THE GATES OF HAVEN: HEART'S HOME

CHAPTER 1

"Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of heaven."

~ John Bunyan, "The Pilgrim's Progress"

If you spend your entire life dreaming of leaving home, then can you really call it that? Is it possible to create your own definition of the word? Does it make you a bad person to abandon everyone and everything you love to pursue your one wish?

***

"Toronto, huh?"

Mike's shoulders were slouched forward as he stuffed his fists into his jean pockets and stared downward at his flopping size-thirteen Converses hitting the rubbled road. I closed my eyes, the setting sun warm on my back, while the steep incline of River Street pulled me down toward Port Arthur. The usual sounds of gulls, crickets and cars surrounded us, along with the occasional squeal of delight from a child in a nearby park. These noises changed to a low, industrial hum once we got closer to the lakefront. The familiar smell of wood chips and pine made me smile. I opened my eyes to gaze at the Sleeping Giant's head, showing just beyond one end of the paper mill.

"You knew it was coming," I said. "I'm nineteen. Mum can't say anything about my leaving anymore."

I glanced over at Mike's scowl and guilt made my stomach turn. I'd been putting off telling him that I was headed south for months, and now I was leaving in a week. Listening to him complain all summer, however, wasn't an option. Mike was a good guy, a brother of sorts. Our mothers were also close friends.

"Would've been nice to have had some warning."

He continued to grumble the rest of the way home, so I tuned him out and focused on what I needed to do to finish packing for the trip. With the waits at bus stops and train stations, it was going to be almost two days before I'd finally get there. I couldn't afford to fly. This pain-in-the-ass long way down was a fraction of the cost of a plane ticket. I didn't want to be packing too heavy since I'd have to lug whatever I took with me around the city. I grinned at the thought of it.

As we arrived at the bottom of River Street and headed across Cumberland, Mike continued to complain, and it confirmed for me that I'd made the right decision in waiting until the last minute to tell him. I couldn't have handled a whole bloody summer of this. Once we got closer to home, however, his grunts and groans became mutterings under his breath. He was always respectful of my mum. She demanded nothing less, and Mike was as much her son as I was.

Mum and I lived in a narrow house in the "downtown" core of Port Arthur. It was about as small as it could get and still legally be called a two-bedroom detach. Even the bathroom was so cramped that you had to stand between the wall and the toilet to close the door. It did have a certain charm, though. It was painted in Mum's favourite deep royal blue, and Hank, our neighbourhood handyman, kept the white trim like new. The term "downtown" had to be used loosely because the area consisted mostly of warehouses and the bus terminal. What was sad about it all was that, for me, it was comfortable. Something I'd gotten used to. I hated the dirty streets and the run-down state of this city, but I also knew that if I stayed any longer, I'd probably become as permanent as the graffiti on the walls of the local variety store. It's possible that this place had once been nice, but it was as if someone just gave up one day, and now it was worn out and gross. Don't get me wrong, not all of Thunder Bay was like that. Fort William had huge evergreen trees, and the university area was beautiful, but the whole city felt stifling to me, like a blanket on a hot day. My mouth twitched and my knees wobbled as I thought of the days ahead.

I wasn't surprised to see an unknown car parked outside when we arrived. Mum didn't have a car, but because I was headed south, she'd been showing the place to students looking to rent a room. Girls from all over were coming to view the room I was soon to vacate. This had made for a very interesting couple of weeks. While I couldn't put a whole lot of stock in girls who would willingly come to Thunder Bay, it was fun to meet and greet with this or that girl from out of town. I was more than happy to play tour guide, especially if she was cute.