The Devil's Bargain Ch. 15

I didn't think that Kayla was going to be easy to reach, but she was a much tougher nut to crack than I'd expected. The main problem was the number of subjects she just didn't want to talk about: her family, her home, college, her friends, her teeth, or the traumatic event in her past that had to be somehow connected to some - or all - of those topics. Kayla was somewhat like Gabrielle, except that I had a feeling her secrets were much worse.

We talked about the restaurant, and compared it to her workplace. I asked about her impressions of Guelph. But Kayla turned the dating tables on me by asking me questions. She wanted to know why I was with Tansa, of course. I assured her that it was all confidential - just as private as her own dealings with Tansa.

She got me talking about my life before my own bargain. That wasn't what we were there for, but it seemed to be safer ground. She even volunteered a few stories from her own childhood and youth - though I did notice that none of them dated from any later than high school.

I ended up doing most of the talking, which was obviously what she wanted. I didn't feel that we were all that much closer - she certainly wasn't ready to open up to me. But we'd made one important step: I'd showed up. Kayla knew what town I lived in, now, so she also knew that I'd driven two hours (one way) just to see her.

We made plans for a third date. I walked Kayla to the door of her building. She surprised me by giving me a little peck on the cheek.

For my part, I think I was still happily digesting the fact that Tansa wasn't who I'd thought she was, and that working for her wasn't just about seducing people to the dark side. It wasn't all about sex, either. Since I wasn't doing runs with Terry and Nick, Tansa had me make two more deliveries that I imagine might otherwise have fallen to Matt or Igor.

I was busy, too. I had to move things in the house around, as Alanna advised me on how best to get it ready for showing. Then she put it on the market in mid-July.

Five days later, it sold. Alanna had to cancel the open house she had planned. The second people to see it made an offer: $10,000 more than the asking price. Alanna was ecstatic; I was stunned.

Suddenly, I had a million things to do again. I had to find a place to live. Then I had to downsize; I wasn't going to take even half of the stuff in the house with me. Home inspection, lawyer, Goodwill store ... and Kayla.

I did some research, and went to our third date well prepared. She was happy for me that the house had sold, so quickly and at such a good price. She also wanted to know what kind of place I was going to move to.

- "An apartment." I said. "Maybe a condo. Something where I never have to cut the grass or clean the pool."

- "Did you bring pictures of your house?" she asked, pointing at the laptop I'd placed on the seat next to me.

- "Umm ... no. I wanted to show you ... something else."

I showed Kayla the homepage for Kickstarter. She was amazed (just as I had been). Then I showed her GoFundMe. The first one she saw was for a wife who'd lost her husband and two of her children in a car accident. The woman and one surviving child were still in hospital, and someone had arranged a GoFundMe fund for them. Funeral expenses, medical bills ... people were donating generously. In three days, they'd already been pledged almost $30,000 dollars.

Kayla was no dummy. She soon realized why I was showing her this.

- "Dan," she said, with a trace of anger, "there's no comparison."

- "Check these out. Please - just take a look." I showed her funds for people dealing with cancer, but also projects to preserve or save 'heritage' buildings. "Kayla, you're more important than a stone column."

I had her there. Then I returned her to the Kickstarter page, and showed her how people had pledged tens of thousands of dollars to support writers, game designers, and something that looked like an updated lava lamp.

- "I couldn't do that, Dan." she said.

- "You wouldn't have to, Kayla. I would."

- "What? No - you don't understand. I don't want pictures of my teeth all over the internet."

I didn't want to be brutal, but I had decided to be direct. Otherwise, it might take me a year - or years - to win Kayla's confidence and trust. I figured that she had met with Tansa for a reason. She must want some kind of change in her life.

- "Forgive me, Kayla. I have to tell you the truth. There are probably hundreds, if not thousands of people who have seen your teeth. It's not a secret. And it will take you years - years - to save enough money to fix your teeth. I would offer you that money right now, if I thought that you might accept it."

- "I couldn't."

- "I know. But what if complete strangers - and maybe a few people who know you - wanted to help? Wouldn't that be different?"

- "I don't ..."

- "Why did you meet with Tansa?" I said. "Don't tell me - I don't need to know. But you know."

