Rushing Whispers

    “How long is this bus ride going to take, anyway?”      “Relax,” I told Dale firmly. “We’re not even past Belleville. It’ll be at least another four hours.”      “Four hours?” Colin repeated halfheartedly.      "What's the big deal?" I asked incredulously. "You've been on buses before. It's only six hours to Montreal from Toronto."      "Why couldn't we fly, again?" Dale pressed.      I shook my head. "It's only an hour by plane, but it's less trouble to drive." Dale opened his mouth to reply, but I pointed a finger at him and his mouth closed. “One more word, Dale, and the driver will pull over,” I warned him sternly, “and you will spend the rest of the drive stuffed in the luggage compartment.”      I heard a snicker from behind me and whipped my head around to see Willie looking out the window trying to hide his amusement.      “Don’t tempt me to put you t...

    As it always did, being backstage before the show brought me a mix of contradicting feelings, and tonight’s emotional cocktail could have rivalled a Long Island iced tea. I was extremely proud of what the band had been able to accomplish with the first show of the tour, and I was hopeful and excited that the great reception would carry over into the rest of the dates.      Yet at the same time, my joy was muddled with reluctance to leave Vancouver— and Mark— tomorrow, and sadness at the inevitability of doing so. Despite my mixed emotions, I had enjoyed Amoeba’s Canadian debut last night and the band had delivered a searing performance that I was sure they would repeat tonight.      With the stage manager’s signal given, the band hurried off onto the stage and revelled in the crowd’s howl of excitement. I was glad that Mark had accepted our invitation to attend tonight’s show, and even more so when he had shown up looking ex...

    Mark had gone back to his apartment in Burnaby on Saturday evening, and would only return the next weekend. The last few days had been spent in a general mode of relaxation, and I was glad that Roy had agreed to stay in our company; he had a fast wit I admired and was very easy to get along with.      I was standing on the porch, leaning against the railing and listening to the sounds of the forest, when Cameron came to join me.      “Roy’s agreed to drive me into town, if you’d like to come along?” Cameron was good at masking his real thoughts, but I could hear the hopeful leaning of his tone.      “Why not? I’ve never seen Chilliwack, and I’m already this close to it.” I turned to look at him and he surprised me by kissing my forehead. “What’s bringing you into town?”      “I’ve written a letter for Joan.”      “So that’s what you were doing this morning,” I noted. When I had wo...

[Cameron’s Perspective]      I had no idea what time it was when I opened my eyes, but I knew that Emily hadn’t come to bed yet. I took advantage of the whole bed as I stretched, though I would have preferred to have less room to move but her beside me.      I never had to hide my emotions or worries from Emily, and I knew that. Still, waking in the night to find her absent gave me a moment of clarity to be honest with myself. I sat up on the bed and rubbed my face to incite myself to wake up, and silently thanked Mark for having given us slippers.      ‘That’s why you can’t sleep,’ I scolded myself, 'you fretful dolt.'      I was fretting, and I couldn't deny it, even just to make myself feel better. In the days before we left Texas, I had asked Emily to tell me about Mark and their friendship. It was just friendship, she'd assured me, and even when I learned they'd kissed one summer, I believed her. I had no rea...

    “You’re not nervous, are you?”      I turned to Cameron, fully aware of the sheepish look on my face, but didn’t say a word. Even if I had, no one else would have heard me with the sound of the engines beginning to overpower our conversations.      He smiled reassuringly and gave me a swift kiss on the cheek. “You don’t need to be, my love,” he said to me. “If he is what you say he is, he’ll be happy to see you.”      I murmured a thanks, but Cameron’s words hadn’t done much to calm me. He was right, though. In the last few days, he had asked me about Mark and my relationship with him, and I’d obliged him by telling stories.      “It was near the end of summer and Lil and I had been living with Gran for a few months,” I recalled.      “Fifty-six, then?” Cameron asked, making sure of the year.      I nodded. “Yes. Gran gave us miles of freedom compared to what we had had...