CONFESSIONS

               Chapter I

               'Zinta please! Steop ... tickling me!' I hung from the branch 
               of an old apple tree. A bet was on that I couldn't hang on 
               to the branch for one minute. The sun was in my face and my 
               feet were bare over the long grass field. It was when Zinta 
               realized caressing my thighs and butt wasn't going to make 
               me fall that she started tickling under my arms.

               'I'm not letting go, Zinta, I'm not going to!'

               Then she looked at her watch and said, 'You have fifty-nine 
               seconds to go.'

               'ZINTA!' I yelled. 'Don't make me go longer than I have to, 
               please!'

               'Fifty-eight, fifty-five, now look what you've done, I lost 
               count, I have to start all over again.'

               'Hurry up then, count quickly before I fall.'

               Zinta looked up at me with sympathy in her face, caressed 
               the front of my pants, hugged me and then said, 'don't worry, 
               you win, let go and I'll ...' I let go and I fell on top of 
               her. We lay together. She kissed my neck, I bit her ear. 
               Zinta unzipped her fly and said, 'I can't believe my first 
               time is going to be with a twelve year old.'

               I was just as surprised my first time was going to be with a 
               fourteen year old.

               "Bernard! Bernard ... Well he looks okay."

               "Zinta? Did you say something?"

               "There he said it again. Get Zinta. This is funny, we must 
               have said her name while we've been talking to each other. 
               He garbles everything else but says Zinta clear enough." 
               Someone was talking about me. "Back to the so-called cuts. 
               He's waking up anyway so I'm going to just rip off the 
               bandages."

               "Ahhh! That hurts! Oh damn I'm just dreaming."

               "What did you do it like that for?"

               "See, not even a scar or scab or anything. Are you sure you 
               saw blood coming from his arms and head?"

               "It came from him - it was his blood," said Nicola.

               'Nicola is with me,' I thought, 'I remember now.'

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                                                                         2.


               "That's all very well," said the man with Nicola, "but when 
               you washed his wounds and put the bandages on him, was there 
               a cut?"

               "I didn't have time to wash him but I saw the cuts. When I 
               stopped at Parry Sound and decided to wash them - that's 
               when the cuts were not visible. Look, I didn't imagine it."

               "Someone did and I severely doubt he could imagine them into 
               being, and you put bandages over perfectly normal skin - 
               look - the bandages are perfectly white!" I opened my eyes 
               when the man talking to Nicola said 'perfectly white!'

               The term I thought of to describe him at the moment he noticed 
               I was awake was, 'Perfectly-pimply'

               Then Perfectly-pimply said into the air, "Where's Zinta?" 
               with his eyes looking away from me in time to miss my 
               horrified reaction.

               I knew it was time for me to confess to murdering Zinta. I 
               wanted to, finally: mainly because they were asking me what 
               happened to her. If I told someone, I could find out whether 
               I did it or not. After all the whole thing could have been 
               made up in my head.

               Nicola stroked my cheek over the scar and said, "Hi, you 
               feeling better? ... Bernard?"

               "Where's Zinta?" yelled perfectly-pimply again.

               The guy was starting to irritate me. I was ready to tell him 
               if he would give me a chance to clear my throat.

               "Bernard ...do you want a drink of water?" asked Nicola.

               She sat me up and gave me a sip. I was in an amber room that 
               looked like an attic because of the slanted ceiling. One 
               skylight stenciled an oval of bright sunlight across my bed-
               sheets. I glanced at Nicola. Her red hair and sweet breath 
               inflamed the hold-over eroticism of my dread. I looked down 
               at her breasts once before I was ready to confess.

               "You know what?" interrupted the pimple man, "I forgot where 
               I was, my corporal back at the base usually calls up Zinta 
               for me!'

               He was loud too. And confusing. He was talking like she was 
               still alive.

               "There you are Zinta. Bernard here keeps saying your name."

               A skinny woman with thick black curly hair in a pony tail 
               came in and said, "You're so loud your corporal is never 
               necessary./" She leaned against the door frame and smiled at 
               me, "Good afternoon Bernard. What's it like to sleep for 
               nearly forty hours?"

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                                                                         3.


               "Not too bad," I answered smiling.

               "Not too bad! He was dreaming about you, Zinta."

               I finally knew what was going on, "Is this ...Zinta? Is this 
               the Church of God place?"

               "Yes, and yes again and I'm Walter and you know Nicola of 
               course."

               I looked back to Nicola. She still sat with me, our faces 
               close enough to consider a kiss a natural hello. Instead she 
               hugged me and whispered in my ear, "Thank-you, Bernard ...for 
               saving me." Then she reached over to a night table and picked 
               up my lucky dice and placed them around my neck. "When they're 
               around your neck they're lucky for me too. So leave them on, 
               will you?"

               What she said momentarily paralyzed me with happiness. Then 
               I clung to her.

               II

               'All moments come to an end', I was thinking as I let go of 
               Nicola's embrace. I was determined to confess right there.

               I looked hard at the three in the room and searched for 
               inspiration to start. I saw that Walter was on the verge of 
               speaking and I cut him off. "I'm sorry but I have something 
               to say that can't wait. I just don't know how to begin. Nicola, 
               what I told you about this earlier wasn't true. I didn't 
               want to face it ...the point is  I did kill my girlfriend..."

               I expected total outrage from the three of them but all I 
               saw was mild surprise.

               "So that's what you were talking about just before you passed 
               out from bleeding," Nicola said.

               I asked all present, "Would you like to here the whole story?"

               Zinta and Nicola nodded yes and Walter was thinking about 
               something else.

               I wanted to sit on the edge of the bed, so Nicola moved down 
               so I could swing my legs to the floor and get comfortable. 
               Zinta sat on a sand-coloured couch against the wall and blew 
               away dust that had been disturbed by her. She commented, 
               "Dust causes cancer, you know." Walter sat down behind me 
               for some reason. I shifted down the bed with my back against 
               the headboard and my right foot on the floor so I could see 
               everybody's face in the room. With the shaft of light from 
               the skylight making a slow sweep of the bed, I began my story.

               "My mother and father committed suicide when I was eight 
               years old. I was at school when it happened and I've been 
               able to put it out of my mind since then with the help of 
               ... my girlfriend."

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                                                                         4.


               "Well? What was her name?" asked Walter.

               "S-sandra." I slurred looking at Zinta. I thought her real 
               name might be a little confusing.

               "Cassandar?" asked Nicola.

               "No, Nicola, I said Sandra - Sandra."

               "All-right! You don't need to be so hyper about it."

               "I'm sorry, this is hard; okay?"

               Walter was knitting his brow when suddenly he stated, "When 
               you squeeze a fresh duck it can't help but turn you on."

               We all turned to Walter with the outrage I expected from my 
               confession.

               Zinta was the one to express it, "Goddamn it, Walter, are 
               you crazy?"

               "I was thinking of something else?"

               We all laughed a little. "Perfectly obvious," Zinta said, 
               and with some body language cut off the topic.

               I had my cue to continue "...When my parents were gone I 
               chose to live with Sandra's parents, they were our next door 
               neighbours and they wanted me. Sandra was two years older 
               thanme and she looked after me like my mother should have - 
               I was a little brother to her. But when it came to sex, we 
               grew up together. I was never unhappy the way things were 
               between us. We moved out together after we both completed 
               cadet training. She entered university and we supported each 
               other financially. I was satisfied - you know? I always thoght 
               she was too. In school she took an arts program and which I 
               tried to follow her into, but I didn't pass the first year. 
               I didn't mind at all ...Z-Sandra and I were satisfied. I 
               could work full-time and we could live better than if we 
               both went to U. of T. Once she had her Masters I said I would 
               still support her while she got established in the Fine Arts 
               field if she wanted. She took me up on it and that was that 
               for nearly a year.

               "One night that we had sex: you know after more than ten 
               years it can't be perfect every time. I didn't mind. But she 
               said something; she said - we're too content the way things 
               are - she said. It scared me and I avoided the subject that 
               night. A couple of days later I suggested we get married. 
               She didn't respond and never brought up the subject again. I 
               was too scared to bring it up myself in case she said no. 
               Then she got this poster; a tourism poster of New Ottawa, 
               put it up and stared at it every once in a while. New Ottawa 
               is full of blackflies and mosquitoes, a thousand miles north 
               of Toronto, surrounded by submarine bases, with only its 
               looks and power to attract people to it. I couldn't understand

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                                                                         5.


               why she would stare at it so much. But I put it out of my 
               mind, deciding it was nothing to worry about."

               "She leaves you; you kill her. Right?" said Walter.

               "Walter, what is going on with you?" said Zinta. "Go on, 
               Bernard. I'm sorry."

               "Look," I went on,  "our lives were perfect until she decided 
               to be un-satisfied. 'We're toocontent' means she wanted to 
               be un-content."

               I tried to gesticulate what I wanted to express next, but it 
               lookedlike I was drawing without ink. "What am I supposed to 
               do, offer her un-contentment?"

               They were wanting me to hurry up.

               I flicked the dice with my index finger and continued, "Then 
               she wanted to leave me and I went crazy and hung her upside-
               down from the ceiling and left our place. When I cam back 
               she was dead. I know someone moved her body from where I 
               left it, but I was the one that killed her."

               Nicla jumped on my last word, saying, "I can see that you 
               assaultedher, but murdered her, I can't see that."

               "We fought - like, I had to beat her up to get her up there. 
               I beat her in the head, okay? - and I sliced her forearms 
               with something."

               "With what?" asked Nicola.

               "I don't know! It just happened, when I threw her against 
               the wall. Maybe it was some glass on the floor."

               "You murderer!" exclaimed Walter.

               "You big hypocrite," Zinta interjected, then to us all in 
               turn she said, "He's a colonel in teh cadets. All he does is 
               teach guerrilla tactics tokids. You may not have killed anyone 
               yet, dear, but if you ever get up the nerve and do, it'll be 
               just the legal form of murder."

               "Oh shut up, Zinta."

               "Excuseme, do you mind?" asked Nicola. "I wanted some 
               questions answered by Bernard.

               "Bernard, were the cuts on her forearms long and thing and 
               over the veins?"

               "Yeah, I guess so."

               "Did youhit the back of her head, causing it to bleed?"

               "Yeah, I did."

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                                                                         6.


               "That's the same as your wounds. Are you sure you didn't 
               just imagine it all?"

               "All very fascinating," said Walter walking farther away 
               from us into a darker corner of the room. "Whatever you're 
               trying to say, Zinta, I never murdered anyone and I never 
               will."

               Zinta shot back, "Everybody you've trained will do it for 
               you. Or you'll figure out some way to avoid doing it yourself. 
               I know you."

               Nicola lifted her hand to shut them up and said to Walter, 
               "Did you notice that the cuts he described on Sandra are the 
               same as the ones I saw on him?"

               "Yeah, well, who cares?"

               "I do, it means something to me. I think he imagined killing 
               his Sandra when he was sleeping," said Nicola.

               "Yeah, well,... good for him..." said Walter looking around 
               the room. Then he lifted himself slowly from where he was 
               sitting, stretched and said, "I bet you're hungry Bernard. 
               I'll go get you something. What do you want? Cereal? Toast? 
               Tea?"

               I was startled by his sudden turn of mood but I was hungry. 
               "Cereal and tea, if you don't mind," I said.

               He left the room and I asked if I should continuemy story. 
               Nicola and Zinta said I should, with Zinta adding, "Walter 
               getting tea for anyone would normally kill me from shock. 
               But he's up to something. So go on, I don't think he was 
               listening anyway."

               Nicola had something to add, "I've never seen anyone condemn 
               someone as a murderer and seconds later offer them tea. Not 
               that I didn't expect it to happen someday." The two women 
               laughed and told me to go on.

               I continued, "Okay, after I ... had the incident with S-
               Sanddra, I met Nicola's friends at a wedding -"

               "Tell her something about the wedding," pleaded Nicola.

               "I don't think it's important."

               "Go on ... please?"

               "Okay, well ... from what I recall ... I guess I got the 
               idea of getting married once I knew Sandra was gone. When I 
               took that drug - in thsoe pamphlets your church hands out - 
               it seemed to magnify everything in my mind. I felt like I 
               knew what I was doing - like God. Well you know what it does, 
               and I invited what must hva been thousands of people I didn't 
               even know. A hell of a lot of people turned up. Nicola's

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                                                                         7.


               friends were there and helped me when my guests became a 
               mob."

               Nicola butted in, "You see, Bernard married himself."

               "What?" said Zinta.

               "He put a ring on his own finger. In St. James Cathedral. 
               Can you imagine it?"

               "Bernard, didn't you have anyone to marry?"

               "No, I'm sorry, I didn't" I said with counter-scorn.

               Nicola and Zinta looked apologetic and told me to continue.

               "Nicola's friends wanted me to figureout and retrieve a parcel 
               that was stuck in customs. The way I decided to get it was 
               by working in the customs and wait for a chance to steal the 
               package while I worked there. It turned out that the people 
               that worked in teh customs were working at some other purpose - 
               in politics."

               "Bernard?" said Nicola interrupting, "You're sterilizing the 
               story. How are we supposed to ...Youknow..."

               "Judge. Right?" I finished. "You want to be able to judge 
               me. Right? Well, I'm guilty. You know? If you want to get 
               rid of me - If you cant trust me around here, I'll leave 
               right now." I took a breath to get rid of any falseness in 
               my tone. "I wanted to go to the police about it in Toronto, 
               but as Nicola knows they can't be trusted to stick to police 
               work. If there is anyone to give myself up to I will. Judge 
               me guilty. I am."

               Nicola repleid first, "I've been suspending my jdugement 
               about you for so long because I felt there was alwaysmoe I 
               needed to know first. I still feel that way. But if I'm forced 
               to make up my mind now I'd have to say I guess you did murder 
               someone, if you say you did, but I trust you enough to want 
               your compnay..." She stopped herself from saying something 
               in front of Zinta.

               Zinta sensing the awkward ending to Nicola's statement waited 
               long enought o make sure Nicola had finished then said, "If 
               I was afraid of psychos, not that you are, Bernard, do you 
               think I would have made the mistake of marrying Walter?'

               I wasn't sure if this meant I could stay with them. I searched 
               my mind for the right way to ask and Zinta answered, "Bernard, 
               the washroom is over therenext to the stairs. Nicola picked 
               up some clothes for you to wear. You can find them under the 
               window sill beside the sink When you're ready and dressed 
               we'll go on a tour of this church." The word 'church' giving 
               both women a private giggle.

               Nicola let Zinta go ahead of her and turned back to me. She 
               hugged me again and kissed me on the cheeks. She said, "Thank-

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                                                                         8.


               you again. Thank-you so much - You can guess I'm planning to 
               stay here but if you ever decide you want to move on lone 
               I'll give you the car we took from those Red and Whites. I 
               hid it out of town int he bush. But the thing is I hope you 
               stay with us." She went downstairs.

               They waited at the bottom of the stairs for me to get ready 
               then they led me down a corridor with many small bright rooms 
               of varying size and shape. All the room's windows were open 
               and through them I could smell a fresh damp breeze under 
               which a turquoise body of water was crashing.

               "Is that Georgian Bay?" I asked.

               "Yeah. we'll go for a swim later. Okay?" Nicola suggested.

               I agreed as we came upon Walter stepping from one room to 
               another across the hall.

               "Hey, Bernard," said Walter, "I'm sorry I didn't make it 
               back with your breakfast. I just had to go to the bathroom. 
               I started to boil the water for the tea..."

               "Don't worry about it, Walter."

               "NO really, I'll make it for you."

               Zinta turned back to smirk at me about Walter. I was wondering 
               why she was with him if she had such a low opinion of him.

               We entered a large kitchen where a large caldron was boiling 
               water. Walter picked up a steel tea-pot and dipped it in the 
               caldron seemingly to rinse it out. He looked inside the 
               rattling lid of the pot and when he was satisfied of something 
               he dipped it in the caldron again, filling it with water. He 
               put a tea bag in the pot then placed the pot on the kitchen 
               table - he gave a little howl when he placed it down hard - 
               the water had splashed out of the pot and scalded the back 
               of his hand. He then invited me to sit and have breakfast. I 
               sat down in front of the tea pot while Zinta and Nicola sat 
               down to the left and right of me. I looked around the table 
               for a cup and some milk so I could drink some tea. My stomach 
               was tight, like the fist of a greedy man. I struggled to 
               think of the proper words to ask Walter politely for what I 
               needed.

               He realized my situation, "Oh, sorry, Bernard."

               He came back and placed down a spoon and saucer beside me.

               I opened my eyes with astonishment, "No, I meant to ask 
               you..."

               "Oh okay, I am sorry!" Walter exclaimed.

               I waited for a second and he brought back a small garbage 
               pail, placing it beside me. Then he took away the saucer.

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                                                                         9.


               I didn't hesitate to ask, "What is the garbage pail for?"

               "I thought, like me, you don't like the sight of the tea bag 
               on the saucer and you'd rather put it straight in the 
               garbage."

               I smiled and the two women laughed.

               Zinta said, "Dear, Bernard wants the cereal you promised."

               "Yes, that's it," I said, "And a cup and some milk too, 
               please."

               As Walter came back with everythin, a middle-aged man breezed 
               into the kitchen, to the fridge, mumbling cheerily and 
               smelling sweaty, like he had just had a run. He grabbed a 
               pop and started out of the kitchen sucking on the pop and 
               waving good-bye to everybody. When he looked at me his eyes 
               bugged out with surprise as he tried to swallow.

               "So, this is what you look like awake," said the man, "How 
               interesting."

               "I'm Bernard," I said sticking out my hand.

               "I'm Mr. Dempsey, glad to meet you; I've got to run back to 
               my class." He stopped himself, "Sorry guys, I meant to say 
               game." Then he took off without shaking my hand.

               I felt awkward for a second, then Zinta toldme, "He's an ex-
               teacher. He was fired, so he's happy to imagine he's got a 
               real class of students to look after."

               "What is this game? Who's playing?" I asked Zinta.

               "Some kind of rugby game. The Church members are playing."

               "Do you want to go with him? I must be hogging all your time."

               Zinta smiled and said, "I like the Church when it's deserted. 
               Anyway, I might get injured by the way they play."

               "How many do you have staying here?"

               "Over twenty, most of the time."

               I took a sip of the hot tea. It acted like medicine in my 
               stomach as I clunked the mug against the table. The word 
               "fired" then sunk in and I wondered about it.

               "Fired?" I said inquisitively, "Why was Mr. Dempsey fired?"

               "He never said," claimed Walter as he sat down, "You know I 
               bet it was for his ideas."

               Zinta got up and started to walk around. She stared at Walter, 
               "He did say. He said the parents got upset that they couldn't 
               control their kids because of what he taught."

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                                                                        10.


               "Did he spoil them?" I asked.

               "No, he said he taught them not to listen to authority but 
               to common-sense - that's the way he put it."

               "If he doesn't like authority why do you call him Mr. 
               Dempsey?"

               Walter cut in, "He asked us not to tell people."

               Then Zinta started looking around the room like she had a 
               sudden attack of vertigo. SHe grabbed a spatula and whacked 
               at a fly on the counter. When she looked at the spatula blade 
               for the fly it was smeared like apple sauce.

               Walter covered his pimply face and yelled out, "Oh! God! 
               Zinta that was awful! Oh God! Oh God!"

               "Oh yeah, I might be spreading a lot of germs - oh, Walter 
               stop overreacting!"

               I started to eat the cereal but after a few mouthfuls I felt 
               full enough.

               "Let's go out, it looks like a beautiful day," I said, despite 
               admitting to myself and the others that I had murdered Zinta - 
               or rather, Sandra. I felt like I had so much to look forward 
               to. At that moment as I followed in the direction Mr. Dempsey 
               went, I knew I could look forward to jail or maybe to a life 
               with the Church of God, it didn't matter. The guilt I had 
               felt for so long had passed with my confession. I knew all I 
               needed was something to replace Zinta in my life and I was 
               ready to look with all my ability.

               Even though I followed the route out that I surmised was the 
               way Mr. Dempsey had left, I came to several dead ends in the 
               old place until Zinta, Nicola and Walter led the way for me.

               When I came out the door behind my three friends I breathed 
               in the most delectable fragrances of the water, wood smoke 
               and leafy humus. The fall had arrived. The day was warm 
               though, so I didn't need a sweater. I squinted in the bright 
               light as I appraised the building I'd been in. It was bright 
               red and long with a simple gabled roof. It was difficult to 
               see how I was lost in such a simple structure.

               Around the Church were yellow, green, pin, and purple houses 
               along the narrow cobblestone streets. A whitish rock stuck 
               out from under the houses all the way up a steep inclining 
               alley that twisted out of sight at the top. In the other 
               directionI peeked between the red church building and the 
               yellow one next door to see the water of Georgian Bay. I 
               tried to walk between the buildings when Zinta told me it 
               led to a cliff and to follow her to get to the beach.

               I tagged along the winding lane. It wasn't wide enough for a 
               car. As we came to the bottom of a little hill, a beach of 
               not more than forty metres in length lay between outcroppings

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                                                                        11.


               of white stone. Mr. Dempsey was catching a frisbee over his 
               head in themiddle of a scrum of other people, women and men. 
               They tackled him into the sand before some woman grabbed the 
               frisbee away from him and ran down the beach before she was 
               tackled and sent face first into the sand. I laughed when 
               the woman stood up and was spitting the sand out of hermouth.

               It was weeks since I had played any games and I was keen to 
               join in. I asked Zinta if anyone would object if I did. She 
               said she didn't think so. I ran straight over to the game 
               getting sand in my shoes and asking which side I would be 
               on. No one seemed to want to answer. I yelled it out again 
               and someone said whatever side I wished. I just jumped in to 
               try and get the frisbee for myself. With elbows in my neck 
               and hipsknocking intomine I wasn't getting anywhere. Soon 
               the frisbee was thrown past me and another scrum was started 
               a few metres away. I bumped heads with Mr. dempsey and he 
               said hello before running past me, rubbing his bump. I was 
               getting tired quickly. With the next scrum, I was just about 
               to arrive in the thick of it, when the frisbee was thrown in 
               my direction. I picked it up off the sand and ran. Although 
               I didn't know in which place on teh beach I could score a 
               point I knew I should start running to prevent them from 
               injuring me. A swarm was on my back, weighing me downuntil 
               others could leap straight down on my head. I saw someone 
               some distance away ahead of me with eyes excitedly telling 
               me to pass to him. I did pass to him and he ran to one end 
               of the beach. He jumped up and down like he scored while the 
               people on to p of me groaned. The man that scored came over 
               to the rest of us and said "That's one for me!" This is how 
               he thanked me before throwing the frisbee up in the air and 
               saying, "Scrambles!"

               The wrestling and fighting went on again. I was stepped on 
               several times, (without having touched the frisbee). I became 
               frustrated by not knowing the natureof the game but when 
               someone else seemed to score again and also said, "I win," I 
               realized it was every person for themselves.

               As the game went on over approximately a half hour, a pattern 
               developed when the three best players began to dominate the 
               game and everyone was losing interest, the rest of us started 
               to co-operate to keep the frisbee away from the best players. 
               It was three against more than ten.

               Suddenly, Mr. Dempsey switched sides. He turned out to be a 
               good team player and was able to make the match nearly even. 
               Mr. Dempsey at one point ran into m eknocking me over, then 
               stepped on my elbow trying to make a solo run for a score. 
               He was tackled within a second and fell back on top of my 
               head. It felt like my head squished a little flatter for a 
               second until Mr. Dempsey rolled off it. I brushed the sand 
               out of my nose and told Mr. Dempsey I was switching sides. 
               He laughed and ran off to continue the game. I started to 
               run and noticed my lucky dice were not banging my neck like 
               usual. I quickly found them in the sand where I'd been 
               squished and put them in my pocket. Within a few minutes the 
               five of us had total control of the frisbee. With a few more

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                                                                        12.


               defections to my side the rest lost interest and went to 
               relax on the sidelines. With only one team on the field, I 
               felt a little silly, but Mr. Dempsey yelled out that the 
               game was not over. The game became every person for themselves 
               again with some people on the sidelines coming back into the 
               game. Although the game was great exercise I failed to see 
               the point of going on and on with it and gave up to sit over 
               with Zinta, Nicola, and Walter.

               I was panting hard as I sat down and lifted my T-shirt off 
               my stomach to wipe the sweat off my face.

               "What was that all about?" asked Nicola.

               "Don't ask me," said Walter.

               "I wasn't asking you," Nicola sai,"Bernard?"

               "I don't know, but it was good exercise."

               Zinta stood up from a stone wall she was sittin on, stretched 
               herself with her arms over her head, and while yawning said, 
               "It's probably one of his demonstrations."

               "Oh, yeah, it probably is, you know," said Walter.

               "What are his demonstrations?" I asked.

               Zinta waited for Walter to try to answer first, then when he 
               didn't she said, "He pulls tricks and games out of his stock 
               of school lessons that he built up over the years that teach 
               his point of view on things. He loves teaching. Eh, Walter?"

               "Yeah," said Walte with the enthusisam of a campfire being 
               put out.

               "What did you say, Walter, that he demonstrated to you one 
               day?" Zinta asked coyly.

               "I didn't say and he didn't demonstrate anything. AND if you 
               go on like this I'll demonstrate what I can do to you!" Walter 
               trampled the ground in his retreat towards the Church's house.

               Zinta shrugged her shoulders at Nicola and I, looking for 
               sympathy and ran to catch up with Walter.

               "What's going on?" I asked disbelievingly.

               "Don't worry. She told me a lot of thigns about the two of 
               them. He never gets violent, he's talking about refusing sex 
               with her."

