By Lucy

This week was not good.

I knew I was dancing on the razor’s edge, but that happens a lot. I was counting on the benefits refund for my spa visit coming in on Monday, but it was declined (I hit the wrong button or something, because I applied again and this time it was accepted and paid out). But then I got completely screwed over by Factor. I forgot to cancel my meals, but I also knew I didn’t have enough space on my credit card and figured the payment would decline and it would go away.

Nope!

Factor emailed me to tell me it was sending me the meals anyway, even though payment declined. The meals I didn’t want.

Whatever.

But then on Monday, somehow they forced the payment through on my credit card. Which forced my credit card over my limit and I got hit with an overlimit charge. So not only do I not have any wiggle room on my card, I now have an extra 50 bucks to pay back for absolutely nothing.

Then it turned out my EI benefits were messed up cuz, as of writing, the Home Depot team still hasn’t sent in my ROE, in defiance of the law.

And then it turned out that in the 3 odd weeks since I had set up the doctors appointment, New Zealand had changed the working holiday visa requirements and I was no longer eligible.

So my 800 dollar trip to Winnipeg was worth nothing.

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Like, that’s a grand I’ve blown in a week, a grand I could use for a lot of other things. Coupled with, or despite, the emotional trauma of the visit to the cemetery, my mind started to fray and finally unraveled in the middle of the week.

Sunday I woke up early to go sailing. It was the Sawyer bay race, which seemed like a poetic full circle. Early in August last year, me and Hanuman did a hike to the Head of the Giant, which skirts Sawyer bay at one point. I remembered looking at the anchor balls in the bay and wondering who would sail a boat out there. Now I know.

Chris was late. Me and Tina stood next to the gate, chatting and shivering our butts off. Ever since I got back from Winnipeg, it’s been chilly, which annoys the crap out of me. I was so glad to be done the night shift job so I could enjoy a bit of summer, and now summer seems to have ended early.

I’m starting to regret having come back at all. I’m not getting things done the way I wanted to, and it’s hard to say that it’s been worth it. I have to keep reminding myself that part of the reason I came back was because my dentist though I needed surgery.

We were joined by Marissa, who has replaced Gillian as my boat buddy, and Don, an older man and an experienced sailor.

We got underway quickly, as under power it takes 3 hours to cross to Sawyer bay, and we weren’t racing, so there was nothing that couldn’t be done as the autopilot guided us. As we reached the breakwaters, the wind picked up, and Chris had us raise the main. Soon we were travelling faster under power of the main than the diesel engine and the waves started growing larger and larger.

“It’ll be whitecaps before the race starts, Chris.” Don warned. Whitecaps mean the wind is at least 10 knots.

We reached Sawyer bay in 2 hours. Now we had 2 hours to kill before the race starts.

We grabbed an anchor ball and had a little picnic. I kept joking about jumping in the water and having a swim, or swimming to shore, but it was too cold for that. We got there first and watched everyone else coming in as the boat was tossed about the increasing waves. I put on some waterproof pants I found below deck.

One of the other boats lost a halyard as they approached the bay. Another 2 quit the race before it started, spooked by how high the waves were.

That probably should have been our sign.

Chris put me on the main, which was probably a logical decision about strength as much as skill. I was probably the person on the boat with the biggest biceps. Don was supposed to be teaching me, but Don is a bad teacher who has a bad habit of reaching over to adjust the ropes instead of telling me which rope to adjust and why. I kept slapping his hand away and screaming at him to explain to me what to do. Chris nodded approvingly.

Almost immediately as the race started, we lost a halyard for the jib. It snapped inside the mast and went flying. The rest of us stared at it, dumbfounded, before Chris prodded us into setting up the spare halyard. We also put two reefing lines on the main, to reduced the amount of sail catching the wind and try to control the boat better.

What a long race.

It probably wasn’t too bad for those sitting on the foredeck, but for me and Chris it was an endurance race. We were probably at a full 15-20 degree tilt for almost the entire race, as the wind pushed us over instead of forward, so we were trying our best to stand upright at our posts for those 5 hours. Actually, maybe more than a 20 degree angle – at times we were burying the lifeline, and both sails got wet. Chris kept prompting me to try and put the traveler up to gain more speed, but every time he did we dipped back into the water.

The waves were truly whitecaps now and they kept crashing over the bow of the boat, to such an extent that they would have soaked even my pants if I wasn’t wearing the waterproof ones. We all got facefulls of ice cold waves.

Eventually we got back to the Marina. We got second by 17 seconds.

