By Lucy

I woke up early Thursday. I’d decided to rebook my bus ticket, which meant buying a second bus ticket. Well, maybe they would have let me hop on the earlier bus for free, but I wasn’t risking it. I packed quickly in the dark, then headed down to the bus back to town. I grabbed a Timmies and waited.

This bus driver was nice and funny, cracking jokes as we embarked, which was nice.

In contrast to the sunny drive up, it was rainy and misty on the way back. The rivers were all swollen and overrunning their banks from the rain the last few days, plus the snow thaw.

Fortunately, the bus drops us off right in front of the train station, so I head back to Coquitlam.

Janice picked me up at the station and we headed over to Talitha Koum.

I thought Talitha Koum would be a ‘proper’ rehab facility, but it’s just a couple of privately owned houses. I guess the idea is that the girls dry out, and then move into the house, where they start the program. Janice explains that for the first couple of months, they aren’t allowed to have their phones or internet access, to help separate them from their triggers. So the organization tries to make sure their days are jam packed full of activities to distract them, which is what we are doing today.

It’s nice, though. They’re even allowed to keep their kids with them.

As we drive, Janice tells me about one girl at the facility. One thing you’re supposed to do is apologize to people you wronged, and one of the girls admitted she borrowed her grandmother’s credit card to buy a cell phone, then bought three and sold two of them.

“So she said, ‘I should probably apologize to my grandmother, right?’” Janice laughs.

“Indeed.”

With the girls, we’re playing Family Feud. Well, Janice is playing Family Feud. I’m handing out candy to the winners, and tossing out glib remarks. I’m more observer than helper.

After Family Feud, one of the organizers does a little Valentine’s craft with them, and then we serve a fruit cup and some cookies. And listen to their stories. The number of them that has a small child is staggering.

Janice tells us a story about a pet rock she has, named Simon. Apparently she’s had it since she was in her 20’s, and she’d use it to dodge men who wanted to stay over or questioned her living alone. “Oh, I don’t live alone, I live with Simon.”

Around 3:30, Janice drops me off at the train station and I head back downtown. Check into the hostel for the fourth and last time. Pi informs me the kitchen is broken.

Crap! My plan was to buy and cook groceries, this is not going to work!

“What’s your plan for tonight?” Connor texts me, as I’m unpacking in my room. I got the second floor, the room right above the kitchen.

“Oh, relaxing. Trying to figure out dinner. The kitchen broke at the hostel, they’re waiting for the sparky.”

“I’m almost done work, wanna go out for a bite to eat?”

Sure, why not.

Connor says he’ll be there by 5:30, but at 6, he still hasn’t showed. I call him and get voicemail.

“Who is this you are waiting for?” Pi asks, from the front desk.

“I dunno, I’ve never met him before.”

“From a dating app?”

“No, he’s a… friend… of a coworker.” Saying son might ask more questions than I am willing to answer.

“This sounds sketchy.” Pi says.

I mean, maybe, if I didn’t do this all the time. And I’m not afraid of Connor; Eli would kick his ass if he did anything untoward. Although I do start to wonder if Eli is hoping we’ll end up together.

At quarter after 6, Connor finally texts me that he’s here. I go outside to meet him. He looks like Eli, alright, but also not. He’s a bean pole.

We head out in the direction of Granville. “So, how do you know my dad?” He asks. I tell him the story about Eli and the Vagabond. “Oh, so you’re a chippy, too.”

“Yep. Oh, are you as well?”

“Yeah!”

We end up at a Thai restaurant. Order some food; he orders a beer.

The conversation flows pretty naturally. I expected him to be a little reserved, but he claims he had no big falling out with his dad and just fell out of contact, so he holds no hard feelings. I mention my brother and ask him if he has any siblings.

“A half sibling. And you know about Taylor…”

“Oh… actually, I don’t know about Taylor. Eli never wants to talk about it. But I know… about the urn.” Ahem.

“Oh. Well, I’d need another beer to tell you.” He winces.

“That’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

I mean, I knew the gist; she had aplastic anemia, which is one of those diseases that immediately provokes fear in anyone who knows of it. That’s a slow, painful death. And dying in her twenties… that’s rough.

A thought forms in my brain. The Vagabond probably told Eli about my health problems. Is that why Eli bonded to me? Because he sees me as some kind of surrogate daughter, a sick girl who can still be saved? She was only a year older than me.

“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking.” I say.

“30. Since August.”

“Oh shit, we’re the same age.” I laugh. I had some mental image of Connor being in his 40’s, because I keep forgetting Eli is only in his 50’s. He looks so much older, bent over with age, missing most of his teeth. And he keeps talking about retiring next year.