               "So what! It can't be any good anyway."

               "According to Zinta, he's very good in bed."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        13.


               "Oh my God, he's revolting. Besides al that, what did Mr. 
               Dempsey 'demonstrate' to Walter that could mke him to get so 
               mad all of a sudden?"

               "Mr. Dempsey left his wallet in the lounge of the Church 
               with his whole severance pay in cash and conspired with all 
               the Church members to make sure Walter would find it alone. 
               Walter took all the money and hid the wallet under a rock in 
               the water, which was never found. It was done to Walter 
               because he was getting so self-righteous he was threatening 
               to bust the head chemist, Schubel, the one that designed 
               those crystal pamphelts we used to see back in Toronto. Zinta 
               told me his threat wasn't serious."

               "How can he bust people?"

               "He's only a Colonel in the Cadet Corps, but he turns out to 
               have great connections with the RCMP and the provincial cops. 
               And while the Church of God's belief in using drugs is legal, 
               the manufacutring of narcotics isn't legal. Walter has been 
               able to use his connections to prevent any arrests. Schubel 
               once designed his drugs for the military - you know - for 
               fearlessness in battle or whatever they asked him to do. But 
               when he retired they kept a grudge against him. Walter is 
               the last line of defense for the Church of God."

               I pondered the connections, the wallet demonstrations, the 
               crystal drug and I asked, "Is Walter into this Church? He 
               doesn't seem to care."

               "Come to think of it Zinta's explanation for Walter was odd. 
               You see, she says, she only uses him so that his connections 
               can keep the Church safe from the cops. But he's not in love 
               with her. He seems, at times, to be the one who must put up 
               with her. He doesn't take the drug, he doesn't have any real 
               friends here, in fact I can't see exactly why he is here."

               While we talked the game was breaking up. MR. Dempsey, 
               sweating and panting, walked with much effort across the dry 
               sand. Passing Nicola and I, he nodded a hello to us.

               I hesitated at first but then I said, "Hello Mr. Dempsey. 
               What was the game about?"

               He continued walking past and only offered a shrug of his 
               shoulders in response.

               "I hate to judge a guy so fast," I said, "but that guy likes 
               to screw people up."

               "I wouldn't be so quick to judge if I were you ..." Nicola 
               said, pausing long enough for me to see my hypocrisy then 
               she continued, "Whatever it was that you did to your 
               girlfriend you seem to have gotten over it."

               "It does look that way, but what am I supposed to do? I 
               wonder? I felt very guilty before I was sure that I did kll 
               her. Now that I know I killed her the guilt has gone."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        14.


               "Did you care about her?"

               "Of course. I loved her so entirely nothing else mattered."

               "How can you have loved her and not even miss her?"

               "I miss her! Do I look like I'm going somewhere. I'm not. 
               I'm lost. I've gone from there to here being led like a child 
               by one disaster to the next."

               "I just don't understand how you and I are so normal right 
               now. Shouldn't we not have laughed today? Is it right for 
               you to laugh at all when someone like Sandra - is it right 
               to laugh - is it right for you to laugh or smile, as dumb as 
               it sounds, ever again? ... I don't know what I want to say."

               "I know what you mean. I felt strange when I smiled today - 
               Did you tell them about the two I killed getting you from 
               the Red and Whites?"

               "No! No, I wouldn't trust them enough to tell them. They 
               might tell the cops. In fact I don't know if it was such a 
               good idea for you to confess in front of them. You never 
               know what Walter might say to his buddies in the RCMP, and 
               something about these Red and Whties makes me think they're 
               no different than the cops. Whatever I was taken for I'm 
               sure I'd be taken again if they had the chance."

               With the bright beach cleared of people I suggested we sit 
               in the middle of it and try to relax for a while. When I sat 
               down I took off my shoes to shake out the sand. As I took 
               off one shoe and shook it, a gust of wind blew a few grains 
               in my eyes. I rubbed my eyes with my fingers.

               Nicola couldn't wait for me to clear my eyes before aksing, 
               "What in hell happened to us there, with those cops or Red 
               and Whites? They made me claim, on camera, that the Rubes 
               and I were planning terrorist subversion. If we had wanted 
               to I guess we were capable of it but we had no weapons and 
               we never did anything like that ever!"

               "That's what the package was for, it had a plastic gun in it 
               so that when they raided your house you could fight back, It 
               probably looks better on film when people fight back."

               "Why then did they make it hard for us to get the package?"

               "They changed plans, I think. Or they were playing hard to 
               get, to make it more valuable to you people."

               "Why? Why? What was the reason?"

               "Everything they did when I was with them was geared to 
               manipulating the outcome of the referendum. They were against 
               the idea for Canada having nuclear weapons. They were out to 
               make your group look like it was doing the same manipulating 
               for the YES forces. That's why they did it."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        15.


               "The vote is tomorrow. What should we do."

               "Nothing. There's nothing we can do."

               "Why? Why is all this happening? Why did they let you run 
               around their offices? Come to think of it, I thought you 
               were arrested when I was. The cops took you first. Why? I 
               don't understand. And how is it you know so much about these 
               Red and Whites?"

               "They hired me."

               "What! Why?"

               "They knew I was the one that killed Sandra. That's the kind 
               of person they needed. It was them that convinced me that I 
               had killed - Sandra..."

               "...Well, g on!"

               "What else can I say?" I said.

               I was rubbing my eye harder than was useful to get the sand 
               out.

               Nicola burst with anger, "Get that finger out of that eye! 
               Tell me  who owns them! Tell me how big are they! Are they 
               big - you know in numbers - how many are there?" She was 
               starting to hyperventilate. Dizziness began to make her eyes 
               swim. She stopped talking.

               I sat beside her waiting for something. Then I said, "The 
               leaders of the Red and Whites are dead. Both of them. Someone 
               wil become the new leader I don't know who. It's too big a 
               group to just disappear. I can't anwer your questions because 
               I don't know how big they are or who they do it for ... I 
               don't know, I'm sorry."

               Nicola had settled down, but then growled, "On eof your eyes 
               is totally pink."

               "Thanks."

               "What can we do? I have a murderer as my only ally ... I'm 
               sorry for saying that. You're not just a murderer. You also 
               saved me from murderers. I could think of a thousand labels 
               to stick to you. Murderer's .. just one of them."

               I laughed and said, "You wanted to say 'Murderer's not one 
               of them" didn't you?"

               "Yeah," she laughed, "So?"

               I became serious.

               "So let's not talk about this anymore," I said, "I want to 
               make amends for what I did. I hope you trust me enough to 
               let me do it in my own way."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        16.


               "I told you I trusted you."

               "Thanks. It might take me a while to work out what I should 
               do and I would like to stick with you."

               "I'm sticking around here for a while and you an stay with 
               no worries. I thought of coming here several times before I 
               met you. The Schubel was my first boyfriend - he wrote me 
               and invited me to go with him when he first decided to help 
               the Church. I couldn't go then and in retrospect I'm glad I 
               didn't. But he always phoned me with descriptions of this 
               place as though it were a perfect place to do nothing."

               "I don't want to do nothing. I want to sort out my mind and 
               decide what to donext."

               "Okay, I'm just saying there's no rush here. You don't need 
               to pay for your room or food until you have a job; if you 
               want one. They get by here on donations from across the 
               country. You can decide what to do in your own time. But let 
               me just warn you about the head chemist, Schubel, his position 
               here has made him lose all his manners. He's not the same 
               person that I knew."

               "Okay."

               "I just wanted you to know that in case you wondered how I 
               would want to have anything to do with him. Okay?"

               "I understand."

               "Let's go for that swim now. What do you say?"

               "Let's go."

               I followed Nicola back to the Church's house where we looked 
               for and found bathing suits that fit us. I put my dice back 
               around my neck. On the way back to the beach I noticed for 
               the first time the many cats that lay or trotted around the 
               cobblestone streets. And one child playing alone with a ball.

               Nicola suggested we sit at the western end of the beach where 
               a cliff and tree allowed some shade. We jumped into the blue 
               and white surf forgetting how cold it could be until we 
               surfaced and faced each other screaming at the same time, 
               "IT"S COLD!"

               She dove in again and surfaced trying to say something but 
               the surf splashed in her mouth over her head.

               Coughing and spitting,Nicola took my hand to pull me under 
               the water again. I stayed under with my eyes closed and pushed 
               off the soft sand bottom. The swirl of water pressures and 
               vacuums massaged my face while I blindly swam towards the 
               deeper water Nicola was leading me to. The swirl became 
               stronger near my face until Nicola's toes scratched my 
               forehead. I poked my head above the water and caught a breath. 
               I heard part of her apology and she pointed to a bald

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        17.


               outcropping of whitish rock in the middle of the sandy-
               bottomed bay.

               I opened my eyes underwater to see brightly, desptie the 
               blur, that her feet were not too close. Eventually the swells 
               above us lessened and I came to the surface to finish the 
               last dozen metres. She continued under water coming up 
               periodically to catch a breath. I arrived first on the tiny 
               island and she surfaced soon after.

               We sat together letting the breeze and sun dry us off with 
               nothing to say to each other but what our satisfied 
               exhalations and smiled told each other.

               III

               Eventually neither of us seemed content to reamin wordless, 
               or content with just the breeze and sun to touch our skin. I 
               looked at her nipples, held down by her black bathing suit. 
               They remained hardened even as the sun heated them.

               I had to keep my mouth open to get enough air. I noticed I 
               had a cramped erection in my trunks; but while I thought it 
               not a good idea to straighten it out while she stared at me, 
               I didn't hide it from her view. When I realized that she saw 
               it, her smile was enriched. Her mouth also stayed open like 
               mine; and like mine it dried to the point where we both had 
               to wet them.

               "I could use a drink right now," Nicola told me.

               "We ...we just swallowed enough, I think, in the swim. Don't 
               you think?" I said.

               My face tingled as I reached down underneath my trunks to 
               straighten my erection. She watched me do it and slowly moved 
               onto her left hip and leaned on her left hand.With her right 
               hand she caressed me down from my bent knee to my foot and 
               back up again. She slowly moved her hand up from my knee and 
               brought it up to my face - to my wet lips. I turned my head 
               to kiss the lenght of her finger that touched my lips. Then 
               she pulled my head towards her lips. At first my upper lip 
               touched hernose until I moved down and kissed her. Our lips 
               had dried up again by the time we kissed and she immediately 
               tongued my lips and ears. I felt her press her crotch against 
               my erection. I reacted by lifting my head and hips against 
               her. She pressed back and knocked my head against the rock.

               "Ouch! I heard that. Is your head all right?" asked Nicola. 
               I rubbed it and nodded that it was.

               After that, we held each other and kissed lightly every few 
               minutes for about a half-hour, caressing our heads and backs 
               while refusing to destroy the moment too soon with 
               conversation.

               We relaxed on our backs, with the sun in our eyes, holding 
               hands. I began to wonder what what we had done meant. Did it

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        18.


               mean we were a couple, or was this just for fun. Wen had 
               confused me in that way. Nicola gave me the impression that, 
               to her, it was more important than just fun. But I decided 
               not to push it and I was definitely not going to bring up 
               the subject of marriage.

               Nicola sat up and looked down at me, her red hair was drying 
               into spikes. I saw under the hair that her face was pleasantly 
               alternating between a little smile and a serious look as 
               thoughts passed through her mind.

               "It's going to be cold when we jump in again," said Nicola, 
               "I don't want to get a sunburn - so let's go now, okay ?"

               "Yeah. Let's go."

               We jumped, one soon after the other, neither of us wanting 
               to look wimpy.  We swam near each other until our feet touched 
               the sand; we walked the rest of the way up to the beach with 
               Nicola kissing me one more time. That kiss eliminated my 
               fears.

               "How does it feel to be able to retire?" Nicola asked as we 
               finished crossing the beach to the place where we left our 
               stuff.

               "What do you mean?"

               "The Church will let us stay for as long as we want. We don't 
               need to get a job. We don't need to do anything. We can just 
               loaf around for the next few years. How does it feel to be 
               able to do that?"

               "I don't know. I don't think I just want to loaf around - 
               besides - I don't think I'll be totally sane until I resolve 
               the fact of Z-Sandra's death."

               "What can you do about it? You can't go to the police. They'll 
               only send you back to Toronto. You'll end up with the Red 
               and Whites again."

               "There must be something I can do. I'm going to try and find 
               out what."

               "I think it's time you tried to get over it. Forget Sandra. 
               You were temporarily insane. Think of it that way."

               "I don't know."

               "You were not there, yousaid, when she died. How do you know 
               for sure someone else didn't come by later, see her alive 
               and finish her off. You mentioned that someone did see you 
               move your girlfriend's body."

               "It doesn't matter. What I did was murder.She was about to 
               die - please don't go on about this. I asked you to let me 
               do this in my own way," I said. Then I coughed over whatever 
               Nicola started to say.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        19.


               Nicola said again, sadly, "OK, let's go wait for dinner. It 
               must be around fie o'clock by now."

               "I'm sorry Nicola."

               I had the impression it was as important to Nicola as it was 
               to me that I forgive myself.

               "For what? Let's just go to dinner."

               We picked up our stuff off the beach and walked together 
               across the beach to the road. We didn't hold hands or show 
               any signs of change in our relationship, which made me feel 
               odd.

               In our bare feet we strode carefully, checking for glass or 
               sharp pebbles. There were none. The cobblestones seemed so 
               clean and well laid that it was easy to imagine if they were 
               in Toronto they would have brass poles and red ropes 
               surrounding them to make sure they stayed that way.

               We quickly arrived at the Church's house and just before we 
               went in I wanted to reassure myself that there was a change 
               in the relationship between Nicola and I. I held her hand, 
               and she shook it off. I was stunned. We looked at each other 
               and she whispered, "Not here."

               Once back inside the house we went back to our rooms to 
               change. I turned my dice around my neck like they were some 
               kids playing ring around the rosy. Including she and I, there 
               was Mr. Dempsey and some of the others from the frisbee game.

               Mr. Dempsey seemed neither short of subjects to talk about 
               nor breath to force them out of his mouth. He was in the 
               middle of a debate when I walked in. It took me quite a while 
               to begin to follow the topic: once I could, I stayed out of 
               it.

               "BOOM BOOM BOOM" Mr. Dempsey recited like it was Shakespeare.

               "Yeah, but it can happen anyway because there are lots of 
               countries that already have it. If Canada gets the bomb we 
               will eliminate the inherent nuclear blackmail in our relations 
               with other countries."

               Mr. Dempsey warmed up his hands, then said, "And eliminate 
               the status quo. What do you think is going to happen in the 
               minds of our friends and adversaries alike when they realize 
               Canada suddenly became the most powerful nation on earth? 
               Think of it. We're second in size, fourth in population, 
               first in gross domestic product, first in technology, and we 
               write the book on weapons and tactics. But strategically 
               Canada is last if it thinks the rest of the world is going 
               to allow a non-aligned country to challenge the leagues, 
               alliances, and communities that rule the world. India is the 
               only power we can count on to stand with us. Not forever, 
               either."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        20.


               "Why worry? We are as self-sufficient as a country can be; I 
               think we import juice squeezers and that's about all. The 
               cadet program has made everybody in the country capable of 
               fighting an invasion..."

               "And justifies bombing all the people because they're 
               soldiers," Mr. Dempsey said.

               "That's the whole point, to have the bomb to deter that."

               "I can't argue with that!" Mr. Dempsey said sardonicly.

               "Do you condede?"

               "THere are ways for the rest of the world to destroy Canada's 
               power without attacking our strong points."

               "Like what?"

               "Subversion."

               I was shocked at Mr. Dempsey's choice. I had sat on the 
               sidelines for a minute and he had shown me a possible answer 
               to the Red and White puzzle. Their motives were drawn from 
               other countries and their patriotism was just a part of the 
               manipulation. I needed to confirm the idea.

               "Do you know that is whjat is happening?" I asked.

               Mr. Dempsey puffed out his chest lifted his gaze above my 
               eyes and pontificated, "...No."

               I was quite let down and I shut up.

               "Don't let him bother you," said one of the people sitting 
               wiht us. "He's only trying to sting you."

               "I'm not bothered," I claimed.

               Mr. Dempsey looked visibly plesed with himself for something 
               and then he settled down and looked serious.

               "Hands up; who's voting tomorrow?" asked Mr. Dempsey.

               Mr. Dempsey was the only one to put up his hand.

               "Is that all," he scolded, "What are there here? Ten people? - 
               yes, ten people and I'm the only one voting."

               "I don't want to register," someone told us.

               "The last referendum was only seven weeks ago. You mean you 
               didn't vote for that one either?"

               "No."

               "That was to decide on a new federal tax. Wasn't that 
               important enough?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        21.


               "No."

               "And the one before that, to extend the franchise down to 
               three year olds?"

               "That was a stupid one."

               "You could have voted against it."

               "What difference would that have made? It passed by two-thirds 
               majority."

               "Not one bit - by yourself, but if..."

               "More people like me had voted we could have turned it around 
               right?"

               "Right."

               "No, we would have only built up our expectations to be 
               disappointed. The stupid kids that already had the vote had 
               sullied the process already."

               "Why didn't you vote against them before they had the vote?"

               "I was too young then."

               "You mean, you were too young to vote?"

               Maybe if you had the vote when you were 'too young' you could 
               have voted to eliminate your chnace to ever vote at that age 
               again. Besides it's a strange arguemnt indeed when a person 
               with no true interest in the idea of voting would be against 
               the extension of the vote on the grounds that the whole idea 
               would be sullied." Mr. Dempsey seemed to turn off his 
               indignant tone when he said, "No one need vote. I have not 
               been here all that long. What right do I have to say anything 
               about it? None. All-right, I think dinner is ready. I wonder 
               how a chemist cooks dinner? Let's find out."

               Mr. Dempsey led everybody including Nicola and myself into 
               the cramped hallway that headed towards the kitchen and, I 
               gathered, to a dining hall. As I entered the hall passage 
               the crowd became blocked up ahead and started to push 
               backwards against us. I retreated with Nicola as everybody 
               pushed back to the living room with Mr. Dempsey returning 
               last. He told us, "Schubel, says dinner will be ready in ten 
               minutes. We'll go in when he tells us it's okay."

               "Another demonstration, Mr. Dempsey?" someone teased.

               We all laughed in his face. But he laughed with us and took 
               the edge off it.

               Mr. Dempsey, still laughing, shifted the focus, "Anyone have 
               any gossip?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        22.


               When the laughing had waned, there was silence at first then 
               someone said, "I heard the King of England is petitioning 
               the British foreign ministry to try and get Canada to 
               reinstate him as Head of State. I heard the Executive General 
               has protested and called a special pow-wow to deal with it."

               Mr. Dempsey looked a little annoyed and responded, "Not old 
               news, some gossip, gossip."

               A young girl offered something. "I saw Walter and Zinta 
               arguing on the way to the market square."

               "About what?" asked Mr. Dempsey.

               "I couldn't hear."

               "That's no good. Come on. Something else."

               "I was told," started a freckled man, "that Georgina Bay, in 
               fact the whole of lakes Huron and Michigan are dyed blue. 
               Probably includes all the other Great Lakes too."

               "Now that's gossip! Anything else to add to that?"

               "No."

               "Well that was a good start. Anyone else?"

               "I heard," said a heavy-set young woman, "a man that lives 
               here killed four sadistic cops for torturing a girl that 
               also lives here."

               "I heard that one," said another woman, "except, it was only 
               two cops not four."

               "Well, who was it?" asked Mr. Dempsey coyly.

               "Some guy in a coma," someone spoke out before I could catch 
               his face.

               "There's his girlfriend," I jsut saw a hand pointing at 
               Nicola.

               Nicola and I stared bewildered at each other.

               "The guy's not in a coma. This is him - the guy wiht the 
               dice on his neck," I saw a finger pointing at me.

               A ruckus started, and I became quite scared. Nicola tried to 
               calm everyone down and explain. I felt like the frisbee in 
               the game we had played earlier. I was being grabbed and 
               touched and shouted over. Then I re-interpreted what was 
               happening and saw that I was being congratulated with pats 
               on the back and words of approval.

               I began to think I had found myself in a parallel to the Red 
               and Whites. They looked sick to me until I realized they

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        23.


               were not mentioning Zinta's murder at all; only Bill and the 
               other man.

               "You're a hero!" was the most extreme comment I heard.

               I looked at Nicola again and she looked sorry. I guessed she 
               must have told someone about it. She suddenly looked behind 
               me towrads the kitchen seeming angry at whoever stood there.

               "Dinner's ready!" I heard shouted.

               The mob disperesed towards the dining area while Nicola 
               approached me.

               "I'm sorry, I told Schubel when I first arrived how you saved 
               me. Then I thought better of it  once I'd told him. I asked 
               him to keep it quiet. I should have known he wouldn't keep 
               it quiet. I'm so sorry, Bernard. I'm so sorry."

               "It's okay. I'm just surprised how they took it. I wonder 
               why they acted like that? .. Let's go eat."

               We followed the last of the mob into the dining hall while 
               others came in from outdoors.

               "That's Schubel," Nicola said pointing at a man organizing 
               the serving of dinner. The man was muslce. He wore a sweat-
               stained blue denim shirt stretched across his arms and his 
               chest. His face was sculpted muscle. He was more handsome 
               then I ever was. Even when I was still working out everyday. 
               He looked older than Nicola; about my age.

               'What a creep,' I thought healously, trying to recall why 
               Nicola derided him earlier.

               "If he is the great chemist around here," I asked Nicola, 
               "why is he the cook?"

               "That's only for this week. He wants to show off his culinary 
               skills."

               'Creep,' I said to myself.

               "Why would you go out with him?" I asked Nicola.

               Nicola smiled at me and said, "I don't think you need to be 
               gay, Bernard, to see how attractive he is."

               I grumbled for a while then, settled down when my plate 
               arrived. The meal included some white sauce laden medallions 
               of steak, chicken, and scallops; with asparagus spears, it 
               went on and on. I was amazed at the amount, quality, cost 
               (free to me) and the service of the meal. It was better than 
               any restaurant I'd been to. The taste was expressed by 
               everybody's face. The pause of shock at the taste, the grin 
               in response, and the cliche's that followed. The "Have you 
               ever ..."'s the, "I've never tasted anything so good"'s and 
               the "I'm speechless"'s. I'd wished they were speechless.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        24.


               'Creep' I thought.

               The hall held two long tables. From the other table, Mr. 
               Dempsey moaned melodramatically with every mouthful. When 
               Zinta and Walter entered last, kissing and holding hands, he 
               pretended he was going to throw up. But thinking no one was 
               watching him he didn't see the point in going on and on with 
               his prank. Mr. Dempsey had to let Schubel get all the 
               attention.

               Schubel walked over to where Nicola and I sat, put his hands 
               on Nicola's shoulders and crouched over to speak close to 
               her ear. "This meal is for you."

               I wanted to kill him, figuratively. I went nuts over the way 
               she had shook away my hand when we arrived back at the Church. 
               Schubel was the reason she didn't want people to know we had 
               become romantically involved. My face felt drained of blood 
               while I watched for any meaningful contact between Nicola 
               and Schubel.

               "Schubel this is Bernard. Bernard this is Schubel.'

               I wasn't ready to be introduced by Nicola. I had just a little 
               strength to fake a smile and when I tried I felt like a 
               vampire with dry-mouth. We shook hands then we wiped them 
               off on our trousers when we finished.

               "Oh!" Schubel said, "Bernard. Yes - this is the man that 
               saved my Nicola's life. I'd like to thank you myself." He 
               shook my hand again and we wiped our hands off again, this 
               time on our shirts for variety.

               "Schubel," Nicola interjected, "I asked you to keep all that 
               to yourself."

               "How can it hurt to tell it. It's a wonderful story."

               "But we can still get in trouble. You shouldn't have told 
               everybody.

               "I didn't, I only told the kitchen staff. Besides people 
               here love the story too."

               I took Nicola to the side and tried to clear something up, 
               "Why? Why did they react so excited and happy that I had 
               killed these two..."

               "I think they were excited because I embellished it quite a 
               lot. I made it sound like you were some secret agent or 
               something. I was happy to make you look good. It was the 
               very least I could do. I think it's good for us to play 
               politics here too. We don't want to be kicked out of here 
               too. I hid the car so we could use it if we needed to, but 
               lets play their games and make it easy on ourselves."

               I stopped listening then I saw, in my mind, the moment I 
               saved Nicola, "I was so sure it was Zinta, or Sandra, I was

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        25.


               saving. What did I think I was doing. I was so confused at 
               the time. What? Znta or Sandra? I don't need to call her 
               Sandra to myself. Zinta - Zinta, the real one. The Zinta I 
               dreamed about this morning. Why should I be so worried about 
               Nicola and her Schubel, Zinta is the only one that mattered."

               "Ready for dessert, Bernard?" Schubel said while he came up 
               to us and tapped me on the shoulder.

               "Oh! Yeah, sure."

               Schubel walked back to the kitchen while I finished the last 
               bite on my plate; a piece of steak I had plowed around in 
               what was left of the sweet white sauce.

               "You know this is the first time in years I've celebrated 
               Thanksgiving," Nicola said, "I bet you didn't even remember 
               it was Thankgiving today ... Bernard?"

               "Nicola," I interrupted, "Could you help me figure out how 
               to get a job in this town. I can't just sit around and watch 
               things happen to me. I can at least have some purpose with a 
               job."

               "Killarney is in the middle of a wilderness refuge. I don't 
               know what kind of job you could get here. The Soo and Sudbury 
               are west and east of here if you want to leave for some big 
               cities."

               "I don't want to leave."

               "I'm glad of that."

               "Are you?"

