Inconstant Moon - Default Font Edition (17 page)

“When you put it like that . . . Well . . . I don't know.”

“I do know. Gender does not give anybody the right to hurt anybody. The only justification for violence is self defence.”

“I guess you're right, Jake, it's just that, well you just don't think about stuff like that.”

“Maybe you don't. But women aren't the only people who have violence done to them you know.”

“Violence against women was condoned for a long time.”

“And that was wrong. Just like violence against men is wrong. Or violence against children. There's always something, maybe skin color, sexual orientation or simple geekiness that gets the shit kicked out of you. But it doesn't really matter whether the excuse is gender or religion. It's still just an excuse for people who want to kick the shit out of you. It's violence that's the problem.”

Liz holds up a finger to indicate Elsie's back on the phone. “No sign, huh? If she shows, can you ask her to call me? I'm gonna look for her. Sure I'll let you know when I find her. Thanks, Elsie.”

She hangs up and stows it again, this time pulling on her jacket. “Elsie says she's not there. She'll tell the house mother and the residence security guard to keep a look out.”

“So now what?”

“I'm gonna find her,” shaking her head, “I just don't understand what happened.”

“Hang on a minute.” She looks over and sees he's pulling a fleece sweater out of his bag. “I'll help.” As they cross the lobby, Liz detours to the security desk, where a gaunt older man in a baggy security uniform is writing in a log book.

“Hey Vlad. I'm looking for my friend Natasha.”

Jake is surprised to see the slightly sinister looking man, the one that reminds him of Underworld's Victor, take one look at Liz and undergo a transformation worthy of any good horror flick. Vlad's usually stern countenance is replaced by a smile of happy recognition. “Hello, Miss Liz,” he rumbles in a deep thickly accented voice, “This is little red haired girl you work late at night with?”

“Yes. She's missed classes and no one has seen her.”

“I'm sorry I have not seen her either. It is not long enough for official search but I can ask other guards to watch out for her.” He unclips the Blackberry from his waist and sets it on the counter.

“Do you have a picture?” He gestures to her phone.

Liz beams. “Great idea!” She scrolls through the images then sends a face shot of Natasha to Vladimir's Blackberry. Then reaches over and gives him a peck on the cheek, and says, “Thanks so much, Vlad.”

The guard looks like he's about to implode with pleasure, but he masters himself and holds up a finger, “Just remember this is very unofficial Miss Liz”.

Liz nods. “I understand. We're gonna go check the paths.” Vlad eyes Jake, clearly wondering how much help the boy will be, worried he will be no help at all if there is trouble.

“Maybe I should accompany you also.” he mutters.

“No, I don't want you to get into trouble Vlad. Just spreading the word will help a lot.”

“Hey look,” says Jake, “There's Quentin. He was gonna come to the computer club meeting but I'll bet he'll help look for her.” Jake and Liz wave at Vlad and hurry after Quentin who is just stepping though the main doors into the waning light. Following him out, Liz sees he's heading toward the married student residence complex. Liz yells, “Hey Q! Wait up,” and Quentin, turns and waits for them to catch up with him.

Quentin tells Jake, “Sorry, can't make the meeting tonight.”

“This is different,” says Liz, “Have you seen Natasha, Q?”

“She's probably laying low.” he smiles. “I know I would.”

“But Nobody's seen her all afternoon. I'm worried about her. We were going to The Auto Show together, but she never showed. Jake and I are going to search for her. Can you help?”

“You think she's out here somewhere?” asks Quentin?

“I don't know Q. She didn't go home, or make any classes, so I'm worried. Maybe she's off campus, but she might be out there. And you know how stubborn she is. She might think freezing her butt off is better than having to face Bo.”

“I guess we could just walk the paths, see if she's running around out here.” Quentin agrees. “Have you tried calling her?”

Liz nods miserably. “All afternoon. Ever since she stood me up. I've left messages, but her phone's off.” Liz brushes at her eyes. “Oh Q, where is she?” Liz starts to sniffle.

Ethan joins the trio, smiling rapturously at Liz until he sees how upset she is. Opting for neutrality Ethan says, “Hey, guys, what's happening?” He's a little disconcerted no one answers him.

Quentin says, “Don't worry, when me and Tammy fight, first thing I do is turn off my phone. The last thing you wanna do in a fight is talk on the phone. Fighting has to be in person.”

