(14) Setting The Controls For The Heart Of The Labyrinth
He awoke with a head full of dreams and a brain full of half-assed analysis. All propelled by anxiety, he suspected. It was after twelve when he rose and checked. That couch sure was comfortable. Like a true bookworm of long standing, he washed up, did the toothpaste thing and fell into bed with another book, something a little lighter. Alexander McCall Smith’s The Right Attitude To Rain, possibly the most apt Scottish title yet. Within moments Smith had once again charmed his socks off, not that he had any on, but still. The unannointed king of the meandering narrative, Andrew decided.
He had not, as yet, checked the time, so when the phone rang he puzzled over whether he might have slept in. Surely he hadn’t missed Randy’s train? No, he hadn’t. Benazir hadn’t realized, in all the excitement, that Asha would need a ride to work. Of course Andrew could do it, no problem. He dressed for the day and found time, despite the rush, to schedule a coffee and bagel between dropping his first passenger and picking up his second, and see the perfect symmetry of Asha in the morning and the quest for lost innocence in the afternoon. A poetic pattern that pleased him as he sipped and nibbled in Bean There with the morning crowd filtering in. After a childhood of being reminded not to rush his food, and a season with Bronwen doing much the same when she wasn’t daintily suppressing burps, he obeyed the absent ladies, telling himself he was practicing conscious eating and repressing the inner giggle.
Randy was right on time, and seemed as he said, up for an adventure. As he had already breakfasted, albeit minimally, they headed west without further delay. Not that there was any delay to begin with. The highway had one of those friendly flows to it, cruising was effortless. If he’d been alone he’d have slipped in some live Floyd to the cd player and let her rip, but Randy had not declared himself on the issue, and there was nothing which inconvenienced Andrew more than someone dissing the Floyd. On such occasions he was usually inclined to rendering the offender mute with a rapid chop to the throat, but always refrained as he hadn’t a clue how to execute the manoeuvre. Leonard Cohen’s line about torn at everyone who reached out for me also had a habit of rattling around. He pulled out a Paul Simon cd and waved it to Randy, who nodded agreeably.
America’s troubadour of the twentieth century serenaded them all the way to Stoney Creek, where they stopped to nosh and regroup. Sounded vaguely military, Randy grinned, but what the heck, he guessed they should make some kind of plan. Over burgers and milk shakes Andrew suggested his impulse to search must seem kind of rag-tag. Randy admitted that doing something, anything, was perhaps a bit crazy. But crazy sometimes turned out to be smart. He’d been there before, the guy who’d been told to smarten up by someone superior, only to discover his rash move would have been just the right one. He wiped some mayonnaise from his mouth and grinned a victory grin. Andrew thought of some TTC supervisors he’d liked to have clocked, but decided to save it for later, when he had a hunch he might be able to use it. And he did use it, but not in the way he expected. Half expected.
Randy agreed, just roaming around, using their horse sense on side roads and driveways, would be useful. Pinpointing the source was not eradicating it, not by a long shot, but it was a positive move. Andrew admitted a sense of hopelessness loitering around behind his brave intent. How many driveways leading through impenetrable bush might they see today? Ten? Twenty? Randy chuckled. He called it layers of the onion. You were always peeling back and finding more. Every elaborate operation had those layers. Andrew quoted, “the fly is on the leaf, the leaf is on the tree, the tree is in the soil and the soil makes up the land”. Randy nodded, yeah like that. It had amused Andrew to make it up on the spot, something about Randy made him want to get one up on him. He’d figure it out later. Right now, he wanted to be like John Wayne, socking psychology on the jaw.
