The Reunion

The Reunion

As I stood in line and waited for my turn at Tim's for my double-double down at the Square, I turned around and saw a part of my past flash before me. I thought I recognized the girl who stood in the other line, almost directly alongside me. I couldn't resist the urge to stare, but I didn't want to appear obvious. Her face was familiar, and I was almost beyond tempted to call her by her nickname, Brat. We had been the very best friends, sisters, and we shared everything that sisters share. We even took vows of forever sisterhood in the woods behind Pinecrest Drive, slashing our palms in spiritual ceremony that bonded us as blood sisters forever. We put our palms together and allowed the blood trickle down our wrists. My mind reeled back to another time, another place....

There was the Friendship Apartment, that run-down hovel on Brule Street, the bottom half covered in black tar paper and the top half painted a hot shade of pink, with its overgrown front lawn where the grass reached your waist. The landlord was an evil ass who walked in at will, no matter how late it was. I soon learned about the Tenancy Board and how the kind folks there helped us out. It was there I drank my first Purple Jesus and was horribly hung over for the next three miserable days. When we were evicted in the spring, we fought tooth and nail and eventually got the building shut down by the authorities for a few years, giving the landlord the well-deserved tag of slum lord.

There were our jobs--me with the railway and her with Agnew Shoes at Bayer's Road Shopping Center. She wasn't keen on her boss, but she taught me a valuable lesson. It was something called tact. "Listen to whatever a boss says, but agree to disagree," she counseled me. "That way, you cannot get into trouble nor can you get nailed for insubordination. If you can, just pretend to do whatever is asked. It works for me, and by the next day, Mr. Bates forgets about it."

There were the fun-filled weekends up in St. John, where Brat had a boyfriend and they were engaged. "What a marvellous idea!" she exclaimed with delight at my suggestion of a personalized t-shirt that says HUBBY IN TRAINING. We couldn't wait to get there to give it to him at his Pitt Street apartment. Brat and I had a lot of fun that summer before everything went wrong. We travelled, stayed out all night, and were sisters in every sense of the word. Life was sweet.

Enter Beel, the slimeball she met on an extended stay in St. John whilst I held down the fort at home. "Oh, he's so wonderful," she gushed when we walked into the Pitt Street apartment. Roy, her Hubby In Training, was away on missionary duty in Charlottetown and would be gone for another few days. "You know, I'm thinking of dumping Roy."
I was completely flabbergasted, for I always thought that she loved Roy more than anyone in the world. "But, you and Roy are to be wed! What happened? Did you two get into a fight?" My mouth was dry and I couldn't utter another word.
"I think Beel's more exciting. Come and meet him!" She was blushing and radiant and as excited as a child in a candy store as I followed her into the kitchen. At the table sat this scruffy-looking man with graying black hair and scraggly mustache. Right away I disliked him. There was something about him that gave me the willies. A closer look at Brat's new crush revealed that he didn't wash himself as often as he should. I could count the yellow perspiration stains on his white shirt and he certainly could use deodorant. I shook his hand, but my smile was not a warm one. I shivered when I withdrew it and excused myself to make fast for the bathroom so I could scrub them clean.
"What do you think?" Brat asked me later when we were alone at the apartment.
"I don't know. What's up with Roy? It's kind of soon."
Brat grinned as we settled in front of the telly. "Well, I guess Roy and I are growing apart. He doesn't want to convert and Beel's a Mormon. I don't have so much in common with Roy anymore. He's way too religious, too serious. He won't make love to me until we are husband and wife. I cannot wait any longer."
I suppressed my horror. She was having sex with this man and engaged to another! That explained why Brat had a sudden obsession with Mormonism, Nephi, Joseph Smith, and their Book of Mormon. She had been reading it for quite some time, even taking it down to Nanny's on the weekends. "Are you going to change over?"
Brat shrugs. "I'm thinking about it. You know, it's an interesting religion. It has a lot more freedoms than the Baptist faith." I never told her, but I interpreted the whole deal as a kind of permission for her to indulge in sex.

Not long afterward, I discovered to my disgust that Beel was a married man with a wife and three children. At home, I noticed that Brat wasn't the same girl anymore. She was changed. Everything was Beel. Her world revolved around him and I begin to feel left out. In his absence, she became waspish and temperamental. "What's the matter, Kid?" she asked me one night when she noticed me brooding. I decided that I must get it off my chest.
"I don't like what's been happening. This Beel is married and it's so wrong. I don't know what to think. I don't want to sound disapproving, but I smell a rotting kettle of fish."
"It's OK! Mormons have more than one wife." She tried hard to convince me that the practice was common, but I didn't buy it for a minute.
"I don't think I would want to be sharing my mate with another woman. It's so gross!"
"Lorna doesn't like me right now, but in time she will."
"Oh my God, Brat!" I turned away to hide my repulsion. "But, it's your decision. I would never do it in a million years for no amount of money!" I decided to back off for now and leave well enough alone. Even at the wedding before the justice of the peace, I kept my mouth shut. After all, it's her choice. All I could do was be there for her in case the axe should fall to sever her happiness in one cruel blow.