               "Yes! Don't be so jealous of Schubel. He has influence around 
               here and I don't want to upset him. That's why I didn't want 
               to hold your hand when we came in."

               "He still acts like your boyfriend."

               "He acts like that with everybody."

               "Anyway, I'm not jealous."

               "Good, because there's no reason to be."

               "Good, is there anyone else that could help me find a job?"

               "Mr. Dempsey found a job soon after he arrived here. I was 
               told that by someone. I can't remember who, though."

               "Okay, I'll ask Mr. Dempsey to help me - I'm sorry for being 
               jealous there for a second."

               "That's okay."

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                                                                        26.


               The dessert arrived at the table. I asked Nicola what it was 
               but she couldn't tell me. I asked someone across the table 
               and he didn't know either. We ate it and once again it was 
               the culinary equivalent of licking dust off a moving car - 
               no it wasn't - despite my resentment it was very good.

               When the whole experience was over the people in the hall 
               drifted out, Nicola and I with them. She and I stopped briefly 
               to exchange pleasantries with Walter and Zinta who were still 
               consuming the main course. Outside the hall, Nicola suggested 
               I talk to Mr. Dempsey right away about a job. She said she 
               had something to do on her own. She took off while I suspected 
               she was going to 'talk' to Schubel.

               I found Mr. Dempsey back in the living room and quickly 
               broached the subject of a job. I wanted to finishe up with 
               him and see if I could find out where Nicola had gone.

               Mr. Dempsey stood up from his chair, stretched, and signaled 
               with a sweep of his hand for me to follow him.

               We went outside and walked in the opposite direction from 
               the beach, a little girl sitting on a skateboard bumped and 
               squeaked as she rolled by us. She had smiled shyly at us. 
               Mr. Dempsey and I looked at each other, delighted by her 
               passing.

               "You know," Mr. Dempsey said, "the first year I taught grade 
               two, I was charmed by every child that entered my class. I 
               didn't feel that way for long. Year after year the repetition 
               made it seem that I was getting nowhere. I transferred to 
               grade twelve just to see the same students I taught in grade 
               two. It was great. I could see the change in them finally. 
               Of course a few years passed and I began to feel like I was 
               going nowhere with them too. Anyway, about a job."

               We had reached the top fo a long hill, passed the fianl house 
               on the lane and came to a very high rocky park with only one 
               tree. It was a huge oak with long branches that sifted out 
               gold shining leaves on top of us during the last few seconds 
               of sunlight for the day. When we turned to look at the sun 
               it was gone. We sat down on a plank and cast-iron bench and 
               looked out at the lake's horizon as the twilight regressed. 
               I was thinking it was a shame we had just missed the sunset 
               when Mr. Dempsey continued.

               "I have a job with a camping outfitter. I'm sure my boss 
               could use another hand. Let me tell you about it. We rent 
               all kinds of equipment for people who come from all over the 
               place, even from as far away as New Ottawa or Montreal. They 
               want to canoe, bicycle or hike. We have everything they ask 
               for, even guides. Our customers are rich people, mostly. All 
               I think I need to say more about it is that it's probably 
               the only available job in town."

               "Did you try for other ones?" I asked.

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                                                                        27.


               "It takes less than a day to cover every possibility in this 
               town," Mr. Dempsey said.

               "That settles it. Will you take me with you when you go to 
               work?"

               "After I vote."

               "Okay, after you vote."

               "There's something else I wanted to ask you."

               "What?"

               "Why aren't you teaching anymore?"

               "I want to. I just can't. I've been blackballed."

               "Why?" I asked.

               "Because of my beliefs."

               "Aren't we free in this country to say what we want?"

               "We are when it doesn't matter," he said while lifting his 
               arms and stretching. "But there are always limits on everyone. 
               You know; you can't incite rebellion or a riot. You can't 
               council someone to kill someone else. Those are the obvious 
               ones."

               "That's not a question of free speech. That's a question of 
               criminal law isn't it? Was what you said like that?"

               "It's always a question of free speech. If governments can 
               council people they call soldiers to murder. And opposition 
               parties can incite strikes or rebellions to overthrow a 
               government and get away with it, criminal law is irrelevant. 
               What you say will always be free if you have the powers that 
               run your society. They're the ones that make the criminal 
               laws for their benefit. If it's to your benefit too that's 
               an accident.

               "Why was I blackballed?" he said cutting me off from 
               responding to him. "The limits on free speech when you're a 
               teacher are not from criminal law but from standards of your 
               communities. They're not written down clearly and as a teacher 
               I wanted to test them and see what they were. Okay, well, as 
               a curious person I wanted to test them. Grade twelve was a 
               perfect grade to push my beliefs. But as I became more 
               radical, as the years passed, so did my students. Then one 
               student committed suicide after the end of the school year. 
               I wasn't blamed, but a second then a third in the following 
               years forced them to fire me."

               "To me that's a damn good reason to fire you. What did you 
               tell them?"

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                                                                        28.


               "I couldn't say in one sentence ... or in a day - You're 
               looking for a reason to blame me for these suicides, aren't 
               you?"

               "Well..."

               "Okay - well... I shouldn't care if you are - back to what I 
               taught my students -"

               "You think because I've killed people with my own hands I 
               lost my right to have an opinion?"

               "No. Speaking is neither a right nor a priviledge. You either 
               speak or you don't. If you have something to say and I can 
               hear it and understand you you've done what you wanted. 
               There's no debate on that topic."

               I realized how tensely my hands gripped the seat of the bench 
               and I relaxed them. "I'm sorry for jumping on you like that."

               "It's understandable after what has happened to you."

               "But I didn't just kill those two that were hurting Nicola. 
               There was someone I murdered. I mean really murdered. 
               Premeditated murder."

               "Are you serious?"

               "Yes, I am."

               "Why would you tell me?"

               "I already confessed to Walter, Zinta and Nicola. I don't 
               care who knows now."

               Mr. Dempsey looked ucomfortable momentarily as he straightened 
               his back, turned and looked at me more directly. "Don't tell 
               me anymore, don't confess to anyone else and let's not talk 
               about it further, okay?"

               "What do you mean? I'm planning on turning myself in. I'm 
               finally going to take some action to sort out my life. 
               Confessing is just the first step to fix everything."

               "Do it now, tonight, if you think it'll be good for you. 
               Don't involve everyone else. There's a Provincial Police 
               station on the road out of Killarney. Go ahead ... tonight."

               "I can't trust the cops. They're the ones that hired me. 
               back in Toronto, because I murdered ... Sandra. They're the 
               one's that tried to kill Nicola."

               "If that's the case, who can you turn yourself over to? - 
               Wait a second. They hired you? And you referred to them like 
               I had some previous conversation about them with you- wait - 
               wait - don't talk about it any more to me ... and stop these 
               stupid confessions.!"

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                                                                        29.


               I lifted my finger to say something; he cut me off again, 
               "Bernard, you say you can't turn yourself in, you don't seem 
               to know what is the best thing to do at the moment. So don't 
               do anything. Start afresh. You and I are going to be working 
               together, most likely, at the outfitters, and I want to offer 
               you just the chance you need to see the world in a clear 
               light. I'm going to be your teacher. A teacher that can teach 
               you the truth."

               I rubbed my head and responded, "You're a bit much. Aren't 
               you?"

               "Sorry," said Mr. Dempsey as his face turned red, "I thought 
               you'd go for that style. It doesn't change the fact I have a 
               lot I can teach you and the factg you need some direction to 
               get where you're going."

               "Where am I going?"

               "You tell me."

               "I don't know, for sure. I just wish I could put things back 
               the way they were before I murdered ... Sandra. Everything 
               was alright before that."

               "Do you mind if I ask you why you did it?"

               "I don't know for sure. We were arguing about something and 
               it happened. I had the idea it was premeditated, now I'm not 
               sure."

               "Don't you remember?"

               "I do. It just happened so quickly. Look, I don't have it on 
               video. You know what I mean? Things just happen. I can only 
               remember things I noticed. Like I keep on remembering cuts 
               on her arms. But I don't recall doing them."

               "You mean on her forearms?" My. Dempsey gesticulated 
               alternately along the veins of each of his own forearms.

               "Yeah. Why?"

               "You had cuts there - I was told when you arrived in town 
               that you did. You also had some on your head. I saw the 
               bandages on you when you were in bed. What happened to them?"

               "I didn't need them. I had no cuts, or scars."

               "There's your cheek scar you might have forgotten."

               I'd put the scar out of my mind. It must have looked hideous, 
               even Nicola didn't mention it or ask how I got it.

               I needed to ask Mr. Dempsey, "How does it look?"

               "Awful. Not much else."

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                                                                        30.


               "Don't tell me that."

               "Okay, it looks very romantic. Like you were in a duel over 
               a woman."

               "I like that better."

               "Interesting that you'd say that ....And this business with 
               the cuts and the bandages; I'm going to ask Nicola for an 
               explanation of what happened to you - ever heard of stigmata? 
               Never mind - let's go back. I'm getting cold up here and my 
               back is killing me." The mention of the word 'killing' made 
               us glance at each other very seriously for a second.

               We stood up and stretched ourselves. I patted my bum back to 
               life as a dog trotted up the cobblestone street sniffing the 
               edge of the grass. It ignored us while we started down the 
               dimly lit hill.

               Mr. Dempsey turned to me with a bounce in his step and asked, 
               "So, what do you think. You know about letting me teach you 
               everything I know?"

               "You miss teaching, don't you?"

               "Of course!"

               "Okay. You've got a student."

               "Great. Let's start now. You mentioned perception -"

               "Oh! Not now, can't it wait until tomorrow?"

               "All right. Tomorrow after I vote and find you a job. In 
               that order."

               We walked towards the end of the street and the church house 
               talking about the town we were in, Killarney. Just as Mr. 
               Dempsey was explaining how it was founded by an Ojibway, I 
               saw down an alley, behind him and out of his sight, a very 
               young couple. The boy had one hand rubbing between the girl's 
               legs. It made me so distracted that as we walked into the 
               house Mr. Dempsey had to repeat several times instruction on 
               how to find his room. I wandered around the main floor looking 
               for Nicola. Then I began to ask people where Schubel was. 
               Both Nicola and Schubel had gone out together soon after Mr. 
               Dempsey and I had left on our walk. I was furious. Even though 
               I had decided I had no reason to be jealous about her, I 
               still felt jealous - and vengeful.

               I stormed through the house looking for a way to get even. 
               From room to room I searched for something, something 
               deliberately non-violent. Even though my mind set was far 
               from doing anything violent, I sensed my past could repeat 
               itself at anytime. I passed many women int he halls and in 
               rooms high on the crystal pamphlets. I considered the 
               seduction of any of them as p roper revenge, but I didn't 
               have the skill to do it. I'd never done it before. My previous

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                                                                        31.


               experiences were not initiated by me. Zinta, Wen and now 
               Nicola, tha ttoal sum of my sexual history, all of them had 
               done the seduction.

               'It's time I changed,' I thought. I turned away fronm my 
               unknown destination and returned to a room I had passed by. 
               It had two women, neither of whom would be an embarrassment 
               to seduce.

               "How is the crystal?" I asked both the women.

               "The best Schubel has made," the one with thick glasses on 
               the left answered.

               "Yeah! Wow! It's like I was as blind as her before I took 
               it," the one on the right said from under a mass of tangled 
               black hair She pulled her hair away from her face and looked 
               at me. "Youknow what I mean?"

               "Oh I do" I said.

               "Look at him, Richara, it's that guy who saved that girl."

               Richara pushed her glasses back on her nose and said, "Wow! 
               You're a real superman, eh? You don't need the crystal to 
               feel it I bet."

               The woman with the tangled hair suddenly laughed and stared 
               even harder at my face, "Do you see what I see Richara?"

               "What?" Richara answered.

               "Look at his face. He's looking for sex with us."

               I opened my mouth but couldn't deny her claim. I wondered if 
               I had an erection but I didn't. Even though sex wasn't exactly 
               what I was looking for I let her claim stand. I thought it 
               might hurry things along now that it was in the open. How 
               had she guessed it? I knew it must have been the crystal 
               drug. I remembered that it made me see better and more 
               directly at the time of the wedding.

               "I'm sorry B.. What's your name?" asked Richara.

               "Bernard."

               "Bernard, she and I are lovers. We don't like men in that 
               way. I'm sorry to let you down." They let out a short laugh 
               and waited for my reaction.

               I fidgeted with the dice around my collar and was about to 
               walk away when I stopped myself and asked for some of the 
               crystal drug. They obliged me and even showed me how little 
               tot ake. I considred ti was possible that if they could see 
               into people so well because of the drug then could too.

               The first time I took the drug I had passed out, the second 
               time I had felt like a god at being able to command the

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                                                                        32.


               attention of all my guests at my wedding. My third experience 
               began with a ghost whipsering in my ear.

               "What did you say?" I asked the ghost.

               'I love you.' The ghost tickled my ear as she whispered. I 
               turned to look at the face of the ghost and while she seemed 
               to feel like someone I knew, I didn't recognize her. I walked 
               away from the room containing Richara and the other woman to 
               see if the ghost would follow. She did. We stopped and stood 
               together in a quiet passage. I asked her if she was real or 
               just in my mind.

               'If you can't tell, then it doesn't matter,' she said, 'I 
               want you to find me again, please, I've missed you.'

               "I know I want you too. But aren't you something I once 
               loved?"

               'Yes, but I was never a person.' Suddenly the image of her 
               evaporated and I was left smelling a hidden rose.

               I'd loved it once.

               IV

               'A ghost!' I said to myself, 'I find a ghost when I'm looking 
               for vengeance.'

               I felt the air with my hands to see if the ghost was still 
               around and headed to my room to give up for the night and 
               sleep.

               As I came to the bottom of the stairs that led to my room I 
               could see that the lights wsere on in my room. I forgave 
               Nicola then. I knew it was her. I ran to the top of the stairs 
               and stopped myself before I turned the corner, I was a little 
               dizzy from the crystal drug. I took a breath full of sexual 
               anticipation and turned the corner. "-Zinta?"

               "Keep your voice down."

               "What are you doing here?"

               Zinta turned off the light in my room and invited me to sit 
               down on the bed. "I wanted to chat with you," she said.

               I waited long enough for my eyes to adjust to the darkness 
               before I did as she asked. The roof window allowed some 
               moonlight to show me how close I was to Zinta as I sat 
               uncomfortably beside her waiting to hear what she wanted to 
               say.

               "I hate Walter with all my heart ..." she said.

               "Yes?" I said while looking around for something.

               "Let's not talk about him."

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                                                                        33.


               "Okay."

               "I want to know why you were calling out my name in your 
               sleep. I was told you looked happy as you said my name."

               "I ... I..." I was not going to tell her anything but them I 
               changed my mind and lied to her. "Did you visit me when I 
               was sleeping?"

               "Yes, I did."

               "I'm just trying to explain it to myself. So just bear with 
               me for a second, will you?"

               She nodded.

               "I dreamed about you. It was you, your face in my dream. I 
               must have opened my eyes and saw you unconsciously."

               "Yes, I talked to Nicola once when I visited. She must have 
               said my name, you saw me and put my name and face together. 
               That's what happened. I see now."

               I nodded with my eyes wide open with relief that she finished 
               my story for me.

               "What did you dream about? Can you remember?"

               "Does it matter?" I asked.

               Suddenly my Zinta-Sandra came in the room with a finger 
               vertically across her lips saying 'Shhhh. Don't speak.'

               She reminded me of my recent ghost visitation but she was a 
               more fully developed spirit. I was so happy to see her. Then 
               I felt guilty that I'd been caught with this other woman, 
               but I tried not to show it.

               Zinta-Sandra came up behind me and wrapped her arms around 
               my body letting her hands come to rest inside the front of 
               my underwear. Her hands were cold. She whispered, 'I want 
               you to let me go. We're finished you know. I want you to 
               move on and I want to move on. She wants you. Listen, she's 
               asking you a question.'

               "For the third time, Bernard... okay let me make my question 
               more obvious this time. Would you like to spend some time 
               together? Without Nicola or Walter knowing?"

               My Zinta-Sandra was massaging me, making me erect and saying, 
               'Think of her name, it's my name. When you think ofme, think 
               of her instead.' Zinta-Sandra took her hands away from my 
               pants, lifted my right arma nd pushed my hand towards the 
               other Zinta's breasts. When my fingers were close enough to 
               feel the heat pulsing urom under the thin shirt, Zinta-Sandra 
               tickled my ear with her tongue then she turned into a flame 
               that dispersed in every direction.

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                                                                        34.


               "Zinta!" I whispered desperately.

               "Yes?" the new Zinta replied.

               With my fingers stopped at the verge of caressing her nipple, 
               I decided I would tell her the dream I had, while I finished 
               what I had intended, to grab her breast with my whole hand 
               and push her against the mattress.

               "You really want to know what I dreamed about?" I said while 
               I straddled over her, looking down at her grey and blakc 
               eyes.

               She shivered as she breathed in. Then said, "Yes, I want you 
               to show me."

               The dream was on a farm with a tree and it was about the 
               first time I had ever made love. There was no way to show 
               the new Zinta. I looked at her desire to know about the dream 
               as a ploy to get close enough to seduce me. I tossed out the 
               old dream, I decided again to lie. This time it would be for 
               her pleasure. The crystal drug gave me all the answers, it 
               seemed.

               "Not only am I going to show you my dream I'm going to 
               describe everything you can't see."

               "Yes. Do what you want," Zinta said then took another 
               shivering breath. She closed her eyes and smiled.

               I let go of her breast and lifted her shirt over her head; 
               her curly black hair was the last to come out. It fell like 
               heavy rain on her naked shoulders. I undid her pants but 
               stopped undressing her when I noticed her stomach rising and 
               falling. I had to kiss it. As my lips explored, there was a 
               fine hair all over her stomach and chest. Every time my lips 
               began to slide up her peach-like breasts I was tempted to 
               take a huge bite out of them. I didn't though, I figured the 
               pain would spoil the mood. I pushed myself up to finish taking 
               off her pants and began telling my dream.

               "Zinta, can you hear?" I asked, checking the level of my 
               voice.

               "Yes, I'm so wet."

               She was right; with her panties off I could smell her. But a 
               spice smell came from it too, a cinnamon aroma. I looked at 
               her swollen clitoris at the apex of a triangle of short hair. 
               I was distracted.

               I tried again to get my dream started, "I was alone in the 
               most beautiful place in the world... In a resort over-looking 
               the palaces of New Ottawa." My nose followed the cinnamon 
               aroma towards her clitoris. I pictured in my mind, looking 
               for inspiration, the poster of New Ottawa that once hung in 
               my old flat.

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                                                                        35.


               "You see I was on a beach. A soft beach, cool sand. A small 
               whale - you know the kind with the unicorn horn?" I realized 
               I was going in the wrong direction with my dream, sex was 
               the topic not nature. "Okay, well ...okay, lets forget that 
               part. You were with me. You and I had just made some big 
               deal in the Parliament. You and I are powerful ministers." 
               The tip of my nose was wet where I had touched her clitoris. 
               "You and I had never kissed, never done anything sexual 
               together." My voice as soft as it was, bellowed off her inner 
               thighs when my mouth held off from tasting her cinnamon 
               sheath. I mumbled, "And then we ... uh... hovered around 
               each other like cats scenting someone's in heat."

               "I didn't hear that," she moaned.

               I didn't bother repeating myself. I pointed my tongue and 
               flicked it into the smooth, sopping flesh. The taste was 
               cinnamon but mostly the taste that Zinta-Sandra had. I 
               wondered if that was what she meant when she said, "Think of 
               her when you think of me."

               She pressed her legs around my face. I sunk my tongue in 
               deeply. But after a few seconds I started to be smothered 
               with her thighs clenching the sides of my head. I desperately 
               pushed apart her legs just to get a clear breath.

               "Anything wrong?" she asked.

               "No," I said while standing on my knees and wiping my mouth.

               She sat up on the edge of the bed, her breasts sinking 
               slightly. She undid my pants and grabbed my erection.

               "Did you have a bath today?" she suddenly asked.

               I told that I couldn't remember and she asked me to go have 
               a quick one. Even though I was annoyed at her fanatical health 
               kick I quickly did as she asked and came back to her when I 
               was still damp.

               She pulled up my erection to her lips, making me stand up on 
               my toes to bring it closer to her mouth. She licked it, pulled 
               it between her lips. With my erection still in her mouth, I 
               stepped out of the bath robe.

               My hands stroked her curly hair and could sense the length 
               her head travelled to go up and down my erection. My erection 
               told me the same story from another point of view. It was 
               warm and wet, almost happening externally from my body. Then 
               she used a hand with her mouth and it all started to happen 
               the way it would when Zinta-Sandra and I would make love.

               'No more, Zinta-Sandra,' I remembered. 'Only one Zinta from 
               now on. My first Zinta is Sandra to everyone in the Church, 
               she will be Sandra to me as well.'

               Zinta then sent a shimmering moment into me with her slippery 
               hand and throat. My eyes rolled up, looking past the skylight

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                                                                        36.


               into the stars. A snake raced around my skin, neck and hair, 
               so fast a whirlwind was being created, lifting me off the 
               ground and leaving Zinta behind. I rose through the skylight 
               naked and cold, accelerating like in a glass elevator away 
               from the Church and the town of Killarney into space and 
               travelling at an infinite speed toward... Toward...TOWARD...

               V

               "M m m m" said Zinta with her mouth full and about to swallow.

               TOWARD a single moment of pleasure, I thought. The crystal 
               drug was at me again, running on like an old car does, it 
               had sent me on a space trip this time.

               Zinta was still desirable when I looked down at her, even 
               though I came once already. I crouched down in front of her 
               and kissed her sticky lips. With one finger I stroked her 
               stomach from side to side inching down with each stroke until 
               I was tickling the smooth hair ornamenting her sheath.

               She lay back to let me do whatever I wanted to do next.

               I dipped my finger in her sheath and tickled her from the 
               inside. My finger felt the inside wall of her and imaged to 
               my mind some fantastic landscape with green rolling hills 
               and lustrous dew-laden grass; each dew drop containing, on 
               close examination, green hills, a blue sky and a sun of its 
               own.

               'God what does thata crystal do!' I thought.

               Zinta thrust up her pelvis in reaction to my finger's 
               movements. She stayed quiet though. I began to worry about 
               being discovered. Anyone could walk up the stairs into my 
               room. I decided to move along more quickly in my love-making. 
               I lay next to Zinta kissing her and playfully biting her 
               closed lips. She turned her back to me and pulled my erection 
               between her legs. I caressed her breast while she mounted 
               me. She thrust once against me and stopped moving. She stopped 
               breathing to listen. I stopped breathing and listened too. I 
               couldn't hear anything. Zinta suddenly slipped off me and 
               stood up next to the bed.

               "I thought I ears some-hing. I guess I was wong. Bu now I 
               tink."  She was talking like she hadn't ... did she swallow 
               yet?, "I've don the wong fing. I shouldn' do this. It doesn't 
               matter if I ate Waler. I ave obligations. Huh? I'm sorry 
               Bernard."

               "Please don't change your mind." I became disgusted with 
               her.

               "Ie's othing ooh do with you. I jus feel guilty all of a 
               sudden."

               "Please don't." I tried to ignore her mouth's contents.

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                                                                        37.


               She balanced it in her mouth like it was toothpaste, "An't 
               help it. Everying everyody says about aultery makes me feel 
               itly. I can't risk his protection of the church for my little 
               pleasures. O-ay. It'sso differen to acually do it and not 
               jus think aout it. You know?

               "I'd agree if you'd not stopped. You are only the second 
               person I've done this with."

               "Me oo. I though Waler was so gweat. Now I know."

               "Now you know what?"

               "He's no the on-wy one. I neede' to know was that there was 
               an alwernaive. E made it seem like ere was no alwernawive."

               "Thank's"

               "For wha?"

               "For calling me a great lover."

               "Oh, that. Les forget it."

               I was a little ticked off by her saying forget it. I wasn't 
               sure why.

               "You implied I was a great lover a second ago," I said, "Then 
               you need to think about it to confirm what you had said 
               already? You know... that I'm a great lover?"

               "Ell you know wha I mean."

               "No, I don't." I got dressed in a suppressed rage pulling on 
               my underwear as though my chest was the natural resting place 
               for the waist band.

               "You wook silly," she told me. "Let me fix that."

               She stood up and pulled down the waist band to my hips.

               I almost screamed at he to swallow that come or spit it out, 
               but it was her mouth and I assumed she wasn't stupid.

               She continued while still touching me around the waist. "I 
               weally ad someone else in min whe I mean gweat lover. Ya see 
               I was fanasizing bout someone else whe I was makin wove oo 
               you. Sorra. Acually you were a one I was making wove oo."

               I was shocked but I had my own reply, "That's funny I did 
               too."

               Zinta smiled then laughed a little. "Oo ad someone else win 
               mine en you were ma-ing wove to me. Who? Who?"

               "You tell me first."

               "Oh, ou well me first."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        38.


               "No" I said. "What does it matter. Your spat of guilt, as 
               long as it lasts, has finished that whole business between 
               us. What do we need to talk about it further for?" I couldn't 
               stnad her talk anymore.

               She smiled again coyly with her fingers hooking and snapping 
               back the waist-band of my underwear against my skin. 
               "Maybeee... it's not finisht between us. Aaaaa-n aybe the 
               idea hat I was fantasizing about some other man or woman - 
               see I didn't say which, did I - maybe I was lying."

               She rocked from foot to foot as she spoke stimulating her 
               hard nipples against my chest. I subtly echoed her rocking 
               movements.

               "Why would you lie to me?" I finally asked.

