Chapter Thirteen – Death

We spent our days in the square.

It was where we gathered when we had nothing to do and wanted to be with others but still have the freedom to be outside. There was a Coffee Revolution on one side with a large patio and on the other side, there was a Scotiabank. There were other little stores too, but we stayed away from those stores. We felt comfortable more out in the open areas. I know that I felt safer among a group of people than I did sleeping in the shelters. I had stayed at the Ottawa Mission before, and I had felt like I was out there for the world to gawk at.

When I had stayed at the Ottawa Mission, I’d had a clean room with four walls and a small window, a simple bed with clean sheets and a blanket. It is a place for healing, but when you come out of there, people look at you differently. Your story is visible for everyone to see, and you don’t belong to anyone.

Among the people here, I was among my family. Sunshine and the people I knew here had become part of me in some way. I was surprised by how quickly you could form a bond with someone. All you had here was your word and your reputation. As long as I was honest about who I was and treated people kindly until they gave me a reason not to, I could be part of this family. It was that simple to have a family and I had never experienced anything like it. In my biological and extended families, there were lies, memories held onto for too long, jealousy and pain caused by other people. There were shadows with the occasional moment of light. There were promises that were broken time and time again.

With the people here on the streets, we supported one another, and we fought for each other. These were my brothers and sisters, and this surprised me. To be accepted for who I was and the fact that people wanted to know me was mind-blowingly amazing. It felt wonderful not to justify who I was and talk about what had brought me here. I simple was.

At the end of the day, we would go back to wherever we had found to sleep and rest our heads, but during the day, we always found each other. It was like there was a homing beacon that led us together.

I remember sitting in the square one day with my family, the sun bright on my face and in my eyes. I turned to look away from the suns rays and found myself looking at my mother. She was walking with a friend and looked just as shocked to see me as I was to see her. I hadn’t thought I’d ever see my mother here, but I knew that she often went out on Friday nights of went shopping on the weekends. Still, it I had never thought that I would see her here, or rather that I couldn’t comprehend the sudden clash of my two worlds: where I had been and where I was now.

My mother did not slow down when she saw me. She continued talking to her friend and kept walking. Her eyes looked at me though and I tried to hear what my mother was saying without the power of words. I felt an ocean stretch between us, each of us on our own island and unable to touch each other. I watched the current take my mother away from me and into the waves.

I sat there stunned, my head filled only with the sound of waves and the scrape of metal and steel when the waves hit the rocks around me. I tried to think of what she could have done, what kind of life receiver she could have thrown me, and my brain came up completely empty except for the sound of the waves hitting the rocks with furious abandonment. I knew at that moment that if I didn’t give up an offering of some kind, the wave would take me, too.

Closing my eyes, I tried to delve into the wires, skin and light. It took me a while to find it, but it was still pristine. It was the mind garden that I carried with me, the plants the result of everything I had planted.

Around me, my family carried on and I could hear the gentle sounds of their voices, but I was still within myself. I knew what I had to give to the waters, what I could freely give them in order the calm the waters within me. I didn’t want to break, not now, not after all this time. My mother told me that I would have to learn to do everything by myself, that nobody else would be able to do it for me.

Up until quite recently, my mother had been the one who had helped me and made me realize that anything I wanted to do was possible, despite being disabled. She had helped me to realize that even though I had difficulties I had to fight against every day, I could fight the battle. Even better, I could win.

I just didn’t realize that when my mother had said that I would have to do everything by myself and nobody else was going to help me, she was also talking about herself.

I reached down and gently plucked the Lily-of-the-Valley. Its petals were a wonder of blue, a few different shades so that the petals were made of water. The petals had reminded me of sapphires, and they always shone like beacons in the dark when I got lost for too long among my plants.

I went to the small pond in the centre of my mind and placed the lily within the water. The hiss of the waves and the strong screech of metal stopped. I wondered where the currents would take the lily. I knew only that by the time I saw it again, I might be ready to see my mother again.

Chapter Nine – The Hermit

Sunshine lived with two other guys in a two-bedroom apartment.

It was this squat building painted a burgundy too dark to be considered gentle and there was yellow trim everywhere on the outside of the building. The building looked tired, but damn it was trying. “It’s not much,” Sunshine said. “I get a large room with a window that looks out into the alley. There are sometimes that I like to sit there and listen to the music that the evening has to offer.”

