen split, and now he's gone back to school."

Brad was the snowboarder of the moment. "Just like that?" Charlotte asked.

"Just like that."

"What about boarding?"

"He was never at the top. It wasn't going to go anywhere; everyone knew."

"Strange how he just packed it in. It's not going to be the same without him."

Lori poured out the last inch from the half carafe between the two glasses. It was a pale, mild Greek wine, and in the yellow light of the candles looked like water. She looked at Charlotte. "In two weeks it'll seem like he was never here. That's what this place is like, people always coming and going, but the constant change somehow makes it stay the same."

"I guess so."

"He might come back, who knows? And if he does maybe no one he'd remember will be here, and yet it will be the same for him. Most places aren't like that, most places a person can't go back to."

"Of everywhere you’ve lived, is this your favourite?"

Lori reached out for her glass. "I don't think so. Have you seen Jake yet?"

"No." Had Charlotte met Lori in another place they wouldn't have been such fast friends. Lori drifted from town to city, from beach to mountain, never getting bogged down with life's routines.

"I'm thinking of leaving," Lori said.

"You serious?"

"Yeah. Not right away, but in a few weeks. I'm getting tired of the snow."

"But in another couple months the snow will be gone."

"Probably San Francisco. Drive along the coast through wine country."

"Will you pass through Seattle?"

"Yeah."

Charlotte reached for her wine and took a large gulp, "I could go with you," she said suddenly.

Lori pushed her stringy hair off her forehead. "Really?"

"Or not. It doesn't matter. It's just an idea."

"No, that's fine. I just didn't think you'd want to. You've kind of made yourself a little life here."

"San Francisco . . . trolley cars and steep streets."

"It's a great city. The drive is even better. Fields of grapes, dry rolling hills, little town after little town of stucco homes with clay-tiled roofs. I've been thinking of heading down for a while."

"Would you get a job?"

"Maybe. Perhaps in one of those little tourist shops by the waterfront."

It sounded nice, and quite the thing to do at that moment. "You'll let me know when you’re thinking of leaving?" Charlotte asked.

"Yeah, of course. You'll need to give notice."

Charlotte saw Jake the next day when they were on the same shift. He gave her a big hug behind the counter, and squeezed tighter than he should have. "Charlotte! You're back." His voice was light, and he gave her a kiss when no one was looking. "We'll have to go for a drink after work," he said, and pulled at her thin, pale ponytail.

"What's been going on?"

He told her about the skiing, how the snow was getting wetter and the crowds were thinning out, although a large group of last-minute skiers from London showed up that week. They were the rowdiest ones all season. Lay-offs would probably start soon on the mountain, but Janet had already gone ahead and hired a new girl in anticipation of staff leaving. His brother Vince was doing well, wanted to see her when she got back, so she should come over later that night after they went for a bite to eat or a drink or whatever it was they got up to. He chatted on about who'd left, casually mentioned Brad was gone, and told her that the crew of New Zealand girls were heading down the coast to California for the summer, though he didn't imagine they'd get beyond Vancouver.

His jaw muscles flexed as he chewed on his gum and spoke about things Charlotte had learned from Lori the day before. She smiled and nodded, and listened with one ear. What he was telling her was that there wasn’t another girl anymore. But she'd been passed over once already, and she knew there was some saying about a fool. Charlotte wandered over to a disturbed stack of sweaters and started straightening them. She pulled the fabrics across the plastic folding board, and stacked according to size.

Jake followed her to the back table. "Is something wrong? Did something happen back home?" He placed his hand on top of hers and gripped her shoulder with the other. "What is it?" But she couldn't get the words out. Her shoulders gave in to the weight of his arm, and she said nothing.

They ended up walking to his place after all, and that night, Charlotte felt a new kind of need. It came in with the cold mountain air through the small opening in the window, caught her in the throat, and moved down to her gut. His words bristled her ears, Oh Charlotte, his breath touched her neck, and she saw the beauty of her pale skin next to his tanned arms in the faint streetlight. It was his need that she needed, his words that told her what she wanted to believe.

"It's lonely when you're not around," he said.

"I might leave again."

"Even if I don't want you to?"

She nodded her head in the dark, climbed on top of him, and pulled the blanket tightly to her shoulders.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," he said. They were only words for that moment, Charlotte knew.

Jake moved her body against his with honest instinct, and sadness rose through her, a feeling of loss as he pulled her to his mouth and gripped the small of her back. She lowered her head to the pillow and he whispered on her way down how good she felt. She felt it too, and cried into the sheets over their muscled ignorance. His skin smelled like peat, like the moist earth of the temperate rainforest floor.

It was dark out the next morning when she woke, and the hallway light leaked into the room under the closed door. The sound of his roommate Vince getting ready for work in too, so she lay there in silence waiting for him to leave, feeling happier than she had in months. She looked at Jake's turned back, and had no worries about all the lies she'd told. He wasn't one wanting truth.