               "Oh oy, your hard again," she said as she wrapped herself 
               around me.

               With Zinta the ocnfusion was at an end. I may have killed 
               someone now named Sandra but whatever it was that I thought 
               I had lost by that act, I could find it again.

               "Now what's wrong?" I said as Zinta peeled her body away 
               from me again.

               "Same pwobem, guilt," she said and started to dress.

               Could you please swallow that goddamm stuff!" I sweat fromt 
               he frustration of talking to her like that for so long.

               "Yeah! Is unsaniwary. I spif it out soon."

               "Why did you do it in the first place then? There's a sink 
               in my bathroom right there," I said and pointed, "Oh forget 
               it, let's just call it for the night." I went and hugged her 
               as if to say good-bye.

               "Yeah, le's nake it foe-ever."

               "What?" I said suppressing the volume of my yell.

               She wrenched herself out of my arms saying, "Et your hands 
               off me."

               Once I let go, I watched her stumble away and hit her heels 
               on the floorboards like it was a kettle drum.

               "Shhhh," I told her, pointing at her feet.

               As she threw on all her clothes she eventually said, "Shhhh 
               yerself. Why did you want to call it a night?"

               I held my breath to catch up with her, then said, "I wanted 
               to give you ... you know ... a little time to get over your 
               gult. You know ... to get over the feeling you were having."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        39.


               "I an take care of I-self ou know."

               Next, I guess, I rolled my eyes or blinked in an exasperated 
               way because she blew into a silent rage, gesticulating as 
               though she was pulling out her hair then she walked out of 
               the room.

               As I listened to her steps descend to the next level, I 
               waited, expecting her to change her mind at any moment and 
               come back and claim to be the queen of Ecuador.

               I flopped on the bed, face down into a pillow. 'What is her 
               problem! What is her damn problem!' I slowly rolled over on 
               my back and looked out beyond the skylight at the quite 
               ordinary stars out there somewhere in the universe. I wondered 
               what to do next as I fell asleep in my clothes.

               'Oh, Julie. If you wore a harness to bed maybe ytou would 
               stop rolling on me and I wouldn't have this chronic breathing 
               problem Youknow what the doctor said, my lungs are totally 
               flat....

               'How could my lungs be flat? Am I dreaming? Let's see. Julie 
               and I are married - no we're not. We're just friends - always 
               have been I've been dreaming. What a relief I was never 
               married to Julie. Julie's somewhere else. I'm not in Toronto 
               am I? I'm up north ... somewhere. I remember now - Oh no - I 
               remember everything. Oh damn!'

               I opened my eyes a crack. It was a grey day on the other 
               side of the skylight.

               'Today I get a job. Find Mr. Dempsey, see if her can help me 
               like he said he would. OH! Man! I've got to talk to zinta 
               before she wants to kick me out of the church ... some church 
               of god.. Their all just druggies here. Ah ... That damn 
               Schubel - and Nicola, what the hell was she up to last night?'

               I got out of bed slowly and went to the bathroom to get ready 
               to look for Mr. Dempsey.

               As I took off my clothes, my mind flashed moments of the 
               night with Zinta - the good parts - her breasts, her strength. 
               I was sorry she couldn't decide how she felt. I realized 
               that I was wrong to conclude she ws crazy, she felt guilty 
               and it made her indecisive. That's all that was wrong.

               "I'd look crazy,' I figured, 'To anyone watching me over the 
               last few weeks.'

               Having just reflected on my recent past, I went downstairs 
               in a very anxious state; ready to run from the first person 
               I saw, fearful of where they might lead me.

               'Hey I'm the one who wanted to get the job, I'm the one that 
               suggested it to Mr. Dempsey. Maybe I do have control of my 
               life again. Maybe I shouldn't be so sared.'

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        40.


               Even so, I passed several people without asking them where 
               Mr. Dempsey was, just in case they might cause another 
               misdirection in my life. I found Mr. Dempsey in the living 
               room with Nicola having a nice chat with her.

               "Are you ready to take me to your work, Mr. Dempsey?" I asked.

               "Good morning Bernard," said Nicola.

               I nodded to Nicola without smiling. She got the hint that I 
               wasn't happy with her.

               "We've been ... ah" said Mr. Dempsey "comparing notes on 
               your 'blood letting' on the way up here from Toronto. We've 
               arrived at a rather strange conclusion."

               "He has," said Nicola pointing at the teacher.

               "Yes, well - I don't think it's a coincidence that the severe 
               bleeding you experienced on your forearms and head is the 
               same kind of bleeding you say you inflicted on your late 
               girlfriend. I've come to the hasty conclusion that your 
               bleeding was stigmata. I think the proof is the simple fact 
               that you healed these severe cuts on your head and forearms, 
               without the slightest scarring, in minutes. It's like a ... 
               like a faith sickness. It's my guess you identified with the 
               suffering you put your firlgrined thourhg. So much so that 
               your mind and your emotions worked together to create these 
               fissures on your own skin - So what do you think of my 
               theory?"

               "Are we going to look for a job for me this morning?" I asked 
               him.

               "You know, I thought it was such a good explanation. I'm 
               sorry you didn't like it." Mr. Dempsey didn't look fazed in 
               the slightest by my brush off. In fact it made him look quite 
               content.

               "The job?" I insisted.

               "Yes. Yes. I made a quick phone call to my employer. You've 
               got a job."

               "Great!" I was so relieved that I didn't care what job it 
               was, or what it paid. I had a job and it was the start of my 
               new life. I stood in front of Nicola and Mr. Dempsey, smiling 
               and giving a long sigh.

               "Hello? Bernard? You want to know what your job is?"

               "Oh sure,"

               "The equivalent of a pack horse and dishwasher. The guide 
               they have for the cross-country bicycle expeditions said 
               they needed the extra hand on the long trips. It's not a 
               great jhob. It doesn't pay well."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        41.


               "I don't mind. I look forward to it - when do I start?"

               "In a couple of days. They'll only pay for the days you work. 
               In cash if you want; once you finish each trip. Is that all-
               right?"

               "Oh yeah!"

               "You can come with me to work today and get yourself 
               familiarized with the job if you want. I doubt it's a job 
               that calls for much training. Still, come alongin case you 
               have any questions."

               "I'd like to, thanks."

               I sat down on a couch next to Nicola and we stared uneasily 
               at each other.

               She worked her face into a smile and asked, "Had breakfast?"

               I delayed longer than would be expected before I answered, 
               "No."

               "Let's go have some," she said with guilt laden enthusiasm.

               We stood up together and said good-bye to Mr. Dempsey. Then 
               there was a knock at the door. Nicola answered it as I went 
               into the kitchen to wait for her to catch up.

               "Zinta! Door!" I heard Nicola yell upstairs. Then she came 
               into the kitchen with me and pressed a stray red bang to the 
               to of her head from in front of her eye. "Delivery guy from 
               the drug store. I hear Zinta's a real hypochondriac. He said 
               it was 'results'. What kind? I would bet it's for some disease 
               that's extinct, like AIDS."

               I took a quick look out the door and saw Zinta paying off 
               the guy. When she caught a glance at me she looked guilty 
               for the night before and the way she had treated me. She ran 
               off with her 'results' and I returned to Nicola. I walked 
               around her through the kitchen. We scrounged through the 
               fridge, one after the other, finding what we wanted before 
               sitting down to a milk-drowned something.

               "Well. We're in private Bernard."

               "Yeah. We are," I said in mid-munch.

               "We have no commitment to each other. Have we?"

               "I guess not," I said gulping before I was ready.

               "Schubel and I got together again last night..."

               "Yeah. Yeah," I said looking away from her.

               'Why would I have any reason to be jealous? Why? Why was I 
               so jealous then? I had just been with another woman. Right?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        42.


               RIGHT?'

               Then Nicola, after a long pause said, "Maybe we should just 
               forget what happened yesterday. Eh? What did you say?"

               I leaned my elbow down to the table top, brought my hands 
               towards each other and patted my fist. I looked directly in 
               her eyes while I stood up from my chair. She held my gaze as 
               I placed my hand on her shoulder and kissed her forehead.

               She took my hand in hers and tugged at me to sit down again. 
               I resisted, kissed the back of her hand then turned it over 
               and kissed her satly fingers. I looked at the hand I kissed, 
               her emotions had condensed water in her calloused palm like 
               a cloud does on an impassable mountain.

               I decided to give the cloud a little help; I drank from her 
               palm then covered her hand in mine. My other hand touched 
               her red hair while I descended and kissed her lips.

               My jealousy was gone. I was assuming I had won her from 
               Schubel While I worried about my next move she took control 
               of the kiss by grabbing my lower lip in her teeth then 
               standing to her feet to drink from me.

               She pushed me against the table so hard I tipped the milk-
               drowned something and some of it soaked into the seat of my 
               pants. I pulled my face away from Nicola to tell her what 
               happened but she spoke first, "Ahhhh. you know, Bernard isn't 
               sex the most pure thing?"  She slurred every word.

               She wiped her lips as I mentioned the stain on my pants.

               She looked stunned. I began to think I'd said something really 
               shocking. Then she said with embarrassment for me, "Do you 
               often have premature ejaculation?"

               "NO! What did I say?...Didn't I just say I stained my pants 
               with milk?"

               "Oh, I'm sorry, Schubel always calls it 'The Milk'. I forgot 
               he is, well probably is, the only one that uses that term."

               "Schubel, Schubel, Schubel! I don't want to know about him."

               "I'm sorry ... I don't know what to say no," Nicola said. 
               Then as though to herself she said, "I don't know what i'm 
               thinking! Let's get out of the kitchen."

               I followed her closely out the kitchen door, where luckily 
               no one had their ear pressed to listen. Nicola went to her 
               room, waited for me to go in with her then she quietly locked 
               the door.

               "Look, I'm sorry but we need to stop doing this. As much as 
               I am attracted to you, I can't be stupid and heopardize the 
               chance we have here. I can't be attached to you in any way."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        43.


               "Why? I don't get it."

               "Schubel is very healous about me and spiteful. He could 
               kick us out if he felt like it."

               "Why stay here? We could leave right now. We should get out 
               of here nayway. The Red and Whites could find us here, or 
               the cops might have a reason to pick us up themselves - then 
               it would be straight back to Toronto and probably death."

               "I thought you wanted to give yourself up, all that guyilt 
               and everything. Now you're scared of being caught? Make up 
               your mind."

               "All right, all right. There's no point anymore. I mean, 
               those people that know I'm a murderer don't care. And those 
               that would care, don't know. It's like I'm some old war vet 
               admitting to some crime committed during wartime or even 
               like I'm just another person with a skeleton in my closet. 
               To everyone it's just another story to think about. Maybe if 
               I seemed more like a criminal, or was more rude or something 
               I could get a little more reaction."

               Nicola scratched her nose in a frustrated fashion and said, 
               "You know you don't sound like you're looking for justice 
               for your claimed offense, you're looking redemption - or 
               you're looking for a little attention. Whatever you're doing 
               it's hwat you want - and I can't see how you cna find justice 
               when you're the one that wants it. Whatever it is that you 
               choose to do, you're going to do it because it will make you 
               feel better in some way."

               "Okay! Okay! Let's just drop the whole idea of going to the 
               cops."

               "It's like Satanists; how much of a punishment could a hell 
               be to them when they want to go there?"

               "Okay. Enough!  Please. I'm dropping the whole idea." I took 
               a deep breath and remembered what I wanted to say, "Okay now - 
               let's leave the Church and go farther north. Maybe to New 
               Ottawa or Iqalauit - maybe we ... Why not New Ottawa?"

               "No - no - NO." Nicola remembered what she had been saying. 
               "I'm staying no matter what you do - it's now because of 
               Schubel.It's because this place is comfortable to me. The 
               Church does things I'm into: outside the drugs. I think we 
               would be safer here then if we were running around the country 
               because the people here will protect us. at least try to as 
               long as Schubel wants them to - stay. Stay with me and we'll 
               just be friends. Okay?"

               Nicola saying we would be friends made me pause like I had 
               seen some familiar person off in the distance. I reacted 
               quickly, before any anger could develop. I blurted out, "Okay - 
               Okay - Okay!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        44.


               and walked out of her room. I heard her call to me to come 
               back but I just couldn't let myself wait to see what I would 
               do next. I walked out of the house and down to the horrible 
               beach.

               I walked across the sand as breakers ineffectually but 
               persistently pounded their fists into the ground. What could 
               I think of to take my mind off my problems?... Sex? - No. 
               Were Mr. Dempsey's teachings going to help me out? I had no 
               idea. ... The referendum? Why should I care about politics? 
               Besides, I'd end up worrying about what the Red and Whites 
               might do to me if they found me. Not Zinta - either of the 
               zintas. Not Nicola - and not Schubel or Walter. I wondered 
               what Julie was up to. Then I saw Zinta's parents flash in my 
               mind. They were good to me. They were so good I .... Zinta 
               and her parents made me feel like I was asleep, free to dream 
               when I wanted, how I wanted. What I dreamt was not important, 
               as long as I couldn't remember anything. From minute to minute 
               I would forget everything that meant anything to me. good or 
               bad. I had avoided conssciousness! I din't know why.

               'I don't know why,' I emphasized to myself.

               A fat rain drop hit my cheek. I stood still and checked the 
               gray clouds. Nothing more came of it.

               'Mr. Dempsey - "The Teacher"', I thought. 'Maybe he can teach 
               me something after all.'

               I ran back to the Church looking for the teacher; stomaching 
               the need to ask Nicola where he was. I found him and he led 
               me out of the house.

               "Bad day for a referendum, eh?" Mr. Dempsey asked.

               I nodded.

               "We're going to vote right away if you don't mind."

               "I can't," I told him.

               "Well, I was meaning myself. I know you've got some troubles."

               I wondered what side he would vote for, so I asked.

               "It's none of your business, but I'll tell you anyway. I'm 
               voting YES. It rifles me that our votes in general are 
               meaningless when faced by the displeasures of opposing powers. 
               They try, and more often than not, succeed in pressuring the 
               modification of our referendum results. They succeed for one 
               reason only, they have the weapons to imply the threat. In 
               other words the sovereignty of our people and our votes is 
               contingent on a YES victory."

               "I thought ... I mean it seemed when you argued with that 
               guy last night you were against nuclear weapons."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        45.


               "If you remember, I had reservations about Canada pursuing 
               nuclear weapons for the same reason that I want them. It's a 
               lose-lose situation because if we get them then other powers 
               will want to interfere in our affairs and if we don't get 
               them then it will be easy for other powers to interfere."

               I started to regret asking him anything. But then I decided 
               if he was going to teach me anything it was going to be how 
               to fix all my problems. Maybe he could help me.

               "I have one thing that I want you to teach me," I said.

               "Okay, what is it?"

               'How to solve all my problems"

               He laughed so deliriously that the woman approaching us down 
               the cobblestone hill changed her mind and hurried to get out 
               of our way.

               "I love it!" he screamed at me. "I'll do it, if you promise 
               to give me chance."

               "I'll give you a chance. If you don't waste my time."

               "I won't waste your time. In fact you'll want me to."

               "Why would I want that?" I asked.

               "I withdraw that last statement. So - never mind. Come and 
               watch me vote."

               We arrived at the polling station and were immediately swamped 
               by a dozen or more children waiting to leave the station 
               with their teacher.

               "I love it that kids vote now. You know my grade two students 
               were no more human or "right" when I saw them again in grade 
               twelve.I'm so glad to see children listend to for a change."

               I waited outside the polling station for a few minutes while 
               Mr. Dempsey voted. He came out of the station excited and 
               smiling.

               "You'll never believe the new registration system they have."

               He laughed with a wonderment in his eyes. "It's a voice print 
               registration. They say it takes five seconds of networking 
               the polling stations to see if your voice print has registered 
               already today. You know, somewhere else in the country. Then 
               you just go vote."

               "So? I still can't vote. They would know where I was."

               "Now, don't let that worry you. They say all voice print 
               information is scuttled after final recount and is not 
               available to taxation or law enforcement officials. What do 
               you say? How about casting a ballot, as the saying goes?"

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                                                                        46.


               "I can't, it's too risky."

               "I know it doesn't matter to you. But it does to me. do this 
               for me and it will be the only thing I ask in return for 
               helping you solve all your problems."

               "I thought I was helping you - as much as you could help 
               me."

               "Please do me this favour. Please."

               I gave in to his plea nervously entering the station and 
               following the directions of a woman into the polling booth. 
               The computer in a female voice asked me how old I was and I 
               ansered that I was six years old to protect myself.

               The computer answered, "Don't you sound like a big boy."

               It asked my name. I answered truthfully, "Bernard Kimosa."

               "There are three Bernard Kimosa's. Ages seventy-six, thrity 
               and fourteen. No one likes a liar. What age are you?"

               "I'm sorry, I'm thirty. I'm really sorry for lying."

               "We just want your vote here."

               It shut up for longer than ten seconds and I started to panic, 
               "Can I vote now?"

               "You are now registered to vote. The proposition before you 
               is to decide YES, NO or 'Opposed to question being put to 
               the ballot', to the following question: Do you want Canada 
               to have nuclear weapons?"

               "Take your time to answer the question."

               I suddenly realized what Mr. Dempsey had meant by other powers 
               interfering in Canada's sovereignty. But instead of voting 
               YES like he did I realized that the vote itself had opened 
               the country to manipulations of groups like the Red and Whites 
               and I said to teh computer,  "Opposed to question being put 
               to ballot."

               "Thank you for your participation. The proceedings are 
               completed."

               I hesitated to leave the sound proof booth. THere was 
               something about the computer that was enthralling. The voice 
               quality was authoritative, controlled. It was the kind of 
               authority figure I was searching for after I confessed my 
               crimes to Nicola. It was not corrupted, it was fair-minded 
               and honest. I had to ask it a question, "Computer could you 
               tell me how I could give myself up for a murder I committed. 
               All I want is justice."

               "I'm not familiar with the term 'murder'."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        47.


               "But can you find me justice?"

               "Call 911."

               I walked out of the booth overcome by the innocence of the 
               computer.

               "Dempsey!" I yelled when I saw Mr. Dempsey. "I haven't voted 
               in over a year. I didn't realize how good the computer system 
               has become. No wonder you wanted me to see it."

               "Please use, Mister, with my last name."

               "Sure, Why does it matter?"

               "No reason. I just prefer it. Okay?"

               I agreed and we continued through the town. We reached the 
               northern outskirts, coming to a shack and an old log cabin. 
               Bicycle parts were scattered widely over balding grass. An 
               old man was shuffling over them, kicking the parts with his 
               foot and studying them as we approached.

               "Hello Mr. Dempsey", the old man called in our general 
               direction.

               "This is our boss, Bernard ... Gerald, this is Bernard."

               We all shook hands, and I was puzzled by the reversal of the 
               normal conventions for workers and bosses in their manners. 
               Mr. Dempsey acted like the boss. I replayed their greeting 
               to each other in my head while Mr. Dempsey explained what my 
               job would be. Gerald suddenly clapped his hands, wlaked away 
               and yelped, "Back to work!" Mr. Dempsey signaled to me to 
               follow him.

               When we were standing out of hearing range from gerald, Mr. 
               Dempsey said to me, "Don't worry if he seems to be yelling 
               at you, he was really telling himself to go back to work. 
               He's a good boss. He'll trust you - until you screw him 
               somehow."

               I stood around watching Mr. Dempsey organize, clean, file 
               and pack. He was reading from a list of duties. I didn't 
               want to bother him so I went outside to think.

               'Maybe I should list my problems for Dempsey - he could tackle 
               it like he's tackling that junk. Then I - maybe I could know 
               what the hell he's talking about and what comes next - God - 
               I have a feeling he's going to screw me up somehow.'

               I took a plaid blanket that was covering a wood pile. It was 
               chilly outside and I wanted to sit somewhere where I could 
               see the lake.

               I jumped on top of a boulder, shook dust and bark flakes off 
               the blanket, and wrapped my legs before I sat down. Lake 
               Huron, or the part of it that I now lived near, was spotted

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        48.


               with vessels returning to a small port that lay to the west - 
               to my right. the lake seemed calm to me at the distance I 
               found myself away from it, except when the small boats 
               disappeared at times, then reappeared. The wind where I sat 
               was so faint, the scene in front of me seemed to be on a 
               movie screen. In fact I was feeling that way about a lot of 
               things that happened to me. Like everything happening to me 
               was being rammed througha movie camers. Maybe that was a 
               problem I was having. Dempsey could tell me, I decided.

               'A list. First, what are my problems? What are anyone's 
               problems. Money, girlfriends, jobs, the system, health - 
               Yeah, I guess those are my problems too. Why don't I feel 
               like they are, though?'

               My pockets had something hta tstuck into me as I sat. I took 
               out the offending item and saw that it was a Church of God 
               pamphlet. I didn't recall putting it there. But I wanted to 
               take a little while I had the time. I debated the pros and 
               cons for a second then took a little taste. I waited for the 
               wall of fear, or love, or water, or something to crash into 
               me for a change. But as usual I couldn't tell if and when 
               the drug was doing something to my mind.

               'The list. I should think of specifics; maybe not. All the 
               specific things I can think of have already happened. I want 
               to handle any problem and make it just go away - like it was 
               never there.'

               Dempsey called out to find me and I called him over.

               "I wanted to see if you were all right," he said. "I have 
               lunch coming up. I want you to answer a question when I come 
               back. I is - and I ask in the spirit that this great 
               referendum today has bequeathed to me personally - it is; 
               'What is the limit of democracy?' I'll talk to you later." 
               He walked back to the shack.

               I said bye and tried to find the answer to his question before 
               I forgot what he wanted, 'What is the limit of democracy? 
               What is the limit of democracy?'

               I tried to apply the question to the fact that the new age 
               to vote was down to three years old. But I couldn't imagine 
               how young it was technically possible to go before it was 
               the limit of democracy. I took another tactic to answer the 
               question. Perhaps he meant in terms of the decisions that a 
               government must make to rule a country. That sometimes they 
               make decisions that are unpopular because they are the best 
               choices. And are often proved right. But the whole issue was 
               hard to define in the sense that there is no perfect balance 
               between the decisions of a government and the wishes of the 
               sovereign people. The third way I took to answer the question 
               was equally unsatisfying. A constitution limited democracy 
               by not allowing a majority to do what it wanted with a 
               minority. Often at the expense of a majority. Related to the 
               constitution was the aspect that in many countries, indigenous 
               people had extra rights simply for being related to people

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        49.


               that were mistreated. In Canada the birth right of indigenous 
               people alone made them the only ones allowed to choose the 
               head of state, The Executive General. An impossible 
               contradiction to the belief in democracy and the sovereignty 
               of the people.

               By the time Dempsey came back I was totally lost. I said to 
               him, "I may have made a mistake. I took some of the crystal 
               drug before you asked me that question. I think it screwed 
               up my mind or something."

               "I don't think it could. It has quite the opposite effect. 
               It should boost your mind." Then he offered me one of his 
               sandwiches, "This should cut the effect of the drug. Have 
               it."

               "Thanks," I said, "Well, the only answer I can come up with 
               is... There is no limit to democracy."

               "Sounds like a hingle I heard on a commercial last week. 'If 
               your regular gums lets you down, just remember, there's no 
               limit to a pack of Ciao.' You know it probalby makes more 
               sense to Italian speakers - anyway! The answer is simple to 
               my question and is unfortunately an attitude as much as a 
               truth. 'Man'" Dempsey sneered comically, "' I didn't ask t 
               ob e born, ya know?"

               "Is that the answer?"

               "Yes Sir. No one can be asked if they want to be born. There 
               can be no more important thing to be asked than that, and it 
               cannot be asked. I can't stress that enough, even though it 
               does seem a bit obvious. The limit of democracy is that the 
               humans to come can't have a say in what they will inherit. 
               Just as what we inherit we had no say in. In the last century, 
               government after government cut taxes, cut services and built 
               up a debt because the voters wanted it that way. The voter 
               didn't include those that would down the road eventually 
               need to pay that debt. The problem was a perpetual one until 
               it all came down like a house of cards and ended the histories 
               of not a few great nations. Canada survived because it had 
               no pride or faith in the country to lose, it just went on. I 
               say all this because it's a good example of how existing 
               humanity fails potential humanity. But the main way potential 
               humanity is ignored and failed is in the total indiffrence 
               to the concept of extending the rights of our democratic 
               society to include future or potential beings."

               I felt depressed at his suggestion, then I tried to change 
               the subject. "So, when are you going to help me solve my 
               problems?"

               "I've already started."

               "You mean," I said indignantly, "you're going to help me 
               solve my problems by giving me impossible problems to play 
               with?"

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                                                                        50.


               "No. I pointed out the key to solve every problem you're 
               faced with. First you are conceived by accident: your parents 
               can't choose who they will conceive and you cannot be asked 
               if you want life. Next is your fist choice in life - but it 
               is not not an informed choice. Once you're born - will you 
               breathe or not. Will you want to eat or not. will you wnat 
               your mother's bosom for comfort? You see the choice is the 
               second key to solve your problems. What some people call 
               instinct, I call the meaning of life - the trick. The only 
               inherent meaning that life itself has to offer. Genetic tricks 
               to keep you living long enough to reproduce and to reproduce 
               again and again. Hunger to make you eat. Fear to make you 
               fight for your life. Pain to know what will hurt this body 
               you inhabit. Sexual attraction to repeat the mistake again 
               for the next generation-"

               "What are you trying to tell me? That there is no reason on 
               earth for our lives? That we just piss around here for a 
               while for no reason at all?'

               "Answer your own question and find out."

               "I can't do that."

               "Why can't you?"

               "It's too big a question for me to answer."

