(7) One Down, One To Go
As he drove Andrew wondered if the van crash had left its mark after all. Both Hugh and Robert had claimed no damage sustained when asked, but they were tough nuts of long standing and weren’likely to go mushy over bruises. Dennis agreed but pointed to internal bleeding of one kind or another.
Andrew thought of mailmen slipping on ice and then dying at home four hours later after lying down for a nap. Not to mention his very own slip and tumble, netting him three months off work, bouts of dizziness and a peculiar notion that he could read folk’s thoughts. Ah, the Scottish Psychic, Bronwen had reacted, amused. On her way out the door unfortunately. Out of his life, beyond his reach, on her way to the promised land of her off-the-grid dreams. And then, only weeks later, his millions, as if to mock her bare bones rural idyll. Just a whim on buying a Mojo with a Floyd retrospective on the cover. That tiny variety on Charles where he gotten his fix of Lindt chocolate for years.
Hugh hadn’t actually woken up at all, Robert reported glumly. Dennis called in and passed along the information. Touching the prone form he said, Yes he’s quite cool and appears to have only a very faint pulse. They carried him to the car and drove him to the city, where an unmarked black van met them in an alleyway and its two occupants quietly took possession of the corpse, discreetly wrapped in a grey wool blanket. Being a Saturday, not that Andrew noticed until Dennis pointed out their luck, the alley was much freer of delivery vehicles that it would have been normally. Dennis conferred briefly with one of the two man team. Discrete mutters that Andrew could not hear. Their brief exchange sealed with a nod, Dennis and Andrew were backing out and away in seconds. North on University, its wide expanse of avenue speaking of openness and visibility contrasted with their compassionate yet scurrilous activities. Andrew had begged for lattes and they were around Queen’s Park and west on Harbord in no time. Andrew asked about medical teams and morgues for such occasions. Yes, they had their various professionals on retainer. Not that different from any high ranking government official really. Private networks existed parallel to the public ones. Sipping and nibbling at an independent across from one of the majors, they discussed Robert’s chances. He swore he hadn’t banged his head in the crash. Mind you Hugh had said much the same yesterday. A doctor would be out to look him over. Andrew wondered how much good that would do.
It was nine forty five and the Annex was coming to life. They strolled down Bloor enjoying the morning sun. Passing Seekers, Andrew felt that usual twinge of the book collector. Perhaps that long sought after rarity was passing its time quietly inside, just waiting for him to spy it, and of course, buy it.
Dennis stopped to admire the new titles in Book City’s window and Andrew was pleased to join him. A virtual stranger whose life he had sort of saved the day before had just passed on and here they were, constrained by circumstance, to continue the normalcy act. Andrew felt weird, then thought no, more free-floating puzzled. Oh, a new Ian McEwan novel beckoned. Somehow it did not seem appropriate to suck up five copies for gifts, as he now could do on a whim. He glimpsed the six or so unread titles on his bedside table and shifted the consumer guilt to ask Dennis if anything in particular caught his eye.
He pointed at a sumptuous looking coffee table volume on Caravaggio and his contemporaries, and hummed, That looks like a beauty. Andrew promptly offered to purchase it and before Dennis had time to politely decline was inside asking the clerk, a rather obtuse fellow who’d once given him a hard time over the shelf location of that McSweeneys offshoot, Wholphin, to retrieve said item. Bulky, pricey and heavy, but Dennis was charmed, assuring Andrew he would treasure it all his life. They continued their morning constitutional, veering south on Robert and back west to the Central Tech parking lot, admiring the early blooms presenting their spring wares. Had he been a female friend Andrew might have observed that they walked well together, his notion being that that was a rare occurrence, but it seemed an unsettling comment to share with a man, despite his proclivities.
