Thursday, August 25, 2016

Chapter 9 Excerpt: "Luke"

View of Mt. Baker, Washington, from Aldegrove, B.C.
Chapter 9: Luke

“Nothing is so strong as gentleness, nothing so gentle as real strength.” – Saint Francis de Sales


 
Awakening Easter morning, I peered through the bedroom blinds. The sky was a dull grey, no sunshine in the forecast. Despite the dismal weather, claiming her mm had a surprise, Yvette had gotten up, dressed, and encouraged us to do the same. Hidden inside of cupboards, next to books and between boxes of Crispy Crunch cereal were dozens of chocolate Easter eggs wrapped in coloured foil; a caring touch by Jean who rightly assumed we might be feeling homesick. After we finished gathering up the eggs, Yvette’s mom cooked us a hearty blueberry pancake breakfast. Around four, sisters, Louise and Linda accompanied by Linda’s husband and their three children, congregated around the living room in anticipation of a traditional Easter dinner. Somewhere within the commotion, Yvette’s much-lauded older brother called to apologize.
   Luke would be arriving late.
   Perfect.
   The past several weeks, Jan and I’d heard many stories about Luke – all of them good. Whenever that happens, you wonder if a person can actually fulfill expectations. In my mind, I’d manufactured some Adonis-like human being with a six foot wing span. In this scenario, big brother did not disappoint. Arriving minutes before dinner, standing at a little over six feet tall, peering down from a pair of heart-stopping baby blues and wavy, chestnut brown hair floating past his shoulders, Yvette’s sexy, older brother easily lived up to the hype. One momentary look, and it was easy to understand why Luke drew people to him like shit sticks to a blanket – particularly women.
   Once introductions were over, we took our seats at the table set for twelve. Supplemented by the appropriate trimmings, Jean had prepared a spectacular turkey feast .
   In the midst of serving trays and casseroles dishes containing turkey, almond stuffing, scalloped potatoes, broccoli, squash, cranberries and rolls passed in conveyor belt-like fashion down the table, Luke absorbed some well-intentioned flak from his parents for his unconventional lifestyle. Currently staying  with friends nearby, a Jack-of-all-tradesman, Luke took on whatever work he could, dividing his time between Victoria, Saskatoon, and Mexico. For a fraction of what it would cost to settle in a major city, Luke’s dream was to live in the country permanently. The way he explained it, seemed natural.
   Despite fine-looking features, soulful blue eyes and liberal philosophies, what struck me most about Yvette’s older brother was his gentle deportment.
   At times, exchanges between parents and son were prickly. Staring down my plate, I listened alert as Luke softly deferred to Jan and me as unsuspecting allies, suggesting that our presence at the family table might help improve what he’d perceived his parents’ questionable opinion of their only son.
   The back and forth had reminded me of squabbles between Chris and my parents around the Sunday evening dinner table not many years before. Heated arguments about my brother’s hair length, his unsuitable clothing, and what they saw as a rebellious nature in general. According to Luke, Jan and I were doing the same thing he was, bucking conformity, trying to find a sustainable way to keep our heads afloat. Refraining from caving to societal traditions and parental expectations.
   I hadn’t thought of it that way before, yet when Luke had said it, it sounded sensible. Sane. Then again, every utterance from Yvette’s big brother’s princely mouth seemed reasonable. Much to their mom and dad’s dread, Luke pointed out, even his kid sister was an example of non-compliance. After all, Yvette had both feet planted firmly in her big brother’s shadow.
   After a time, somebody cracked a joke and people moved on to lighter dialogue. You got the impression this was the family norm. Relieved the conversation hadn’t spiraled into obtuse remarks or hostility – I’d noted that although members of Yvette’s family did not unanimously agree, they were civil and respectful of one another.
   Levity deflected beautifully. The absence of alcohol might have had something to do with it.
   Dishes magically cleared away. While Jean served homemade coconut cream pie and Nanaimo bars everybody milled about. Announcing he’d be returning shortly to his friend Mandy’s place in Langley, Luke asked Louise if she’d give him a lift. Prior to our trip to Aldergrove, it had been decided that Louise, who lived with her husband in Vancouver, would drop Jan and me off at the Y on her way home. From there, we’d take the bus back out to Betsy’s for one last night before departing with Walter and company next morning.
   When the time came, it was tough bidding Yvette yet another goodbye. Tears welling, the three of us made a firm promise to meet up in Banff that summer. Thoughtfully, Yvette wrapped up the remaining Nanaimo bars for us to take on the road.
   Mandy’s country home was a small, yet pretty, older house. Outmoded fixtures and a wood burning stove absorbed much of the main living area. Joined by her husband and young son, Mandy was moving to Hawaii and selling off several pieces of furniture. Looking over some of Mandy’s tables, Louise purchased two items for her apartment. When we about ready to leave, off the cuff, Luke made a proposal. Though careful not to commit, after our return from California in a few months, he might consider driving Jan and me to Alberta.
   I didn’t care if Luke’s offer was in vain and would never materialize.  
   Gesturing affirmatively, I concurred. “That could definitely work.”


1976: Tapes from California © 2016 Jill C. Nelson