He gave the old building a wink. “Still, she can be temperamental like all old places are.” Giving me first a shrug and then a saucy wink. “At least she’s trying!”

The lobby was a one room with a jumble of mailboxes that looked strangely like mouths. I was reminded of the doorknobs from The Labyrinth for some reason and wondered what kind of a world I was about to enter. There was graffiti in the stairwell that had been there for years. The words had faded to the point where they were unintelligible. In certain sections of the stairs, it looked as if a painter’s pallet had exploded: the stairs were covered in bold blacks and yellows, arcs of magenta, vibrant oranges faded to the dusk of dusk itself.

To my mind, only the fey folk lived here or those desperate to live. It felt like home to me right away. My stepfather had taught me to recognize the signs of what had once been a good building. This building may not look pretty, but I could see what the building had once been underneath the grime, crumbling stone and faded windows. She had been a jewel in her day. The wood held the stories of these people that had come before me. I may not be here very long, I thought, but it would be home while I was.

Sunshine’s roommates nodded at me when Sunshine and me came into the apartment. “This is Dan and Mike. They’re nice. Their room is that way. They don’t want anyone knowing that they are a couple, so mums the word, honey.”

We passed by a kitchen, the bathroom and then ended up in Sunshine’s room. He was right, it was a spacious room and the window to the outside world was huge. I could see the deep blue of the dusky sky and it brought me comfort. “Come here, honey. Look, it’s like a window box. You can even sit in there and write. I like to do that. I write in my journal sometime, you know? I know that it will be published someday.”

He went over to his stuff and pulled out a roll of foam. “I don’t have a lot for you to sleep on. My mother got me a futon, but it’s only a single. I can give you this to sleep on? I’m sorry honey, I wish I had more.”

I took the foam with reverence. “Thank you, it’s more than enough. You’ve given me so much already.”

“You go on and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back. I’m going to see if those two guys have left any food in the house.”

While he was gone, I took a seat in the window. If I wanted to, I could have opened it and dangled my feet out into the alleyway. Instead, I was content to sit there looking at a slice of the moon that I could see. There was a haze around the building that seemed to take on more life the darker the sky got. It’s like the building wanted to shine for all those that might need her.

I sat there and tried to focus on my own light into my words. I sat there, holding my pen and paper in hand and just enjoyed the moment instead. There was no other sound except my own breathing and Sunshine in the kitchen.

I knew that the world held the dark and the light and that I had a choice to make. I could let what happened with Shades dim my light, I could disappear into the uncertainty of this world and let myself become lost within it. What did I have anymore but my own will? I could choose to let that go, too and embrace what may come.

Or I could choose to dust myself off, get up and not have my life determined for me by a man. I was in a place of comfort with someone I trusted, and I hadn’t had that with Shades. I thought of the steps that I had taken and the path I had chosen for myself. I would see this path through to the end, no matter where it took me.

As I looked up at the sliver of the moon I could see in a dusky blue sky, I promised myself this.

Sunshine came back into the room holding two mugs. “Good news, honey! They didn’t finish everything off.” His smile was infectious as he held up the two mugs. “Chicken noodle soup!”

Chapter Eight – Strength

I’d woken in the night to hear the sounds of Shades having sex beside me.

Having expected this to happen at some point, I lay there beside him and felt my tears soaking my face and the cloth of my pillow. It was odd that he would make love next to one of the people he was supposed to be married to. I was used to this kind of irony, or at least my mindset expected it.

I reflected on two things at that moment: that he wasn’t having sex with Rainbow and that he was allowing me to be present for such a carnal act. It was like the final slap in the face, as if he were inviting me to join in some kind of rite or ritual.

When he was done, Shades and the woman left to go to some bar. I remember the look of his eyes when he left. It was like two shards of ice in the dark. I was reminded of being able to see the eyes of a cat in the dark; if you were quick enough, you could gather them to you, but you had to be careful because they had the potential to hurt.

My bag was ready and so was I. I had not stripped down to my underclothes when I had gone to bed. He hadn’t even noticed that my sneakers were still on. That worked in my favour. I counted in my head, waiting for Shades and the woman to be down at the bottom floor and out of the building. I counted for one-hundred and eighty second. Shades had a quick stroll when he had just gotten off.