She fought me. Her arguments were I can't, I don't, and No. I didn't let up, though. It wasn't so much a date as it was a sales pitch - and hard sell.

"Two pictures, Kayla. One of your lovely face. Then a close-up of your teeth, but nothing else."

- "I couldn't!"

- "You could, you know."

- "Why are you doing this to me?"

- "Because I care about you." I said.

It was the truth. Kayla heard it. She recognized it. I'd driven two hours to see her, and I wasn't asking her for anything. Instead, I was offering my help.

- "Why?" she asked.

- "Because you're lovely, and charming, Kayla. And because you remind me of me."

It wasn't that easy, of course. She argued against herself like a lawyer, and questioned my motives as if I was a hired hit man.

"It isn't complicated, Kayla. It really isn't. Someone did me a good turn, and I wanted to return the favour. Then I met you, and ... I choose you."

- "I need time. To think about this."

- "That's fair. But ... can I see you again? Either way?"

***

My next date with Kayla was ... difficult. She didn't want to talk about her teeth, or GoFundMe. She still wouldn't open up about her past. I couldn't ply her with liquor, to loosen her inhibitions, because she didn't drink.

At that stage, the difference in our ages was all too evident. We didn't have similar interests, or music and television in common. We didn't have any mutual friends or associates, and no shared experiences. Conversation between us was sometimes quite stilted. Once or twice it just stuttered and died.

The bond between us was simple: I wanted to help her, and she knew it. Kayla needed someone on her side, but she was still unwilling to let her defences down.

- "Can I see you next week?" I asked her.

- "Really? You still want to see me?" Kayla knew that I was travelling four hours to come see her. She also knew how little she was giving me in return.

- "Yes. I do."

***

I went apartment hunting. In some strange way, I was still thinking like the 25 year-old version of me, looking for something affordable, and not too far from work. The rents they were asking were astonishing. No wonder the Bennetts had been so happy renting my house when I went to live with Mom.

There was no need for me to get something cheap, or to settle for convenience. I didn't plan to work forever. But I also thought in terms of having a place that I could bring a girlfriend home to. I didn't know who she was, yet, but I was looking for her.

Meanwhile, I'd been to see Kayla again. I was going to take her out for a meal (I wasn't all that certain how often she ate well), but she called me to suggest a change of plans.

- "Would it be okay if we just had pizza at my place?" she asked. "And ... could you bring your laptop again?"

That was encouraging.

Kayla lived in a run-down neighbourhood, in a shabby building. Her apartment was par for the course: it reeked of neglect, and positively cried out for a fresh coat of paint. But I couldn't fault the hostess, who forgot herself briefly and smiled when she saw the bouquet of flowers I carried.

Her furniture, like almost everything she had, was cheap and second-hand. But Kayla had ordered an excellent pizza, and had even got a six pack of beer for me. It wasn't very good beer, but hey - it's the thought that counts.

- "I wanted you to see my apartment." she said. "After our last ... date, I came back here and saw just what you're seeing now." She waved an arm round. "And I realized that you were right. "It will take me forever to save enough money for a dentist."

I didn't interrupt her. She was being much more forthcoming than usual. I didn't want her to stop.

"And then I realized something else: if I spent everything I saved on my teeth, then in ten years I could still be living here."

- "I understand."

- "I know you do. I'm not too proud to ask for help, Dan. I'm just afraid. I did some more looking at the GoFundMe projects. There are lots of people who need support way more than I do. But ... I'm not the least deserving, either."

- "No, you're not."

- "So ... can you show me how to set this up?"

I could, and we did. It didn't take that long.

- "Kayla, when is your next day off?"

- "Wednesday. Why?"

- "Can I see your bedroom?"

- "What?"

I explained what I was after, which reassured her about my intentions. She showed me her bedroom, which only increased my desire to do something else to help her. We talked it over, and I finally overcame her objections. Then I gave her detailed instructions.

I did my shopping on Monday and Tuesday, after work. On Wednesday, I took a day off. I was up at the crack of dawn, and on my way to Guelph in a rented van, which I needed because I couldn't fit a step-ladder in my car.

Kayla had done as I'd asked: she'd taken everything off the walls, and moved everything except the heaviest furniture. She'd also emptied her kitchen cupboards.