               "Who's big enough then?"

               "Well, I don't think any one person can - I know God is big 
               enough. God's all-powerful. He started it all."

               "Okay, let's assume that God exists with complete certainty."

               "Okay."

               "Okay, What is the point of God?"

               "To look after us."

               "So God exists to serve us."

               "NO! ...We exist to serve God."

               "So he creates us to serve God. But I've never done anything 
               to serve God. I've never seen or witnessed anything that 
               could serve God in anyway. If God is all-powerful what could 
               we possibly do to serve God."

               "Worship it."

               Dempsey laughed and turned his face toward a break in the 
               clouds. "Will God wither if it goes a day without someone 
               worshipping it. If that was true, God wouldn't be the supreme 
               force in the universe. The force that makes God wither would 
               be a notch more powerful. Wouldn't it?"

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                                                                        51.


               "I guess so." He was making me so angry, but I was no more 
               devout in my actions than he was. He was attacking my basic 
               beliefs and I needed to defend myself somehow."

               "Dempsey?"

               "I asked you not to call me that. Use Mister, please."

               I knew that would bug him. I did have a question though, 
               "God doesn't need anything from us. But it gives us purpose 
               and that's all that matters right?"

               "A door knob would give you as much purpose. What matters to 
               you? What is the purpose of your existence? That's the 
               question."

               I slapped my leg in frustration. "Okay. Well he gives us the 
               things that matter to us; friends, food, sex, love-

               "Those things are functioning in our lives without any help. 
               God is irrelevant. Those things you mentioned are what matter 
               to us because we let it matter to us. It's part of the Trick."

               "God started it all then!"

               "It could be dead now for all that it matters."

               "I thought you were supposed to be helping me solve my 
               problems? You're just getting me mad."

               "I'm sorry that happened, but either you listen and trust me 
               or you won't be able to solve your problems."

               I was so upset I was ready to forget him and the whole thing.

               He tried again to get me to listen, "I asked you earlier to 
               give me some room to get you interested, didn't I?"

               "Yeah, I know."

               "Okay, we'll start again later, okay?"

               I agreed. He went back to his job. I was left to try and 
               sort out what he said while swallowing the pork sandwich he 
               gave me for my lunch. I couldn't get past the feeling he had 
               something against God.

               I don't have to go to church or pray to God to believe in 
               God - I don't need to prove anything to God - I believe - so 
               what if it doesn't make sense to Dempsey - I believe that 
               God is there - it doesn't matter that God hasn't done anything 
               in front of me - it could happen in the future. You 
               know...that computer was like I imagined God; fair, honest 
               and innocent. It could have been God. It was forgiving... 
               just like God.

               'What am I saying? ...I'm starting to see God in everything. 
               I'm never like this.'

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                                                                        52.


               I laughed secretly to myself, '... it must be the crystal 
               ... Dempsey thinks it makes you see the truth. What a joke. 
               How much do I believe in God anyway? Okay, well, my belief 
               in God hasn't made the slightest difference to my life, and 
               I doubt to God either. But I have to believe in God or else 
               what is the point?  God has power - the most power. God would 
               have the answers.'

               I lay my back down on the boulder and looked up at the clouds 
               as they split apart and showed the blue sky, and occasionally 
               a few seconds of direct sunshine. I pulled the blanket over 
               as much of my body as possible. I put my hand behind my head 
               to cushion it and tried to sleep off my unsettling thoughts.

               'Hey, that air smells good.' I sat up again to discover what 
               it was I was smelling. It turned out to be nothing more than 
               air drifting out of the nearby forest. The wet earth or some 
               fall flowers, it didn't matter. The fragrance ws giving me a 
               new perception. The boats out in the rough lake: in the wake 
               of nature. They could sense a higher power at work. I Dempsey 
               couldn't see that there was a higher power, than he wasn't 
               worth talking to.

               I lay down again and looked up. I looked into the clouds 
               again, this time with a whole new way to see them. I watched 
               the drama of the trailing clouds; how they twisted and drowned 
               in the growing blue atmosphere.

               I had considered during the morning that a walk through town  
               was a good way to use up the afternoon. But I changed my 
               mind for two reasons: one, I didn't care to find myself 
               involved in a referendum day street argument, and two, the 
               day's sky show was already an entertainment to me. A front 
               row seat to the earth's simple amusements. I took a simple 
               breath, with a simple grin, because I was cherishing some 
               simple thoughts.

               

               VI

               "Bernard!.... Bernard!" Dempsey had pulled the blanket off 
               my legs and a chill washed across them. "Let's get back for 
               dinner."

               I followed him, reluctantly leaving the warmth of the dirty 
               blanket back where I found it on the wood pile. Then I had 
               trouble walking in a straight line after I got a head rush.

               "Oh Bernard, you look awful."

               I was so upset that he thought so. Awful sounded like a 
               substitute for pitiful. I wanted to please him all of a 
               sudden. I even lied to please him, "Okay, God is irrelevant 
               to our physical lives. I see now."

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                                                                        53.


               I could tell he didn't buy it. He said, "All I want to add 
               on the subject of God is; why would God want to exist any 
               more than you do?"

               I said after a long pause of complete incomprehension, "That's 
               a question only God could answer."

               "Then all I need to say further on the subject is you can't 
               solve your problems if you have questions you're not allowed 
               to answer. Look for answers that make sense forget that they 
               may be inconvenient and you'll eventually stop acting like 
               an idiot."

               I was insulted into silence. We walked home without another 
               word to each other.

               Walter met us at the door. Dempsey and I went in different 
               directions once we were inside the Church. Walter tried to 
               chat with me as he followed me into the ktichen. I grabbed a 
               snack with Walter literally shoulder to shoulder with me, 
               anticipating what I was reaching for in the fridge and 
               grabbing it first to hand it to me.

               "Could you let me get it myself, if you don't mind?" I told 
               Walter.

               "Sure thing," he said, "How did your day with Mr. Dempsey 
               go?"

               "You know him better than I do. What do you think happened?"

               "He bummed you out, right?"

               "Yeah."

               "He talked about the pointlessness of life and all that, 
               right?"

               "Yeah. He did."

               "Give him a chance. He'll be more friendly and ...n..normal 
               when you get to know him better."

               "I wasn't just being friendly. I asked him for the benefit 
               of his wisdom. I thought I might need some professional help - 
               I didn't mean to make it sound like I wanted a shrink. Just 
               some advice."

               "I understand. I could offer you an alternative. Didn't you 
               serve in the cadets when you were younger?"

               "Yeah."

               "Enjoy yourself?"

               "Yeah."

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                                                                        54.


               "How would you like to come and visit my troop with me? Recall 
               old times. Maybe join in and make some new friends?"

               I had the feeling he wanted to trap me. He might have just 
               found out what his Zinta and I had done the night before. He 
               might have wanted to get revenge or something. I politely 
               refused, but he didn't seem upset or put off.

               "That's okay. The offer stands. Any time you want some rest 
               and relaxation at the cadet base just tell me and you have 
               it. Okay?"

               "Sure."

               "I don't want to pry but was Mr. Dempsey laying out his whole 
               scheme, you know, meaning of life, the Trick and everything?"

               "Yeah, he was. I asked him to help me be able to solve my 
               problems better."

               "He's a very smart man. You could learn much from his years 
               of experience. Yes, much... Listen, I've already had the 
               benefit of a head start on you when it comes to his ideas. 
               If you want, say you have a misunderstanding of one of his 
               ideas. Why not come to me and we'll talk about it. Maybe 
               another angle might help you figure it all out."

               I was surprised and happy that he was finally being 
               considerate to me, so of course I agreed.

               He suddenly lowered his head and looked embarrassed saying, 
               "I hope you can forgive me for being so ... unfriendly before 
               I had a chance to get to know you. I'm sorry, I really am."

               I told him that it was not a problem.

               He grabbed me around the shoulders like an old buddy and 
               said, "Remember, just give me a shout if you have any trouble 
               with Mr. Dempsey."

               We left the kitchen in different directions. I went to my 
               room and cleaned up before I responded to Nicola's call for 
               dinner. She and I seemed to be respectful to each other again; 
               as I was being with Dempsey.

               Schubel was the cook again and Nicola sat beside him. Dempsey 
               chatted briefly to me on the subject of quasars. I didn't 
               hear two words. A little private revenge for me and I was 
               happy again.

               'Sex is just a trick. Sure.' I scoffed in my mind at Dempsey's 
               lunch break write off of the human species. 'A trick implies 
               that someone is actively tricking people ...A-ha he implied 
               a supreme power does exist after all. I'll get him on that 
               one.' I hesitated to bring up the subject of sex at the table 
               with Zinta and Walter. I wasn't sure if Zinta could hold our 
               secret during such a discussion.

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                                                                        55.


               'It was worth it to have sex with her, if that's what it 
               was. Maybe Dempsey will help me see how impractical it is to 
               do things like screwing around with Zinta, before they happen. 
               It was so idiotic - in fact I can't remember the last time I 
               did something that made sense. I rescue Nicola for nothing, 
               I get married to nobody, and I kill the person that meant 
               more to me than my life is worth to me now. I wish I'd killed 
               myself before I'd been born into this new life.'

               Zinta and I stared at each other, then she left the table, 
               fully aware I would watch her body as she walked away. She 
               had already given me the mysteries under the clothes. How 
               could she expect me not to think of her beautiful body. She 
               was so exotic to me; the peach like texture of her stomach 
               and breasts, her sinewy movements, and the aroma of cinnamon 
               from her sheath.

               I realized if I was going to stand and leave the roomn with 
               everyone I was going to hurt myself. I waited until most 
               people had left the dining room. When no one was looking at 
               me i straightened my cramped erection so I could stand up 
               and leave.

               Nicola met me while I went to my room where she wanted to 
               talk to me alone. I decided to risk the possibility that 
               Zinta was waiting for me already in my room. If Nicola wanted 
               to see who I was with the night before, I was going to let 
               her. She could run back to Schubel any time she wanted.

               "Bernard," Nicola said the second we arrived.

               I was recovering from the disappointment I had in the fact 
               that Zinta was not in my room.

               "Bernard, I hope you're staying with me. I think it would be 
               the best thing for you to do." Nicola held my hand as we sat 
               on the edge of the bed. I was still cold to her. I was sure 
               she meant that Schubel would stay her lover and I would be a 
               friend. Nicola put the back of her other hand to my cheek, 
               lightly stroking down. Then she took her limp fingers to the 
               top of my head and repeated the stroking movement down my 
               hair. Such small actions calmed me. If being a friend to her 
               meant that she could still hold me and touch me like she was 
               at that moment I was willing to let her have her way.

               I heard a few people shouting at each other a floor below 
               us. I let go of Nicola's hand and listened down the stairwell. 
               Nicola came to listen next to me.

               "Fu-you'r-No-she-jet-kic-sim-dibx-"

               "Do you know what's going on?" I asked Nicola.

               We couldn't decide who was saying what so we went down to 
               see.

               "I'm happy, okay? Is that okay with you?" said a man.

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                                                                        56.


               "How can you be happy. It's all downhill from here" said a 
               woman.

               Nicola and I asked the couple arguing if they would keep 
               their voices down.

               The woman standing in the hall passage replied to us. "Aren't 
               you upset? The whole country is going to go downhill because 
               of this result for the referendum."

               Both Nicola and I wanted to know the results before we 
               answered her question.

               "It just came on the news. No one wanted nuclear weapons. 
               Only thirty-seven percent voted for it." The man seemed to 
               explain it satisfactorily, but the woman grew furious and 
               interjected, "Only thirty-nine said against if you're going 
               to look at it that way."

               Neither Nicola nor I had a problem figuring the remaining 
               twenty-three percent voted against the referendum, too small 
               a dissatisfaction with the proposition to cancel the results. 
               She and I joined Schubel and Dempsey in the living room, and 
               quite quickly I grew tired of a riot developing as each 
               additional voice added to the frenzied brew. Walter stayed 
               out of it but I could seee from his smugness that the outcome 
               contented his undeclared wishes. Zinta wandered into the 
               fray upset at the NO party's win and using bull to make her 
               point. "Hey Schubel, break out the nukes you've been hiding, 
               it's a stampede! Let's be the first ones to stake a claim to 
               New Ottawa."

               Walter looked concerend until Schubel laughed and dismissed 
               her comments with a wave of his hand.

               I was thinking how the Red and Whites were celebrating back 
               in Toronto. 'Gloating is what they're doing - I can see their 
               faces - more smug than Walter that's for sure.'

               I went outside for a walk in the dark. A warm breeze was 
               sweeping in off the lake. I breathed deeply with every slow 
               step I took to the beach. I sat on the soft sand. The dark 
               blue 'white caps' on the waves were the only visible feature 
               on the lake while I waited for the moon to rise.

               I was the idiot that Dempsey claimed I was. With all the 
               distractions, blinding guilt, and new people in my life I 
               had forgotten something; I had forgotten that Sandra, my 
               Sandra, was at the core of all my problems, and all my 
               solutions. If it wasn't a hopeless quest to find her again 
               that led me to the point I found myself, then it was the 
               hope I would find the same satisfaction in someone else, or 
               in something else. I tried to order my thoughts.

               'Do I want my old life back? Yes - I hate to struggle.

               'Next, can someone I don't know replace Sandra?

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                                                                        57.


               'Thirdly, what, if not a person, can stop my need to struggle?

               MONEY, I HAVE NONE LEFT. BUT IT COULD IF I HAD TI. - LOVE. 
               OF WHAT? OF MONEY? OF FOOD? OF THIRST? OF SEX? SEX IS JUST A 
               TRICK, RIGHT? -DEATH? DEATH? I GUESS THAT WOULD STOP THE 
               NEED TO STRUGGLE.

               'Make a list Bernard. Make a list.'

               The bright moon appeared from behind a distant tree mocking 
               the sun just as the weather mocked a summer heat wave. The 
               temperature grew so rapidly I took off my shirt to pretend I 
               was tanning. I lay my back down ont he whirling earth and 
               observed the universe pass me by.

               'Superior power, not God. Yes, I see. The idea of God is 
               like a person. But that's not what happens. It's not a person 
               out there in space ruling our lives. It's a force greater 
               than the combined power of humanity. Maybe that force can 
               help me end my struggle - no wait - it's that force that 
               makes me struggle to find shelter, food, friends, and sends 
               every problem that I deal with my way. I should just go back 
               to finding something to replace Sandra-Zinta.

               'A list. A quest. To where? For what?

               'I know - Sandra-Zinta had a plan to go and find a fresh 
               start in New Ottawa. Maybe I should go and try to find what 
               she  thought she could find for herself. Maybe it was as 
               simple as finding a new job. Or a new environment. Perhaps 
               it was power she was after. There is a lot of power, I hear, 
               spilling on to the streets in over abundance.'

               I realized power could have motivated her to go. After years 
               of chaining herself to my welfare. I think it would have 
               made sense to her to not only break free of me, but to 
               overcompensate and look for as much influence and power as 
               she could possess. New Ottawa made sense to me finally. It 
               was power over my life that was my quest now. I looked at it 
               as a homage to Zita. Even if it wasn't.

               'Power over my life. Power over my life' I said apathetically 
               to myself in the attempt to memorize my new catch phrase. 
               Manipulating my life had failed in the past and I was reduced 
               to appealing to what I had in common with all the victims of 
               the Red and Whites, the love for the simple answer.

               VII

               'Power over my life,' I thought to myself as I stood and 
               patted the sand off my trousers and bare back. I walked home 
               to the Church hoping the hot wind coming from the southw as 
               going to follow me north to New Ottawa.

               Suddenly I came across an injured cat. It was a patchy tabby 
               and its back looked to be broken. A rock nearby allowed me 
               to guess some nasty kid had done it. I ran around and asked 
               people where to find the closest vet and someone offered to

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                                                                        58.


               get her for me while I looked after the cat. It meowed with 
               terrible pain and struggled to get up. I tried to hold its 
               head down but it bit me very hard and I had to let it struggle 
               in its terrible pain. The vet arrived and immediately decided 
               to put it to sleep. She injected it with a fluid that relaxed 
               it and put it out of its misery in less than ten seconds. 
               All over my body a sense of envy took hold and I went home 
               wondering why.

               Most of the Church members were in bed. I flicked my lucky 
               dice around my neck while I looked for Nicola to tell her my 
               decision to leave her in Killarney, but as I expected she 
               wasn't in her room. There was  no need to tell her right 
               away because it would take me some time to get enough money 
               to travel all the way to New Ottawa. The job I had with 
               Dempsey wouldn't be enough to get me there. I surmised that 
               I could borrow some money, but I was not sure who to ask.

               When I was back in my room Zinta was on my bed again. I 
               considered what I had done with her the night before was, in 
               a way, homage to my Zinta, but that was all the homage there 
               was to be. 'Power over my life.'

               "Bernard, I came here just to tell you that I was wrong to 
               come here last night. I'm married to Walter and I'm ashamed 
               of what we did."

               "You told me that last night."

               "Yeah...well...last night I wasn't proud too, now I am." She 
               laughed quietly, came over to me as I moved backwards, she 
               took my hand and placed it between her legs. SHe whispered, 
               "We need some fucking."

               She was sickening and I knew I should walk out on her, but 
               right at that moment the echo of her words was finding its 
               way past every staunch concept defending my pride.

               We threw ourselves on the bed, shifting so few of our clothes 
               it would have looked nearly impossible that we were making 
               love; even to Walter if he should have walked in. She was 
               coming as I slipped into her sheath - she seemed to have 
               started the fondling before I arrived inside her. I didn't 
               mind, I could forget about how she was doing and think more 
               about how I was spinning out of control. The sight of her 
               shivering with excitement, had sent my brain into 
               matamorphosis. I found myself thinking of her breasts, her 
               submissive back turned to me, the word fuck. I thrust against 
               her with this bizarre image of her shape never defining itself 
               for me. It might have been human, but it looked like some 
               other animal taken from the wild. My body's shape was changing 
               with Zinta's, it was getting longer and twisted, forming 
               around the canals of ancient genetic constructions. Whether 
               it was adrenaline or hormones that the canals contained, the 
               fluid raced along my arched back, from my face to my heels 
               then back again teling me what to feel and what to see. I 
               saw only beauty and happiness for long enough to bestow a 
               part of me inside this... thing.

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                                                                        59.


               "Aaaaahhhhhhhhhh!" I couldn't help myself, I screamed when I 
               came.

               Zinta thrust her sheath against me and held it until I 
               finished then she pushed herself away from me whispering 
               forcefully, "What the hell are you trying to do to us?"

               I tried to explain while she striaghtened herself quickly 
               then raced out of my room and down the stairs.

               "So much for afterglow," I said to myself while I pulled up 
               my zipper and sat on the edge of my bed.

               'Why the hell did I give in to her? I've got to control 
               myself.

               'Power over my life. Power over my life.'

               I knew it was getting late but I needed to talk to Dempsey. 
               I cleaned myself up before I went downstairs and found Dempsey 
               reading in his room. The first thing he did was apologize 
               for calling me an idiot. "I thought I had a good case to 
               force a little shock treatment onto you", he said.

               I put my original questions on hold to ask him, "Why even 
               bother being a teacher to people like me. I just waste your 
               time."

               "It's never a waste to educate someone," Dempsey said with a 
               smile. "Education broadens the context of a person's life. 
               Or so we're told at teacher's college. More likely it limits 
               the contexts people create for themselves. Education doesn't 
               allow for 'wrongs' it doesn't see 'wrongs' as useful to life. 
               Sometimes being 'wrong' is the best way to deal with a 
               problem. If I had voted against the nuclear weapons today,and 
               some fascist government took power tomorrow and had access 
               to the polling register, and knw who voted for which side in 
               the referendum, I wouldn't get into trouble, would I?"

               "Oh, what am I so worried for? Right?" Dempsey closed his 
               book and paid more attention to me. "Did you have something 
               you wanted to say?"

               "I wanted to ask you to help me again, you know, to solve my 
               problems."

               "This time I won't be so brutal to God. Okay?"

               "That's alright. I clarified to myself what I mean. I really 
               mean a superior power. You know, there are things we don't 
               have any control over. I just mean ... there are things out 
               there in the universe we cannot answer. Right?"

               "Well, that's an idea I can work with," said Dempsey, sitting 
               up straight and inviting me with his hand to sit down. "You 
               have problems you want to solve, am I correct?"

               "Yup."

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                                                                        60.


               "I agree that there are problems that exist that we can't 
               power over. But, understand this, if you have that attitude 
               in relation to your own life you won't solve all your 
               problems. Here's another example of being 'wrong' and it 
               being better for you. Assume from now on that you can answer 
               any question put to you. Then answer any question you have. 
               Dare to be wrong, but answer it no matter what, okay?"

               I agreed and he told me to answer a question which he 
               immediately put to me, "Is life necessary to the universe?"

               He was trying to upset me with that question. I answered 
               quickly to show I wasn't concerned, "No, it's not."

               "Is your life necessary to the rest of life?"

               Now he'd gone too far, but I was still in the game, "No, of 
               course not."

               "To whom does your life matter?"

               "To me, and as many people as I can get to take an interest 
               in me."

               "Why does anyone care if, as you say, you're not necessary?"

               I was getting irritated again, but I answered after only a 
               few seconds of delay, "Well, because I've made them care. Or 
               maybe, I mean I have to include me in the answer. I guess...I 
               care because I don't like pain; pain of any kind, and I don't 
               want to suffer."

               Dempsey leaned back and said, "Try to put the two answers 
               together."

               "I don't know how to."

               "Try."

               I had to answer right or wrong. But I wanted to answer these 
               questions well. I could see that knowing what makes people 
               care about me could help me. Just as knowing why I care about 
               me. It seemed like a simple problem to deal with but I 
               couldn't find a solution that put the two answers together.

               Suddenly I saw that perhaps other people cared about me not 
               because I made them but because they made themselves. Why do 
               men love women that abuse them and vice versa; why do kidnap 
               victims often respect their captors? I saw that something 
               inside of each of us attaches us to other people whether it 
               makes sense or not, like when we become attached to ourselves.

               I said, "Love makes us care. It's inside everybody."

               Without the congratulations I expected he continued, "Husbands 
               kill their wives, people commit suicide all the time. Are 
               you sure that kind of love is in everybody?"

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                                                                        61.


               He could tell I was upset. I saw my own life paralleled in 
               his two exceptions to my answer. Why did my parents kill 
               themselves and why did I kill Sandra-Zinta? What was wrong 
               with me and my parents  on those days? I almost fell into 
               confusions but then I ansered with what first occurred to 
               me. "It doesn't always work."

               Dempsey hesitated while he thought of the nexxt questions. 
               "If everything you answered is true; that life isn't needed 
               and so on, then why does life exist? And what keeps life 
               perpetuating itself?"

               "That's a big thing to answer."

               "I gave you the answer before."

               "All life?"

               "Yes, indeed."

               I looked inside my mind for iamges of life of all kinds; 
               plants, animals - single cell plants, elephants. I considered 
               that other life is too stupid to need a reason. Then I 
               remembered hearing in school that plants can show physical 
               manifestations of stress, at times, by the torture of a 
               neighbouring plants; the loss of leaves or the lowering of 
               the plants resistance to disease. I also remembered that 
               monkeys can sometimes die of a broken heart, just like Perry 
               died because his wife died. Monkeys also murder in the heat 
               of a dispute or just to be cruel. Whales commit suicide.

               I wasn't getting anywhere.

               Why did life exist? Why did rocks exists for that matter? I 
               saw a connection between inanimate 'rocks', acids and the 
               life, and life forms: in the sense that 'rocks' made up life, 
               and that life had as much reason to exist as do 'rocks'.

               I was going in the right direction but I still couldn't answer 
               the first part, why life existed.

               I gave an answer to his questions, "Life exists because of a 
               chance combination of substances like dust or acids. But if 
               you want to know why rocks exist; it's chance again, or in 
               other words because of God - some supreme power. But does it 
               matter? We exist, the universe exists it won't make a 
               difference to solving my problems if I know why. It'sone 
               question that can't be any more important to you than the 
               God question."

               "No - you're right," said Dempsey. "Good for you. You're 
               right. But let me elaborate a bit on thispoint. Our existence 
               and the existence of the whole universe is a fait accompli 
               and it is the sole premise of all reason - of course this 
               premise stems from each of our own experiences - despite the 
               room for doubt in one's own existence - and by the way I 
               want to regress a bit more and say this about the self-
               centered universe; heard of the saying, 'Ithink, therefore I

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                                                                        62.


               am'? Forget it. If Descartes wrote in English he would have 
               needed to say, "I think I exist, therefore I am a thought,' 
               at least to convince me that he knew what he was talking 
               about. But you didn't answer the second part. Why does life 
               perpetuate?"

               "Sex? The Trick?" I asked.

               He laughed and answered for me. "Sex is part of the Trick, 
               if it is just one Trick ... Okay, it is one Trick, one Trick 
               that makes you alive at this moment. I usually call it the 
               meaning of life." He stopped for effect then stood up and 
               yawned, "I'm getting tired. I'll let you go with one more 
               question to answer overnight - what is the one Trick that 
               keeps life perpetuating itself? Don't get hung up on trying 
               to decide what I think. Answer what you think is right. I 
               promise I'll let you be as 'wrong' as you can be and I won't 
               say a thing."

               He said good-night and I went back to my rom to work on the 
               Trick question. I worried myself to sleep thinking that it 
               really could be a Trick question after all.