I left his room and walked as quickly as I could through the apartment. No one else was up and I was able to make my escape. I had though of staying until he came back and confronting him about how he had treated me, but I realized that some battles did not need to be fought. Sometimes, the best way to fight a battle was to choose myself. That was a victory, however hard won it was. I was not leaving his room with my tail between my legs. Instead, I was choosing a new path for myself and holding my head high, proud that I had been strong enough to realize that I was worth more than Shades was willing to give me.

I went to spend the night at the mission. They had a cut off time for rooms and I was lucky to get in. I remember lying there on a plain bed with a blanket, too awake to sleep, listening to the sounds of the traffic outside the room and watching as the light played in shadows across the walls of the room.

When my alarm clock went off, I was surprised to find that I had actually fallen asleep. I took a shower at the mission, trying to be as quick as possible. I needed refuse and comfort so that I could lick my wounds. I dressed as quickly as possible and left the mission, thankful that in the midst of the shadows it was there, shining like a light.

The Youth Services Bureau was full of people that day. As I took a cup of coffee, I looked for a friendly face. I didn’t have to wait long. Sunshine found me and threw his arms around me. “Why do you look like the cat who has been kicked, honey?”

“I left Shades.” I said.

A wide smile broke out on his face. “Honey, thank goodness. I thought I would have to do an intervention!” He gave me another hug. “You’re worth more than ten of him.”

“What am I going to do?” I asked him, feeling the fear that I thought I had left behind at Shade’s apartment fill my mind. “Where am I going to go?”

“Honey, I told you already. You can come and stay with me. I live with two other guys, but they’re cool and the apartment is plenty big with lots of space.”

“Are you sure it is okay?” I asked, not wanting to impose myself upon another person.

“I told you a long time ago that you’re welcome at my place. I’m just surprised that it took you so long.” He gave me a bright smile and a quick hug. “You’re coming home with me, honey.”

Chapter Seven – The Chariot

I spent a lot of time at the YSB.

It was a home away from home really and gave me a place to get away from Shades when he was in one of his moods which was happening more and more lately.

The YSB was a haven of safety in a world that felt new and frightening. It was a place where the waters seemed to stand still around me and I didn’t feel like I was going to be taken out to sea. Whenever I was with Shades or out on the streets, I hear the steady ebb, flow and wave of water around me and within. My emotions were uncertain of where this path would take me. The waters only calmed when I put pen to paper.

I had taken a notepad and pen with me when I left home and I had taken to writing in it when I found myself lost. I would often go through the tarot deck that my brother had given me and wrote down my thoughts about certain cards within the Ancient Egyptian Tarot. It helped me to understand them. The scratching of the pen would calm the waves, and it was like the words were leading me home to myself.

I would sit in one of the chairs at the YSB, talking to friends, reading books that I found on the bookshelves, delving further into my tarot deck and writing. Interspersed through the nots about tarot and my thoughts, I would write poems, casting my words like stones upon the paper.

Words had been my comfort for so long. I had found my way in the world through them, and I had written voraciously since I was a child. I had to write; it was the way I found my voice when I felt that I didn’t have one. All throughout high school, my writing gave me the comfort I needed. I didn’t even realize I wanted to be a writer, or that I was one. Writing and words were just part of who I was. My pen had been quiet, but I had begun to take the journal out from time to time. There were only a handful of pages left, and I had to keep my writing small, but even so, they came out in a small torrent, and they carried me along, letting me know that they had my back, much like my cards. The words let me know that spirit was always there.

I looked at the pages left in my journal and wondered what I would fill those pages with, what words would fall out of me and find their way together.

One of the workers of the Youth Services Bureau stopped by my table, a woman named Rebecca. I later found out that all of the people that worked there were social workers. They were some of the very best people in my life at the time. They took care of me, each in their different way. Some would sit outside with us while we smoked cigarettes and others would walk around making sure we had food, or we had been able to take a shower.

She gave me a kind look. “What are you reading?”

“It’s my journal. I’ve been writing in it, but I’m running out of room.”

“Well, that’s awful,” she said. “You don’t want to stop a story or a poem in midsentence.”

I shrugged and gave her a weak smile. “There’s not much I can do. I’m running out of paper.”

She looked at my face and she could see the longing there. The pen lay on the table in front of me, but I didn’t reach for it. She saw my hand twitch and gave me a smile. “Hold on a second, I have an idea.”

Rebecca walked away for a moment and rummaged in the desk where the social worker on duty would sit. She returned a few minutes later with a few sheets of paper. She had folded them in half. When she handed them to me, it felt like she was giving me water or the breath of life. I could hear my pen click in joy on the table.