I’d put waterproof sunscreen on before the race started and it was cloudy, but when I got home I discovered the wind has peeled the skin off my face. My face was red and tender, so I moisturized it with the stuff I use for tattoos.

I wanted to stay up and play games a bit, but I was too tired to keep my eyes open. I went to bed early and slept for like ten hours.

First day of school.

I stood before the door, nervous.

“What’s up?” Hanuman asks.

“I’m anxious.” I say, blinking away tears. “What if I mess up?”

He folds me into a hug. “You won’t. You’re gonna go in there and kick all the boys butts, and have a lot of fun.”

Sniffle. “Ok.”

The anxiety doesn’t go away when I walk in the door. I was aiming more towards 9 cuz I was worried about showing up too early. However, most of the class was there already.

There was a man there with a loud voice and a bushy beard, and based on nothing else I had a feeling he was Paul’s brother-in-law, David.

At 9, a man came out to the lounge where we were waiting. “You know you guys can come back to the classroom, right? You made me nervous.”

I’ve never met Landon before and I’m not super impressed. His pants hang pretty low on his hips, for a start, and something about his demeanor seems too casual to be teacher quality. He also makes sarcastic under-his-breath comments and uses “Oh, 100%” far too liberally, but then he is a carpenter. He has sleeves of tattoo and a lip piercing, not that I’m judging him for that, just setting the tone.

He starts by handing out pieces of paper with our names on them to set on our desk so he can learn them. To his credit, he doesn’t immediately hand me my name, although he does go on to refer to me by “Ms last name” and says “guys and girl” until I ask him to stop. He asks us to tell the class a bit about ourselves and I am also literally the only person in the class who moved here from southern Ontario. Everyone else knows everyone elses’s parents etc. When I mention I moved here from southern Ontario everyone goes “Why move here?”

I am glad that I’m not the most inexperienced person here. Actually, it seems like most of the guys got signed with one company and then stayed there, doing one job over and over. However, most of them also have a garage full of tools, or access to a garage full of tools, and been what Landon calls “weekend warriors”.

Not for the first time, I’m also glad I have Duff in my life. Apparently most of them had to go get someone else for rigging and hoisting, or they just been working away by themselves with no journeymen to ask for help. Duff’s taught me a lot more than even the average scaffolding apprentice knows.

After we buy our books and Landon gives us a surprisingly small list of tools, he lets us go for the day.

I have to buy a couple of things from the grocery store, and a couple of things off my list – like a calculator – and Jeremy needs to go shopping too, so I pick him up and take him with me.

When I get home, I call EI. They tell me the code Landon gave us for the class isn’t working for me, and I need to call the school and ask them to submit “the form”.

I get an email that my medical forms are all back from Winnipeg. I passed with flying colours; managed to boost all my stats so it all looked normal. Time to apply for my next visa.

I go on the New Zealand immigration site. I click on the application. I sit there, dumbfounded.

Sometime in the last two weeks, they changed the visa. I have to be in New Zealand to apply.

WHAT?!

I go out to the living room and rage myself inside out.

“Just apply when you get to New Zealand?” Hanuman offers.

“I can’t! My visa expires September 18th. I have to be there before it expires to apply!”

“That sucks. They’ve probably had a lot of applications this year because everyone is avoiding the states.”

That makes sense.

Gah! I should have applied sooner, I should have applied for the 2 year visa last year, I should have… I should have…

Everyone has solutions. The problem is, I was counting on that sweet fruit-picking money to set me up in Japan and Thailand, especially since selling the car isn’t working out so hot. I suppose there is fruit picking jobs in Australia as well, but I’m afraid of going to Australia.

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I start developing canker sores in my mouth. It hurts to eat and brush my teeth. I’m grinding my teeth at night and the pain radiates down my jaw and neck during the day. I need Tylenol to sleep thru the pain.

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Day 2 of school. We do schoolwork, but we can flip thru the textbook to find answers to the questions, which is child’s play for me and I’m done a full half an hour before anyone else. Landon forbids phones in the classroom, so I doodle on the back of the paper.

We learn about what construction is (yawn) what the different trades are (boring) and about wood (which is interesting). Landon’s not kidding when he says this is a back-to-basics course.

He lets us go between 2:30-3 o’clock. The classroom is open ’til 4 and he’ll be there until that time in case we need anything. I knew the course was gonna be easy, but I didn’t think it would be this easy.

On the way home, I grab the unwanted Factor box from Jeremy’s place and my new phone cases. It makes me happy.