Connor is an interesting case, stumbling under the weight of emotions. He talks a big game about how he wants to settle down, get a 9-to-5 job and a house, and have some kids, but he’s clearly not ready yet.

“What’s my dad like at work?”

“Oh, he annoys everyone. He’ll tell us he’s going for a smoke, then f*ck off for a couple of hours.”

Connor laughs.

“But then he’ll come back and hammer out the job in half an hour, so.” I shrug.

“Really? That is so funny, that sounds like my dad.”

“He’s got a reputation. He, like, lost his marbles a couple of years ago, when your grandmother died.”

He nods, “She was big in the community, super famous.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oh yeah! He didn’t tell you about her? She got all these awards for teaching indigenous studies at Lakehead.” Connor stabs angrily at his food. “But she wouldn’t speak the language around us. Wouldn’t teach her own family.”

“Oh, shit. Generational trauma, huh?”

“Yeah.” He agrees sadly. “Hey, why’d you move to Thunder Bay?”

“The reserve.” I say, without thinking. “I mean… my family is Acadian. Superior reminds me of home. Nova Scotia.”

He snorts. “The reserve! Never thought I’d hear that!”

“Well, yeah…” I tell him about all the indigenous crafts I do, all the supplies I have.

He raises a disbelieving eyebrow, “You sure you’re white, girl?”

I laugh, “Who knows. Raised white, anyway. I ain’t getting status.” After all, settlers taking indigenous wives was fairly common. Pause. Maybe I can do something for Eli. “You know, your dad was super stoked to come and visit you, last year.”

“Yeah?” Connor groans. “That visit was such a shitshow. The car broke down, and my cousin made him come home early…”

While he’s talking, I scroll back through my texts with Eli, “No no, look.”

Connor reads them. His face changes, slowly. “Wow. He was really excited to come to visit.”

Maybe I do have something to offer.

We’re not quite ready to call it a night, so we wander down the road to a bar and order a couple of drinks. We had a plan to play pool, but the pool room upstairs has been taken over for a Valentine’s “Singles” event. No thanks!

Around 10 I call it and head home.

I do not get much sleep that night. There’s a mouse in my room, very noisy. At one point he actually hops up onto my bed! Since there’s no one else in the room, I climb up to the second bed. He’s not climbing that! I’m not scared the mouse will hurt me, I just don’t much fancy getting a hantavirus from one.

After the usual – breakfast, laundry, shower – I walked up to the Nofrills me and Margaret shopped at last year, and bought myself a week’s worth of groceries.

One thing doctors always say; you can’t out-eat a bad diet. No matter how hard you exercise, if you eat poorly, you’ll put on weight and feel terrible.

But then, people have no idea what they are eating. I always laugh at people who pound protein shakes after an hour at the gym., probably just walking on the treadmill. Those things are so full of sugar and useless calories, and they have less protein than just eating meat. Having a couple of eggs with breakfast and a medium chicken breast for lunch is already 100 grams of protein, and you only need 0.8 per pound of body fat (depending on what you are doing). Add in some low calorie, high protein snacks, like unsalted nuts, yogurt, or cottage cheese, and you’ve hit all your protein needs for the day, in a much higher quality way.

Since the kitchen was still broken, I used the air fryer in the dining room to cook up my chicken. Just generally took the day easy.

Saturday I had planned to go down to UBC and walk around. However, it was raining until about 1 in the afternoon, and the botanical garden was closed at 2, so I ended up not going. Instead, I walked up English Bay and around Lost Lagoon.

I’d made vague plans with Connor and Jake to hang out that afternoon, which we hastily rearranged. Jake had suggested a bar on campus, but for some strange reason it’s closed on the weekend! We all met downtown instead.

I arrive at the bar at 6, and wait around for about 10 minutes for Jake. We head inside and grab a table.

“Are you here for the [UFC] fight?” The waitress asks.

“Nope.”

About ten minutes later, Connor shows up. We order a round of drinks, and then some food. Connor and Jake get along well, although it ends up underlining what a nerd Jake is. He looks fairly fit and wears a lot of JCrew, and I have some mental image of him as a jock that doesn’t match reality. He’s got an app to track all the board games he plays!

Despite not being there to watch the fight, we do end up watching the fight, ’cause the bar has it on full blast. It was a pretty pathetic showing, though, lots of hugging and time-outs. I’m not big into UFC, but I do know how to fight.

As we talk and eat and drink, the hostel group chat lights up. Some girl with a Toronto number asks if anyone is doing the ghost tour on Sunday, which I am, so I agree to go with her. She admits, on the chat about the bar crawl, that she’s never had a “proper” alcoholic drink, and she has a Toronto number. Some 19 year old on their first trip away from home.