“You can’t stop story before it’s done,” she said. “You can fit them in the back of your journal so that you can keep writing. If you need more, just let me know.”

I nodded. “Thank you,” I told her, knowing no other words.

I slipped the paper into my journal and let the torrent of words take me forward where they would.

Chapter Six – The Lovers

Shades had proposed.

There was nothing big about it, no drawn-out proposal or big show of it. One morning as we smoked in bed, he said to me “I think we should get married.”

I was ready for us to take our relationship to a different level, and I felt a light bloom to life inside of me, becoming a flame that began to burn brightly and flicker, tickling my ribs. I was filled with hope, sure that I had misread everything.

“I’d love to,” I said.

“Good, Rainbow will be happy.”

I was momentarily confused. “What does she have to do with you marrying me?”

“I asked her to marry me first. She said that she wouldn’t do it unless you agreed to it, too.”

A snort slipped past my lips and the sound was loud in the room. I knew that was the sound of the flame that had been growing within me withering down to a small seed of flame, barley any heat but lots of smoke. I couldn’t see through the haze of it. Shades looked like someone I didn’t even know. I turned my face this way and that, trying to see past the smoke so that I could see him, but it was like the smoke wanted me to really see Shades for who he was.

I closed my eyes so that the smoke would clear. “Really? You only want to marry me if Rainbow marries you?”

I could hear him taking a drag off his cigarette. “I love you, Jamieson. But I’ve got a street cred to deal with. I’ll lose some of that if I’m like totally gay.”

That flame within me extinguished to nothing. I held on to the smoke, the one remaining piece of the fire that had been alive, only if it was for a moment. “I don’t think people will care,” I said, knowing that his mind was made up. He had asked Rainbow first.

“Fuck the other people.” He said. “I’ll care.”

I sat there weighing the words that meant the most to me against everything else that he had said. Shades had told me that he loved me, I had to hold on to that. Someone loved me, a man loved me. I thought of the other words he had said, about masculinity and street cred, and I imagined myself holding both sets of words in my hands. Opening my eyes, I looked down at my hands and for a moment, I could see an apple in one hand and a flame in the other. I had a choice to make. I nodded and chose the apple.

“When did you want to do it?” A part of me slipped away from myself. “I know a place.”

I wore my best jeans and a t-shirt. Shades and Rainbow followed me. I was the only one that knew where we were going. I had a spot that I liked to go to, where I could watch the world around me and not have to worry about finding my place within it. The Rideau Canal locks were where I could pretend that my life was of my choosing. I could look around me at the tourists enjoying the locks for the first time and pretend I was their guide, showing them how to find their place on the mountain top so that they could see the world below them.

I had my own spot. I had marked it with black ink, drawing first a large J and then a W. I knew that no matter where I ended up in this world, I could always come back to this spot and remember where I had been. When I took Shades and Rainbow there, it was supposed to be a gift to them, letting them share my space that I had claimed for myself. They didn’t seem to realize the fact that my spot on the locks was special, that it was sacred just to me. Shades scuffed his foot over my initials and looked at me. “What’s so special about the locks? I’ve been here a lot.”

“We’re near the water, earth and air. Is that it, Jamieson?” Rainbow said this in a placating voice. Her and I understood sacred places and signs.

“Yes,” I said, not knowing if I could speak any further.

“Let’s do this thing.” He held out a hand to each of us. “Rainbow, I have the ring you’ve given me. I wear it as a bond, and we are connected through it.” He turned to me. “I need a ring, Jamieson.”

I took my high school graduation ring off of my finger. Shades pointed at my Wolf ring. “I want that one.”

I knew that I had a choice to make in that moment. I knew that I was at a crossroads and that the choice I made right now would affect every moment onward. In that moment, I chose myself. I took off my high school ring and gave it to him. He gave me a dark look, as if I had crossed him and I knew he saw my actions as such.

“I will wear you ring as a symbol of your affection for me,” he said, slipping the ring onto a finger on his left hand.

I couldn’t help but notice that he had chosen different words for me. I wondered if that meant our bond was fleeting.

That night, we shared a moment of privacy between the three of us. As the candlelight flickered in the dark and Shades concentrated on Rainbow, I knew that the two of them had forgotten about me. I was left alone in a corner of the room, wondering if this was the kind of love I really wanted.