Jogging club at 6. Jeremy says he’ll show up, but doesn’t. John does, though, which is fun. Him and Lara take off like racehorses while me and Kev putter along behind them. After we call it, we get ice cream and watch a husky get into a staring contest with the beaver that lives at the marina.

I’ve been trying to go to bed at 10 so I can get up at 6. It’s not working out. Part of it is that everyone is up later and I don’t want to leave the party. The other part is that Hanuman and Emily are noisy, or I perceive them to be noisy. It’s hard to separate what is normal human noise from what actives my misophonia, sometimes, especially when I’m already stressed out.

I start drinking the Vermouth I bought for cooking. I can’t tell if I like the flavour or if I just want some alcohol. I do think I like the flavour. It reminds me of absinthe.

The 26th is important. Why does that date keep itching my brain? It’s come and gone now…

More learning about wood. What’s the difference between a split and a shake? Quartersawn or plainsawing? How it is dried, how is it pressure treated?

Me and David have established ourselves as the smartest ones in the class. I seriously doubt the ability of some of these guys to walk and chew gum at the same time, nevermind do something simple but critical, like scaffold. David tells me stories about all the times Bayko has punched someone out at work, which doesn’t surprise me, but he hasn’t decked anyone this year – probably cuz everyone is scared of him now.

One of the guys is a former cop. He says he got fired because he was “too nice”. I think he’s probably messed up quite a bit to be let go from the Thunder Bay police department.

Terry has been staying in contact with me, which I find surprising. He’s working down in Westfort.

K wants to hang out Wednesday. We haven’t hung out since I got pissed off at him while I was working at the mill. We made plans to go out for sushi, but everyone’s been waiting all day for this monster thunderstorm to roll in. Of course it hits just as I’m running out to the car to pick him up (his car died again). I watch as the rain chases me down Memorial, so thick you can’t even see across the road. As I reach his place, it catches up and becomes hail. I can’t quite get under the cover of his front doorstep and he opens the passenger door and watches as the rain pours into my car, soaking the seat.

“Get in, you idiot!”

Finally he gets in. Brought my notarized copy of my papers too, I half expected him to have forgotten.

We have a good time at sushi. It’s sunny while we eat, but when we go to leave the thunderstorm starts up again.

As I drive him home, he says, “You never introduce me to Hanuman and Emily.”

I almost involuntarily stomp on the brake. “WHAT? Do you not remember that we stopped talking because you wouldn’t come to my apartment because Hanuman and Emily were “too many people?”

“It depends on my mood.” He says in a small voice.

“I’m not psychic, you maniac! I’m going to start calling you Chuck McGill!”

He laughs at that.

Thursday we are welding. Everyone knows that you have to do a welding course for level one, and no one is ever looking forward to it. If we wanted to be welders, we’d be taking a welding ticket. Personally, I’m terrified I’m going to light myself on fire, which is ironic when you consider it’s not even the first time I’ve welded. I got put in a shop class in high school and it terrified me then too, although I finished all the work and passed the course.

Landon can’t legally teach us welding, so they had to bring in an outside teacher. The teacher’s name is Aiden and he’s also not a teaching type. He is super gung-ho about welding, though, and spends the day rambling about all the different types of welding to the point that it overwhelms my ability to absorb. Legally speaking, we’re only allowed to weld 4 hours a day and none of it can be structural; mostly for steel forms or if, say, we need to shorten a metal door frame. It’ll mostly be electric arc or oxyacetyl.

He’s clearly between jobs and between car insurance – his search history is full of those. He says “yeah um” and “like” a lot.

We go to the shop to weld for about a couple of hours before the end of the day. I’m not thrilled about it, but I know part of the class is enthusiasm. If I hide at the back and am obviously scared of the torch, he might not pass me. We practice using an oxyacetyl torch to cut a 6 inch long piece of steel flatbar in half, then weld it back together. It helps that there’s only 2 torches for the 12 of us, so there’s a decent amount of time to psych myself up and I’m not expected to be on the torch for long.

It also doesn’t help that I have no proper work pants. These pants are fine for work, but they’re thin and I can feel sparks thru them. My other pair of pants are my Spanx jeans that are 8 percent Elastine, so they’ll probably go up like a Roman candle if I get any hot metal on them. Hanuman offered me his jeans, but then he slept in ’til 8 and I had to leave at 8 cuz the welding class starts at 8:30 for some reason.

I’m starting to feel like no one is on my side. I have some of the tools I need for school… in Kevin’s locker, which I still haven’t been able to get in to since I got back. I suppose I could buy new ones, but then I’d have 2 for no reason. Or borrow Hanuman’s, but I’m just frustrated. I’ve been trying to chase everyone down for my birthday party and no one’s really been helpful in telling me their availability. Trying to chase down Jody for Trivia night. K, the other night. Rosemary emailed me to remind me that I agreed to give a speech to her club via Zoom, so I have to find my notes for that as well.