Ethan asks, “What's wrong?”

Liz says, “Natasha's missing.” Then she bursts into tears.

Ethan tentatively steps toward her and pulls her into a hug. “It'll be okay, Liz”. He awkwardly pats her back.

“She was here at lunch, so she's only been gone a couple of hours right? Let's just find her, then, okay?” Ethan asks, “Uh . . . would she have a camera with her?”

“Oh yeah. She always has the little Nikon 'cause it fits in her pocket.” Liz wipes her eyes on her sleeve. “Coming to The Auto Show she'd have at least one of her digital SLRS.” She rubs her eyes.

“So maybe she's just out there taking pictures.”

“Maybe. But the light's almost gone. She should be back by now if she was on a shoot. It's just I've got a bad feeling.”

Her face is all blotchy and wet, her nose is puffy, and Ethan's breath catches as he thinks how gorgeous she is. Not sure what his role is, he digs in his pocket and offers Liz a handful of paper napkins accumulated from fast food restaurants over the life of the pea coat.

Liz accepts the napkins gratefully, using the offering to mop her face. “OK, I'm OK. Lets go look. It is broad day light after all, I'm probably being silly.”

As they start off across the oval, Ethan's arm comfortably around her waist, Liz looks brighter.

“Maybe we ought to split up. Cover more ground,” Jake suggests. “Q and I can head for the Res, you guys take the path to the parking lot.”

Ethan adds, “Good idea. And we'll cruise over to check the bus stop too. If she's not running around in the bush taking pictures, maybe she's just hiding out in the shelter.”

Tamara slams the teapot down on the table. Startled, Barbie recoils, then asks, “What's wrong Tam?”

“I'm just so mad at Q. I hurried home last night and made dinner and he never showed. Didn't even call. He was in bed when I woke up, but I don't have a clue when he came in.”

“That stinks.”

“I feel so stupid.” Tamara slides into her seat. “Everybody was right. We shouldn't have gotten married. Wait til after college my mom said. Be a doctor first and then be a wife.”

Pouring tea for both, Barbie asks, “So why didn't you?”

“I couldn't stand the thought of losing him. Then he proposed. And like the song says, we're the now generation. I wanted him now, you know? I didn't see he's not very grown up. All he wants to do is play. Probably why he's so good at playing.”

“But play is important. He still turns your crank, right?”

“That's half the problem. He can turn my crank whenever he wants. It's hard to have a serious conversation when you're makin'whoopee. Just thinking about him gets me hot. Still.” Tamara shakes her head ruefully, smiling dreamily. “Even when I'm mad as hell. You just can't imagine how good the sex is, girl. I just wish he'd grow up.”

Barbie giggles. Flashing on the clinch with Jose, she says, “Oh, I can imagine.”

Tamara sighs. “I didn't know his idea of higher education was access to a better class of drugs. Pretty much all he wants to do, hang out with the gang and smoke up. I mean I like partying, just not twenty four seven. I have to work hard at it if I'm gonna be a doctor.” Tamara takes a deep breath and says, “You know, I've been thinking about this a lot, and being a doctor is more important to me than being married. I know I'll be a good doctor. And I want it so bad I can taste it. But Q just hasn't been there for me.”

“Is it that bad?” Barbie asks, surprised.

Tamara nods miserably. “I can't party all the time or I'll wash out. I have to focus on my studies. But how can I even concentrate if I'm spending half my life wondering where he is.”

Barbie shakes her head, “Wow, Tam, I had no idea. What are you gonna do?”

“I've been hoping it'd pass, telling myself he'll settle down. Start participating in his coursework, get involved. But if anything it's getting worse.” Tamara sips her tea, staring at the steam rising up out of the mug, “I just don't know, Barb. I didn't hardly get any sleep last night, trying to wait up for him. It was after three when I put out the light and he still wasn't back.”

“You have to talk to him about it.”

“I try to but every time we end up in bed having even better sex than the time before. I freaked on his head this morning and he still almost got me back in the sack. Just talking about it hours later I still feel equal parts lust and anger. How do you handle that?”

“Whoooo, sounds kind of tempting actually.” giggles Barbie.

“You are not helping. But it sounds like you regret not giving Jose a tumble. Maybe you should, release a little tension.”

