The hidden years in Canada 184, the sun rises in the East

The sun rises in the East When I had paid the ticket, I had passed the point of doubt. The girl had been nice and young and defiantly appealing, but when my ticket was in the case with a picture on it, of a German street with half-timbered walls, I shut a part of my life definitively off. I said goodbye her and wanted to walk to...

The hidden years in Canada 183, tough Bill Haybe

Tough Bill Haybe It had been busy and to be honest I had enjoyed very little sleep. The breakfast was done and I was glad I was not really the busboy anymore. When the last tables were cleared and I took off my apron, Bill came in. ‘No hey,’ he said, ‘I'm late again for breakfast? ‘What do you call late,’ I said as I s...

The hidden years in Canada 182, the midnight candle

The midnight candle I drove back in a deeply excited state of mind. This was the first day back in the big city, civilization and madness jumped at you from all sides. My right hand was searching for the chromed knob and turned it with a small click to the right, the little speaker crackled for a moment and then bright and clear...

The hidden years in Canada 181, angry men

Angry men They would not stop and I would have given six weeks' pay if Bill had now been standing next to me. I breathed quietly and did not take my eyes off the men. There were only four men who mesmerized looked at each other and the distance between them lessened per step. The spell was broken by a shot that came so unexpecte...

The hidden years in Canada 180, countdown

Countdown The man was kind, he put me in front of a white reflective screen. I had to look to the left and heard a click and I had to look to the right and the camera clicked again. ‘Now frontal view,’ he said. The reverse umbrella containing a spotlight bellowed light on me that reflected off the screen behind me. I sat in ...

The hidden years in Canada 179, the winding road

The winding road I felt strong, I had taken control of my life, a control that I would never relinquish. I looked at the Pontiac that had been connected to all the events in my life. All the misery in my life over the past four years. It had been my escape vehicle, my get away car. It had been present when my mother died and whe...

The hidden years in Canada 178, sleeping quarters

Sleeping quarters Breakfast was over. The room looked like a tornado had raged there. Bill looked around him. ‘I always seem to come late here,’ he muttered. ‘I'll go look in the kitchen,’ I offered. With a few steps I was at the swinging doors where greasy Jim, the filthy cook, would be at work. I stepped inside and Shi...

The hidden years in Canada 177, the four seasons

The four seasons The city was the same, everything was the same as it was, like the newspaper that Bill had read in the morning. Life was here crawling about and because everything was connected to everything and everybody was part of it, there was hardly any change. Bill turned a knob and CKXl came out of the small speaker. The...

The hidden years in Canada 176, plastic people

Plastic people In the morning I met my boss at the salon with a newspaper in his hands. He smile and looked again like a normal citizen. ‘You might as well not read the newspaper,’ he said, ‘after six weeks wilderness, nothing has changed.’ He looked younger, as if a burden had fallen from him, and that of course was the...