When Dolores schemes to get rid of her abusive partner, all does not go as planned... |
With a feeling of immense relief she turned into the yard and pulled up in front of the garage. Her hands trembled as she picked up the control and pressed the OPEN button. The garage door jerked upward obediently and once inside, she quickly pressed the control again to close the door behind her. She could have died out there in that incredible cold! How could she have run out of gas when the gauge had shown that the tank was full? āItās easy,ā the old man had told her. āIt could be just a loose connection. It happened to me once. I thought I had lots of gas when my tank was near empty. But I was lucky. I didnāt get stalled when it was forty below. And not on a quiet road like this one. You could of froze to death.ā Her car had stalled near the end of the lane that led from the highway to an old-fashioned farmhouse. It had been a desperately cold walk - a quarter of a mile at least - from the car to the back door of the house. She was afraid she would never make it. He had answered her frantic knocking right away and, observing her acute distress, ushered her immediately into the warm kitchen. āGive me your coat and go sit in that chair by the window. The sunās shining on it pretty good right now and that makes it the warmest spot in the house. Then he leaned into an interior hallway and called upstairs, āMatilda! We got company. Can you come down?ā āComing.ā A clear voice sang out from somewhere above and a moment later, a diminutive, white-haired woman with a light step and snapping black eyes arrived in the kitchen. She had a welcoming smile for this unexpected visitor. āMy goodness! It must be something really important to take you out on such a cold day as this.ā āI needed to get home,ā Dolores replied. āIāve been away for over a week and was afraid my entire household might be freezing up.ā She didnāt explain that her husband had been badgering her with daily telephone calls, each one detailing fresh evidence of her failings as a homemaker. āHer car stalled down at the end of the lane,ā explained the man. āIāll go down to see what I can do. Itās likely the gas lineās froze up or maybe sheās just out of gas.ā āIt shouldnāt be either,ā protested Dolores. āThe gas gauge shows FULL and Iāve been using that gas line antifreeze stuff all winter.ā āHow far have you driven since you last filled up?āasked Matilda. āOh, quite a long way. All the way from - Oh my! Then the tank wouldnāt be full would it. Oh dear! All at once I feel so stupid.ā āNot at all,ā assured the man. āMaybe youāve got a job that keeps you hopping. Itās easy to overlook one thing when you have a whole lot to look after.ā He was getting dressed for outdoors. āBut itās beginning to look like you might of run out of gas. So you just sit tight here with Matilda. If you twist her arm a little she might make you a cup of coffee. So Iāll be off. With any luck, Iāll be driving your car back up here in fifteen minutes.ā With a suggestion of a wave, he was gone. Matilda was already making coffee. āHeās awfully good with motors,ā she said proudly. āHeās forever fixing something for somebody. He loves tinkering and figuring things out. Heās just so pleased when he gets some machine to work the way it should. Getting you back on the road will make him feel good right up until bedtime.ā āWhat will he do? He didnāt take anything with him. No tools or anything.ā āHe knows what heās going to do. The first thing heāll try is to put in some gasoline. Heāll go to the shop to pick up a can of gas. Thereās one out there that we use for the lawn mower. It holds only a gallon or two, but there should be enough in it to get you to a gas station in town.ā āI donāt need to go that far. I live on this side of the city - right on this road in fact - on an acreage about seven or eight miles from here.ā āSo close? Then maybe weāll see you again. If Walter gets your car going, weāll follow you with our truck just to make sure you get home safe. Then weāll know where you live.ā āIād like that, but I donāt want to put you folks to any more trouble.ā āTrouble? Sitting here having coffee with you is trouble? What a ridiculous notion! And Walter, heās doing what he likes best. And just wait. If he gets your car going, the first thing heāll say is that we should follow you into town.ā āThat would be lovely, but how do you know what heāll say?ā āBecause weāve lived together for so long, weāve learned to think alike.ā āHow long does that take - learning to think alike?ā āI think it started the first time we were out together. That was more than fifty years ago. And weāve been getting better at it ever since.