What Passes For Normal

Chapter 7

Neea tapped her pen anxiously against the open appointment book, staring at the entry written in her own looping handwriting.

Mrs. DaCosta-Loach: 11:30

Peter had been late for his last meeting with this client and was well on his way to being late for this one too. Neea thought it just wasn't very smart to be late for a meeting with the woman whose legal fees constituted such a large part of his income. Why wasn't he answering his cell phone?

Peter Cavil's law office was on Menzies Street not far from Neea and Teddy's house. It was convenient because Neea could walk to work, but the downside was the fact that her world sometimes seemed too small. Within a few blocks there was a decent bakery, a library, a grocery store, drug store, etc.—but many days Neea never ventured more than a kilometre from home. She sometimes felt like a rat in a cage.

Unfortunately, her job at the Cavil & Co. Law Office did little to alleviate the claustrophobic feelings. The office itself was very small—Peter was the "Cavil" and that left Neea to be the "Co."—and the work she did was repetitive and, in general, very dull. A guilty pleasure some evenings was watching a trashy TV series about the intrigue and excitement in a busy big-city law firm populated with scheming, sexy young lawyers. It was pure escapism and as different from her day-to-day work as fine champagne is from grape soda.

• • • •

"So what was this place again?" Kodi asks.

"You mean where I stayed?"

"Duh... yeah."

Kodi has his hood pulled up over his head and in profile I can't even see his face when he's talking to me.

"Some lady's house," I tell him. "Over in James Bay. She lives there with her son."

We're heading to Switch's house for more meth. Switch is a small-time meth cook and our main source. I've never been to his place before—we've just met up with him downtown in the past—but today Kodi wants to check out the operation. Not sure if he's considering going into the business or just curious about where his favourite recreational drug comes from. Plus, with our bonus cash from Neea, Kodi wants to buy more than usual. Being Kodi he doesn't need to consider that the money also needs to cover things like my tampons and birth control pills for example, or, you know, food. Mr. Generosity wants to make sure Bryn and everyone else gets in on the fun tonight. Generous with my money. Typical.

Well OK, Neea's money, technically.

Kodi—his last name is Gretsch—grew up on Lasqueti Island. That's one of a bunch of islands clumped in the channel that runs between the mainland and Vancouver Island. Not too many people live there which suits Kodi's father just fine. Carl has been in the business of growing and selling pot since long before it was legal and he doesn't like a lot of people snooping around. I never found out why Kodi's mother left them, and these days Kodi doesn't even know where she lives. He was mostly raised by Carl, if you can call it raising. Ignoring is more like it.

At about fourteen, Kodi stopped going to school and pretty much did whatever he wanted. The local police would sometimes bug Carl about Kodi missing school and about the pot-growing operation but nothing was ever really done about either one. The grow-op was small enough that they really couldn't be bothered with it, and young Kodiak didn't seem significant enough to matter much either.

They lived in an old trailer that was parked deep in the woods not far from Carl's weed patch. The land was owned by some American guy who hardly ever came to the island and who had maybe sort of given Carl permission to live there. The details were sketchy and there was no written agreement but until he was told to leave, Carl was going to stay put.