I helped her move the rest, and took off the fixtures she hadn't been able to reach. Then we covered everything with dropsheets, and began to paint her apartment. Kayla had gotten the landlord's approval, and even convinced him to come by later in the day, to see what we were doing.

I'm no expert, but I've painted a few ceilings and walls in my time. We started with sanding, patching and filling. I showed Kayla how to use a roller, and she took to it like a duck to water. It wasn't all that big a space: we had the ceilings done in the living room, kitchen and bedroom before noon (I'd decided not to touch the bathroom - it needed a complete reno).

The landlord arrived just after we'd finished the living room walls.

- "Whoa." he said, clearly impressed.

I didn't waste time berating him for renting such shabby apartments. Instead, I showed him the receipt for the paint I'd bought, and told him that he could have whatever was left over. Then I bargained for a reduction in Kayla's rent for that month. I must have caught him in a Christmas mood; he took $400 off the rent for January.

We had fun. I caught Kayla smiling more than once. Yes, we got paint all over ourselves, but it was worth it to see the expression on her face.

She ordered pizza again, and I discovered that she'd stocked her fridge with another six-pack of much better beer.

- "I can't drink these." I said. "I have to drive home tonight."

- "I know. But ... maybe you could have them next time you come over. In fact, I was wondering ... do you have plans for Thanksgiving?" That's Canadian Thanksgiving, of course - the second Monday in October.

Kayla knew that I'd lost Freya and Connie's Mom, and she also knew that I wasn't seeing anyone. Two lonely people, together for the holidays ... it made good sense.

- "You don't have to cook, or anything." I said. I didn't even know if she knew how.

- "Please let me, Dan. You do so much for me." she said. "Have ... have you looked at the GoFundMe page?"

I had. After three days, it was already at $475. I wasn't about to tell her that $100 of that was mine.

Kayla hugged me, that evening. She wrapped her arms around me, and squeezed tight.

- "Can I see you next week?" she asked.

***

A week after painting Kayla's place, I was back there with a large bag of Chinese takeout. It was her preference: I was fully prepared to take her out, but she'd insisted that I come here. In addition to the food, I'd brought flowers as well.

Kayla hugged me at the door. "You're too good to me." she whispered.

- "Have you seen the GoFundMe page?" It was already at $2160. Kayla didn't need to know that I'd anonymously pledged another $500.

- "You're a beautiful man, Angel." she said. Kayla knew that my name was Dan, but every so often she liked to call me Angel - it was a roundabout, additional thank you of sorts.

There was something different about her tonight. She had me admire our joint work (the painting), served me a beer, and then sat down across from me.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking," she said, "and most of it is because of you. You've been so patient with me, and so giving - I don't understand it, but I want you to know that I do appreciate it. I want to ... I want to try to explain to you why I'm here."

Kayla was mocked and humiliated through high school, because of her teeth. She endured the betrayal of false friends, and mockery from near strangers. In college, she was unfortunately surrounded by many of the same people. She had few friends.

Then, in her senior year, a boy named Mark went out of his way to be nice to her. Kayla was 20 years old, but almost completely inexperienced. Mark asked her out on a date, and then asked her to go to the graduation party with him.

- "I thought that he loved me." said Kayla. "I loved him. We had a few drinks, and danced. He was pressing up against me, and I could feel his ... erection. He was attracted to me, and I'd ... I'd never had a boyfriend. Mark told me that he'd rented a hotel room for us. It just seemed .. right."

I had a horrible feeling that I knew where this story was going. I was wrong.

"We had more to drink." said Kayla. "He was ... aggressive. I thought that it was because he was so passionate for me. He ... we had sex. It hurt. He was rough. After he was done, we had more to drink. I'm not sure, actually, what I drank. Then two of Mark's friends arrived. They ... they all had sex with me. I barely knew what was going on. They did things to me."

I will spare you the rest of Kayla's story. Suffice it to say, I wanted to know Mark's last name, so that I could hunt him and his friends down, and castrate them. Kayla understood that she had been violated, but she didn't think that anyone would believe her. She'd been so drunk, she didn't know if she had objected, or ever said 'No'.

The assholes bragged, and showed pictures they'd taken. Word of that night got back to Kayla's parents, who felt publicly shamed. The few friendly acquaintances she had left steered clear of her, now that she'd been branded a slut.

