Sorry Friends

Taking some time out to deal with the passing of a friend.

‘The Man Tales’ – Speaking Out – Part Two

Ani had already begun to pack up the odds and ends of the store when Margaret and Jerome arrived. She had taken brown paper and a stencil and made a sign that announced the closing date of the store and covered the entire front window with it. She now stood peering through a crack at the pedestrians who scurried past. Everyone was obviously caught up in their own world and unaware that hers was falling apart on the other side of the window. As she watched the strangers climbing the three steps up onto the bus, she listened to Margaret and Jerome arguing about the used goods that remained in the second room.

Without even looking, she knew that Jerome saw the used socks and sweaters, the raggedly three-wheel stroller and one-armed bald doll as articles in a treasure chest. She knew his eyes would be a bit unfocused and his heart rate would be slightly elevated, and he would be taking short breaths without realizing it. She could also tell by Margaret’s voice that Jerome wasn’t paying any attention to her and didn’t hear a word she was saying. Even though he had survived the dirty 30’s by his wits and his strength, when it came right down to it, he was a pack-rat. Other people’s junk was like a drug to him and he gave new meaning to the word ‘junkie’. Ani leaned her forehead against the cool glass and sighed.

“You are not taking this junk back home with us Jerome.”

“It’s good stuff Margaret. I need it.”

“What on earth do you need baby socks and a stroller for?”

“Just pack it up. I’ll find something to do with it. Maybe I’ll open my own consignment shop. Think of the money I could make and this stuff would all be free!”

In the back room Ani pressed her lips tightly together as she stacked the boxes by the back door so they could be loaded into the van later. The argument had been going on for over an hour and her mother’s voice had risen as she became more desperate to keep this junk out of her house and her life. She had put up with her husband bringing whatever garbage he found on the side of the road home, but this was too much.

“Jerome! I…” Margaret’s words were cut off by Jerome’s roar.

“Just do it!”

Ani threw the box she held onto the pile and headed through the back rooms to where her parents were arguing. Normally she appreciated the sound the dried-out wood floor made as it took her weight, but her mother’s crying distracted her.

She found Margaret sitting on the floor beside a half-filled box with her head in her hands and sobs rocking her body. Jerome stood over her, his huge hands balled at his sides as he glared at his wife. His fists opened and closed and opened and closed. When it became obvious that Margaret was not going to look at him he turned his attention to his daughter. Ani felt her knees and bladder weaken and she made a conscious effort not to pee herself.

No one spoke.

The sound of her mother’s crying echoed around the old building. It was eerie and ghostly and sounded helpless. It wormed into the brain and irritated like a thorn. It attracted Jerome’s attention once more and he raised one meaty fist.

“Don’t you dare touch her.” Ani’s words were a surprise to everyone in the room, even her. As Jerome’s head snapped up and swung in her direction, she took a gulp and steadied her legs.

“What did you say?” His voice was so full of anger that Ani’s resolve wavered briefly. His hands clenched and opened quickly and she thought he might be imagining them around her neck again.

“Don’t even think about hitting her,” she said with as much bravado as she could manage. Inside she fervently hoped that he couldn’t see that bravado was all it was. “And you are not taking this crap back to Sudbury with you. It’s going to the dump. All you’ve done is made Mom cry about this. It’s junk and you don’t need it. Mom would just have to turn around and throw it out in Sudbury. She works hard enough as it is.”

Jerome stood staring at her in total disbelief. Margaret’s crying developed a hitch as she took a deep breath before it eased off into sniffling. She dug around in the old red sweater she always wore when she was doing dirty work and pulled out a Kleenex that was tattered and thin. Folding it meticulously, she honked loud and hard. Ani almost laughed. She turned instead and walked back across the creaky floors and into the back room where she drew her foot back and kicked the first box she came to as hard as she could. Leaning against the back door she took a long shaky breath before putting her hand over her mouth and closing her eyes.

At the end of the month Ani met with Mr. Abson once more to hand over the keys. Together they walked through the empty building to double-check that no damage had been done. The old floors creaked as they rattled the lock on the back door and Ani noticed a sifting of dust was already beginning to cover everything.

Mr. Abson paused for a moment as he checked through his list before holding up a finger and closing his eyes. The sound of water trickling into the toilet bowl could be heard over the humming of the fluorescent lights and he hurried into the bathroom and twisted the shut-off valve.