One fateful night, they arrived at my apartment. When she moved up to St. John, I took a one-bedroom basement apartment that was more affordable. "We need a place to stay for a while," she told me as she led a huge Great Dane into the apartment. With them were three children, all under 10. I was beyond mortified at this awful intrusion into my privacy. The landlord forbade any kind of critter in the building, and I had no room for all of these guests. I noticed that the big Chevy in the parking lot was a St. John cab. It isn't until later I learned that it was stolen, used as a getaway because Beel punched someone out at the Centracare in St. John and police were looking for him. I was not happy with the idea of harbouring fugitives. "You know this has to be a short-time thing. If the landlord finds out, I'll be on the street," I told her privately.
"We're looking for a place to live and then a job once we're settled," she reassured me. "You won't get into trouble. We're sisters!"

A month later, I got the phone bill. They have been with me for more than a month and I was getting worried. I opened the bill and noticed all these unauthorized long-distance calls. They were all to St. John. Not one appeared job or house-related. "Brat, what on Earth is this? How are you going to pay for your calls?" I confronted her that same night when the tensions were running high and everyone was bickering over privacy, food and places to sleep.
"I will, don't worry. I am going to find a job," she tried to reassure me. "I've been looking all day, every day."
"Well, I hope that you find something soon. I cannot pay this by myself. Three hundred bucks!"
"I told you not to worry! I will fix you up."

Weary from a lack of privacy and their lack of contribution to the household, I blew up. The phone bill was past due and another one soon to arrive. Besides, they wanted to bring Lorna down to stay at the apartment. I flatly refused to let a strange woman live in my house. "Brat, do you have any money to help me out here? I've been really good about your intentions to find work and a place to live. I mean, this place is too small for all of us. And no, I don't want that woman here. There's no room!"
At that moment, Beel leaped from the couch and grabbed me by my throat. He pushed me against the wall and I kicked him in the groin, causing him to double over. "That's enough!" I screamed in a rage as the boil of anger and frustration finally breaks. "I want you all out of here tonight! You have had more than enough time to find jobs and a place to live! I want my home and privacy back! You're parasites!"
"My diamond ring is missing!" Brat screamed back in my face. "You took it on me! I want it back! NOW!"
"I never took your ring! I don't wear jewellery!"
"Then, I'll see you in court!" she threatened. "You had no right to kick my husband!"
"I had every right! I could have him charged right now for assault!

Before long, I lost my phone service. The phone company pretended to be sympathetic when I explained my predicament, but they wanted the bill paid in full before they will restore my service. Brat refused to help in any way and she found a little cabin in Hatchett Lake. She had welfare instead of a job and couldn't pay me back. Angry and hurt, I filed a claim in Claims Court. She retaliated with a counter-claim for the theft of the ring and monies owed. She visited my workplace to try her intimidation tactics, forcing me to be more polite than I should considering the circumstances. Come court day, I was scared to death. I pleaded my case before the adjudicator, who awarded me the damages because Brat and Beel did not show up. In addition, the adjudicator put a 20-year lien on any future property or monies she may inherit. I was not thrilled, but at least I didn't walk out of the courtroom empty-handed. Shortly afterward, Beel made the papers after being charged with bigamy. To my dismay, he was cleared because he lied his way out of it and convinced the judge that his marriage to Brat is legal. No doubt Lorna worked in the background to help him out of that dilemma. Within days, they fled the province, not to be heard from again.

"Your name wouldn't be Anne?" I asked the stranger in the other line. "I had a roommate by that name a long time ago, something like twenty years. Her nickname was Brat and you look so much like her. We were blood sisters."
"My name is Anne," she told me with a big smile. "Remember this?" She showed me the scar on her palm. I noticed there were no rings on her fingers.
"I certainly do!" Thrilled, I proudly showed her my scar. "It was a vow of sisterhood, taken in the woods of Pinecrest Drive! That place is all built up now."
We got our treats and headed into the food court to catch up on our lives. She was no longer with Beel and had no ties to him or anyone from her past. "It is so nice to run into you like this," she told me. "I hope we can be sisters again. I know I hurt you badly way back when and I'm truly sorry. It has haunted me forever."
But, I have not forgotten the old hurts. "I was very bitter for a long time, Brat. But, it's all water under the bridge and I have put it behind me and moved on. You are forgiven!"
"You know, I feel so bad about all what had happened twenty years ago. I was stupid to get mixed up in this Mormonism thing and I realize that marrying Beel was a horrible mistake. I regret the hurt I caused you."
I paused and gave her a hug. "It's OK--we're older and wiser now. What's done is done. Come, Joey'll be waiting outside at the bus stop for me. I'm sure he'll want to meet my blood sister."

© LeighAnne
18 November '09