The Garneau Block Read Free

rare, high-pitched yip.
    â€œWhat is that thing?” said Les to David Weiss, retired high-school math teacher, former champion amateur wrestler, and president of the Strathcona Progressive Conservative Riding Association. As if to prove something, Garith shook his head and bounced, and the bells on his collar chimed. Les bent down. “Is that a dog or–?”
    No doubt sensitive to his daughter’s position at Sparkle Vacations, David didn’t deliver his stump speech designed for fat men in windbreakers who insulted Garith. Instead, he pointed at the line of moist, crumpled tissues on his daughter’s desk. “Is that your rubbish or–?”
    It took Les a moment to figure out what David was referring to. So David raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat until Les picked up the tissues and scuttled out of Sparkle Vacations. Madison called Garith up onto her lap. The dog shivered and licked the air while her parents sat down. David rested for a moment then sprung up. “Blech. That seat is warm.”
    Abby Weiss dangled one of the Let’s Fix It sheets. “Did you see all these?”
    â€œI did.”
    â€œRather a waste of paper, I’d say. It isn’t even recycled stock. But the sentiment is wonderful.” For most of her career, Abby Weiss had taught grade one. It had instilled a gently pedantic tone in her out-of-classroom speaking voice. “Why should we sit around and allow ourselves to be emotionally tortured by what happened in that awful house?”
    â€œIt’s bunk,” said David. He was flipping through the thick brochures displayed along the back wall, advertising southern getaways. “Probably a pyramid scheme. Honduras. They speak Spanish there, right?”
    â€œYes, Dad.”
    â€œBack to Hawaii for us this year.”
    Abby waved the paper in the air again. “This isn’t a pyramid scheme, David. It’s what we need, as a community. That family’s tragedy will destroy us if we let it.”
    â€œGarith needs moisturizer, Dad. His skin’s a bit dry.”
    â€œHonduras. It sounds druggy, doesn’t it?”
    â€œWe owe it to Jeanne and Katie Perlitz to take this seriously.” Abby swiped the brochure from her husband’s hand, replaced it on the shelf, and pointed at the chair.
    â€œBut the seat’s warm from that slob.”
    â€œSo sit in the other one.”
    Her parents sat. Abby straightened her posture. “I think we should go to this meeting. As a family. I think we all agree the air isn’t right since Jeanne and little Katie left. We can either do nothing about that and let the block fade into a sad and scary place where a man was shot, like some street in an Americantown that used to build Buicks, a place where ghosts toss buckets of blood around while good families are trying to enjoy dinner. Or. Or we can fix it. For God’s sake, we’re human beings. We’re Albertans. We’re full of can-do spirit!”
    Madison exchanged a glance with her father, a glance that had acquired subtlety and significance since her teen years. As much as they both loved and respected Abby, as much as they appreciated the sincere, boundless, crusading warmth in her heart, Madison and David found her hilarious.

 
    4
    the price of coffee in paris
    A Cadillac Escalade pulled up, its alloy wheels gleaming in the morning sunlight. Tammy “Sparkle” Davidson hurried around her SUV and walked into the agency, thanking someone enthusiastically on her little silver cellular phone. In a black denim ensemble and red scarf, Tammy waved at the air in front of her as though she were a queen visiting the colonies, swarmed by mosquitoes, bad architecture, and bad smells. “It’ll be a delight, an absolute delight.”
    Madison stood with her parents near the door, unsure whether to release them. A few months earlier, the proprietor of Sparkle Vacations had read a self-help book that