ā Dolores could only ponder on how it was that she and Clarence had learned to think so differently from each other. Had there ever been anything that they would agree on? Not that she could remember. Everything about their marriage, right from their wedding night, had been such a dreary flop. Her mouth twisted wryly as she recalled the dismal beginning of their life together. That was when she first realized that Clarence felt he had done her a great favour by marrying her. True, she was not a raving beauty and had never had a line-up of matrimonial hopefuls to choose from. But beauty is only skin deep. Dolores shrugged. She had other assets. And she had learned to look out for herself. She accepted a refill of coffee and another oatmeal cookie. āI hope Iām not keeping you from anything. You were working upstairs?ā āI wasnāt working. I was just packing a suitcase. Itās done now, except for closing it up.ā āYouāre going away. And Iām holding you up. That is too bad. Iām so sorry.ā āDonāt fret. Itās okay. Weāre not sure yet exactly where weāre going - either to Winnipeg or Brandon. Walterās cousin died last night in Winnipeg. Thatās where theyāve been living for the last four years. But, before that, they farmed for forty years just out of Brandon and thatās where they still call home. We think the funeral might be there and weāre just waiting to hear.ā āIām sorry to hear that. A death in the family is always a blow. And now you have this long drive ahead of you. Itās so sad.ā āItās not so bad. Walter and his cousin grew up together and have always kept in close touch. But the cousin was dying from cancer since last summer and now heās gone. And thatās that. At our age, you donāt worry about death. You just look it straight in the eye and keep on doing what youāve got to do. But Walter really wants to be at the funeral. There arenāt many left on his side of the family to be there.ā āBut itās such a long way and itās so terribly cold.ā āThat doesnāt matter. Our truck is fairly new and Walter is a good driver. Anything mechanical always behaves itself for him. Weāll have a good trip.ā āI certainly hope so. But if anything goes wrong, I hope you have a survival kit.ā āWeāll have our parkas and winter boots. That should be all we need. But here comes your car. I guess Walter found out what was wrong.ā In just another minute, a beaming Walter was back in the kitchen. āYou were out of gas all right. Iāve given you close to a couple of gallons. It was all I had, but it should get you to a gas station.ā āI canāt thank you enough. But there is something I can do. First, Iām going to pay you for the gasoline right now. This ten dollars will be barely enough. I would gladly pay you fifty, but something tells me you wouldnāt take it. Second, I insist that you take the survival kit from my car and put it in your truck. Just for this trip. You could run into a blizzard with blocked roads and all that before you get home.ā Walter started to protest. āWhat about you? You might need it yourself.ā āNot before you get back. Iām going to be tied up here for the next month at least. And the only place that car is going is back to the dealer to get that gas gauge fixed. Now, in the trunk of the car, thereās a bundle and a box. The bundle is a sleeping bag and an old fur coat. The box has some candles and matches, some things to eat and some bottled water. If you get caught in a blizzard, youāll be glad to have it. Please take it. Iāll feel so much better if you do.ā Walter and Matildaās eyes met. There might have been the slightest of nods. āOkay,ā laughed Walter. āWe wonāt argue. Letās do it. Iāll bring the truck around and weāll make the switch. Then weāll follow you home.ā āBut youāre waiting for a phone call.ā Matilda patted her hand. āThey have our cell number, dear. If we donāt answer the house phone, they still know how to find us. So letās get going.ā Thatās how it was done. Matilda and Walter escorted Dolores right to her driveway and then, after farewell waves, drove on, heading for somewhere in Manitoba. And now, Dolores thought, she could look forward to a guarded reunion with Clarence. She supposed that he had spent the day concocting new and creative ways to be obnoxious. What would be the issue this time? Her indifference to his career? But she wasnāt indifferent. She wished him every success with his architectural practice, just as she was successful with her dress shops. It was the dress shops that were keeping his practice afloat. Not that he would ever admit it. To hear him tell it, he was generously allowing her to invest in his business. āJust so her money will be safe,ā he had told her mother. āFar better than money in the bank. It will grow and be there for Dollyās future.