At the front door, Ani noted once more the dead flies lying on the windowsills before she flicked the power switches one last time. With a final look at the empty rooms, she turned the key in the lock and placed it in the palm of the real estate agent’s hand. He looked at it briefly as it glinted dully and shrugged his shoulders before shaking her hand and striding away.

The unmistakable flavour of failure salted her evening meal and followed her into bed that night. Damn him she thought as she fought the feeling that surrounded her. I’ll show him.

‘The Man Tales’ – Speaking Out – Part One

“We’ve decided to close all the branches.”

In the few seconds it took for her mother’s words to filter through her brain, Ani’s mouth opened and closed without saying anything. When her brain had finished its functions, she still asked her mother to repeat herself and pressed the receiver to her ear to make sure she heard every word.

“We’ve decided to close the branches and just have the one store.”

“Just like that?” Ani asked

“No. Not just like that. It is too much work having three stores and it costs a lot more money for all the stock, so we’re just going to have the one.”

“But what about me?’ Ani asked incredulously.

“What about you?”

“You haven’t said one word about this to me at all!” Ani almost wailed.

“Why should we have?”

“Because it’s my life too that you’re affecting.”

“It’s for the better Ani.”

Ani could not believe what she was hearing. Her entire life flashed through her brain and she looked about helplessly. She had spent two years trying to get this business up and running and they were pulling the rug out from under her feet. Her tongue felt leaden as she asked the inevitable, “When?”

“We’re moving out of the mall in 90 days and into a place downtown.”

“What about me?” she asked once more.

“You are to call the landlord and give him notice that you’re leaving, and then we want you to put on a sale and get rid of as many of the old coats as you can.”

“What about all these consignment goods?”

“Call the people to come get their junk or it goes to the dump.” Her mother’s exasperated tone was quite evident as it came down the line.

When Ani hung up the phone she stood staring about her before bursting into tears. They were doing it again but in a much different way this time. It was obvious that her life didn’t matter to her parents and that they were just interested in their own. A twinge of panic nudged at her stomach as she briefly thought of how she would support herself, but she pushed it away for later. Instead she picked up the phone and called the landlord and then the newspaper to place the necessary ads. Unwilling to think past what she had to do, she started in on the phone calls to the owners of the consignment goods in the second room. Some of the people wanted their goods back, but most of them told her to dispose of the stuff herself. She informed them that if anything sold before the store closed, that she would make sure that they got their cut of the money.

At the end of the day she locked the door and started home. She bought a newspaper and read the help wanted ads while she ate her supper, then crawled into bed. She knew she had already decided. She wasn’t going to move back to Sudbury and work for her parents. She loved Guelph and she loved her freedom from her family. The future didn’t look easy right at the moment, but she felt she could come up with something. Just what that something was, she didn’t know. Vaguely she wondered if something had happened in Timmins. Had the affair been discovered? Her mother hadn’t sounded overly distressed about anything. But her mind circled the idea and picked at it like a scab. Had Jerome broken off the relationship or had the woman done it first? Perhaps that was why he had decided to close that branch and her store had been sucked into the whirling vortex. Maybe Margaret was getting close to finding out and Jerome was taking precautions. Heaving a huge sigh, she turned her pillow over, plumped it up and fell back into it, praying for sleep.

As the days counted down, Ani was no closer to deciding what type of job she would look for once the store closed. Living in a university town she considered returning for some kind of degree, but she didn’t have the finances to sustain that kind of ambition. At night she worked on her references and read the help wanted ads, but everything seemed so bleak. A seed of panic had sprouted in her brain and it made her edgy and nervous.

'The Man Tales' - Real Life

'The Store' was not a gift from my parents in any way. I was expected to sell enough to cover the rent of the store location and all its expenses - plus my own apartment. It was a lot of stress for someone who wasn't even 18 years old.

For those of you who are wondering what I was doing out of university before I was 18 yrs. old. I started university at the age of 16. I only completed one year before the offer came from my father to run a location of the fur store in the town where I was born.

I had run into a 'friend' I had met at university and she had moved in with me for a period of time before moving on. When she left she stole all my cutlery and my fur coat. The fur coat I didn't discover until it grew cold enough to need one. It was a learning experience for me.

I continue now with the story from the point where my friend had moved out and I had made the discovery of the theft.