“You know you have to take her out for a drink after.” Connor says.

“Yeah…” I agree wearily. Sisterhood.

A party shows up, all wearing denim tuxedos. Another crew show up wearing Leafs jersey and frowns. Cannucks are facing the Leafs tonight, that’s bold to show up on home turf in the wrong jersey.

Connor was drunk before he got there, or at least a few beers deep, but he holds his liquor pretty well. He has another 3 before dinner is over. The last time he orders, he mumbles his order and both me and the waitress thought he said mimosa. So I get the free mimosa.

We decide to head to the back and play some pool. There’s only one pool table and it’s occupied, but the guys who are playing are open to taking turns. They’re pretty sloshed, too. 3 guys, 2 brothers, and an Asian woman who doesn’t appear to belong to anyone.

We take turns. I’m not great at pool today, I’m too tired.

Around 10, me and Jake decide to call it.

“Stay for another.” Connor pleads.

“Hah, no. You should call it a night, too. You were drunk before you got here!”

“I mean…” He runs his hand through his hair, “I had a couple of beers when quoting that last job, yeah.” Connor leans in closer, “Come on, one more.”

Hah, nope. Sorry, boys. “I’m pretty tired, man.”

“We should hang out tomorrow. Brunch, at least. You know, my dad told me to show you a good time, he’s paying me back for everything.”

Wow, really? That shouldn’t surprise me, and yet it does. Eli is such a mess of motivations. “Sure.”

“Need me to walk you home?” He smiles crookedly.

“Nope! Get home safe, eh?” Fist bump.

Me and Jake walk down Granville together. He catches the bus at Drake St.

When I get back to the hostel, there’s some stuff on the bed above mine. Another guest? No bags, though.

Half an hour later, as I’m drifting off, I get a random text from Connor. A misdirected text. Connor picked up the Asian girl from the bar.

Jeez, that was fast. And wasn’t she the other guy’s girlfriend? Ladykiller here.

When I wake up around 8, I realize the other 3 beds are occupied. But there was no one staying in the room when I went to sleep! Those drinks hit me hard. It’s rare for me to sleep through anything.

I stumbled to the bathroom. The girl in the room next to me is preparing for the day, in a sour mood. “Those girls were noisy.”

“What, the ones in my room? They woke you up?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, they got in at like midnight. Did you not wake up?”

“Apparently not.” Maybe I should have mimosas before bed more often (not).

While I was hanging out in the dining room, I got asked if I worked for the hostel. Supposedly I dress too professionally.

Around 1, I met Connor for brunch. He was visibly hungover and trying to pretend he wasn’t, so I force-fed him a bunch of water and made him order something sweet off the menu to get his blood sugar up.

After brunch, we went on a wander around town, ending up at the Vancouver lookout. It’s just a tall building that has a glass elevator and a 360 degree window at the top, so you can walk around and check out the city. It’s a waste of money, but since Eli was paying us back, why not? We did learn a few things about the city that we would never have learned otherwise, like that a building the next block over, the Dominion building, was the tallest building in the British empire when it was built. 53 meters in 1910.

That’s really wild, isn’t it? Anyone who’s been alive for 80 years has seen things.

We wandered around Chinatown and Gastown a bit, but Connor was visibly flagging from his hangover, so I sent him home and walked back to the hostel.

Made myself carbonara in the rice cooker. They really shouldn’t be allowed to charge us full price if we can’t use the kitchen!

Around 6:30, I gathered up the girls and headed down to Gastown for the ghost tour. Sarah is my age and Australian. Sasha is barely 19 – she turned 19 this past December – and on her first trip alone. She’s a big bundle of nerves, on top of having ADHD and some other comorbidities, but it’s endearing.

The ghost tour host is a theatre major who’s been doing it for 40 years. He lets us in on a secret; the Gastown steam clock is less than 30 years old!

Gastown is so-named for Gassy Jack. When Vancouver was just a collection of saw mills, producing lumber for export, John Deighton saw an opportunity to strike it rich by opening a bar within walking distance of the mills. His first wife was Squamish, and when she died, he married her 12 year old niece, Quahail-ya. After a few years, she tired of his abuse and left and went back to Squamish, where she became a leader for her people.

The tour guide proudly notes there is no memorials for Gassy Jake, although I point out that calling it Gastown is a pretty effective memorial. Also, there used to be a statue of him, but it was torn down a few years ago in protest, and no one could be bothered to put it back up.

Still no statue of Quahail-ya, though.

