CHAPTER FOUR
“And where are you from?”
I leaned forward in the car and smiled up at the questioning border guard, who looked like he had taken on too many shifts in a row.
We were in the border lineup heading into British Columbia, a place I hadn’t been to for at least five years. It used to be a popular jaunt for cheap shopping back in my high school days, but with their rising dollar and the visitor paranoia after 9/11, I hadn’t been itching to come back. I was just glad I actually had a passport (thanks to various trips to Sweden to see my grandfather Karl over the years) since that whole regulation had changed too.
I understood why they were being thorough but it didn’t stop me from feeling extremely guilty. And yeah, Dex and I were actually fudging the truth a teeny bit.
“I’m from Portland, Oregon,” I said as confidently as possible. Even that felt like a lie.
He peered at us suspiciously, doing a once–over of the SUV with his eyes.
“How do you know each other?” he asked.
“We’re a couple,” Dex said smoothly, flashing him his joker grin. The guard did not find it as knee–shaking as I did.
“From different states?” the guy asked, trying to get a better look into the back.
“Yes,” Dex said. I could tell he wanted to elaborate more but he obviously knew in these instances the less you said the better. We had decided that if we were a couple, it would attract less suspicion.
“What is your business in Canada?”
“A hockey game tonight and then a few days of camping afterward.”
The guard locked eyes with Dex, trying to read him. Good luck with that, I thought while keeping the fake smile plastered on my own face.
Finally he said, “Go Canucks,” and waved us through.
I gave him a short wave and once the car was a safe distance away, we both breathed a sigh of relief.
“Damn, he didn’t even ask about what booze we had,” Dex said, slapping the steering wheel lightly. We had stopped at the Duty Free store and he picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels and a carton of cigarettes. “I could have bought a few more bottles.”
“What kind of weekend did you have in mind, Dex?” I asked teasingly.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Oh, you’ll see.”
Last night we had finally found refuge in a motel a few miles south of Bellingham, Washington. We had gotten there pretty late, so we both retired to our (separate) rooms right away. It was nice to be back on the road and staying in strange motels I normally would have passed by. It made me feel like I was out there doing something.
Anyway, bet you thought this was going somewhere interesting. Nope. I slept in my room, he slept in his. We got up this morning fairly early and started on our way to the Great White North which, at this point in the year, was blindingly green in the faded morning light of autumn.
Our plan was to check–in to our motel in Vancouver in time to meet with some park ranger who Dex wanted to talk to. Then I guess there was this hockey game. The following day we would head out on a ferry to Vancouver Island, meet up with another friend of Dex’s and borrow his boat to take us to the island. It sounded all very convoluted but I wasn’t one to complain. I was just glad to be with Dex on another adventure, even though I was a bit in the dark about this one. Then again, all I had to do was ask.
“So,” I said while watching the farmlands and bloated creeks roll past, “what exactly is at this island we are going to? I thought you’d have a stack of books all ready for my homework.”
“I was hoping I would, but what little has been written about this island can only be found at the Vancouver Public Library and fuck if I have a library card. That’s why we’re meeting with Bill.”
“Ranger Bill,” I mused.
“Yes. Hopefully, he can bring us up to speed.”
“So, you’re saying that you, Declan Foray, isn’t even that all sure of what we are investigating?” I asked mockingly.
“The island was a leper colony for many years at the turn of the century. A lot of men died there, Chinese mostly. That’s enough for now.”
“What is your middle name, by the way?” I asked.
“Why?”
“So when I use your name when I’m angry I can throw it in there.”
He glanced at me and smirked. “Damned if you’ll get it out of me.”
“Can I see your passport?” I asked innocently.
He quickly snatched it from the cup holder he had stuck it in and slid it into the pocket of his grey cargo pants.
“Hell no.”
“It can’t be worse than Declan.”
“Oh really, do you really want to get pulled into a discussion over who has the most ridiculous name here because that is a fight you can’t win.”
“I’m pretty sure I can take you on,” I said smoothly.
He opened his mouth to say something, then sucked it back. Finally he eyed me playfully.
“You know, Perry, sometimes I get this uncanny impression that you are flirting with me.”
It was true. I let myself feel awkward for exactly 2.5 seconds before I said, “You think the waitresses at Denny’s flirt with you, Dex.”
That was also true. And I didn’t blame them.
“Because they do,” he finally said. “Who can resist this handsome mug?” He stroked his broad jaw and I tried my hardest not to nod along.
“Complete with rapist facial hair,” I added.
“Touche,” he said. “Tomorrow can we make fun of you? I mean, if it won’t make you cry and hole up in the bathroom for hours?”
“Ha,” was my reply. I turned my attention to the landscape. Despite it being November it almost looked as fresh as a summer’s day. Some of the trees still had leaves on them. Probably helped that, like all of the Pacific Northwest, it did nothing but rain up here. Yet on this gorgeous, clear day, rain was the furthest thing from my mind.
Dex flipped White Zombie’s “Astro Creep 3000” on the mp3 player and by the time the album was over we were crossing a bridge and heading into Vancouver, the city rising around us like a kingdom of tall glass buildings, clear water and snowcapped peaks.
We ended up staying at a Best Western right on the entertainment strip of Granville St. For once it wasn’t a motel but Dex justified the cost since we were only staying one night and we had a whole weekend of backwoods camping to do. It wasn’t even that nice of a hotel but I was pretty excited nonetheless.
We quickly got settled in our rooms and headed out the door. Dex had been on the phone with the ranger and wanted us to meet him at a coffee shop on the corner of Stanley Park. Dex had been to the city a lot more than I so we opted to get there by taking the scenic route, the seawall that took us along False Creek before it opened up into English Bay.