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We listened to the police radio in amicable silence on the ride to the recreational center where the classes were held. It was a comforting and familiar thing, to listen to the on-and-off buzz of incomprehensible voices that spoke in numbers and districts to each other.
I had grown up in the front seat of Jeremy's cruiser and before things had started to go sour, I had always imagined him as some sort of hero; off to save the city from certain disaster.Now, I felt as if I were one of the villains in my childhood fantasies. I felt like I probably belonged in the back seat of his undercover cruiser instead of the front. However, I kept my thoughts to myself and we sat in silence for the rest of the drive. I stared resolutely out of the passenger window. I saw Jeremy’s reflection in the glass each time he sent a worried glance my way, but I pretended not to notice.
2
Jeremy pulled in front of the disheveled rec center and gave my hand a squeeze as I got out of his Honda.
“Good luck kiddo,” I nodded at him and shut the passenger door. Jeremy pulled gently into the slow-moving downtown traffic, and I watched him go.
I had no interest in going to this stupid class. The man who led the seminar was old and balding and he smelled like cats. I had no idea what qualified him to teach people about controlling their rage when it was apparent that he had the emotional range of a wet paper towel. I had promised Jeremy though; so I would go and try my best not to die from the mundanity of it all.
It was rush hour downtown Toronto. The sidewalks were packed. Business women hurried to catch their trains to the suburbs with their high heels held in hand and sneakers on their feet. Men in suits laughed with each other on their way home, ties half-mast. I had no trouble merging into the flow. People had a natural way of avoiding me. It had been this way for as long as I could remember. People around me either physically evaded me completely or lashed out at me. Jeremy and Clair had been the only people I had ever met who seemed able to tolerate me at all. So predictably, I was a tad bitter for my age.
Luckily, because I had taken my trip to the principal’s office closer to the end of the school day, I wasn't outrageously early. Just early enough to take a quick detour to the rec’s bathroom to scrub the blood off of my hands. I sighed heavily as I watched Neil’s blood turn the water a rusty orange before spiraling down the drain. I didn’t want to be like this, but I just couldn't seem to stop myself when people got in my face.
In my defense, I had warned Neil a few times to leave me alone, before he made a comment about my mother. The angry creature that seemed to sleep curled around my heart had roared to life instantly at the mention of Clair, and it had been game over.
Finally, feeling like I looked a little bit less like a bad Carrie cosplay, I pushed open the heavy bathroom door and walked by the front desk. The lady behind the counter barely glanced up as I passed, which was fine with me. The less attention I drew to myself the safer everyone tended to be.
I turned into the room reserved for the class and surveyed my surroundings. There was a snack table set up on the far wall with baked goods and a large coffee thermos. Three or four other people were already scattered about sitting in the fold-up chairs. All of them were heavily engrossed in their phones.
Since I was early, the counselor wasn’t there yet and I chose a chair at the back of the class. I knew better than to try and sit too close to anyone. It usually resulted in humiliation as they scrambled up to get away from me, muttering excuses.
I was about to pull out my own phone when the smell of the ocean suddenly filled the room. The scent was so powerful that I glanced up in shock to see what had brought on the sudden sensation. No one else had seemed to notice it. Everyone was still checking sports scores or their news feeds. The only thing that had changed was the young man who loped in.
He had cornrows laced tightly against his head and a pair of sunglasses perched on his brow. His skin was dark enough that you had to look carefully to see the tattoos that trickled up both of his arms. As he surveyed his surroundings, he seemed perfectly at ease, as if he were the type of person who could walk into a room on fire and make the best of it.
His shirt was white and crisp, but he wore it open at the collar. Khaki green shorts hung to his knees and thong flip-flops adorned his feet. He looked as if he had just walked right off the beach and I wondered if he had made a wrong turn on his way to paradise. I tried not to snort out loud to myself at the idea. If he was looking for paradise how had he ended up in this shithole?
I watched the young man who smelled strongly of fresh air and salt water as he eased further into the room. He grinned at the table of snacks and sauntered over to pile a paper plate high with cookies and donuts. Holding the plate with one hand, he deftly filled a Styrofoam cup up with the other. Then, to my complete and utter shock, he turned and made eye contact with me. He smiled good-naturedly, flashing white, straight teeth. Sauntering over, he flopped down right next to me and a truly Jamaican greeting tumbled from his mouth.
“Wah gwaan, Gyaal? ” He grinned. I blanched, and my whole body locked up. The last time someone had intentionally sat next to me, it had been on a dare. I shoved those painful memories back and tried to focus on the situation at hand, considering this insane person was still waiting for me to reply. He occupied himself during my prolonged silence by taking a massive bite of a donut and a gulp of coffee. After, it became clear that I wasn’t going to be able to answer, he carried on as if I had.
“I’m Conrad, Conrad Brown; what’s yuh name?” He asked though it came out more like ‘Mi Conrad, Conrad Brown, wah yuh name?’ His Jamaican patois made everything he said sound warm and friendly. I could almost imagine a rustle of seashells when he spoke, and I almost literally felt a warm breeze and the sun on my skin. I was starting to wonder if Neil Green had slipped something into my soup at lunch before he started harassing me. What was going on with me?
“Um. Raven.” Was my beautifully crafted response. So stupid. I chided myself. He grinned at me again, as if he could read my thoughts.
“Donut?” He asked offering me his loaded paper plate. I swear my eyes were going to pop right out. I shook my head at him like an idiot. “Really?” He seemed taken aback. “Mi thought people just came tuh these tings for di free food.” Once I’d decoded his easy blend of English and Patois, I shrugged.
“I’m supposed to be working on bettering myself,” I replied, immediately wincing at how stuck-up I sounded. I felt awkward and stiff next to him. He was so fluid and easy to be around and here I sat like a dead rock saying things like ‘better myself.’ He laughed, and it took me a couple seconds to realize that he wasn’t laughing at me. He had genuinely thought what I had said was funny. What a strange, strange boy.
“Somehow, mi feel like dis is di type a place dat ruins a person, it no make dem better.” Conrad mused. I thought of the bland counselor whom I was convinced had never actually felt angry before in his life and had to agree. If he asked me one more time to take a deep breath and count to ten, I would snap.
“You’re not wrong,” I responded. Conrad gave me another one of his dazzling smiles.
“Well, let’s get out of here, den.” He smirked easily, as if he would ditch an appointment with the devil without a second thought.
“What?” I asked, flabbergasted.
“Yuh know. Ditch . Let’s get out of here.” He explained, already standing up.
“I know what ditch means.” I snapped. “I just can’t, I promised my…er, father.” I didn’t really want to get into the fact that I was adopted. It was easier to say father than ‘ honest-to-god saint of a human who took a shit-head like me in ’. Conrad brushed off my excuse as easily as he seemed to do with everything else.
“Yeah, but him not here, is he?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows, making his sunglasses bounce up and down. I remained silent.
“Fine, suit yuhself.” He said, sliding his shades over his dark brown eyes and turning to leave. “Mi nah from here though. Letting me wander around without a local to guide mi could be di death of mi.” He called back dramatically. I rolled my eyes and bit back a smile. I tried to convince myself that Jeremy would understand. No one had ever tried to be my friend before.
This guy wasn’t much older than me… I thought of all those groups of kids at school, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. I had given up on having friends a long time ago, and now the possibility seemed to have come to life before my eyes. I battled with my sense of responsibility to uphold my promise to Jeremy and my teenage desire to have at least one friend. The teenager in me won and I shot up from my chair and chased after the boy who smelled like the ocean.