“If there was any chance at all of a no strings roll in the hay with Jose I'd be there in a heartbeat. Maybe what I'm really afraid of is that once would never be enough and we end up game over. Married and dead.” Barbie blushes and claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh Tam, I'm sorry I didn't mean . . .”

Tamara smiles sadly, “You did, and you'd be right. I gotta figure something out 'cause this married thing is gonna kill me.”

Barbie suggests, “Maybe it would help to talk in public so he can't put the moves on you. Go to the pub or something.”

“Maybe. He swore to me he'd be here for dinner tonight but he just blew it off. He knows I've got a lab and he'll miss me again.”

“Maybe he missed on purpose 'cause he knows you're mad.”

“If he doesn't bother to show up it only makes me madder. He knows that too.”

“Yeah, but guys. I mean, don't they all do that? We all make choices, and it's hard to know what we'll regret later.”

Tamara leans on her hand, dejected. “I regret too many things now, I can't afford to worry about later. What are you worried about regretting?”

“When I'm a little old lady sitting in my rocking chair in the old folks home, when I stare into the fireplace and think about my life, will I regret passing up a chance at Jose? Oh hell, I was doing so well keeping the fantasy Jose separate from the real one until, god, I was such a slut, I practically attacked him, and you know, it was so close, Tam. It was way better than my imagination. And part of me still wishes I did jump him.”

Tamara says,”Sounds like you're regretting right now.”

“Maybe I am. What I really better do is call Terrence.”

Tamara snorts. “Barbie girl, you are the only woman I know whose vibrator has a name.”

Jake and Quentin have the path to the Fyfield House Res to themselves.

Gesturing, Jake says, “Lets check this one too.”

The side path Jake is pointing at isn't groomed with wood chips, it's just worn into the undergrowth by students creating their own shortcut. Jake has no idea where it goes although Quentin knows it leads to his circle's favourite clearing, surely littered with roaches. Still, they need to check it. His friends won't have been back since it got so cold.

“Liz is probably being a bit alarmist,” Quentin tells Jake. “Nat's probably just out buying shoes or something.”

Jake nods, not really believing it.

Natasha has never struck him as one of the girls who buys truckloads of shoes. She's willing to get dirty if it'll get her a good picture. She never seems to care what she wears or if it's a mess. He doesn't quite get the bond with Boris, either. Boris is the one he can see maxing the plastic buying new clothes to make himself feel better. Bo always makes him aware of how tattered his own off the rack wardrobe is. Boris generally looks like he just stepped out of GQ or something, but Natasha's favourite couturier is Goodwill.

“Natasha!” Jake calls. They stop and listen but hear nothing but the distant sounds of the creek.

“I hope you're right.” They follow it to the clearing where they find lots of trampled grass, cigarette butts and roach ends. But no Natasha. No anybody.

Quentin peers into the bushes as he does a circuit of the clearing. “Natasha!” he calls, but gets no response.

Looking through the parking at the path going through the woods.

On the opposite branch of the path Ethan and Liz walk toward the parking lot. Periodically Liz calls out “Natasha!” but there's no sound beyond the rustling of leaves in the trees.

Liz says, “We have to find her. I have such a bad feeling.”

“We'll find her.” Ethan gives her hand a squeeze, then looks into the woods.

Most Christie students are off somewhere eating, or studying, or whatever, leaving the walkways nearly unused as night falls.

As it gets darker the sensors activate and the lights mounted on the poles lining the path wink on, one by one. They're losing light fast so it's getting harder to see.

Ethan says, “Let's just check the parking lot.”

Liz nods and they hurry up to where the footpath widens into the lot that's used by day students with cars. Unless something's scheduled in the Arts Centre, its pretty empty nights, so now only a handful of cars are flung across a space large enough to accommodate a few hundred.

Although the bus shelter looks empty, Liz crosses the lot to check while Ethan starts peering in car windows.

Approaching the residence, Jake rubs his hands together vigorously, then stuffs them in his pockets. “I'll just be a minute.”

Quentin nods. “Go on up, Jake, I'll keep looking around down here.”

“Why don't you come up with me. Warm up.”

Quentin laughs. “Then it'll just be harder to come back out. I'll keep moving thanks. Bring flashlights, that'll help.”