               When my eyes opened I could see a bright blue atmosphere on 
               the other side of my skylight. When I could focus my eyes on 
               the skylight itself I noticed that it was open. I could smell 
               the breeze flowing in. I wondered who had opened it while I 
               slept, who had been that kind. When I had cleaned and dressed 
               in short sleeves and pants I went downstairs and found Nicola. 
               I told her I was leaving the Church and Killarney to go to 
               New Ottawa as soon as I could afford it. She said she was 
               disappointed but that she hoped it was for the best. I felt 
               upset she didn't ask to go with me or for me to stay with 
               her, but then again it was my choice, it was a case of 'Power 
               over my life'.

               "By the way," I asked Nicola, "Was it you that opened my 
               skylight this morning?"

               "Yeah, I hope you don't mind."

               "Of course I don't, I wanted to thank you."

               I was happy as we went our separate ways for the day. We had 
               begun to respect each other on a different level.

               I found Dempsey dressing in heavy clothes for work. I told 
               him how hot the weather had turned. He wasn't happy to hear 
               it. He rambled on about how the weather should be. That it 
               should be chilly in October like in the old days.

               Then he suddenly asked me if I had an answer to his question, 
               what is the Trick that perpetuates life.I told him I didn't 
               have one and he told me to say anything.

               I told him I was leaving Killarney for New Ottawa as soon as 
               I could and instead of it getting him off the topic, he 
               offered me some money to go. But only if I answered the

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                                                                        63.


               question. I took his offer seriously and worked on the answer 
               as he changed into lighter clothes.

               Trick, I decided was themost important work in his question. 
               People that get tricked by someone else often are naive or 
               stupid, or the people doing the Trick are very good at it. 
               Like Nicola and her other juvenile delinquents in Toronto. 
               They scammed peopleof their money. No one could see them at 
               my wedding as being anything but a reception line, and they 
               got away with enough money to live a month or more.

               What was the Trick? I decided to answer, "The Trick is that 
               life is stupid, all life is, and if it gets too smart then 
               it won't want to be life much longer. It'll want to kill 
               itself."

               "My, my!" Dempsey said sarcastically, "I'm surprised you're 
               not dead already. The way you're talking. Hey, just a second, 
               why aren't you dead already?"

               "Is that a question?"

               "It certainly is."

               I guessed he'd been doing one of his dmeonstrations on me 
               all along. But then something I heard or said earlier popped 
               into my mind. I said, "Because I love things, I love myself, 
               I love people, I love food, I love not needing to struggle 
               all the time, I love sex."

               "A-h. So you've come back to sex. The Trick you could 
               remember."

               "You mean the one Trick, the meaning of life and all that is 
               love?"

               "You love sex, people, food, yourself; what else? This hot 
               weather, I could go on and on. Let's assume, because the 
               list could go on forever, that everything you care for, search 
               for, crave for, is a kind of love. Then how did it happen. 
               How did you obtain this love that keeps you alive from second 
               to second? Why does love triumph?"

               "I learned it?"

               "What do you think... Okay, what was the first decision you 
               ever made in your life? You're alive now so I can see that 
               you made one choice over the other."

               "I don't know ... to breathe?"

               "Yes. It wasn't learned, but you craved it before you did 
               it. The Trick, the inherent meaning of life, is genetic 
               instinct. What our make-up tells us to do, we're not as free-
               willed as people imagine. In our brain, in the interpretive 
               centre, we automatically rationalize everything to give a 
               semblance of reason to the most illogical, absurd aspects of 
               our lives. If you command someone to leave a room via a direct

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                                                                        64.


               connection to the brain they will leave the room. When you 
               ask them verbally why they are leaving the room they will 
               invariably make up a reason even thogh there is none. Like 
               they're thirsty or something. The interpretive centre is 
               part of that Trick. Another is if you spend time with someone, 
               their scent will become addictive to you. I'll go on. Do you 
               know what love is exactly?"

               "Sure, I guess."

               "Love only occurs when a specific chemical is created in the 
               brain. That's all love is. For all it's mystery andmythology 
               love is only another drug. And that's not a metaphor. The 
               interpretive centre in the brain plays a part, so do things 
               still to be discovered inside there." He tapped his head.

               "You're free to make a fuss and say that it's 'wrong'." 
               Dempsey continued, "But do it later, if you need to. Now I 
               want you to look through the eyes of a person about to solve 
               all his problems, armed with the knowledge that no moral 
               teaching is needed, no supreme power is going to stop him 
               through an act of will, and he has nothing to lose."

               I was so shaken by his attempt to empower me that when he 
               walked out of his room and I followed, my shoulder bumped 
               into the door frame and knocked me sideways.

               I felt like a fool and I said, "So, are these eyes I'm 
               supposed to be looking through froma blind man?"

               He laughed at me, then tried to cheer me up with a few 
               explanations and clarifications.

               "By the way, your promise to give me the far to New Ottawa? 
               Do I get the money now or later?" I asked rather greedily.

               Dempsey got serious again and said, "I like those dice you 
               wear around your neck."

               "Thanks."

               "I'll pay for your way up to New Ottawa if you make a bet 
               with me first; with those dice."

               I thought it was a great idea but I stipulated I was going 
               to roll them myself and pick double sixes, and if I won, 
               he'd pay me then. It was just the kind of sure thing I'd 
               always liked. Sandra-Zinta had always planned them to be a 
               sure thing for me. I had been a long time since I'd had the 
               chance to use them and I couldn't wait.

               "Listen," Dempsey said, "if you can roll double sixes twice 
               I'll give you the rest of my severance pay. If you can't I 
               won't give you a cent."

               I unclasped the string holding the dice and slipped them 
               off, then I eagerly nodded yes to his bet. We cleared a coffee 
               table in the living room and I blew on the dice like Sandra-

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                                                                        65.


               Zinta had told me to do. I shook the dice like a real gambler 
               and dropped them carefully on the rock. Of course I won, but 
               Dempsey ahd to take a close look at them before he conceded 
               the roll to me. I quickly rolled again and said, "I win."

               He looked closely at them again and said, "You lose."

               I looked at my dice and all I saw was double sixes, I insisted 
               "I win."

               "You lose. One side has seven dots, the seventh is where you 
               string was threaded through."

               "You've got to be joking?! That's not fair!"

               "I knew I had a two out of three chance of winning this. 
               That's why I made the bet. A negative space dot is still a 
               dot. Sorry but no money. This was just a demonstration of 
               how you can't count on anything."

               I left my mouth open but didn't say anything. I was so 
               disillusioned by the whole thing I almost walked away from 
               my dice. Dempsey picked up my dice, re-threaded them and 
               gave them back to me. I put them around my neck and closed 
               my mouth.

               "That was pretty dirty," I said.

               "You didn't lose anything."

               I knew what he'd taken by his demonstration, he'd taken my 
               hope of finding another Sandra-Zinta, my Zinta, whatever her 
               name was. If I couldn't rely on my dice I had no hope of 
               finding anything I could rely on again.

               I gave up on hope and tagged along with Dempsey as he ehaded 
               for work again. When we crossed paths with Walter, Walter 
               invited me to join him on his daily trip to the Cadet base. 
               It was okay with Depsey. HE said that my first job wouldn't 
               be that day anyway. I was loathe to miss the opportunity to 
               make up for the money Dempsey promised me but I tried to 
               forget it by agreeing to go with Walter. I went with Walter 
               totally ignoring the chance that he had found out about my 
               encounter with Zinta, Walter's wife, and might want to 
               confront me. But with my decision to leave Killarney I decided 
               to except my fate, 'Power over my life.'

               "So how do you feel after that encounter?" Walter asked 
               nonchalantly.

               "What encounter?" I panicked.

               "Your latest encounter with the great Mr.Dempsey."

               "OH!...I don't know - not for sure. He questioned me into a 
               corner. I forget how he did it. But I can't deny the feeling 
               of pointlessness he left in me."

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                                                                        66.


               Walter and I were walking up the hill away from the town 
               centre.

               "He sounds negative, doesn't he?" Walter said, then continued 
               without waiting for my reply, "But he has reason to be - I 
               know his life is no better or worse than the lives we lead - 
               that's not why he's negative. It's just that he's so right 
               that life is pointless, right? I mean, those students that 
               killed themselves - the ones in his classes - they were his 
               smartest students, without exception. They knew what he was 
               talking about. They weren't deprived of wealth, or minds, or 
               love. They had it all. So why did they kill themselves? It 
               was because they were so smart. So don't worry that you didn't 
               understand him in one or two days. These ideas take time."

               I thought his last line to be curious but I had enough things 
               to figure out.

               We walked past the park that looked down over Killarney and 
               the lake, the one that Dempsey and I had our first talk 
               together under the tree. A huge car park lay just down the 
               other side of the hill, where Walter found his Defense 
               department issued vehicle. It was an amphibious six by six 
               with the two centre wheels retractable for road driving. It 
               had been a few years since my Cadet training and I had lost 
               touch with the new behicles and programs. I was eager to see 
               how things had changed. I humped in with Walter, leaving the 
               windows down to take advantage of the hot wind as he 
               accelerated out of the car park and down the highway.

               "You look like a dog, the way you have your nose out the 
               window like that," Walter yelled.

               I laughed, then asked loudly over the rushing wind what he 
               meant by Dempsey's smart students and that it would take 
               time for me to realize what Dempsey is talking about. I said 
               finally, "What are you saying?"

               "I'm saying," he yelled, "that I guess you and I aren't as 
               smart as we thought if we have heard the deadly words of the 
               great one and not done ourselves in yet."

               "Do you think you should?" I replied.

               "I've got a head start on you." Then he said with clarity, 
               "If he is right, I'm going to be brave about it, and do it."

               "I can't believe what you're saying - you're thinking of 
               killing yourself over some things he said."

               "I will be dead at some point. I can't see how anything that 
               I do in my life will improve the quality of my after-life."

               "Didn't Dempsey explain what did matter. Love - love for 
               Zinta, like, for example?"

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                                                                        67.


               "Yeah, he did. I have trouble enough keeping the love I did 
               have for her; love in her case is a wasted effort in the 
               long run."

               I was upset and happy at the same time. I felt free to ask 
               him if he would mind if she dated me. Then I remembered that 
               Walter had the political pull to prevent the police from 
               closing down the Church's drug operations. Zinta wouldn't 
               like it if I broke up their marriage. I did find it 
               distressing how both Walter and Zinta viewed each other.

               I came up with another argument, "Hey, a couple of days ago, 
               when I first met you, I remember that you blamed him for 
               manipulating those students of his to their death."

               "That was before I realized that he was only saying what he 
               thought was true, and it is true. Did he say his 'think I'm 
               a thought' phrase. What is it? I think I'm a thought therefore 
               I am I am?"

               "I think I am, therefore I am a thought," I said.

               "You see, that makes so much sense. In the army these days 
               we have complete simulation machines for combat practice. 
               You hear, see, touch, smell, taste, and fear combat. All in 
               a machine. If that's possible then it's possible that our 
               lives are just as unreal as the ones in our machines. Just 
               more convincing. So why go on?"

               "Look," I said to Walter with growing doubts about the need 
               for my own existence, "Dempsey could be wrong, about all 
               that with pointlessness and 'I'm a thought' business. He 
               even said it's better to solve your problems and be wrong 
               than to be right and have to always be in trouble. He even 
               says he could be wrong."

               "If I am wrong too, killing myself would still solve all my 
               problems."

               I told him, he must have mixed everything up. We drove up to 
               the gate of the Cadet base. Walter was scaring me. He started 
               to make me ask myself why my parents killed themselves. I 
               remembered standing in front of them totally bewildered and 
               ignored. Why did they do it together? Why did she save my 
               life and not her own? I felt so forgotten and abandoned, if 
               it's possible to use these simple words to describe how I 
               felt; to be blinded by a wave of blood and sponge - like 
               bits right in the face, first from my dad's head and then 
               from my mom's.

               I recovered from my mind's depressing abyss to be aware of 
               my

               surroundings. Walter didn't seem to need his pass or explain 
               me to the guards.The guards saw him approach, made usre it 
               was him then waved him througha series of anti-terrorist 
               road barriers and obstacles. When we entered his offices I 
               was astonished at this ease at command, the respect showed

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                                                                        68.


               to him by subordinates, and I couldn't help wondering why he 
               would be suicidal. Given what he said about Dempsey's late 
               students also having everything but still being suicidal, I 
               could rationalize it to some degree. But why in the world 
               was he connected to the Church of God, almost as fraudulent 
               a bunch of scam artists as Nicola's Rubes buddies back in 
               Toronto. Especially when he didn't seem to care one bit for 
               his wife.

               I decided to question one thing. I asked why he hung around 
               at the Church of God.

               "Listen," he said in a quiet conspiratorial way, "I'll tell 
               you if you promise to keep it a secret."

               I promised.

               "I keep tabs on Schubel. Everything he still makes up for 
               his Churchis classified. The Defense Ministry right at second 
               level authorizes it. It's a secret to everyone else. They 
               want to make sure he isn't passing on the formulae of the 
               drugs he makes. So he sells us any new patents that he 
               develops. See, over there."

               He pointed out his window, "That's the pharmo-weapons depot. 
               Things have changed in the pharmo-biz since your Cadet days. 
               The drugs and performance enhancers, like steroids, we 
               prescribe will  make people do almost anything. Fortunately, 
               I have bad reactions to all of them so I've been spared being 
               told to use them."

               I felt bad for Walter and all his problems. I looked at his 
               pimply face and gave up questioning his life further. He 
               then gave me a visitor's pass from his office staff area and 
               told me to feel free to wander the base and discover what I 
               could. He would see me again at thirteen hundred hours.

               I stayed aloof in the mess hall as I drank some tea. I'd 
               been stationed for my month of Cadet training in Labrador 
               and my base was much worse off than the one I was on at that 
               moment. The mess hall in Labrador charged for everything 
               including for extra hot water. This one didn't have a cash 
               register in sight.

               I continued my walk around the base and was suyrprised how 
               little difference there was there from a normal army base. 
               Helicopters, what we called mini-tanks, really small, mobile 
               subs, and surface-to-air missiles were scattered among a 
               group of randomly placed hardened shelters, buried so as to 
               not allow satellie detection of its underground size. I 
               remembered that from my training. Everything seemed to 
               indicate that the Cadets were being taken much more seriously 
               by New Ottawa.

               I met Walter for lunch, at thirteen hudnred hours just as he 
               said. We naturally restricted ourselves to subjects his 
               subordinates wouldn't look on as suicidal. We ate at a table 
               reserved for senior officers. I learned from Walter about

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                                                                        69.


               his military career. It was first class all the way and once 
               again I was left wondering about him: why he would be in 
               charge of a Cadet base and not a regular army base? Everything 
               he did seemed to be below his potential. As we parted again 
               I asked if I could see the combat simulation machin he 
               mentioned earlier; he had no trouble with the idea of letting 
               me go try it.

               With Walter's permission relayed to the personnel operating 
               the machine, I was able to experience a simulation right 
               away. When I arrived in front of the whole thing, I could 
               see what a great cost it must have been to construct. The 
               door to get inside was fifteen metres or more off the ground 
               in order to fit in some mysterious mechanics below. Other 
               mysterious things hung off it looking to me as out of place 
               as acne on a grown man.

               Before I was allowed to try the machine I was equipped with 
               a plastic rifle, standrad armour - which was also plastic 
               and fit well over my arms, legs and head - and finally I was 
               given a few tips on the machine itself.

               I climbed up and someone yelled at me to put my visor down 
               over my eyes. I entered the simulation room which was 
               surrounded by translucent walls and floor, scuffed in places 
               and dotted with panels and tiny door.

               Images began and I was in the mountains, standing still, 
               surrounded by my moving three-dimensional comrades. I was 
               ordered into a log cabin up on a ridge. I was afraid if I 
               walked as far as the ridge appeared to be I would crash into 
               one of the walls in the room. They tol dme before I got inside 
               to follow all orders that are directed to me, so I did. I 
               started to walk up the ridge and the ground seemed to rise, 
               and move under my feet. I tried to protect my nose in case I 
               hit the wall, but I didn't need to. I could feel the machinery 
               below me humming in perfect unison with my steps, the floor 
               was moving with me. Even tilting for the incline.

               On top of the ridge I was joined by two corporals. I could 
               smell cooking inside and one of the corporals mentioned it 
               too. The distortion of the corporals' figures and the lack 
               of focus at times ruined some of the claims Walter made about 
               the simulation machine. But hte smell of cooking, the floor's 
               movements and the game playing atmosphere developing inside 
               me made me suspend my criticisms and get on with the game.

               A cold breeze started to cross my exposed face and the 
               mountain scenery began to look more convincing. One of the 
               corporals told me to check out the rear of the building, 
               which I did. I came upon a boy asking me in English what I 
               was doing there. I told him I was playing a game. He ran 
               inside the cabin saying I was lying. That upset me, then he 
               called for his Daddy. I relaxed and waited for what was going 
               to happen next.

               One of the corporals still in a crouched and defensive posture 
               moved towards me with his back pressed against the cabin

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                                                                        70.


               wall. He waved at me to get under cover. i lowered the heat 
               radiation interface in the visor and ran next to him. I 
               reached out to touch him and all I got was air, I did the 
               same with the cabin wall. The third dimension did seem to 
               lapse at moments but the fact that I was completely surrounded 
               by images of the sky, forest, and crunching dirt or grass 
               under my feet made me forget what kind of world I was in.

               The corporal I crouched with told me, "No one replied to our 
               knocks on the door. I'm afraid this is an enemy house. I 
               want you to take a snipping position farther up the ridge. 
               We're going to try and force them out."

               I ran farther up the ridge, lay down and flipped my sniper 
               sight into position. I watched and listened on my own two-
               way radio as the corporals called for re-enforcements. I set 
               my sights and found it humourous that my sight read that it 
               was focused at two metres. Suddenly I heard running in the 
               forest. I couldn't leave my position as I was covering the 
               two corporals. I tried to keep my eyes in both directions in 
               case I was being out-flanked. Then a rifle shot snapped 
               quietly from the forest. It was for me. I ran to a better 
               position and missed hearing the second rifle snap. I was 
               shot in the back, a horrible pain in my spine told me I was 
               hit, but not if my armour had done its job. I rolled out of 
               fire and felt under the back of my hacket for a wound. I 
               spit out a mouth full of dust and looked up intot he trees 
               for the enemy sniper. The sniper had shot one of the 
               coropralsin the head and I realized when the re-enforcements 
               arrived they could be walking into a trap. My heat radiation 
               interface was not showing which tree the sniper was behind. 
               I guessed its armour was outer-cooled. I ran towards the 
               forest using the larger trees for cover. I wasn't sure where 
               the sniper was but I ran from tree to tree in hopes of 
               flushing it out. I flipped the bayonet to the muzzle, listened 
               for and then heard the sniper's location.I called to the 
               sniper to surrender and she regused. Fearing hteneed to shoot 
               her I did what I should have done sooner, to call the re-
               enforcements and inform them of hte sniper and how to out 
               position her. My breathing was starting to get out of control. 
               I didn't know what to do next. I began to lose my nerve. The 
               commander back down the hill kept on asking for edetails I 
               couldn't provide. I was talking so loud and nervously I didn't 
               hear the sniper moving until the snap of her rifle preceding 
               the pain in my arm told me I was shot. I started to scream 
               in pain, calling for a medic on my radio until I knocked off 
               the armour on my arm and realized the armour was the source 
               of my pain.

               The simulation ended when someone opened the door in the 
               middle of the forest and told me I had nothing to worry about. 
               He took me by the arm and with the ground no longer 
               syncronized with the images on the walls the sniper leaped 
               out of her cover and took two more painful shots at my back. 
               Huge bouts of laughter from the simulator operators echoed 
               with my screams of pain.

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                                                                        71.


               "You gotta love that armour, eh?" someone yelled up at me as 
               I was helped down the stairs. Laughter again when my sweat 
               repelling armour was taken off and I was left in my sweat 
               soaked shirt and pants. They showed how the armour was 
               electrically shocking my nerve endings in concert with the 
               simulator room so that I could feel wounds of a type.

               Once they'd finished with me I hobbled alone ot the mess 
               hall and had a cool drink. I'd never in all my training in 
               the Cadets been so humiliated. It was my fault for 
               underestimating the machine and the typical military sense 
               of humour.

               Depressed for the remainder of the afternoon, I tried to 
               relax and solve all my problems using my own diminishing 
               will to live. With the power of a cooling meatloaf I said to 
               myself one more time, 'Power over my life.'

               When I was dry enough, in some ways I was, I went and checked 
               to see if Walter was ready to go home. I went to his office 
               and asked if he was ready to go. Even though he looked busy 
               he dropped what he was doing, put his arm around my shoulders 
               and said hew as my servant, (in seventy words or less).

               The drive home was filled by Walter's attempts to clarify my 
               impression of Dempsey's ideas. I wasn't listening deliberately 
               but I couldn't help but find his suicide ideas very practical 
               for shutting him up or shutting him out. THen a word crossed 
               his lips that caught my attention. The word was context. It 
               was popping up all the time in my recent past. I asked Walter 
               to repeat what he said.

               "You see," he said, "context is everything and if you don't 
               have a context you're not alive. Are you?"

               "I guess not," I said then thought, 'Contexts again!'

               "You see, when I commit suicide I'll just be getting rid of 
               the life context. Just like ou getting out of that simulator 
               today was like dying out of another world wasn't it?"

               "Yeah. It was. But it wasn't very real."

               "But you eventually became part of that world. Didn't you?"

               "Yeah."

               "The context narrowed for you until it was your world, didn't 
               it?"

               "Yeah," I said, "But I knew I could leave it when I wanted 
               to."

               Walter looked jovial as he said, "You can leave any context 
               your mind perceives for another but only your death - or my 
               death will break the useless, manipulating contexts our minds 
               fall into."

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                                                                        72.


               His happiness depressed me further. It seemed forced into 
               his moment of impending suicides.

               I was scared he was going ot ask me directly if I wanted to 
               commit suicide, so I cut off his rambling ideas by saying I 
               was tired.

               "Hey, I understand. It takes time to decide what to do."

               We arrived back at Killarney. Walter went back to the Church 
               and I went to look for Dempsey. I thought he could do a better 
               hob at clarifying his ideas than Walter was doing. I had to 
               agree that Walter was right about one thing, if I wanted to 
               solve all my problems, killing myself would be the easiest 
               way to do that.

               I looked for a shortcut to the outfitters. I went into a 
               wooded park following the edge of a cliff until I could see 
               the outfitters' cabins down below. I climbed down the cliff 
               and when I was close enough I called out to dempsey. He walked 
               out happy to see me and started to tell me that I had some 
               work, a day hike with a family from New Ottawa. The news 
               cheered me up enough to hesitate bringing up what I wanted 
               to say.

               "Sir," I said in an attempt to suck up to him, "I think you've 
               laid out the groundwork enough for your ideas. Let's start 
               with some specific ways I can solve all my problems."

               "All right, I'll close shop and I'll be out in a minute."

               I waited on top of the boulder, the one I chilled on the day 
               before, admiring the hot sun and the dark blue lake.

               Dempsey called to me and in a few seconds we were on our 
               way.

               "The first thing I want to tell you is the reason I prepared 
               you. I wanted you to realize that nothing is in your way to 
               solve your problems except your state of mind. To solve your 
               problems you could decide to live naked in the woods, or to 
               be just one of the crowd. Your problems can be satisfied 
               only when you decide. And don't forget that! You decide when 
               you're satisfied. No one else.

               "Okay, I'm going to lay it all out for you step by step. 
               First, remember morality, ethics and the like don't exist 
               outside of our heads. They are totally artificial and 
               politically motivated so toss them away from your mind. Then 
               you will be free to see the solution you will need to solve 
               your problems; whatever they may be.

               "Second, be aware of the tricks that your instincts play on 
               you at all times. Just doing that will prevent many problems 
               from arising.

               "Third, do what you want, but take your time to find out 
               what it is that you want. Then keep your threshold of

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                                                                        73.


               satisfaction or perfection low and you will have fewer 
               problems.

               "Fourth, if you're looking for truth, just remember that the 
               truth is only what remains true while you observe it. It 
               could change when you're not watching it or be different to 
               another observer.

               "Fifth -"

               I wasn't remembering anything he said. I had cut him off by 
               covering his mouth with my hand as we walked. I took my hand 
               away and apologized before explaining, "There's too much to 
               learn and I don't relate to your ideas. Isn't there another 
               way to do this?"

               "All right," Dempsey said, "IF you want a specific solution 
               for a specific problem, so you can relate to it, you would 
               need to invite me into your mind. Let me know every problem 
               and idea you have and let me explain it to you. I promise 
               not to make your decisions for you, in fact, I refuse to 
               make your decisions. You ask a question and I'll give you 
               the answers or the options depending on what it is that you 
               ask."

               "That sounds good. Can you keep it private? Like a shrink?"

               "You bet. Where shall we start?"

               "Well," I said nervously, "The most pressing problem is... 
               I'm thinking of taking a short cut to solve my problems. I'm 
               thinking very logically that perhaps I would be better off 
               not living."

               "Oh my God!" Dempsey grabbed his face then tried to regain 
               some composure.

               "I thought you wouldn't tell me what to do," I said.

               "I'm not!" he said pausing to take a breath, "I...I'm only 
               realizing how serious this is. I want you to use me as a 
               resource anytime you want day or night. Ask your questions 
               as they pop into your head. And I'll try to put them into 
               context, your context, so you can relate to them."

               We were getting close to the Church and Dempsey pulled me 
               into another direction towards the park with the oak tree. 
               "Make a question out of your pressing problem and we'll see 
               what I can do."

               "Should I kill myself?" I said.

               "You had to make it hard to answer didn't you - never mind. 
               I will be as logical and detached now as I have been 'wrong' 
               in my life.