ā Dolly! That was another thing. She liked her name. Dolores. It wasnāt common like Mary or Jane. And besides, it had turned out to be a great name for her growing chain of dress shops. You couldnāt beat that. No one but Clarence ever called her āDollyā and he did it only because he knew she hated it. When she was little, her cousins on the farm had a mean-tempered pony they called āDollyā that Dolores remembered with bitter revulsion. It had bit her once and had dumped her off the only time she had been cajoled into trying to ride it. So all right, she had a complex about āDollyā. Who wouldnāt? She could live with it if she had to. It was still early afternoon. Too late to go into town to check on the shop, but sheād phone to let the staff know that she was back home and would be there in the morning. Sheād have to do something about gasoline before she ventured out again. There would almost certainly be gasoline somewhere on the premises. Clarence had enough gas-powered playthings here on the acreage to equip a half-dozen farms. There would have to be a drum of gas somewhere - in the shop probably. But she wouldnāt mess with it. Sheād get Terry to do it for her. He knows where everything is and heāll know how to go about it. And heāll be around in the morning to look after the llamas. She smiled. The llamas were Clarenceās most enduring agricultural blunder. In the rosy but mistaken belief that he could make some easy money by selling breeding stock, he had bought a pair of weanling llamas, brought them home and promptly forgot about them. Because she couldnāt stand to see them neglected, Dolores found herself to be their reluctant caregiver. To her surprise, she came to enjoy them. They were gentle and affectionate and uncomplaining. She named one Ricardo and the other Rosita. That was ten years ago and, to her secret amusement, the pair had yet to produce any young. It become a part of local folklore that Clarence, for all his claimed expertise in animal husbandry, had selected two does as a breeding pair. It made a good story, one that was told and retold with every recurring calving season. Terry lived on a nearby farm which, bit by bit, he was taking over from his parents. āAs soon as Iām twenty-one,ā he confided to Dolores, āthe folks will turn the place over to me. Dad figures I can handle the work now, but theyāre not sure how Iād manage the financial end of things. Iām eighteen now, so I have three years to learn.ā āTwenty-one. By then youāll be married and settled down with the farm overrun with babies,ā she teased. Terry blushed. āNot me. I donāt know what to do around girls. I just stay away from them.ā She had hired Terry when he was sixteen to help out on the acreage. Initially, he was supposed to help look after the llamas, but as he tended to go ahead and do whatever he saw needed to be done, Dolores had come to depend on him in a dozen different ways. Without him, life on the acreage would have featured far more frustration and stress. Clarence had been determined to live on an acreage, but once he had one, he took no interest in it. āThe demands of my profession,ā he explained, ākeep me going flat out. I simply donāt have time to muck around with strawberries and chickens and wheelbarrows and spades. But I had to buy this place for Dolly. She wonāt live anywhere else.ā The odd thing was, Dolores mused, that the acreage had increased in value so much since they had bought it. It was now worth at least three times what they had paid for it. She would sell it tomorrow if only Clarence would agree. A condo in the city centre would suit her perfectly. She had recently seen two that were almost ideal. But the afternoon was moving on. Her suitcases were still in the car. She brought them in and carried them up to her room. Sheād unpack later. She had stopped at a grocery on the way home to pick up a tortiere and some corn on the cob. That, with a salad, should make a decent dinner. Dessert? If there isnāt one, heāll complain, but if there is, he wonāt eat it. There should still be some ice cream in the freezer. He can make do with that. She grimaced as she heard the familiar sounds that signalled her husbandās return home from the city. ā Oh hell! Heās home early. Better get my guard up.ā True to her expectations, he was in a challenging mood. āSo, home at last! And how are all the fashion queens? All queer as ever?ā He didnāt wait for a reply. āI canāt wait to have dinner so I need you rustle something up now because I have to get back on the road. It will be dark soon and I have a long way to go tonight.ā āWhere are you going?ā āTo Wapiti Lake. I have the drawing and specs for their new school.ā āCanāt that wait until this cold weather breaks?ā āNo. I have to be there tomorrow. Thereās a big meeting with the Indian Affairs brass, the band council and the committees. They want me to present in the morning.