I click to leave the Discord forum. I’m so tired.

The dread and emotions finally overwhelm me. I sneak through the apartment, fighting off tears, close the door behind me and slump on the bed, defeated. My phone is buried somewhere in the sheets. I watch the colours shift across the sky.

Could I lay here forever? Could I just not get up again?

Finally I manage to check my phone. 7 PM. I just stared out the window for 3 hours.

I don’t feel hungry, but I should eat something. Shower.

It would be tempting to keep doing nothing and call in to school tomorrow, but I know Hanuman won’t let me be depressed. I have to keep faking being ok.

As I prep food in the kitchen – rice, butter and salt – he seems to smell my depression. “How was school?” He asks, voice thick with concern.

“Fine.” I launch into a story, somewhat robotically but somewhat animated. He’s off the scent. Retreat back to my room.

I feel a bit better after food. I play Minecraft on the computer a bit.

Jeremy notices I’ve left the server first. I feel guilty about that. In my fractured state, I know enough to know I won’t be able to explain to him what I am experiencing, and it will distress him, but I’m too broken to think of what to do about it. I mute him. I email Chris that I won’t be at sailing.

I wake up for school. It’s tempting not to go in, but today is the only day for welding. I imagine Landon would want a good excuse. I file my EI report. It tells me to call the office… again.

There’s little for us to do. We did the bookwork yesterday. We’ve demonstrated we’re capable of lighting the torch and welding in a straight line without hurting ourselves (except Trenton).

Aiden shows us brazing, which we don’t need to learn to do but it’s something to keep us occupied. Brazing is using brass to weld, which is a low temp and is versatile because the brass can fill gaps in your material and be used to weld 2 different metals together. It’s also pretty, leaving behind a golden line. Like the Japanese way of repairing things, Kintsugi.

It occurs to me that everything I do here is free, so if I have any projects to work on I should do them now. Nothing comes to mind, but Bruce comes thru and asks if anyone’s cut out their initials yet. All the boys are cutting and welding in straight lines, but I have a lightbulb. I grab a soapstone and draw my initials on a piece of flatbar, then cut it out.

“What if I want to weld like this?” I ask Aiden, putting them together at a right angle.

“Aha!” He grabs out a welder’s square, an angled magnet to hold them together and resist being damaged or welded to your project. “It’s probably easier to do with the electric arc.”

“But I want it to be brazing!”

“Hm… You can probably do it, actually.” He stands next to me and coaches me thru it.

There. If nothing else, I’ve proven I can weld. All the boys crowd around and it sparks something in them as well. Some of them copy my idea. One kid starts trying to make a sword.

(For the record, you can’t weld a sword together. Welds aren’t capable of resisting that sort of impact, which is why swords are forged as a single piece. This includes the tang, the part of the sword that extends into the handle)

I grind down the burrs on my project but leave most of the uneven bits as they are instead of trying to grind it flat. I like the texture. I like the idea of seeing how far I’ve come.

He has us tear down and rebuild the oxyacetyl torch as another test.

At lunch I call EI again. I’ve called almost every day this week. They finally accept my school code, but then she says the last job hasn’t actually submitted my ROE.

Are you freaking kidding me? And no one mentioned this before now??

I text the accountant. Better file that pronto.

I have a bit of money now. Some of my student funding came in, and my second insurance receipt went thru so whenever that clears I’ll have a bit more, but it’s still nothing when I don’t know how long my EI will take.

I spend an hour fiddling around with the electrical arc simulator in the next room, and talking to Bruce. I like the simulator much better; far reduced chance of lighting myself on fire.

He lets us go around 3. The only thing worse than being depressed is being bored and depressed.

Jeremy invites me over, still trying to be helpful when I am beyond help. I try to explain to him that I am too broke to afford gas, really trying to highlight how hopeless my situation is – because it’s not just gas, it’s also the metal-on-metal shriek of my worn brakes, the fear that every pothole will pop one of my bald tires – and the fact I have too many things to do at my place, but he’s trying to find solutions.

“You could just walk.” He points out.

I mute him again. I’ll have to get well first, I guess.

I spend the evening playing Minecraft and crying randomly. Do I have stuff to do this weekend? I can’t remember. At least I don’t have school Monday, it’s a long weekend.

Times keeps ticking… ticking… ticking…

Oh, I remember why the 26th was important.