               "Okay - I assume waht I've been saying has made you think 
               about suicide?

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                                                                        74.


               Don't answer that - Yes, commit suicide if you want, let me 
               get that right out before you think I'm going to try to 
               convince you not to do it. It does make sense. Everybody on 
               earth should do it - including me. For the rest of my life 
               I'm going to wonder how I'm going to finally die. I wonder, 
               will I get some disease? Will I die in the battlefield? Why 
               not choose a painless way to die when I'm ready to go, not 
               when someone or something else is ready to kill me. So why 
               don't I?"

               "Yeah, why?"

               "I'm scared I really am wrong," he said with a laugh at the 
               end. "One of the tricks to keep me alive is still in fine 
               working order. Matter of fact all the tricks, all the love 
               built into my mind at conception is in fine working order. 
               Reflex, instinct, I'm as dumb as an animal. I know, in the 
               way I know I exist, I know that my life is in vain. That my 
               seed is in vain. That all activities are in vain. But I can't 
               override my programming, to use a modern cop-out. Even my 
               attempts to teach this to people is vain. The existence of 
               life, the torture of life, cannot be changed by one person's 
               knowledge being convincingly spread across the universe. The 
               people who can't understand this knowledge will be the new 
               standard bearers of the next stage in evolution, the 
               functioning idiot. So if what I'm doing is trying to be the 
               prophet that makes people and even all life aware of its 
               vanity, its because vanity makes me do it." Dempsey was about 
               to continue then changed his mind. We had reached the top of 
               the cobblestone hill.

               Once again we sat together on the creaking park bench under 
               the giant oak tree, while overlooking the town andt he sun 
               low over Georgian Bay. I gave myself a chance to let what 
               Dempsey said soak in then I asked him to continue.

               "Well, I think I should admit that I vainly want to stop you 
               from killing yourself."

               "Why is it vain? Because you think I'm going to do it despite 
               what you might say to stop me?"

               "No, I just know you would be right to do it, despite my 
               guilt for convincing you it was right."

               "That's all you're going to say?" I said standing up on the 
               grass to look at him in the eyes, "What if I was just looking 
               for someon to ask me not to do it?" Dempsey looked at my 
               shoulders as I spoke, "I might not even consider it further. 
               Are you going to ask me not to?"

               "All my life," Dempsey argued, "I've tried to override all 
               the tricks that cloud my thinking...Most of the time I 
               succeed. I try to be as consistent as the truth is... Here I 
               am faced with another student considering suicide. I feel 
               terrible and I'd say it wasn't a good idea, if I thought it 
               wasn't. You see, life is a context. A prison that we escape 
               only when every trick fails. Imagine what you were before

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                                                                        75.


               you were born and that's where we will all go someday. If I 
               could just go to sleep and go back there I would. The tricks 
               are the prison. Life is just a death sentence. But...."

               "Don't go on..." I said.

               "I'm a coward," Dempsey said, against my wishes, "Both to 
               violate a vain principal and to fulfill the vain principal 
               that life is not worth living."

               "You were supposed to help me!" I said weakly. I walked away 
               with Dempsey faintly vocalizing a general apology.

               I let gravity on the cobblestone hill drag me to the Church. 
               I found my room, a place on the bed sheets and a way to forget 
               my body's existence as I discovered a new way to look at 
               'Power over my life.'

               'I'm not ready to die! I want Zinta! I want Nicola! I want 
               to go to New Ottawa. There are things I live for. The real 
               problems I wanted to solve aren't that bad. I can tackle my 
               problems without resorting to suicide. I don't need to have 
               good reasons to stay alive. I don't need reasons. I don't 
               even watn reasons! All I need to do is remember what I 
               believed before Dempsey poisoned me. And what I believed 
               before Zinta wanted to leave me for New Ottawa. What...was... 
               it...I thought beofre Dempsey poisoned me? God, yes. Food, 
               maybe. Sex, love, friends and all that stuff. Okay, well, 
               God doesn't do much and I don't know what I can do for God - 
               so - forget God. But friends on the other hand, if I could 
               have a few good ones I would be set. And Canada, I love this 
               country, I could do something that proves I love this country, 
               even if the Red and Whites do run this country..." I quickly 
               ran out of things that give purpose to my life, then 
               mercifully, sleep gave me the chance to give a whole new day 
               a try.

               I called a rickshaw driver over to my table, paid the bill 
               for my dinner, then jumped on the rickshaw and asked the 
               driver to take me to the Nationa Gallery. She pulled me past 
               the cyclists and jay walkers, driving upside down ont he 
               street's atrium glass. I was glad to have a driver capable 
               of driving upside down without dropping me.

               At the gallery I paid my fare and fell out of my seat to the 
               street. I forgot to cover my head before I hit the ground, I 
               hurt it. A swarm of skinny children attacked me and hung off 
               my belt until they looked like a grass skirt. The door person 
               suggested I exchange my skirt for a phallus belt they rented 
               to visitors of the gallery to increase the visitors 
               appreciation of the paintings and sculpture. I declined the 
               offer and proceeded into the pool area for some nude bathing. 
               I took off my skirt and all my other clothes then jumped in 
               the water. It wasn't long that I needed to wait before a 
               woman swam up to me and while fondling my penis she started 
               to converse in French. I suddenly knew French perfectly and 
               was able to make her laugh at all my witty jokes. It was too

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                                                                        76.


               bad I didn't know what I was saying. 'What am I saying to 
               her? I can't speak French!'

               I tore away the fantasy of my dream but I was still being 
               fondled. I lifted my head off the pillow and looked over my 
               clothed chest to see Zinta's cold hands playing with my 
               augmented organs.

               "Bernard?" Zinta whispered, "I just want us to be good to 
               each other okay?"

               I was so happy that some of my dream was true I decided not 
               to blurt a sound as I took off the remainder of my clothes 
               for her. I was surprised to find I wasn't wearing the phallus 
               after all. Zinta took her hands away from me to quietly remove 
               her shirt, bra and shorts. When I was naked I went towards 
               her and with one finger I drew an imaginary road across her 
               body starting at her left nipple, across both breasts, making 
               a small circle around her right nipple before continuing 
               down her tight ribs. I made a stop in her shallow belly button 
               then found my way down to the gate between two worlds. I 
               didn't stop to look where I was going, but I knew this wet 
               warm feeling on my finger was the love I lost at birth.

               VIII

               Zinta feigned shock then embarrassment and said, "Do you 
               know you've slipped your finger into my favourite private 
               part?"

               "Yes," I said, able to smell the cinnamon aroma from her 
               sheath. I smiled in the darkness.

               "Well, do you mind... moving it a little faster?"

               I kissed her lips at my own slow pace and she learned how to 
               slow down in time to enjoy it. My finger and my tongue moved 
               in concert. She and I then lay down on the bed and slipped 
               our bodies into each other as haroniously as a cylinder of 
               sunlight can find its way through a dark sky.

               When we were done, we held each other like there was no one 
               else to care about. I was surprised and happy that nothing 
               had gone wrong on our third attempt. She seemed to feel the 
               same way. When she said it was time for her to return to 
               Walter, I was jealous, but I remembered that they didn't 
               love each other and that made me feel better. We kissed and 
               she gave me a strong hug then turned to leave.

               "Tomorrow night," Zinta whispered before she disappeared.

               I lay back down on my bed and looked up through the skylight 
               to all the stars that drifted into my little context of the 
               universe. I had found the argument to upset Walter's and 
               Dempsey's suicide counselling - Zinta. I fell asleep again 
               eager to face my two advisors with my new confidence; and to 
               make Dempsey cough up the money he promised to give me to 
               get to New Ottawa.

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                                                                        77.


               'Oh no,' I said to myself, 'I don't want to leave Zinta. 
               Maybe I can get her to come with me.' I worked on the idea 
               until I fell asleep.

               I was woken up early in the morning. I could feel the heat 
               pour in from outside. Nicola had come in to open the skylight 
               once again and this time woke me, on Dempsey's request, so I 
               could get to work on time. i hid my naked body under the 
               covers while we chatted for a minute about the Church and 
               how peaceful the place was compared to Toronto. I held back 
               telling her that I was on the verge of committing suicide 
               only the day before. Instead I broke the news that I was 
               leaving for New Ottawa as soon as I had the money. I took my 
               lucky sixes from around my neck and handed them to Nicola.

               "They don't work anymore, Nicola. I can't count on them. 
               Maybe you'll find that they bring luck. They never worked 
               for me. Maybe they'll remind you to keep in touch with me - 
               I'll be lucky if they do work that way."

               She thanked me and kissed me for them. She looked sad at the 
               news that I was leaving but offered me whatever help she 
               could give. I told her I didn't want Bill's care. But she 
               said I could change my mind anytime. I continued to feel the 
               need for her to be with me but I stopped myself from asking 
               her to follow me again. She had found her place and I wished 
               her the best.

               Nicola left my room and I got myself ready for my first work 
               day. I wasn't surprised that I couldn't find good hiking 
               clothes. I dressed in what I could find then went downstairs 
               to the kitchen. It was packed with peopleincluding Zinta and 
               Walter. I tried not to look meaningfully at Zinta while Walter 
               was there. Walter ended up coming to me for a chat.

               In the middle of a comment about the weather, Walter suddenly 
               asked me, "Do you like cinnamon?"

               My mouth fell open, luckily I had some toast to fill it. I 
               munched and said "What do you mean?"

               "On your toast."

               "Oh! I don't think so, I've never tried it though."

               "It's good, you know," he said, smiling meaningfully. Then 
               he took a shattering bite of his toast so that a little cloud 
               of cinnamon rose into the air, tickling my nose to the verge 
               of a sneeze.

               "Must get back to Zinta," Walter stated then walked away.

               With Walter's back turned to me I gave Zinta an open-eyed, 
               scared look to tell her he was on to us. She couldn't react 
               while Walter approached her. I wasn't sure if she understood 
               me.

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                                                                        78.


               I wondered what was going to happen next. I was almost 
               disappointed he only found out about Zinta and myself that 
               morning, because then I could dismiss what he said to me the 
               day before as some kind of  revenge.

               I left the Church for the outfitters by myself as soon as I 
               finished breakfast. I wasn't going to wait for Walter to 
               challenge me again. I arrived at work and found Dempsey, the 
               boss and a few others rearranging some hiking equipment. 
               Dempsey rushed towards me. I assumed he did that so he could 
               say a word to me privately. He greeted me warmly and asked, 
               "Feeling better?"

               "Yeah, I guess so. Why don't you ever consider suicide if 
               you're such a believer?"

               "I already told you; it's because I could be wrong. But 
               another reason is that I enjoy my life. Try enjoying your 
               life and you can hold off your suicide or death for a long 
               time."

               Dempsey winked at me then brought me to be introduced to the 
               guide and the tourists. I was told which backpack would be 
               mine to carry and as I expected it was the biggest, probably 
               the heaviest too. We started north on one of hundreds of 
               trails in the area that are centred on Killarney, I was told 
               along with the tourists. I waved goodbye to dempsey and the 
               boss as the guide commented on teh terrain, the history of 
               the area, and the lack of flies and other bugs. The tourists, 
               a family from New Ottawa, were so impressed that they didn't 
               need to wear mosquito hats or repellents.

               I assumed from their talk that the New Ottawa countryside 
               was so filled with bugs that a hike in the woods was more 
               likely than not to end up with the smallest children being 
               bled dry by the bugs. The story made me think twice about 
               going to New Ottawa. I asked one of the children why they 
               live there. A parent said it wasn't bad at all in the city 
               centre because of the street atriums and bug traps that 
               surrounded the city. The guide added some trivia about how 
               the bugs from the traps end up being used on the fish farms 
               in James Bay.

               The terrain was hilly and rocky with many high peaks to climb. 
               The raging heat caused me to lag behind but I tried my best 
               to catch up to the worn out little kids.

               I made lunch with a bonus of a few itps form the guide to 
               increase my work load. I considered trying to make friends 
               with the family to see if I could get a ride with them when 
               they returned to New Ottawa, but I quickly had those hopes 
               squashed when the family talked about the flight home. Then 
               I remembered that Nicola still had the late Bill's care hidden 
               somewhere in the area. But that was too risky since I was a 
               lousy driver.

               The rest of the afternoon was tiring and boring since I was 
               shouldered out of every chance to converse with the family.or

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                                                                        79.


               the guide. With the imminent exposing of my affair with Zinta 
               I tried to find new reasons not to kill myself, '...It'll 
               come to you ...soon.'

               By the end of the afternoon, due to the perceived lack of 
               weight in my pack, (once the lunch was taken out of it) I 
               was saddled with all the things no one else wanted to carry. 
               I had the emergency gear, plus three of the kids' knapsacks, 
               six litres of water, an axe considered esssential by the 
               father, pretty stones that the kids liked and a four foot 
               long dead tree trunk that the mother thought she could turn 
               into a night table.

               When we arrived back at the outfitters I was thanked by 
               everyone. As the guyide helped me get the pack off my back I 
               almost sprang off the ground. Dempsey had gone home already 
               so when I was paid in cash by the boss I went to look for 
               him.

               With the burden of my job finished for the day, I walked 
               home to the Church reflective of the landscapes I had seen 
               that day; the white rock hills and the sparse evergreens 
               crowning them. I also recalled the funny things that the 
               kids had said and done; I was too self-absorbed at the time 
               to find them humourous, but when the day was over I laughed 
               at them all.

               I crossed paths with walter n the west side of Killarney. I 
               looked for a way to avoid him but he saw me.

               "Bernard! How are you doing?" Walter said benignly. "I wanted 
               to apologize for acting like the suspicious husband in the 
               kitchen this morning."

               "Really, I didn't notice."

               "Yes, I had no cause to be like that."

               That was a relief to hear - he didn't know then. I said, 
               "You mean Zinta and me? That's funny."

               "Yes."

               "I wouldn't do that to you and her."

               "Do what exactly?"

               "You know," I said nervously.

               "You mean touch each other behind my back."

               "Yeah, I guess that's what I mean."

               "Or don't you mean," he said looking at me in the eyes with 
               a horrific intensity, "Youdon't fuck and tell-"

               I had to stop my mouth from twitching. I stepped away from 
               him and set my mind up to be prepared for an attack.

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                                                                        80.


               "Hey, don't start thinking I'm going to defend my honour or 
               anything like that. I don't have any casue to be suspicious 
               of you. I know everything, everything there is to know. And 
               I'm not jealous either, you can fuck her all you want. I 
               gave her up a long time ago. I'm on a new path in my life. I 
               don't need her anymore.

               "But I'm really pissed for the deception you practised with 
               me yesterday. You acted like my confidant. I told you my 
               most private things about what I think, and I offered to 
               help you find answers to your most important questions. I 
               trusted you. I'm not sure I can do that for you again. I'm 
               on a road to discover what is best for me. Just the kind of 
               quest you're on. We were going to do it together. Now I don't 
               know if I can trust you. That was an awful thing for you to 
               do. What kind of monster are you anyway? You kill your 
               girlfriend and two other people then you come here and seduce 
               my wife, then lie to me - where is this leading?"

               "I'm sorry, about all this. It just happened that way."

               Walter used up his anger and started to walk away from me. I 
               was going to let him go but then I felt my guilt tell me to 
               try and make him feel better.

               "I'm sorry, I really am, I still need your help and I wouldn't 
               want this whole hting to stop that. Zinta was a mistake, I 
               know she can't offer what I'm looking for. She's too mixed 
               up herself. I don't know..." I continued, "Maybe I just needed 
               to know what alternative I had to killing myself."

               "Yeah," Walter said, "That's what she was to  me for a time. 
               So was religion and I guess at one time so was the Church of 
               God.n But that's all past now. Only one thing will satisfy 
               me. To be rid of my problems once and for all. What do you 
               say, Bernard? Are you ready to go too?"

               It was the question I didn't want him to ask me. I said, 
               "Hey, I can't decide that kind of question now. I would need 
               a lot of time to think about it." I felt cornered with two 
               possible escapes left to me, Zinta and New Ottawa.

               Walter perked up suddenly and started to hammer his points 
               again, "If we need to face our own death at some point why 
               wait nay longer let's do it before something else makes us 
               face it?"

               "I have to think about it."

               "I know you're smart enough to see it makes more sense to do 
               it."

               "This is th eonly life I get. If we're wrong and life does 
               have a point then I don't get another chance."

               "Do you need to go over the whole thing again. There is no 
               room for doubt."

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                                                                        81.


               "Dempsey has room for doubt."

               "He's a coward, that's all. I know you're not."

               "How do you know I'm not?" I said challenging him.

               Walter hesitated then answered, "I read your Cadet record. 
               You would risk your life during training. For what no one 
               knew. It said your nickname was 'Balls'."

               "Please don't call me that. It's disgusting."

               "See you were never a coward before. Don't you have your 
               pride any more?"

               "Of course I do."

               "Well, I'm ready to die. I'm not going to chicken out. 
               Tomorrow night I'm going to bring home a handgun from the 
               base and I'm going to do it. You can decide then."

               He slapped my shoulder and went into a variety store 
               repeating, "You decide by tomorrow."

               I took my time to begin the walk home. I walked slowly and 
               deliberately. I was scared. It was an option to me for years 
               to follow my parents' example, but resentment for what they 
               did had stopped me from considering it seriously. I went 
               looking for Zinta with hollow enthusiasm for our affair. I 
               needed some kind of reassurance from her. I found her in the 
               CHurc, along in the living room adn I asked her to follow me 
               to a more secluded place.

               She whispered to me, "I can't see you anymore."

               "Walter already knows," I said.

               "He does? Oh my God!"

               "He doesn't care."

               "He doesn't? Why?"

               "I succeeded in moving our conversation into my room where I 
               explained Walter's intentions to kill himself without hinting 
               at what mine could be.

               Zinta didn't ;hold me, touch me, or say that she was happy 
               that she was free to have a normal relationship with me. She 
               didn't even care for Walter now that he was about to kill 
               himself.

               "Shit, who's going to stop the cops from raiding us now," 
               said Zitna or Walter's wife or whatever. I didn't want to 
               call her Zinta anymore. She was the worst thing for me. 
               Nothing like my Zinta.

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                                                                        82.


               She - it - Walter's wife continued on, "I've got to tlak to 
               Schubel before it's too late - hey!" She stopped herself 
               from leaving, "What am I worried about, he must be joking 
               with you. He doesn't have the courage to go through with it. 
               Do you know why he's only heading a Cader base and he's not 
               in the regular army? Do you?"

               "No."

               "They demoted him for cowardice. He has an aversion to blood. 
               He was a colonel in a military mission to the Navajo Republic. 
               He was there supposedly helping the governemnt fight an 
               insurrection. They tossed him out of the country when he 
               passed out during some battle. When he saw some blood on the 
               walls of some Hopi house he fell on his face. He hates to 
               see blood. I even wash his cuts and bandage them so he doesn't 
               need to look at them. He must be pulling your string.

               "Let's forget him. If he knows and he doesn't care about us 
               then lets do it now. Come on. Let's go to bed," she said 
               while tugging loose my belt. I was reluctant to make love 
               with her at first then I let her have her way while I used 
               the time to decide what to do next.

               She was less than pleased with me when it was over. She made 
               some excuses for me then left. I dressed myself lethargically 
               and went to look for Dempsey. I couldn't find him. I waited 
               in the living room for Walter or Dempsey to come hom so I 
               could straighten out what Walter's wife had said. I waited 
               for more than an hour, as several people came and went, some 
               trying to strike up a conversation with me, but when failing, 
               moving on to the kitchen to find a more relaxed atmosphere.

               I eventually gave up waiting, grabbed something to eat from 
               the ktichen, then put a crystal pamphlet in my pocket and 
               went for a walk.

               'Damn, that.. Walter's wife. She didn't even care about me. 
               And after all that time she spent with Walter she wasn't 
               even concerned for him. Dempsey - what good is his concern. 
               It's his fault I'm even thinking about killing myself. He 
               can't even argue against me doing it - enjoy your life and 
               everything will be fine. What a crock of - enjoy your life 
               and you can put off your suicide or death. What the hell 
               does that mean? What does that encourage me to do? To want 
               peace? To put off my death? Forget it Demspey! Forget it.'

               I broke into a run. The soles of my sheos were feverishly 
               abusing the passing the cobblestones as I ran the narrow, 
               dark street almost blind and groping with my hands to ward 
               off, what seemed to me, passing trains on both sides of my 
               head.

               The hill I ran up tired me to thepoint where I had to walk 
               to get to the top. I sat cataching my breath under the old 
               oak tree and stared wide-eyed at the simmering night.

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                                                                        83.


               'Tomorrow I might be dead - tomorrow I might kill myself - 
               it doesn't matter if Walter is too chicken I've got to do 
               something that I decide to do. If it's right I'll do it... 
               Bernard - do it if it's the best idea - do it because ... 
               it's going to finish off all those problems. No more 
               disappointments, no more let downs, no more expectations to 
               be destroyed. Why was I born? I wasn't asked - some democracy 
               we live in - why? Why is anybody born?'

               I had a flash back to words and images I'd experienced sharply 
               within the vagueness of my early life:

               '-Moma, where do babies come from?

               THEY COME FROM INSIDE TUMMIES.

               WHY?

               -When a man and woman want to have children they plant a 
               seed in there.

               -Why?

               -They love children and want to make their own.

               -Why?

               -So they can bring them into the world and love them.

               -Why?

               -So the baby can have a good life and know all the good things 
               that the world has to give them.

               -But why?

               -Because we would all be lonely without more kids. Okay with 
               you?'

               All the reasoning I had ever heard or considered for the 
               persistence of life on earth was just shallow, faulty, head 
               in the sand crap. My life, I considered, was too shallow to 
               persist much longer. Something had to be done and soon. "Life 
               is a death sentence," I said out loud.

               'Walter can faint when he sees my blood spattering his gun 
               for all I care. I'll do it alone if necessary.'

               I went to lookin the car park for Walter's six by six. When 
               I couldn't find it I decided to return to the Church and let 
               Dempsey get all concerned about my suicide.

               Once again I couldn't find him. Next I looked for Nicola. I 
               was surprised Schubel didn't know where she was. I didn't 
               bother looking for Zinta, in fact I hoped I was so 
               disappointing to her that I wouldn't get another visit from 
               her that night.

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                                                                        84.


               I went to bed early, for the second night running, but I 
               couldn't sleep. My mind drifted to the time before I killed 
               my Zinta. I tried to feel the way I felt back then. Satisfied, 
               untroubled, oblivious. Whether I was a burden to my Zinta 
               for all those years was not my concern at the time. If I 
               could climb back to a situation like that again and could 
               war doff the kind of dissatisfactions that developed in Zinta, 
               I couldn't see how I would be able to remain oblivious to 
               the rest of the world. I would always worry if I was good 
               enough, or if there was someone else she was intered in, or 
               if she would rather be somewhere else, like New Ottawa. A 
               catch 22 would always be there.

               My thoughts drifted even farther bak to the day my aprents 
               left. 'I remember ... Dad, scratching his crotch before he 
               picked up that stupid gun, then Mom loading the gun... What 
               could they have been thinking. I was playing with the bullets - 
               the bullets! I raced them on the carpet - the one that Dad 
               crossed on the tip with his knife - that was the bullet that 
               won the race to the wall. "Give me the bullet, Bernard. Come 
               on, the one I crossed. Come on!"Why? Why didn't they take me 
               with them. They had no problem dragging me from nowhere into 
               this world. Then when they try to escape to some kind of 
               oblivion - why did they leave me behind?'

               For the first time in my life I realized that I had seen the 
               shock wave coming from the gun as it exploded in front of my 
               Dad's face. A distortion I perceived at the time, but only 
               at this moment, before I was about to kill myself, could I 
               understand what  it was I saw. It looked invisible at first, 
               then it took the sahpe of a giant man rising out of the top 
               of my Dad's head. Then with a smile and a wink to me the 
               giant plunged his hand into my Dad's open skull to smooth 
               out the lumps between his fingers.

               "Bernard, wake up. Wake up! Mr. Dempsey says you have another 
               job. Come on, wake up!"

               Nicola caressed my cheek. I opened my right eye to see if I 
               was right that it was Nicola and whether I knew her touch or 
               not.

               "Bernard, are you awake?" Nicola said.

               "Yeah."

               "It's seven o'clock now. You have a job today. Mr. Dempsey 
               says you'll be gone for at least two days, so get enough 
               stuff. Your boss only fopund out about this job last night - 
               Mr. Dempsey told me, He also said your pay will be doublt-
               time for this job. Pretty good eh?"

               "Yeah, great, thanks a lot. Do you know where Walter is?"

               "I haven't seen him this morning. And I didn't see him last 
               night either."

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                                                                        85.


               I considered telling Nicola to tell Dempsey I didn't want to 
               work. Then Nicola fave me a good morning hug and went 
               downstairs. I decided I could put off my suicide until I 
               finished this last job.

               I noticed the skylight was closed. I stood on a bench to 
               open it and held my hand outside to guage the temperature. 
               Another sunny hot day.

               I dressed in the same clothes I worked in the day before, 
               ate and readied myself before I hurried to the outfitters.

               I arrived at the outfitters tired out in front of a middle 
               age man sitting on a bicycle eagerly encouraging me to get a 
               move on. The guide and Dempsey told me which bike was mine 
               and they adjusted it for me. I put the personal things I 
               brought into the side saddles of the front carrying supports. 
               The back rack was a huge mound of things. I didn't think I 
               could keep my balance, but my test ride went okay.

               The middle aged man was introduced as being a Sam from 
               somewhere farther north. I wasn't experienced in the type of 
               work I was suddenly engaged in, but I suspected that a Sam 
               from up north wouldn't pay us twice our normal rate, at short 
               notice unless he was a fairly special type of Sam from up 
               north.

