Eventually, a nurse comes out with a tall man following her, his fair hair thinning in the back. He’s clutching a paper bag, much like the one April’s insulin comes in. He has a star tattoo on the back of his hand. Something about him is so familiar, the hair on my neck stands on end.
“If you have any issues with your dosage, come back as soon as you can,” the nurse says. “I know it’s difficult to make the trip to the island, but—”
“God willing, I’ll be here,” he says with a laugh and again, there’s the grating sense of familiarity. Did I see him at the town hall? Or maybe at the Reinventor’s Guild? I can’t think of anywhere else I’ve met people on Salt Spring.
Then his gaze swings round and we lock eyes. His brow furrows, as if he’s experiencing that same déjà vu, unable to place me. Face to face, he crystalizes into someone I know all too well.
My eyes drop as he turns back to the nurse. I’m trapped inside a hallucination. This can’t be real. My mind refuses to interpret this as real, even as he continues talking, his voice growing more and more recognizable. “Does Pat need to sign me out?”
“She should. I don’t know where she went.” The nurse cranes her neck down the hall. “Oh! There she—”
“Pardon me, hon. I was getting something for Mrs. Charles. Oh, that you, Gord? Leaving us already?”
Gord. I grip my seat to keep from tilting out of my chair. It’s such an ordinary name; it tumbles through my mind like a stone. Gord. Gordon. I focus on breathing evenly, so that I don’t draw his attention again. I can’t give this man another reason to look at me. All that’s protecting me are eleven years and the fact that Pat used Sid’s last name, not mine, when she brought the medicine out. Funny, how we’ve both hidden behind false names.
I never knew him as Gord. I never knew him to dress in a sweater and jeans, either. His hair is a decade greyer since the last time I saw him. He shouldn’t look so ordinary. He shouldn’t be named Gord.
The Grand Astrologue stuffs his prescription into his bag. “Do I owe you anything?”
“No, Astolia’s accounts are squared away already,” she says. “The goats you turned in last May should tide you over for a while.”
Goats. The goats we had to give as sacrifice to show our commitment to his mission? The goats he said represented the constellation Aries and also tied back to the old law of Israel? He really did pick and choose from whatever tradition he wanted, but it was supposed to prove something —that we were obeying the old ways of the Earth, which all secretly agreed, when you thought about it hard. Agreed that goats were worth something.
No shit they are. They’re worth medicine.
“Perfect. Thank you, Pat.” He gives a slight bow, like an old-fashioned gentleman.
He tries to look at me one more time, but I keep my head ducked, playing with my hair as if I’m lost in thought. The nurse says something to Pat, which is a relief, because it keeps them busy until Gord—Grand Astrologue of Astolia—is out of the door and beyond earshot. By the time the nurse leaves and Pat calls me over, no one else is there to hear my name.
“Kayla, I got that insulin.”
“Thanks.” I rise from my seat on tilting legs. “So… that man said he was from somewhere?”
“Oh, yes. Astolia.” Pat passes me my bag.
“Astolia,” I repeat, hoping to sound like I’m trying to familiarize myself with a new word. “I’ve never heard of it. Is it like Penelakut or America or…?”
“Oh no, I don’t think that place is half as big,” says Pat. “They’re a smaller colony. Campbell River area, I think? It’s really something they’re still around, considering how TNS runs amok on the big island.”
“Wow.” There’s a small chance this isn’t bad news. Maybe there’s some non-ominous reason for the Grand Astrologue coming here. Maybe the time they attacked him was all a big misunderstanding and they’ve all made up. Then he realized how stupid it was locking people offfrom the modern conveniences of Salt Spring. I left over eleven years ago. I was what… fourteen? Things could change in that time.
Butgoats. Things could still be the exact same.
“Has that colony been around a long time?” I ask. “I never ran into them in the wilds.”
“Rotten luck for you. I think they’ve been around a while.” She scrunches her face, considering my question. “Been coming by the hospital as long as I can remember. And I’ve been working here for over twenty years.”
Twenty years. The entire time my family was there, he was nipping off here whenever it suited him, warning us all that ifweever met these people, they’d kill us. And no one on this island did a damn thing to stop him.
“Thanks for the medicine.” I take the bag and retreat toward the door.
“See you in a month!” says Pat merrily.
No, she won’t. Because no place that lets that man in can possibly be safe.
“YOU ARE MAKINGno sense.” April raises a textbook to obscure my face.
“April, I know what I saw! He’s been coming here for over twenty years. Pat told me herself.” I’m not sure how I expected this to go, but April’s resistance is understandable. The words spill out of me anyway. They have to. I don’t know how much time we have to run. “We need to leave. It isn’t safe!”
