Foul Language

I didn't really have a destination in mind other than the Coast, so I just kept driving. When I got there, I toured around Vancouver and the general area and while it was nice, it was just another big city in a spectacular setting. I didn't see many places I wanted to live and when I did, they were usually obscenely expensive or in some silly subdivision with huge houses on postage stamp sized lots. If that was what I wanted, I could have stayed in Toronto. I knew I wanted to be near the water and I knew that it would be more expensive, so in the end, I took the ferry to Vancouver Island and started my search there.

When I got to Courtenay and the Comox Valley, I knew I had found what I was looking for. Georgia Strait on one side and Mount Washington on the other. The area was developed, but not extremely so and the lot sizes were considerably bigger than the city areas of Vancouver and Victoria. There were hills to the west that provided a great view of the Strait and yet the area wasn't heavily populated. It had all the services including hospital, shopping centre and liquor store. It was just the place to start my search.

I shacked up at a local motel and dropped into a well known international Real Estate office the next morning. I chatted with a smart looking woman and outlined what I was looking for. She was a good looking woman of about my age and I idly wonder what she'd be like in the sack. In the meantime, I had told her what I wanted and I was pretty specific. I had it all written out on my new laptop and I had her print it out so that she would have a copy as well. She said she'd call me the next day and I gave her my cell number.

Donna Remple called as promised about ten the next morning and I drove over to her office and we were off to see a few houses that she had pulled from the MLS. I hadn't given her tight money guidelines, so there should have been a pretty good range to look at. There should have been, but when we pulled up in front of the first place, I looked at it and then I looked at her.

"Donna, what part of my description does this house fit besides single family dwelling?" I asked in a level voice.

"Why, what do you mean?" she asked.

"I told you I wanted a single level house and this is a two storey. I told you I wanted a view of the Gulf and this has none. I told you I wanted a decent sized lot to give me some privacy and this lot is so skinny I can sit on the can, reach out the window and touch the neighbor's house. That's what I mean!" I said in an unmistakable tone.

"Well, we had to start somewhere. I just thought I would show this to you to see what you thought." she said somewhat meekly.

"Well, now you know what I think. Don't waste my time! If you don't have something to show me, then don't bother. I wrote it all down so that you wouldn't have to remember anything. Do you understand me?" I asked in a more aggressive tone.

"Yes ... of course ... I'm sorry. I'll try and do better." she said with a bit of frightened look on her face.

I had learned early on that my angry, forceful personality got results when people were trying to fuck me around or weren't paying attention. I used it to remind them that I was the customer and I had options. I didn't swear all the time, just when I was sure it would convey a particular message in the very particular way. I also learned that I no longer cared about people's sensitivities. I was tired of tip-toeing around things when the direct approach usually was more immediately effective. I was on permanent strike against Political Correctness. I was going to call a spade a fuckin' shovel.

It took Donna a couple of days to figure out exactly what I wanted, but she finally found a couple of places that I was interested in. She almost didn't show me the house I eventually bought. It was a log cabin on a big lot, tucked back in the woods, but with a nice eastern view over the gulf toward the mainland mountains. It wasn't very big; about 1500 square feet, and it wasn't in great shape, but it had what I wanted. It was private, it was all on one level, it had a view, it could be upgraded easily and it wasn't twenty minutes from town. It didn't have a basement, but it had a barn-like outbuilding at one end of the driveway that I could use as a garage as well as a workshop. I took a good survey of if with my engineer's eye and told Donna to make an offer.

It had been on the market several months with no interest until I came along. I was an estate sale and I figured it would take at least $50,000 to bring it up to scratch before I started to install my special features. It was listed at $350,000 but I instructed Donna to offer $315,000 and see what happened. She seemed a little reluctant but once again I used my forceful nature to make sure she understood what I wanted from her. She put the offer in and we waited for a response. It would take a little longer than dealing with a live person, but surprisingly we got a response late the next day. Our offer was accepted providing there were no subjects and it was an all cash deal.