               I was able to whisper to Dempsey, "Who is this guy?"

               "Sam's the Minister of Defense. Haven't you ever seen him on 
               TV?"

               "No," I said, then I was told by the guide to follow him at 
               twenty or more metres behind. Sam, was free to do what he 
               wanted.

               Dempsey winked at me and said as I pushed off to follow the 
               departing guide, "Have a good time out there. I'll see you 
               in a couple of days."

               I rolled my eyes in reply and was off.

               I felt awkward and slow at first but I became used to the 
               pace the guide was setting. We were following raised gravel 
               paths out of the town until we reached an intersecting path 
               paved with black asphalt and we turned north. The bike route 
               dove into a heavily forested section snaking between the 
               hills. Often short bridges or ramparts got us over little 
               valleys while blasted trenches through the white rock hills 
               made easier work of the inclines. The path was like a freeway 
               for bicycles.

               After an hour on the freeway the terrain leveled and the 
               asphalt came to a sudden end. I followed the guide and Sam 
               as they turned off the main path westward onto a woodchip 
               path that was much softer and made my job much harder oging. 
               The bridges continued to be placed over the difficult sections 
               but the hills became so steep all three of us needed to get

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                                                                        86.


               off our bikes to climb over them. I was continually removed 
               bits ofmy excessive clothing until I was left with no shirt 
               on my back. At one incline, while I was thinking about the 
               fact that i had some crystal drug pamphlets in my back pocket, 
               Sam told me that I should worry about exposing my back to 
               too much ultraviolet. I put my T-shirt back on when the guide 
               signaled for me do to so.

               As I peddled and sweat behind the other two I reached into 
               my pocket and tasted the inside of one of the crystal 
               pamphlets, then put it back in my pocket.

               Sam suggested that we take a break for my sake and the guide 
               told me to hold on for a few minutes. When we did stop for 
               the break I realized why the guide had wanted to get there. 
               The location was beside a little lake with facilities for 
               overnight cyclists. I got off the bike next to the fresh 
               lake side, put down the kick stand and dived on a sandy patch 
               of grass. The bike stand sank into the ground and the bike 
               soon collapsed next to me with my blessing.

               Sam let his bike fall too then he walked over to me followed 
               by the guide.

               "Great adventure," Sam said, "Love this country. So bug free. 
               Ever been to James Bay or Hudson Bay, Mr. Bernard?"

               "No I wanted to go there once."

               "Shame, you know. Winter was once a great season for that 
               area, New Ottawa region, you know - and October was once a 
               wintery time up there. Now October is the end of the bug 
               season. I don't know if it's because of the bugs but I haven't 
               seen a polar bear in New Ottawa since it was founded."

               "Very interesting," I claimed.

               "Youknow, I don't think it's fair that you have to carry 
               more than your fair share, Mr. Bernard. I think I should try 
               and lighten your load a bit."

               "I would appreciate that, thanks," I said genuinely.

               "It's his job to carry all that stuff," the guide said. 
               "You're on holidays."

               "I came on this trip for a little alternative stress. I think 
               I know what I need," Sam told the guide.

               "Okay, I'll do the arranging," the guide said, then set to 
               work on it.

               Sam leaned towards me and without looking atme whipsered out 
               the side of his mouth, "What an ass-kisser that one is."

               I shrugged.

               "I guess you know who I am?" Sam asked.

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                                                                        87.


               "Yeah, I was told by Mr. Dempsey."

               "You know I'll give that guide of yoursone day before he 
               asks for some kind of favour. Ah. Politics stinks. I can 
               tell you don't give a crap who I am, right?"

               I shrugged again. I felt good that my knowledge that I was 
               about to kill myself had given me the right attitude in his 
               presence.

               'Life is just a death sentence.'

               "Favours, favours," Sam continud. "The only good thing about 
               not being the party in power is that you can't do many 
               favours, so you don't get asked."

               The guide came back and offered us granola snacks. Sam, 
               ignoring the guide, suddenly suggested we swim, which we 
               did, in a lake that was as cold as a star from Rudolph 
               Valentino's skeleton. As I dried off, I felt great, but I 
               realized while we were munching on the granola sticks, that 
               the crystal drug had not affected me and I promised myself 
               to try a larger dose the next time.

               When we were ready to continue I put my sore bum down on the 
               seat and followed the other two as we continued westward.

               After passing four north bound paths we turned righton the 
               fifth and started north. We passed a group of cyclists heading 
               south and exchanged information about the paths ahead of 
               each of us. They said a bridge was out several kilometres 
               from where we were. I looked at their dirty and wet clothes 
               as they told us how to cross the river.

               The guide said we would avoid that problem and double back 
               with this other group then use an alternative route. I decided 
               to let this trip just happen the way it should and I followed 
               the meanderings to wherever they happened to take me.

               Sam, the guide and I stopped with this other group for lunch 
               next to a metre wide, five metre tall waterfall. While the 
               rest visually chased a yellow bird as it took sips from the 
               top of the falls, I made lunch for everybody. We all chatted 
               and rested for about an hour then the two parties went in 
               our different directions when the guide decided it was time 
               to leave. Our guide set the pace and gave Sam and I the time-
               table for our next two days in order for Sam to understand 
               the pace that was being set for us.

               Sam was in good spirits most of the time and rode next to me 
               to talk about fishing, dieting and the House of Commons. For 
               some reason I told him I had worked for the Post Office, 
               which he found interesting but didn't immediately explain 
               why he did.

               He kept on asking about my private life, "I was married, 
               yeah," was one answer I gave and I needed to be careful

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        88.


               because I mixed up all different parts of my life together 
               so that I could look normal to him.

               We struggled for the rest of the day to get to Lake Panache 
               then we stopped for dinner. Sam had asked for fresh chicken 
               to be packed for the dinner, which I was told by the guide 
               was to be grilled. Then I was told by Sam to fry it to avoid 
               the trouble of making a wood fire. I thanked Sam with a smile 
               and fried it on the portable stove. I finished the rest of 
               the dinner and served it. Sam shared his chicken with me and 
               the guide and we all settled down to compare sores and aches 
               while we ate.

               When dinner was over the guide said we would need to ride 
               into the night to stay on schedule. I cleaned up the dinner 
               site and packed my bike. The three of us rode off under the 
               dark tree canopy, with our handlebar lights blazing, along 
               the north shore of Lake Panache heading east until we came 
               to our campsite several hours later. When I noticed a 
               telephone in the campsite's washroom, I decided to call to 
               see if Walter killed himself yet or not. Tel.Info. listed 
               The Church of God and I made a collect call.

               Dempsey answered the phone.

               "Have you seen Walter? I asked him.

               "Haven't seen him since yesterday. Say, how's it going with 
               old Sam. I've heard he can be a good laugh."

               "I don't think he's in the right company. The guide is really 
               picky and I don't feel all that good."

               "Haven't you given up that 'idea' you had before."

               "No, I'm more determined than before, I'm waiting for Walter 
               before I do it."

               "Why?"

               "He's getting a gun."

               "... That's awful - that's really awful. Let me just say 
               you're being too hasty. If you think you're doing this because 
               of my ideas then you must have misunderstood me. I was never 
               advocating suicide. Only clear thinking. Does Walter know 
               what you intend to do with this gun? Does he think it's for 
               shooting practice or something?"

               "He intends to do it too."

               Dempsey laughd, then said in a low voice, "Have you heard 
               about what he did at the Cadet base last year?

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                                                                        89.


               I know it was just a rumour but he was challenged to a karate 
               match with a junior officer. He nearly killed the challenger 
               then fainted when this young man got a bloody nose. Quite an 
               extraordinary story if it's true. I can't see, from what I 
               know of him, that he would want to do it. He would probably 
               faint at the thought of his own blood being spilled."

               I countered him angrily even though I knew he was right, "It 
               was your ideas that made him decide to do it. He's as 
               convinced as I am. You know, if you, for second, wondered 
               where he could be at this moment you might realize that he 
               could have killed himself already. He was as serious as I am 
               now. Why is everybody taking this so lightly! Walter and I 
               must be worth something to someone out there - "

               Dempsey spoke up to cut me off before I started to rave, 
               "Hey, listen, I'm going to talk this over with Walter as 
               soon as I see him. You just don't kill yourself and don't do 
               anything until you see me again. You promise?"

               "I don't know."

               "Please, don't do anything, at least until you get back here. 
               Promise?"

               "All right. Until I get back."

               Dempsey tried to calm me further before hanging up to look 
               for Walter.

               I went outside of the washroom and mentioned the telephone 
               in order to avoid talking about anything else more meaningful. 
               Sam got upset and asked if we could move further down the 
               cycle path for a less civilized camping spot. He said the 
               temptations he would have to use the phone would be too great 
               to avoid for long.

               We were soon on our way moving east and in less than half an 
               hour we found a wild spot beside the lakeshore. I set up the 
               two tents but decided to sit up on a rock, watch the lake in 
               the dark and try not to sleep.

               While Sam and the guide slept in their respective tents I 
               imagined my last seconds of existence and how I would face 
               them. I wondered what Walter would do - would he back down 
               after all?

               The night dragged on until Sam came out to piss in the bushes. 
               It was strange for me to be able to relate to this old man 
               when he was so powerful. When I grew up, people like him 
               were so admired and respected I never imagined that they 
               pissed in the bushes. He saw me on the rock and decided to 
               sit next to me.

               "It's finally cooled down," Sam said.

               I agreed with a tired nod of my head even though I wasn't 
               sure what he was referring to.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        90.


               "I was thinking about what you said earlier about your 
               recently ended marriage. Did your wife leave a note to explain 
               why she went?"

               "No," I said, "I just assumed she was heading to New Ottawa 
               because she always wanted to go there. She was an artist, I 
               guess she still is. She heard so much about the city from 
               her colleagues I guess she just had to go without me."

               "You know if you give me her name I could help you find her. 
               She might not be listed by information. But if she arrived 
               in New Ottawa recently the housing authority would have her 
               registered. I'm not promising to do anything but that. Maybe, 
               I'll be giving you a chance to work things out. At least to 
               clear the air. Is that a good idea to you?"

               "I appreciate the offer but I'd rather not force myself onher 
               beore she's ready to talk to me again. I hope to bump into 
               her once I've settled down. For now I've got a job here. It 
               should get me into shape too."

               "I guess there's nothing like doing something about your 
               body to improve your mind, is there?"

               "Maybe."

               "Well, I believe it. Sometimes the problems of governing 
               Canada can seem impossible to tango with. I take emergency 
               holidays like this all the time. Remember the Turks and Cacos 
               incident back in June. As soon as it was resolved I flew to 
               Nunivuit for a little Arctic spring. Great camping up there, 
               you know. Those huge white rabbits they have up there are 
               such fun to watch. I go back to the capital and the senate 
               rejects our nuclear weapoins bill so I fight the referendum 
               and we lose again. Stress, stress, stress, -"I find this 
               kind of exercise perfect. And teh contact with outside people 
               is great. You're a breath of fresh air. As much as this breeze 
               off the lake is. You don't seem the least interested in teh 
               fact that I'm so powerful. Are you?"

               "I just have other concerns, that's all."

               "Hey, if everyone had your attitude this country could be on 
               the road to solving all its problems."

               "What problems?" I asked naively.

               I let him answer my question without interruption. He talked 
               about a bunch of mundane issues, then about his personal 
               friendship with the Prime Minister and the Executive General. 
               Then his family, pets and taste in music.

               When he'd finsihed talking I faked a yawn then he said he 
               needed to sleep. He returned to his tent in a good mood while 
               I continued to sit calmly overlooking the moonlit lake, and 
               practiced the best way to place the barrel of the gun to my 
               head.

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                                                                        91.


               Someone laughed at me.

               I dropped the paintbrush in the pot and opened my eyes into 
               the bright sky.

               "How could you sleep like that?"

               I could see the guide upside down with a disappearing smile.

               The guide said, "Don't expect the way you slept to be any 
               excuse today." He angrily walked off.

               I picked up my head off the rock. It was swollen and heavy. 
               I slowly turned over to my side to put my feet lower than 
               the rest of my body so I could stand and fight off the 
               soreness that permeated my muscles.

               I splashed my face with the edge of the lake and listened to 
               a motorboat rev up  a great distance away.

               I made breakfast when Sam woke up. When Sam and I had been 
               manipulated into readiness the three of ushopped on our bikes 
               to continue east.

               We passed an access road to the lake without seeing or hearing 
               a car. The day passed with much effort and with little 
               conversation. I was waiting to see if the guide would ask 
               Sam for some special favour, but he didn't. When it seemed 
               the guide was about to mention the favour he wanted done, 
               Sam would glance at me to expect his prize for having 
               predicted that the guide would ask for a favour. Then when 
               he was proven wrong for that moment he looked sheepish and 
               spiritually gave his prize back.

               We had rounded the east side of Lake Panache, ate lunch, 
               then dinner and were just short of Killarney when Sam gave 
               up and said he needed to stop for the night. The guide took 
               to an unoccupied campground at the base of a wide waterfall. 
               The roar of the water required us to shout at each other to 
               communicate the simplest things.

               Sam used the washroom first then when he came out the guide 
               went in to use it. This gave Sam the chance to speak to me 
               privately, which he did immediately.

               "Bernard, I was wondering if you wanted a job. you put me in 
               mind of it when you mentioned working for the post office. I 
               know you said you had your own concerns to deal with but 
               perhaps I could give you the chance to deal with them more 
               expediently. Would you like to work for me in the capital? 
               I'm sure it pays better than this job and you could settle 
               down in New Ottawa much more easily. What do you say?"

               "I don't think so. But thanks."

               "But why? It would be perfect for you."

               "I don't want to get involved with politics."

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                                                                        92.


               "It wouldn't involve policy or anything like that. I'm talking 
               about the job of liaison between departments. Really you 
               would only be a glorified messenger carrier."

               "I don't think so."

               "You're making this so difficult - I'm only trying to do you 
               a little favour - listen you think about it and try to decide 
               by tomorrow. I think I could trust you, that's the reasonI'm 
               offering you the position. The woman that has the job at the 
               moment is a real pest. She's always cutting deals before 
               consulting me. Of course, we would have to do a security 
               check on you."

               "Sam, I don't want the job. I have other priorities at the 
               moment."

               "You're making this so difficult for me. I want an outsider 
               to purify my office a little. I'm tired of party insiders 
               and their relatives. I could bring some of that fresh air 
               back to the capital. How about it?"

               "I can't. I'm sorry. I have to solve a few outstanding issues 
               here first. Please don't ask me again."

               Undeterred, Sam almost begged, "Once we arrive tomorrow I'll 
               be staying in Killarney for the remainder of the day. I want 
               you to consider my offer seriously and then give me a call 
               at the Killarney Inn. I'll be flying back to the Capital 
               tomorrow night. you sleep on the offer tonight. We'll talk 
               about it again later. Okay?"

               I knew he wasn't going to stop so I said I'd consider it.

               I went to sleep on the ground in my sleeping bag because I 
               didn't want to sleep in the same tent as the guide and deal 
               with someone who could make a suidical person even more 
               depressed.

               I lay on my back with a jacket behind my head and looked 
               into the night sky. The innumerable stars suggested to me 
               pin holes deflating the whole universe. What else could it 
               mean to me? The context that my life was in permitted no 
               other interpretation. Despite the fact I knew that other 
               people had influenced me to the state of mind I occupied, at 
               least as much as I had come to the same conclusions on my 
               own, what else could I think?

               It was my final night under the stars and as much as fate 
               had forced life on me I was going to forcemy own perspective 
               on fate, on the stars, and on the universe. My mind was the 
               only solid thing in this inflated world. And the choice my 
               mind had to either exist or not was the only quality that 
               made it solid. I had that power over my life all along. It 
               was the solid choice between letting fate have its way or 
               taking my life out of the hands of fate.

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                                                                        93.


               "Life is just a death sentence," I mumbled aloud, sending 
               myself into thepseudo-oblivion of sleep, this time with the 
               effectiveness of a bullet through my head.

               -

               IX

               A mosquito resurrected me from my oblivion by buzzing up my 
               nose and stinging me to consciousness.

               "Yuck," I said picking the smashedpointless life out of my 
               nose.

               The sunhad risen behind a diffusing bank of clougs so I wasn't 
               sure what time it was. I looked in on Sam and the guide to 
               wake them up thenfound out we had slept-in late.

               I packed up my dew-soaked sleeping bag then made a quick 
               breakfast for all of us while they packed up their bikes.

               Not long after breakfast we started on the relatively short 
               ride back to Killarney.

               When we found ourselves back on the paved, freeway-like path 
               again Sam peddled beside me to recap his favourite bits of 
               scenery that we had seen. The lakes, hills and birds. Then 
               he brought up the job he'd offered me.

               "You know, I would usually consider being turned down by 
               someone to be disappointing. But not by you. You have restored 
               my faith in human nature. Not everyone is power hungry, you've 
               made me see that. If I can't use your own self-interest to 
               motivate you to work for me then look at the job I'm offering 
               you as a chance to serve your country. I've tried to set an 
               example to other politicians by avoiding patronage, and perks. 
               If you come to my team I think you could really show the way 
               for my colleagues."

               "I've considered it enough," I said, " and I can only say 
               I'm sorry I don't want to."

               He gave in to my insistent refusals and we continued talking 
               about other subjects until we finally arrived back at the 
               outfitters.

               The boss was the only one there to greet us and he was happy 
               that Sam enjoyed his short vacation. I was paid in cash and 
               with a simple handshake to say good-bye to Sam, I was off to 
               look for Walter.

               "Didn't he want to talk to you?" I asked.

               "He couldn't care less about me. He smiled when he saw me."

               I mentioned that I had been with his boss, the Minister of 
               Defense, while on the trip. Walter seemed not interested,

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                                                                        94.


               which didn't surprise me considering the serious result this 
               meeting was going to have.

               Walter then looked at me like a child molester about to get 
               a child in his car, and he said with a grin, 
               "Congratulations."

               "What do you mean?" I asked.

               "You're going to be a father."

               My mouth dropped. I wondered briefly if I was geting a habit 
               for doing that at shocking news. "What the hell do you mean?"

               "Zinta's wanted to have a kid for a long time. She seduced 
               you in order to get one. She even got you tested for a sperm 
               count."

               I couldn't believe it but it finally all made sense; the way 
               she didn't swallow after going down on me, the "results" 
               from the drug store. I was going to be a father and I couldn't 
               have been told worse news. The "Trick" had happened again. 
               Someone else was going to be coming into the world without 
               being asked and now it was my fault.

               I was depressed but with little to say to each other from 
               that point, I followed him to where he led me. He said he ws 
               upset that he had to wait for me while I did this job. Then 
               I asked him where he had been while I was away. He said he 
               used up the time meditating on his final act. As we approached 
               the carpark Walter explained that the gun that he had brought 
               was in his six by six. We jumped in his vehicle and he handed 
               me the gun from under his seat. Walter started the engine 
               and drove away from Killarney. He said he was going to find 
               a deserted forest to give us some privacy. I looked at the 
               gun and checked the bullets. It was a plastic hand gun with 
               plastic shells, the same type that Wen used on me in Richmond 
               Hill.

               Walter told me, while he kept his eyes on the road, that he 
               had written a will and put it in the mail to Zinta and the 
               defense Ministry headquarters. I felt embarrassed as I 
               mentioned I had not considered a will. He said it was nothing 
               to worry about.

               We arrived at his deserted field of choice and immediately I 
               realized that with only one gun someone would need to go 
               first and who would it be?

               Nervous but not wanting to feel like a coward I straioght 
               away asked Walter, "Ah, who do you think should go first?" I 
               could feel cold sweat surfacing on my upper lip and I rubbed 
               it off.

               "I know it might be a little tougher on you," Walter said, 
               "but I think I should go first since it was my idea in the 
               first place."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                                        95.


               I realized that if he didn't go first he might not go at 
               all, considering what Dempsey and Zinta said about his 
               aversion to blood.

               Suddenly I pictured what I might see if Walter went first. 
               The horror of my parents' suicide would in all probability 
               compound the horror of the coming moment. I didn't know if I 
               could stay conscious long enough to pull the trigger.

               Vomit started to come up my throat, and the rough terrain 
               was tossing me, and it, to the edge. The vehicle hit a rock 
               and my head hit the roll bar. I yelled with pain then 
               swallowed the vomit that did come up.

               Walter stopped his six by six and apologized. I could see 
               that he was nervous too and that was reassuring to me.

               "This is as far as I'm going," Walter said taking his hands 
               off the steering wheel and wiping them on his pants. "You 
               know...I always considered suicide a coward's way out of 
               battle ...but I know that killing myself is the most 
               courageous thing I'm ever going to do."

               He took the gun out of my hand and looked at it.

               "Bernard, do you know why I've been put in the Cadet service? 
               It's a ghetto, you know. I'm stuck there for the rest of my 
               military career, or was stuck there, I should say. You know 
               why?"

               "No," I lied.

               "I hate the sight of blood ... I've wanted to prove to myself 
               that I could still do my job and be courageous with this 
               affliction, but I've failed. That's the real reason I want 
               to go first, I just needed to confess that to you. I'm afraid 
               that I'll back down once I've seen you - you know - do it."

               "I understand," I said with the image of my head splattered 
               like my mother's and father's had been.

               He wiped off his hands again, this time on his shoulders 
               while he crossed his arms like he was hugging himself. The 
               gun lay unatteneded on his lap.

               I panicked when I thought he would suddenly do it inside the 
               cab all over me. I was about to suggest we step out of the 
               six by six before anything happens when he said, "Maybe I'm 
               being selfish, you know I'm going to be putting you through 
               hell to see me do it. I mean after all the things that you 
               have been through in your life. The last thing you should 
               need to do is add to your misery just before you're about to 
               escape all that."

               "What's one more to my life, right?" I laughed. "Let's stepout 
               of the cab, all right?"

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                                                                        96.


               "All right," he said stepping out into the gloomy woods in 
               sync with my movements. "I think the last thing that I do in 
               my life matters to me. In fact I think if I did it after you 
               I could prove to myself that I wasn't a coward, that I had 
               some honour after all."

               I would have laughed out loud at his sudden ironic heroism 
               if he hadn't looked so pitiful while saying it. So he was 
               chickening out at the last second. I was prepared for that, 
               I was still ready to do it even if he was only going to pass 
               out after me.

               I motioned for the gun and he walked over to me, stumbling 
               on a root, then took the safety off the trigger and placed 
               it in my right hand.

               I looked down at the gun. Flashed of Wen pointing one in my 
               face happened again and how she got it from the Red and 
               Whites. Zinta seared in my mind; the moment she hit the ground 
               with her head, the cuts on her arms, the things she said as 
               she called to me before she hit the floor, 'Bernard, help 
               me. Stop this! Get me down! I won't leave you!'I almost threw 
               up at the rememberance of what she said to me. How could I 
               have done that to her. I loved her, I loved her...

               I cried openly in front of Walter as I switched hands back 
               and forth with the gun. Sweat made it slide from hand to 
               hand with the ease of a bribe.

               "I'm sorry, Walter," I said as I tried to stop the tears 
               from falling off my face, "I just realized that this has all 
               turned out for the best. I think I've come to see this as 
               justice. Not as escape. I think killing my girlfriend demanded 
               some kind of justice and if this serves that purpose then 
               I'm right to do this even if I'mwrong for other reasons. 
               This is for my girlfriend - this is for Zinta."

               Walter nodded that he understood my motives, then he turned 
               red faced and stood back as I lifted the gun to my face.

               'Zinta was so beautiful and I destroyed her. Everything that 
               was good was abouther - she cared for me for so long and in 
               the end I was only a spoiled brat.'

               I took the gun firmly in my right hand with my indez finger 
               strapped around the trigger, thinking, 'Oh - God - Zinta why 
               did I do it? Why was I so evil?' I placed the barrel against 
               my temple and tightened the trigger.

               I suddenly changed my mind about where to put the barrel and 
               instead I put it in my mouth.I could see Walter panic as he 
               thought I wasn't going to go through with it either. Then he 
               relaxed when he realized I was just changing positions.

               I decided to ignore him and look into the sky through the 
               trees. If I had sent Zinta anywhere by what I did to her I 
               hoped I was following her. I decided to ask God for 
               forgiveness just in case God did exist and was a spiteful

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                                                                        97.


               God and was going to punish me for the things I'd done. I 
               didn't want to go to heaven all that much but if I had to go 
               somewhere after my death I wanted to go there with Zinta. 
               But the grey sky gave little to inspire me to believe in a 
               heaven. I just hoped justice at least was going to be done.

               I stared down at the firing mechanism as my finger pulled 
               back on the trigger. I seemed to need to pull it a long 
               distance but I wasn't going to rush it. I paused just as it 
               might have fired when my mind filled again with images of my 
               parents pulling the trigger. I felt courage come back to me 
               but I needed a second more before firing.

               'I'll find them... I'll search them down and ... I'll forgive 
               them. Maybe we can fix things between us - maybe Zinta and i 
               can too.

               'I wish Dad and Mom had done it for me. Couldn't they see 
               that what was true for them was true for me too? Couldn't 
               they? Why couldn't they?  Walter's wife is bringing another 
               mistake into this  situation - into this goddamn world. Can't 
               she see what she's doing?

               'Life is just a death sentence - and I'm going to stop this 
               circle - this pointlessness - this hopeless cycle of pain 
               and pleasure - this life has only death as a reward - I want 
               what I had before I was born -

               I'm going to stop it - I'm ready to die. But I'm dying for 
               Justice.'

               END OF PART III