In 1886, Gastown burned to the ground in an inferno, which was fairly common for cities at the time. Google any city and “great fire” and you’ll usually find at least one. Hell, the Great Fire of London was so intense, any archeological digs in the city find a thick layer of ash to date it.

After the tour is over – it’s about an hour and a half – we wander over to the Black Frog for Sasha’s first drink!

Me and Sarah are not great options for a first drink. Both of us are hard drinkers, for one. We order some food and a first round; I ordered an Appletini for Sasha and paid for it. Then Happy Hour kicked in, and we ordered a round of picklebacks. One drink, one shot, that’s the way! Sasha fought us a lot on the pickleback, because hard liquor “burns”, until she eventually admitted she’s done a Screech-In. Hah! Once you’ve tried Screech, everything else is easier.

Sarah had three drinks and tried to convince us to stay for more, but I insisted we head out. We’re not trying to scar the girl, and Sasha doesn’t really seem interested in drinking. Which is good. Don’t start.

I’ve acquired a mini-me.

My suspicion was first piqued when Sasha joined me for breakfast. I asked her what plans she had for the day; basically none. She made herself breakfast, then sat with me in silence while I wrote and watched the Youtube videos I wanted to catch up on. She asked me if I know Hazbin Hotel, which turned into a discussion about all the questionable media we consume, like “Kill the Princess”.

Around 10, Sarah showed up. We all chatted for a bit; Sarah had plans for the day, and eventually left. Around 11, I decided to head out. I shouldn’t go clothes shopping after lunch, I might be bloated.

Sasha agreed to join me, so we wandered down to Wildlife Thrift. They had a few options there, but nothing that really grabbed me, beyond the doo-woop dress that did not scream Thailand but looked really good on me. Well, it was a nice light dress. That counts.

We went to Value Village and had slightly better luck, but they don’t have a change room, and I’m not spending 20 bucks on a pair of pants that might not fit.

Back to the hostel, made lunch. The stove still isn’t working, so I boiled the pasta in the rice cooker and made the sauce in the air fryer. I can imagine every Italian I know weeping and rending their shirts, but desperate times!

At 2, I settled down for my Zoom call with Rotary. We’d agreed to 6PM, but the email I got said 5, so I assumed it had changed and no one had told me.

Nope! It’s just because Brian is in Central Time and forgot. Logged off and waited an hour. Logged back in.

The meeting was slightly productive. Brian admitted the allocations committee is usually a bunch of old rich white men, which is why he invited all the younger and ethnic members this time. Which is good of him. I connected with Roopa, who works for Tapestry, and we workshopped ideas for running something like Bea’s Kloset in Thunder Bay.

It was movie night at the hostel. Fawzi was planning on playing How to Train Your Dragon 2 because a bunch of people requested it, but none of them showed up, so we convinced him to put on Renfield. Sarah came back, and a couple of other guests at the hostel joined us as well. After the movie, he had ChatGPT make some trivia questions about the movie, but with my memory and the fact I’ve watched the movie 3 times now, no one else had a chance. I even answered a few questions wrong to try and even the odds! He gave me a branded water bottle as the prize, which was pretty mint! I was expecting some trashy plastic bottle, but it’s quality.

After the movie was over, Sasha wanted to watch the second season of Hazbin Hotel, as she hadn’t watched it yet. She suggested we watch it in her room as her roommate wasn’t back yet.

As we settled in on her bed, she gave me the pillow to have behind my back, and then cuddled into my side.

Alrighty then. That’s not to say you can’t have totally platonic cuddling, or that it wasn’t understandable for a girl in a strange place to want some physical closeness, but I felt like it was more than that. I had a feeling that she was attracted to me, but I couldn’t quantify it, and more importantly, I didn’t think that would be the “right” thing to encourage. So I said nothing, while also coming up with ways to decline if it was asked.

We got through three episodes and then I called it a night, before I fell asleep in her bed. It was kind of tempting, though, just to not be alone.

I woke up to mouse poop on my mattress.

I better not get hantavirus from this.

When I walked past the front desk, Pi said, “You have a little friend, eh?”

Time for final preparations. Buying more stuff – like extra Metamucil – and shipping my heavy clothes back to Thunder Bay. After lunch, I suggested to Connor that he might join me for a walk, but he was busy.

Sasha followed me around the block. I told her my plan was to hop on a bus and head to Lighthouse park, which is over by Horseshoe Bay, and is one of the last places in the city to find “old growth forest”. She agreed and we ended up running for the bus because I accidentally walked past the stop.

“Can I ask you a deeply personal question?” Sasha asks. “You don’t have to answer it!”

I laugh, “On the bus?”

“Ah… right.”