I grinned at Donna as if to say "I told you so!" and we signed on the dotted line. I now owned a home and I had to get going to put it in livable shape. That would take a couple of months, but luckily, I was only out of the house during the renovations for a total of a week during the drywall and painting phase. I had heard plenty of horror stories about renovators back in Ontario and in fact, one guy made a living with a TV show that pointed out and repaired all the fuck-ups by the assholes who pretended they knew what they were doing. When I hired the contractor, I wrote the contract and had him sign it. I also told him that as I had the time and as I was an engineer, I would be on the site every day. I didn't want him thinking he could fool me with shortcuts and shoddy workmanship.

Chapter Five: My New World

I moved into my new house in early July and got to spend a glorious summer in my new digs. Every day, giant cruise ships passed in front of me and the Gulf was alive with sailboats, cruisers and the like. I celebrated a summer of great weather that lasted all the way until the end of September and despite my loneliness, I truly enjoyed it. There were Bald Eagles in the trees nearby as well as deer, raccoons and the occasional bear that wandered by the house. I had to learn to secure the garbage, since there was no pickup and the bears were pretty clever about busting into most canisters. I stymied them by building a wooden shed just for the garbage that would give them more of a challenge than they could cope with.

During the next year I began to install my own particular needs in my home. First, the solar panels on the roof to look after heating water and a secondary supply of electricity. Second, a proper generator equipped with automatic start when the power went out. We were in an area where power supply was problematic and I didn't want to rely on Hydro. My cell phone was marginal in that location so I broke down and bought a satellite phone. It was expensive to use, but I could use it anywhere in the world. I set up my own satellite receiving system for both television and my computer. I lived by the internet and I wanted something that I could rely upon. I set up my own composting system to look after as much waste as I could; the rest of which I would take to the dump when the need arose.

I had completely redone the insulation and windows in the house with the original renovation, but I wanted a better heating system. I decided to use a combination of hot water from the tank supplied by the solar panels and a wood fireplace in the living room that would effectively heat the whole front of the house when necessary. I had a couple of portable electric heaters for individual areas if needed. The gas range and oven in the kitchen were already set up for propane and I could look after filling those tanks myself. The fridge, freezer and microwave drew little power on their own.

I had used my engineering knowhow to make the place as self sufficient and energy efficient as possible. I wanted to have as little to do with supplied services as possible and I felt like I had accomplished that. I had considered a bio-diesel powered generator, but they weren't readily available yet and I didn't feel like being a guinea pig for their development. Inadvertently, or perhaps unconsciously, I had set myself up to be a recluse. I would never admit to it, but that was the result.

Chapter Six: What The Fuck Do You Want?

I had calmed down from my encounter with that pig of a meter maid and the cop and I had made myself a typical summer lunch of a sandwich and a beer. I had built a big cedar deck adjacent to my front entrance and from there I had a magnificent view of the Gulf, the mainland mountains and everything that passed by. This afternoon I watched the ferry making its way toward Comox from Powell River and a couple of big Yankee yachts heading north, probably destined for Desolation Sound. I had my ten power binoculars on the table and I could usually get a good enough look at anything to figure out what they were and where they came from. The Alaska cruise ships would show up just before or at sundown at this time of the year.

I'd finished my beer and put my head back on the fancy deck chair that I'd treated myself to last year and closed my eyes. The big hemlocks and cedars off to the south would shield me from most of the sun in an hour or two and until then, I'd rely on the sun block I'd slapped on a few minutes earlier and the tilt umbrella in the center of the table. It was warm and it didn't take me long to drift off.

I awoke with a start and it took me a couple of seconds to orientate myself and realize why I had jumped like that. It was my conscious mind that reminded me that I had heard a twig or a branch snap and then I recognized the sound of a car coming up my private road. It was at least a hundred meters to the town road and with the hill and the bend, I couldn't see what was coming until it was within a few meters of the house.