Naturally we drifted apart and I continued on at the fur store where I worked harder than ever to pay the rents and feed myself. I started dating a fellow and we became engaged briefly, both caught up in our loneliness and a need to cling to something. That relationship lasted about a year and ended in the traditional toss of the ring towards his face - which in itself is a very satisfying thing to do. However, he claimed for years afterward that he could never find it once I had left the building and that I had just faked the throw....which still cracks me up.

Eventually my parents decided to close all their stores in Ontario and pack everything up and move to Alberta. I heard about it during a telephone call. In fact - what I heard was that they had sold their house and were just in the process of closing down all locations and would then be taking the stock to Alberta where they had found a city where only one furrier ruled - and ruled an area that hosted most of the millionaires in Alberta. They were excited about the rest of their lives. And myself? I could join the furs in Alberta - or stay.

I opted to stay. They hadn't once asked my opinion or even mentioned their plans in our daily telephone conversations until everything was settled. I remember those last days at the store very well.

Most fur stores will take older fur coats on trade for a newer garment. Sometimes they can resell the older garments for a little money to cover the cost of the original trade-in...sometimes they use the garments for repairing others. It works well.

Now, my father was a very forward looking man - always thinking way ahead of his time. He decided that we would use the second room to sell the used furs - and - to take in consignment goods and sell them too. Consignment stores just did not exist at that time! So - you could walk in and buy a mink coat out of the front room for thousands of dollars - or - move on into the second showroom and buy used socks. Lovely.

So when the store was closing - anyone who didn't pick up their items would forfeit ownership of them. That meant - when the store did actually close - we were left with clothing that wasn't ours. I remember very well my mother sitting crying helplessly - her head in her hands - as my father was packing everything up so he could take all this clothing with him. Granted they had come through the depression and he hoarded everything he could get his hands on...but why these things?

It was the first time I got the nerve up to speak my mind to him. Remembering what he had done to my mother I was yelling instead of speaking. The goods ended up going to the dump and my mother quit crying.

'The Man Tales' - Going back and going forward

I (Ani) went back to school and because I had missed so much, approached the same vice principle who had helped me earlier. She agreed to allowing me (Ani) to take grades 12 and 13 together as I had been an honour student. I worked very hard that year and graduated on the honour roll again - just to show everyone I could do it. During that year I met a guy and fell madly in love. I thought he was the one. About half way through our first year in university he approached me one day and told me there were just too many fish in the sea for him and that he was breaking off the relationship. I was heartbroken - and remained so for the rest of the term - and longer.

During this time I was rushed to the hospital (from the university). I underwent an emergency appendectomy - and remained hospitalised for a week. My parents never visited me once and a friend had to bring me home. I was a little surprised by their actions - but only a little.

I was still heartbroken when my first year of university ended and was very disillusioned about school as well. I was majoring in English with a minor in Psychology - and none of it was living up to my expectations of post-secondary schooling. My father approached me and offered me the opportunity to run a branch of their business in another city - the one where I was born - and loved. I thought about it for a short time and accepted - and I now post a bit about that.

(an excerpt from Chapter 12 of The Wailings - my book in progress)

As fate would have it, the building that housed the fur store where Margaret had apprenticed, stood empty. A warped sign sat propped up against the dusty front window of the showroom; the information on it fading in the sun’s rays. Ani stood staring into the shadows that swallowed the backrooms and tried to imagine her mother at work here as a young girl.

Buses pulled into the curb behind her and she watched the reflection of the passengers in the huge plate glass windows as they disembarked and hurried off. Jerome was in a phone booth at the corner talking to the real estate agent whose number appeared on the sign in the window. The diesel exhaust wrapped itself around her lungs and she coughed asthmatically, wishing their schedule would kick in and move the buses on. A bored driver eyed her curiously as she stood in the doorway of the building and she glanced away, aware of her disheveled state after the five hour drive.

“He’s coming to let us in,” Jerome said as he abruptly appeared beside her. Sniffing the air, he turned and looked at the buses idling against the curb before grunting and turning back to face her. “The fumes get trapped here against the building. You’ll have to keep the door closed.”

“So we’re going to rent it then?”

“If the price is right we will. What could be better than a fur store in the exact place where Lafreniere’s Furs was for all those years? I hope the storage vault is still in there.” Lapsing into silence, he put his huge hands up beside his face as he pressed against the glass and stared into the depths.

Just before the buses pulled away, a small man with a yellow bow tie and round glasses approached the duo. In his left hand he held a clipboard and a set of keys, his right hand he extended without hesitation in Jerome’s direction.