A few years after her mother moved out, her father gave her a talk about lies. He'd been making macaroni and cheese for dinner, and she was sitting at the kitchen, watching as he read the box, measured out the milk, and added the bright orange powder.

"Always tell the truth and you'll never get into trouble," he said, while watching the water boil. "A lie will stay with you forever."

"I know," Charlotte had answered. She was thinking of the missing box of chocolates he'd asked about the other day, and thought maybe he was on to her.

"People are going to lie to you and sometimes you aren't going to know, but if you do find out, never forget it. A lie tells more about a person than anything else."

Charlotte whispered Jake's name to his broad, warm back, and wondered if her parents had ever lain together like this; her father's back turned, and her mother's silent frustration growing with every sign of detachment, with every touch not given, emotional word not spoken, and need not shared.

The faint sound of cereal being poured broke the silence. Vince. He would understand. Charlotte quickly pulled on her clothes, collected her things, and wandered out to the bright kitchen. His hair hadn't been brushed, and he looked up quickly startled by her sudden appearance. "Hey! I heard you were back," he said.

"Morning. What are you having?"

"Just some granola. Want some?"

"Yeah, sure." She climbed up on the breakfast barstool and watched him pull another bowl from the cabinet. He'd put on more weight in the past two weeks, and was looking better. A few brochures for one of the Vancouver tech schools lay on the counter, and she asked who's they were.

"I'm thinking of taking a program. Did you know an electrician makes over thirty an hour? It's something I could be good at, you know."

Charlotte took the offered bowl of cereal, and reached across the counter for a spoon. "Here you go," Vince said. He pushed the spoon closer, and smiled. "I met a girl who reminded me of you the other day."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. She works at the IGA. I’m thinking I might ask her out sometime."

"That's good."

"Yeah." Vince raised the bowl and drank the remaining milk. "I don't know, we'll see," he said, and wiped his mouth.

"I'm leaving with Lori in a few weeks. We're heading to San Francisco."

"Can I come?"

Charlotte looked up.

"Just kidding," he said, and turned to put his bowl in the sink. "But maybe I can visit sometime, wherever you end up."

"Yeah, I'd like that." Charlotte moved the cereal around with her spoon and watched the few separated flakes grow soggy.

"Not hungry?" Vince asked.

"No, just taking my time." She ate spoonful and looked up. "Vince?" she said.

"Yeah?"

"I don't have any parents." It sounded funny, the words.

There was a brief pause and he started to reach out but pulled back his hand. "God, I'm sorry, Charlotte. What happened?"

"My mom left when I was real young, and my dad died in car accident a few years back. I was driving at the time."

"That's tough." He pushed at his hair and shifted from foot to foot. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too."

Vince's face didn't change, and he didn’t ask for details. He nodded thoughtfully, and finally reached out and touched her hand with cold fingers. "I'm going to miss you, if you leave," he said. "Maybe I'll come find you, months from now when you don't remember my name."

"That won't happen."

"Maybe not, but we'll meet up again. I'll find you when you've forgotten Jake."

Charlotte smiled. "Yeah, sure."

Vince looked at the clock. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Charlotte shook her head. It was her day off, and she was free to do anything. "Hey, what time does your shift end?" she asked.

"Two."

"Do you have anything on? We could ski Blackcomb like we always planned, and maybe go back to my place after."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I've conquered Whistler. It's time for the black diamond runs."

He looked at her without judgment. She wasn't the only one with demons to overcome. The world grew larger by the second with every glance Vince gave telling about lifetimes he'd lived. Charlotte could love a man for all she didn't know that he'd seen and done.

"I'm going home, now," she said. "I might as well walk with you to the village." But at that moment Jake wandered out of the bedroom and asked what was going on.

"Vince is going to work and I’m heading home," Charlotte said.

"Why don't you wait for me?" he asked. "I'm starting at ten, so we can grab a coffee before my shift."

Charlotte looked at Vince, but his hand was already on the door. "That's okay. I'll see you at two?"

"Yeah, I'll meet you at the gondola."

"What's at two?” Jake asked when the door closed.

"We're doing Blackcomb."

"Oh." He scratched at his stomach and pointed to the cupboards. "Help yourself to some breakfast if you want. I’m going to have a shower."

Charlotte wandered to the living room, watched the sun slowly rise above the mountain, slid the balcony door open and breathed in the cold air. Water dripped from the trees, and over night the first signs of spring had somehow appeared. The season was almost over.

Andrea Rudy has an MA in creative writing from the University of New Brunswick. Her stories have been published in various journals and anthologies, and she is currently working on a novel. She lives in Vancouver, British Columbia and constantly dreams about leaving, but has no idea of where to go.