It was a late model compact, white in colour and I suppose it had tinted windows because I couldn't see who was driving. I was about to get up when the driver's door swung open and out stepped my ex-wife Joyce. To say I was surprised was the least of it. I must have dropped back into the chair and just stared at her. I didn't say a thing or move a muscle as she began to slowly walk toward me.

"Hello, Geoff." she said quietly. She looked nervous and uncertain and I suppose she should be. We hadn't parted on the best of terms and we had had no communications of any kind, written or spoken, since the divorce. The thought passed through my mind that she'd found out about the patent and she was here to get "her share". She'd get that when her fuckin' Swami walked on water.

"What the fuck do you want?" I asked in a snarl.

"I see you're still the same loveable old Geoff." she said without a smile.

"Cut the bullshit Joyce, what the fuck do you want?" I repeated.

"Family business." she answered simply. She must have been looking around for a place to sit down, but I had the only chair on the deck and I wasn't moving. I would keep her on the defensive for as long as I could.

"Do you suppose you could get me a chair?" she finally asked.

I didn't answer but gave her a disgusted look and slowly got up to find another chair. There was another in the spare bedroom, but it hadn't been used yet this year, so I took a towel from the bathroom and wiped the dust of it as I returned to the deck. I should have made her do it, I thought. I was being entirely too polite. I opened the chair and set it down on the opposite side of the table from me and returned to my chair.

"What family business?" I began.

"Your children want to know what's happened to you. You disappeared and they haven't heard anything from you. I had to hire an agency to find you." she said with a slightly cross tone.

"What do they want with me? Rick's got his own life someplace in god-knows-where and Kirsten's in some fuckin' commune in the Rockies smokin' dope just like her old lady did." I said with a sneer.

"Rick is in Alberta and has been for weeks. Kirsten left the commune and runs a day care centre in Calgary. She doesn't do dope and she never did."

"Unlike her mother." I snapped.

"Do you hate them as much as you hate me?" she asked.

"No ... no ... I don't hate them. I thought you had turned them against me though. You were really out in outer space and I had no idea what you told them but they seemed to think it was all my fault and I just said "fuck it" and quit bothering them."

"I never turned them against you. You were so angry they couldn't talk to you. You actually frightened Kirsten. She was afraid you were going to do something violent. And Beverly; she was so upset she forbid Rick from letting you talk to your grandchildren. That's how bad it was Geoff."

"Too fuckin' bad. I don't need their approval. Let 'em suck up to you." I spat.

"What is the matter with you? Are you going to live the rest of your life with all this hate for me bottled up inside of you? You won't live past sixty if you do. It'll eat you alive." she almost shouted at me.

I looked in her eyes and for a second, I thought I could see a flicker of fear. Why did she care about me? She had flushed me away like a used tampon and now she was telling me she was worried about me? What's wrong with this picture?

"Joyce ... why do you care? You didn't care two years ago. Why do you give a fuck what happens to me?" I asked, still baffled by this visit.

She didn't answer me. She stood up and walked around the deck and looked out over the eastern view and seemed to be lost in her thoughts. I just shut up and let her compose herself. There was something she needed to tell me, but she didn't quite know how. I had a hunch what it might be, but even then, I wasn't sure. Maybe I just wanted to be right.

Finally, she turned and looked at me; leaning against the railing. "You have a beautiful home Geoff. The view is wonderful. It must be quite something to see at sunset." she said with a slight smile.

"Sunrise." I said. "You're looking east. It's the sunrise that's the most special. Sunset is behind the mountain." I offered calmly pointing over my shoulder and the mountain behind me.

"Oh. How did you find this place?" she asked as she walked slowly back toward the table.

"I kept looking until I found what I wanted and I bought it." I said simply.

"Where are you working ... out of this home?" she asked, placing both hands on the back of the deck chair.

"I'm retired. I don't work anywhere."

"Really? I'm surprised. I though that you would need to ... I mean ... how could you afford this?" She finally asked the question I know had been on her mind for a while. She could see that this wasn't some lonely log cabin in the woods.

"You mean, how could I afford this after your cunt lawyer Claire got finished with me? Is that what you mean Joyce?" I snapped.