“You must be Mr. Black. I’m David Abson. We talked on the phone earlier.”

Jerome shook his hand and introduced Ani. The realtor smiled as he nodded in her direction while he fiddled with the keys, trying to find the one that unlocked the front door. A wave of stale air washed over them as he pushed open the glass door, and the line of dead flies that were pressed up against the draft stop lifted as one and scattered into the room on the incoming breeze. The constant noise from the traffic stopped abruptly as the door swung closed and Ani shivered as the dead air pressed against her with little vampiric mouths.

She stayed close to Jerome as the realtor found the fuse box and flipped some switches, activating the fluorescent lighting. It sputtered and hissed spasmodically as it flickered into life, complaining of being brought back from the dead. Dust coated the floors and covered the shelving left by the last retailer, and it puffed up around their shoes as they made their way through the two front retail rooms. Wood paneling covered the walls and the tiles on the floor were broken and stained. As one, they peered into the tiny bathroom that had obviously been added sometime in the 50’s. Both men grunted their approval while Ani shivered with disgust before they turned their attention to the back rooms.

The vault door stood open and Jerome hastened towards it with an eager look on his face. He flapped his hand around the opening looking for a light switch and was rewarded when a single bulb came to life overhead. Rows of metal rods stretched to the walls in two layers with an aisle down the middle. On the back wall, an old air-conditioning unit dripped cobwebs, the louvered vents on the front caked solid with years of accumulated dust. Jerome plugged it in and flipped switches, but it remained impassive to his touch.

“I don’t believe that thing has worked in years,” the realtor said as he flipped through some papers on his clipboard.

“Too bad,” Jerome said with a great deal of disappointment.

They wandered through the remaining rooms while Jerome checked the barricades on the back door. Wire grid covered the windows and Ani found it hard to believe that Margaret had happily learned her trade in this building. She hesitated when they opened a small door and looked at stairs descending to the next level. Silence saturated the inky blackness and the damp smell of raw earth tickled her nose. Again Jerome led the way, and Ani was startled when she remembered that her father had probably been here many times while Margaret was an apprentice.

A few bulbs hung from the rafters, their glow barely piercing the dark expanse. Old wooden tables stood about and Jerome leaned on one briefly before moving away as the legs wobbled beneath his weight.

“They use to do the blocking down here when your Mother worked here.”

“It’s hard to believe that this is where Mom worked,” she said as she rubbed the goose bumps on her arms and peered around.

In a corner she could see a door propped open, and she squealed as her hand passed through cobwebs while she searched for a switch. A bulb hanging on a long cord eased into life above her head and she stared into a rust-filled toilet bowl, its yellowed toilet seat cracked and stained. A small sink with separate taps hung on the wall. The drainpipe had been disconnected and Ani could see a clump of hair with dried soapsuds clinging to it hanging from its rusty mouth. Someone had tried to brighten the little room in the bowels of the building by papering the walls. The dampness of the basement had stained it in patches, and it hung in tatters beside the toilet where someone had picked at it with their fingernails. The smell of decay and urine made Ani gag and she hurried back to the men as they headed for the stairs and the fresher air on the main floor.

While the men negotiated the rent, Ani wandered from room to room, listening to the old wooden floors creak beneath her feet. The place was way too big for what they needed, and she felt overwhelmed by the job that lay ahead of her.

“Mr. Abson told me of an apartment for rent on Waterloo Avenue. I suggest we get over there and have a look at it right away. That way you’ll have a place to live and we can get this project rolling.” Jerome jangled the keys in his huge hands as he looked around the space again. “Don’t worry Ani, I know it looks impossible, but I do have some ideas that might work out just fine for here.”

The one-bedroom basement apartment was available immediately, and Jerome wrote a check for the first and last month’s rent and handed it to the superintendent. By the time they had dragged their sleeping bags and overnight bags into the apartment they were starving and headed out for supper.

Jerome slowly drove the van past the houses they had owned before they moved to Sudbury. They were both silent as they stared at the small modifications that had been made to each house, aware that these slight changes were painful for both of them. After they had eaten, Jerome drove around the city, noting changes and pointing out places where he and Margaret had shared experiences. Ani watched his face carefully in the dusky light. He hadn’t ever talked to her this much, and she wondered if it was the beauty and memories of Guelph that caused it, or something else. When they returned to the apartment, Ani set about cleaning the bathroom and kitchen while Jerome spread the newspaper in front of his face and disappeared behind it.