“I hate this sort of thing,” I complained. “I know they’re going to hate me!”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sean replied, “They are going to love you - just like I do.” Though I was focused on the road ahead, I still caught a glimpse of his ‘wicked boy’ smile out of the corner of my eye.
“I hope so,” I thought. We were in my Mom’s Astra, driving out to Hampton, where Sean’s parents lived. It was mid December 1975, exams were over, and our little bun had been baking for almost three months now. I hadn’t mentioned it to Sean yet - why bother, when 25 percent of all pregnancies end in miscarriage anyway? I had found that little ray of hope in the Encyclopedia Britannica. Maybe I would get lucky and that would happen to me. God, what a terrible thing to wish for, I thought.
“Jesus! You look like you are going to the gallows,” Sean said. “Really! They will like you! And it’s just for a couple of hours.”
Ya, right, they’re gonna love me, I thought. Sean had already warned me that his parents weren’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type.
“Up here, on the right, it’s the gray one,” he pointed as we crossed a short covered bridge. Hampton was a small rural community at the time and their house was set back a bit from the road, half hidden by trees and bushes. Despite the fact that the leaves had long since fallen and lay rotting at their base, the gray branches provided a gnarly, crooked barrier of camouflage. Gray was a generous description of the house - it was an incredibly dreary little place with the unloved appearance of decay and neglect. It literally exuded despair and I was suddenly overwhelmed by a deep black rush of depression. Some seriously unhappy people live here, I thought.
I parked the car where he indicated, shut the engine off and took a deep breath. “Okay - let’s do this,” I said. We went around to the back of the car and I opened the trunk so he could get his duffel bag.
“Funny,” he said, looking around, “looks like they’re out. Truck’s not here…”
Suits me just dandy! I thought. “Right - well if that’s the case,” I said, “I might as well head right back, the weather might turn and I don’t want to be driving back in the dark anyway.”
“For Christ’s sake - what are you talking about? It’s only 11 am! I’m sure they’ll be back soon. Lighten up, will you?” He leaned in to kiss me and gave my boob a playful squeeze.
“So, this is your girlfriend,” accused a sullen voice from behind us. She had the back door open, but was still masked behind the wooden screen door. She too looked gray, face, hair, clothes, all the same bland gray as the weathered siding on the house. Jesus! How long had she been standing there eavesdropping on us, I wondered, feeling the blood suddenly flushing to my face.
“Mom! Great to see you!” Sean said, turning to stride towards the house. He pulled open the screen door and planted a peck on her cheek. Then he turned and held his hand out to beckon me. “This is Ellie. Ellie, this is my Mom, Greszelda…”
What the f…? I thought - no, no, he had said Lois - Christ, I knew her name was Lois. What was wrong with me? I took another deep breath, walked towards the door and stuck out my hand, feeling stupid by the gesture even as I did it. She just stared down at my hand - a deadpan expression on her stony gray face - cold eyes black to the iris rims. “Nice to meet you,” I chirped as I dropped my hand. She grunted and turned into the house.
---
“Your father’s up to the curlin’ club,” she said, her back to us as she rummaged around her kitchen cupboards, looking for God knows what. Certainly there had been no offer to come in, sit down, take a load off, sidle up to the food trough. Sean and I stood just inside the kitchen door, which I swear was gray, too - in fact all this gray - the sky, the house, the kitchen, Sean’s mother, the day, the mood… I had the distinctly unpleasant feeling of being sucked into an old black and white episode of the Twilight Zone. I decided to seek escape, for a few minutes at least.
“Could I use your washroom?” I asked. She tilted her head without turning around. I found it in the stillness of the main hallway.
I had just finished washing my hands and was opening the bathroom door when I realized they were arguing in the kitchen. “You are supposed to be going to school down there - not chasing girls!” she hissed. “Squandering our money and you’ll have nothing to show for it in the end. Again. I’d have thought you’d have learned your lesson last time - flunking out of university! Don’t you care about your future?”
“Oh Mom - it’s not like that at all. She’s smart and a big help to me. If it weren’t for her I wouldn’t have made it through this term at all.”
I made a noise of closing the bathroom door behind me and stepped back into the kitchen, practically skulking over to stand by Sean who was still by the back door. His face looked strained - in fact, I could swear he was already starting to take on the gray pallor that permeated every aspect of this dreary place.
“Yes, well, I think we’ll pop down to the curling club,” he said. “I’d like to introduce Ellie to some of my friends from down home here. We’ll look around for Dad while we’re there,” he said, ushering me out the screen door. I guessed that this wasn’t the time to give them the happy news about the forthcoming addition to the family, so I pushed through the door behind him, digging my keys out of my pocket.
Sean either assumed, or pretended, that I hadn’t heard their muted argument and babbled cheerfully as we drove the mile or so down the lazy main street to the curling club. “You see, it’s the only place in town, besides the legion, where you can go for a drink,” he explained. “And only old guys go to the legion…”
---
We walked into the curling club bar to find it absolutely packed. The only light in the place came from behind the grimy counter, shining down on the glass shelves that lined the mirror behind the bartender. Orange plastic cup chairs surrounded each of the small, round bar tables and, from what little I could discern in the dim light, all were populated with old geezers in John Deere trucker caps. I wondered who could possibly be at the legion. The room was choked with blue smoke, which swirled over the heads of the patrons. Country music droned low out of a jukebox in the corner. Charming, I thought.
Sean eyed some buddies across the room and raised a hand in salute. Cries of welcome ensued, and we pushed our way through the crowd to join them. I’m not sure how, or from where, but chairs were produced and we sat down to join them. A proverbial moose of a guy, with close cropped brown hair and a neck like a bull, was the first to welcome us. “Sean, old buddy! Who you got here now?” He was dressed in faded overalls and sported the ubiquitous John Deere cap; it looked like it had been deep fried in motor oil.
“Ellie, this is Ted. He has an IQ of 50, but we love him anyway!” In response to this, Ted punched Sean hard in the arm but laughed as he did it.
“Nice to meet you Ellie! Can I get you a drink?” Ted smiled.
“Sure thanks - I’ll have a Schooner please.” Ted rose, heading for the bar.
“Alpine for me, please!” Sean called after him, rubbing his arm.
“I know that, Romeo!” Ted snorted over his shoulder.
Smiling, Sean introduced me to his other friends. Rob, a quiet, neat guy, with brown wavy hair and a round, friendly face, was in second year of engineering at UNB. He and Sean had roomed together in first year, before Sean had flunked out. He looked a bit more up-market than Ted, in a red leather UNB engineering jacket and skin tight white t-shirt. The third guy was the quiet one of the group, thin and blond - Randy - and fashionably middle of the road between the other two in faded jeans and a checked flannel shirt. We exchanged greetings all around and by then Ted was back with a tray of beers.
“Merry Christmas, everyone!” Ted cheered as he raised one to us. We all lifted our glasses and echoed his toast. I took a lusty haul off of mine - I needed it after that scene at the house.
Sean drained his glass without stopping to even breathe, slammed the glass down on the table, grabbed my hand, and started to rise. “Now, time to come meet my Dad.” He looked round to each of his friends and smiled, “We’ll be back in a minute.”
Sean’s dad turned out to have about half the charm of his mother.
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Defining Moments
Adventure'Defining Moments’ is the story of Ellie Ward, a professor with a knack for making bad decisions at life’s crossroads, often with tragic consequences. At the age of nine, Ellie accidentally discovers a time portal near her childhood home, one that o...
