Excerpt
As she and Michael drove down Fourth Avenue in the beater car they had just bought at a used car lot and had not yet fully paid for, she fell in love with the area. It was August under a cloudless sky and her window was rolled down. Chestnut trees hung over the street. A man in a bright serape and sandals was juggling vinyl pins in front of a health food store. Another man was handing out copies of what appeared to be the local newspaper, The Georgia Straight. Music blared from speakers in a record shop. Crowds of tanned young people roamed the streets carrying radios and backpacks. No one seemed in a hurry and everyone smiled. “Peace, peace,” one man called out to her holding up his fingers in a V as they drove by.
“Let’s live here, Michael, not in the student apartments. They’re so god awful concrete and gloomy.”
As usual, Michael’s reply was brief. “Maybe.”
He’ll come around as soon as he lives in Vancouver a while, she thought. Maybe he and Paul will become friends.
But that faint hope, borne briefly as they got out of the car and entered Paul’s building, was quickly dashed.
“Isn’t this great?” Paul said right away, hugging her and spreading his arms wide to take in the wicker chairs, battered sofa, tiny kitchen and a balcony with a glorious view of the ocean. “It reminds me of California, you know, where I grew up. I love it here.” He seemed so relaxed, so laid back, as they said out in Vancouver. He shook hands warmly with Michael who returned the handshake but stared at him as if he were a lab specimen.
“It’s great to see you here, finally, Jennifer. And Michael, too. Let me show you around.” They examined some of Paul’s nicer possessions including a collection of Russian literature and a brightly polished samovar, with Jennifer ooohing and aahing periodically.
“We’re quite close to the Russian community centre here,” he told them. “It’s cool to visit.”
“It’s perfect,” she cried. “Isn’t it, Michael?”
Paul relaxed. “Just about. The only thing that would make my life complete here would be a girlfriend. Sue and I broke up.” Immediately Michael’s expression changed from one of puzzlement to repugnance. He began to bristle, Jennifer thought later. It had to be jealousy. But why? Paul had always been her good friend. Michael knew that, accepted it, or so he had said. Men, she thought with exasperation.
Manolis Aligizakis 