“The next stop is ours.” I point out.

We get off at Beacon Lane. The vibe is much different; you definitely feel like you’re in a rainforest. Rich people live here, their fancy properties ringed with high walls, covered in moss and lichens, dripping from the mist. They close on the road claustrophobically; there isn’t even a sidewalk. I have Sasha walk next to the wall, and I walk in the road; if nothing else, I have the bright yellow backpack.

“So, what is your question?”

“Oh… Are you… a member of the LGBTQIA+ community?”

“Ah.” I was right about the attraction to me, wasn’t I? “Yes, I am pan. Some people call me trans, too. Since I’m non-binary.”

“I thought so! I just had a feeling, you know?”

“And you are?”

“I’m a lesbian.” She exclaims happily.

“Are your parents ok with that?”

“Oh, yes. My mother knew before I did.”

“So, richie rich, which private school did you go to for high school?” I asked.

“How do you know that?” She asked incredulously.

“I know the street you mentioned the other day. Only rich people live there.”

“I mean…. I’m not rich! My parents are… Hudson College.” She admitted, finally, hanging her head.

“Hey, I’m not judging. I was born with a silver spoon too.” I tussled her hair.

Lighthouse Park is so named because there is a lighthouse on it. There also used to be a military base, which is probably the real reason the land there is protected. Both still exist on the far side of the park. There’s several kilometers of trails crisscrossing it, but you can do the loop around the shore fairly easily and quickly, less than a couple of hours.

I really wanted to do the park because it’s some of the oldest trees in Vancouver, 500 years old. That said, the ol red cedars can get much older and larger.

Me and Sasha took our time, stopping to take pictures and talk about things. She was really enjoying the hike; I think she needed to get out of the city as well.

At Starboat Cove, I took off my pounamu necklace and dipped it in the ocean.

We got stuck in rush hour traffic on the way back to the hostel. I made the decision to jump off the bus on Denman and go to Chung Chun’s for Korean corn dogs.

As we stood in Chung Chun’s waiting for our food, I asked, “Do your parents make you bao?”

Sasha stared at me for a minute before replying, “I told you, I was adopted.”

Crap, when was that? After a long time, my mind dragged the memory back, from the drinking after the ghost tour. “Shit, I’m sorry.” Awkward laugh, “I mean, maybe you got adopted by Chinese parents?”

“Nope. They’re German.”

“That must be awkward. Do you feel lost between two cultures?”

“A bit.” She looked away, “They found me in December. Abandoned outside a school during the one child policy. So that’s why my birthday is in December. They don’t actually know how old I am.”

My mind spun as I tried to think of something not insensitive to say, something that wasn’t prying. “Does that… bother you?”

“Sometimes.”

I was saved by the arrival of our food.

In the evening, we watched the rest of Hazbin Hotel. Then the Live on Broadway.

The next morning was pretty chill. One last load of laundry. Pack up my bag. Sort through my food.

When I go to check out, Pi says, “What? No, you can’t! We’ll miss you too much!”

“I have to, my flight is tonight.” I’ll miss them too.

“Oh! Where are you going?”

“Thailand.”

“Ah, Thailand! First thing you’ll see of the plane is ladyboys!” He says, with a huge grin.

Alrighty, weirdo.

I spent the morning and the early afternoon at the hostel; I didn’t want to go out when I was anxious about the flight. We picked up our conversation from the evening before and Sasha apologized for basically using me as a therapist, but I don’t mind. I remember what it was like to be 19, lost and lonely.

Around 3, Sasha left to try rock climbing.

I probably could have stayed longer, but around 5 I opted to head out.

Off to the airport.

No turning back.

Riding the train back to YVR, I remember how impressed I was by the Skytrain when I first got here. Now it’s just like the TTC to me; crowded, dirty and slow.

I get through security with little fuss. I don’t even have to unpack my bottles or my electronics. Someone else’s backpack breaks the scanner this time.

Now for dinner!

There’s a Salmon N Bannock place here! I immediately go over there. Salmon chowder and bannock, please! He forgets to ring up my sweetgrass apple cider and gives me an extra slice of bannock because I’m visibly vibrating with excitement.

Once I finish eating, I head over to the gate.

My guts are all messed up from anxiety. I try pacing, chewing gum, eventually finding a place to lay down to try and relax it. Eventually I am force to go to the bathroom and remove my bra. I’m not sure why, but some times my guts refuse to relax while I’m wearing a bra, which is annoying and nonsensical.

One of the kids waiting to board my plane is absolutely losing his mind, crying and screaming.

“Now boarding for Air Canada flight AC19 to Singapore!”

Gulp.