"I didn't realize how nasty she had been until it was too late. I should have stopped her. I didn't want to cripple you ... I just wanted what was mine." she said apologetically.

"Well that my have been what you wanted, but Claire wanted my balls in her trophy case. She fuckin' near got them too." I said calmly.

"So how did you manage to buy this place?" she asked again.

"None of your fuckin' business!" I spat.

She had a look of shock on her face and was about to say something and then must have thought better of it and just turned back to the rail of the deck. I looked at her and I couldn't figure out what this was all about. Had she come three thousand miles to tell me my kids wanted to hear from me? She paid someone to find me. She could have written a letter and not have to go through this emotional gauntlet I had pushed her into. I was still curious. I was sure there was more too this than I thought.

I finally decided it was my turn to play twenty questions. "So Joyce, where are you living?" I began.

"In Calgary. I wanted to be closer to the kids. I'm a partner with Kirsten in the day care centre."

"Well, surprise, surprise!" I laughed. "You ... with a bunch of rug rats? That'd be a hoot to see."

"It's very rewarding. It was what I should have been doing all along, I think." she said thoughtfully.

"So when did you quit your job at whatchamacallit Insurance?"

"Right after ... right after the divorce. I couldn't face them anymore. I didn't have the stomach for it." she admitted quietly.

"What couldn't you stomach?" I asked.

"I was the only one that bought into his ... philosophy. Everyone else laughed it off except me. I bought it ... hook, line and sinker." she said with downcast eyes.

"Well, well ...just how did you figure that out?" I think I was grinning at the time.

"He wanted me to help him recruit customers. That's what he called them ... customers. It was just a business. He thought I would be a perfect salesperson for him." she admitted.

"Ha!" I exulted. "So you smoke his dope, you suck his cock and then he wants to be your pimp. Have I got it right?" I sneered.

"For god's sake, Geoff!" she spat. I did not suck his cock as you so elegantly put it. I did not have sex with him." She couldn't have been more adamant and I had to accept that she was telling the truth.

"Well, girl, it was just a matter of time. He had you right where he wanted you." I laughed without humour.

"Possibly, but I never gave him the chance. I may have been stupid and naïve, but as soon as he started on me about selling his services, I was out of there."

"Jesus, Joyce. What did I tell you when you came home and told me about this dick-wad and his great self-actualization scam?"

"I know, I know ... I was stupid. I should have listened to you but I was ... vulnerable. I was ready for someone like him to latch onto." she finally confessed.

"Yah ... I'll bet. Your faithful husband of thirty one years was just an insensitive male chauvinist pig and wouldn't be smart enough to understand your needs." I was back to sneering again.

"No ... no! It wasn't like that. I was going through some problems at the time. Problems I couldn't talk to you about. He just caught me when I was down and needed something that might pull me back up again." she said with a sorrowful look. "I really believed his philosophy at first. Too late, I learned the truth. It was just a business with a sales pitch designed for stupid or vulnerable women."

"Oh God, Joyce ... ," I exhaled finally. "I wish you hadn't told me all this. When I think of the thousand times I tried to figure out what I'd done wrong or what I might have done to put a stop to it all ... I nearly went crazy." I admitted.

"It gets worse." she said quietly. "I knew the divorce as a mistake and I tried to stop it but Claire wouldn't let me. She said I was just having typical second thoughts and anyway the damage had been done. She was very forceful and I guess I let her bully me into going through with it."

"Yah ... I can see that. If your Swami pal could get you to do what you did, I don't suppose it was too difficult for that bitch to push you whichever way she wanted." I said with no sense of comfort.

Joyce sat down in the chair again and we just sat quietly for a little while.

"So here we are Joyce." I said finally. "Two lives completely and totally fucked up beyond all recognition. Isn't life grand!" I said in a resigned voice.

"It doesn't have to be that way, Geoff." she said, almost shyly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snapped.

"I mean ... we can start over. We can put it back together." She said it as if she was almost afraid to speak the words.