ā Dolores knew her question would be provocative, but she asked it anyway. āSo why wait till now to leave?ā She guessed that he was already late and under pressure. His temper flared and she knew she was right. āThatās none of your damn business. You stick to buttons and bows and Iāll stick to design.ā āIāll fix you a quick dinner while you pack. Do you want to take something to eat along with you? Thatās a long lonely road through a lot of wilderness between here and Wapiti Lake.ā āDo you think I donāt know that? Iāve been over that road enough to know what itās like. There hasnāt been any new snow lately, so the road will be clear and thatās what matters. I should be in Wapiti Lake by ten oāclock or a little later. Iāve booked a room in the motel there and will go out to the reserve in the morning.ā āOkay, Iāll get some food ready. Will instant coffee do? It will take a little longer if I brew some in the pot.ā āBrew a lot. Then you can fill a thermos for me. Strong, with lots of sugar. Iāll pack a bag and Iāve got to switch my stuff for tomorrowās meeting from my car to the Ford.ā āTo my car? Why?ā āBecause I need to, thatās why. The alternator on my car needs to be replaced. Iāve made an appointment for you to take the car in to Gibson Motors in the morning to have the job done. You can do that before you go to your brassiere emporium.ā āThatās very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much.ā āOh, youāre most welcome.ā He was almost at the door, but turned to face her, grinning in anticipation of the marvellous barb he had nurtured all day. āAnd how was Edmonton? Did you see anyone you know?ā āOf course I saw people I know. Thatās why I went there.ā āOh yes indeed. The new store. Dolorous. Dolorous. Thatās getting to be quite a big name. Almost a household word, Dolorous for the Dollar-wise. Now thereās a slogan for you. Or should we say, āfor the dollarlessā?ā He lingered, hoping for a sign that he had scored a hit. It didnāt come so he gave up. āI suppose the Ford is ready to go. Lots of gas in it?ā Dolores hesitated for the barest second. Then the lie came so easily.āLots. I topped it up just before I got home.ā āOkay, Iāll see to a few things and the come down to eat. I wonāt be long.ā As soon as Clarence was out of the room, Dolores went to rummage in a trash basket where she expected to find the dead cell phone battery she had discarded weeks earlier. There it was. She slipped it into her apron pocket. So far so good. But she had better get the meal underway. It had to be ready when Clarence came down. She moved quickly and quietly, listening intently to determine just what he was doing. She heard him close the bathroom door. This was the time. She picked up his brief case, which was there by the door, and looked through it. There was no phone. She closed the brief case and returned it to its place. Where would it be? In either his suit coat, which he had on, or his overcoat which was right there draped over a chair. She quickly felt through the pockets. There it was. She took it out, replaced the live battery with the dead one and then put the coat back where it had been. When Clarence came back to the kitchen, his dinner was on the table. He sat down to eat. āItās strange,ā Dolores reflected on what she was doing. āIām not in a murderous rage at all. But if I didnāt already have something better under way, I could slaughter him right here right now. If I could just press a button to blow him to bits, I would. Quite without passion.ā She smiled at the thought. āWhat are you grinning about?ā āA very private joke. One that you wouldnāt appreciate.ā She was spared from further inquisition by the ringing of the telephone. It was one of her store managers. Dolores settled down to talk business while Clarence finished his dinner and prepared to leave. Dolores watched him as he rose from the table, donned his overcoat and checked the pockets, picked up the briefcase and headed for the door where he paused and looked at her as if to speak. She pretended not to notice. Without a word, he went out the door, pulling it closed behind him. She watched him go, grimly satisfied that she had done all she could to ensure that she would never have to see him again. It would take a little while for all this to play itself out. She couldnāt just sit and wait for the phone to ring. There was work to be done. Her bags needed to be unpacked, for one thing. And she should eat something. She could take her time about making a nice little celebratory dinner. Maybe open that lonesome bottle of champagne? What would she eat? Lamb chops? Broiled? Frozen solid now, of course. Could be a little tricky. What else? A quiche! There are eggs. Smoked salmon and frozen spinach. Thatāll do it. The poured herself a glass of scotch and set the spinach