As bad as the rape was (for that was certainly what it was), Kayla's life took a nose dive after that. She was alone, friendless, without the support of her family. She had to move, and start all over - all by herself.

I knew what it was like to be alone, and cut off from family, but not like that - my experience wasn't even remotely close to what she'd been through.

I had no idea if she would let me touch her at all, after sharing those horrible details, but I had to offer. I opened my arms, and leaned forward just a little, so that I could hug her. I held Kayla gently, but firmly - she wasn't a carton of eggs, and I didn't want her to think for one second that I was unwilling to embrace her.

We sat that way for several minutes. She shivered once, and then moved a little closer. Then she began to cry. Her body shook as she sobbed quietly. I held her a little tighter, to remind her that she wasn't alone, this time.

Kayla pulled back, just enough to lift her head and look into my eyes. That's when she saw the tears that were already rolling down my cheeks. She buried her face against my chest, and sobbed some more.

Half an hour later, we were both cried out. Kayla reached up with one hand to touch my cheek, which was still wet. She ran her finger down the track of one of my tears.

- "Thank you, Dan." she said.

***

Tansa had me pick up another package, and deliver it to an address in Milton. I rang the doorbell. To my great surprise, Tansa herself opened the door.

- "Hey, Dan." she said. "You can bring that into the kitchen. Don't worry about your shoes."

- "Kayla told me - about what happened." I said.

- "She did?"

- "You knew?"

Tansa nodded. "Just like I knew about you, Dan."

- "Why didn't you tell me?"

- "Could you have looked at Kayla without crying, if you'd known? Be honest, Dan."

She was right. I would have pitied Kayla from the outset. She would've felt it, and there would have been zero chance of ever getting close to her.

- "It's not right."

- "No."

- "Tansa, can I ask a favour?"

- "You can ask - but I'm under no obligation to grant you anything."

- "I'm not asking for much: just Mark's last name - or his address."

Tansa shook her head. "Bad idea. Ah - I keep forgetting that you're not a Christian."

- "What?"

- "Forgiveness is divine. Justice is mine, sayeth the Lord."

- "Most Christians don't actually believe that. Or practice it." I said.

- "I know." she said. "And I'm not one to turn the other cheek either. But you can't do this, Dan. It would do more damage to you than to them."

- "So they just get to go on with their lives, while she has to live with it forever?"

- "I didn't say that. You have to trust me a little. Kayla needs your love and support - not you committing a crime. And I need you, too. The last weekend in October - you have to do a run with Terry and Nick. I have a feeling that you should be there."

- "What about Kayla?"

- "It's one night, Dan. And I hope that you'll be there for Kayla whenever she needs you, too. Can we count on you?"

Coincidences are quite frequent in life (even if they seem to occur more often in fiction). Mark and his two friends had gotten away with gang rape once before. A little over a year later, they were tempted to try it again.

This time, the girl was only seventeen. She had two older brothers, and the brothers had a new friend who let them know what was going to happen that Friday night. There was a rather ugly scene at the Starlight Motel in Barrie, involving two baseball bats and a crowbar. Several serious injuries were sustained. The brothers proudly stood by what they'd done.

It all happened a week before Thanksgiving.

Kayla called me three days later.

- "Dan - If I ask you a question, will you tell me the truth?"

- "Always."

It took her a few seconds to get it out. "Dan, were you in my hometown last weekend?"

- "No, Kayla. I haven't been in Barrie in 15 years."

- "You did know."

- "That you're from Barrie? Not until yesterday, when I heard the news." I said. "I spoke to Tansa, a week ago. I was very angry, after what you told me. I wanted to know if she knew. I asked her to tell me where Mark lived. She wouldn't."

- "It wasn't you?"

- "No, Kayla. I can't swear that Tansa wasn't involved. But I had nothing to do it - however much I wished that I had."

She thought about what I'd said, in silence.

- "Are you still available this weekend?"

- "It's Thanksgiving - I'm fully booked, for you."

- "Can you come over on Saturday?" she asked.

- "I thought you wanted to eat on Sunday?"

- "Yes. Can you come the day before? Stay over? I still have that six-pack for you."