to defrost in the microwave. Some company would be nice. Sheād love to get to know Matilda. And Walter, too, of course. What a perfect couple! Theyāre so fond of each other. And she is so proud of him. In fifty years has either one ever said anything hurtful to the other? Certainly not. Never. Why couldnāt her marriage have been like theirs? Hadnāt she tried hard enough? Did Matilda and Walter have to try? It seemed so effortless for them to love and be good to each other. Now that she had discovered them, she would make sure to develop a friendship. If she reached out to them, they would reach right back. Especially with Clarence out of the picture. Clarence. That greedy, sarcastic, self-important, bumbling boor would make it impossible. He never made friends. He drove would-be friends away. By now her Ford should be running out of fuel. Far enough up the Wapiti Lake road, she hoped, that it would be out of sight and sound. āMy best wishes to you Clarence, in that great drafting room in the sky where you can draw pictures of houses that look like jails and are as secure as bank vaults. Thatās your kind of house you creep and thatās what you made of this house. Itās like a fortress.ā She had been setting out the makings for her dinner. Everything was laid out and ready, but it was still a little early to start the quiche. She set the table. What to do next? She could have another scotch and then there was still the unpacking to do. Glass of Highland Park in hand, she made her way down the hall. Along the way, she remembered the champagne. It was in the little cupboard under the stairs that she was about to pass by. She would like it chilled. She could take it upstairs with her and set it to cool out on the balcony. But sheād have to be careful. At forty below, a bottle of wine would freeze solid in just minutes. She found the right bottle and took it with her. Upstairs, with the champagne now set on the balcony, as she proceeded with her unpacking, she remembered how she had set the table. Quite unconsciously, she had set it for two. For her and Terry? Of course! She smiled delightedly. So he was that much on her mind. Terry. Terry, with the slimness and smooth cheeks of a boy, but with the quiet demeanour of a man. Terry, betwixt and between. Terry, betwixt youth and maturity. Terry, between her sheets. Wow! She caught her breath and decided that sheād better get on with her unpacking. All that other business would have to wait. But not for too long. Sheād have her way with him. She knew it. But Terry would have to think he was having his way with her. That was important. Not crucial, perhaps, but still important. With his coming every day to do chores and with Clarence out of the way, there would always be grand opportunity. She would have only to set the stage and then give him that subtle little nudge to set things in motion. Then it all would just āhappenā. She shivered in anticipation. Unpacking done, she carried the suitcases to a storage closet. It was still early. Lots of time for a shower and a change. She had been in those travel clothes since early morning and was aching to get out of them. She went back to her room, undressed and laid out fresh underthings. What else? She shrugged. Why bother? No one else was coming. But still, what if he did? She chose a pair of grey wool slacks and a stunning green cashmere wrap-around sweater. A loosely-knotted belt could easily come undone. What then? She imagined the sweater falling open and smiled again. She was taking her time, luxuriating in the shower when she thought of the champagne. It would be freezing! That wouldnāt do. Hastily, she stepped from the shower, towelled herself off and went to the bedroom where her fresh things were laid out. But she never dressed in a hurry. Dressing for her was always a ritual that took time. Sheād rescue the champagne first. All she would have to do is reach out from the door. Just a long reach would be all. Still naked, she stepped out onto the balcony and recoiled at once from the intensity of the cold. It hurt to breathe and her eyes blurred with tears. The champagne was a little further off than she had thought. She took a long step, and reaching out, inadvertently let go of the door. There was just a whisper of sound as the door swung shut and then a solid click as the lock took hold. Dumb with dismay, Dolores dimly recalled Clarence going on about his spring-loaded hinges and automatic locks. āAbsolutely burglar proof,ā he had boasted. āA team of commandos couldnāt break in.ā Some time later, the silence on the balcony was broken by a sharp crack as the heavy champagne bottle finally split under the mounting pressure of its frozen contents. But Dolores was not disturbed, for she, too, was frozen solid. THE END |