"Okay," said Kat, not quite understanding how she fit into all of this.
"I have a ton of things I need done, though," said Orysia. "And your sister isn't here. We need groceries, and more rags and paint from the hardware store, and I need to drop an envelope off at the bank."
"I can do all that for you," said Kat.
"That's what I was hoping," said Orysia. "I could drive you to the mall and you could call me when you're done, and I could swing by and pick you up, even if Mr. Vincent isn't finished with your grandfather."
"Sure," she said. It would have been a lot easier had Genya stuck around, thought Kat. At least she had a driver's licence.
When she got back from doing errands, Ian was sitting on the front steps, a rolled up paper bag on his lap. When Orysia pulled the car into the driveway, Ian stood up and walked over to the driver's side of the car and opened the door for her.
"Thank you," she said. "Have a good time tonight," she said, eyes sparkling mysteriously.
Ian grinned.
Kat watched this exchange with mild curiosity, then popped the trunk and grabbed one of the grocery bags. "Can you take this in?" she asked Ian.
"Sure," he said. He took it in one arm and held his rolled up bag in the other, and walked around to the back of the house.
"What's in your bag?" Kat asked, following close behind him with more groceries.
Ian grinned. "Something to take your mind off the hearing," he said.
Kat was intrigued.
She set down her own grocery bag and grabbed Ian's and set it on the table too. She looked out the window and saw that her mother had already backed out of the driveway and was heading back to Mr. Vincent's office for the rest of the meeting.
Ian handed her the rolled up bag. Inside was something black. Kat looked up at him.
"Lisa and I decided that you need a diversion," said Ian, grinning. "So we're taking you to The Savage Garden tonight."
"What?" exclaimed Kat. The Savage Garden was a club where people into Goth culture hung out.
"Don't look so worried," said Ian. "It's fetish night tonight, meaning all ages are allowed in."
"I don't know...." said Kat.
"I already talked to your mother about it," said Ian. "And she thinks you should go."
This hearing really must be affecting her mind, thought Kat. Since when did her mother approve of such things?
"She said she'd drive us all there and pick us up at the stroke of midnight," said Ian.
Okay, now it sounded more like her mother. "That would be great," said Kat.
"Lisa and I will come by at 9 and we can all drive down together," said Ian.
Kat watched in amazement as he walked down the street towards his own house.
As she unpacked the groceries, she noticed that the light on the answering machine was blinking. Kat pushed "play" and listened:
"This is detective Ann Marie Foulds. Would either Iris or Walter Baliuk call when they get in?"
As soon as Orysia got home, she called the detective immediately, and Kat could see her mother's shoulders relax in relief as she listened to what the detective had to say. "Good news and bad news," she said as she hung up the phone. "The good news is that Michael Vincent is not our graffiti artist."
"Thank goodness," said Kat. Her faith was restored in humanity. Yet hadn't the police said that they had caught him in the act? "How did they clear him?"
"His fingerprints don't match the ones from the graffiti," explained Orysia. "Which leads me to the bad news. They still have no idea who did it."
Frustrating, thought Kat. But she was so happy that Michael hadn't done it.
"Why don't you give Michael a call while I start supper?" suggested Orysia.
Kat called, but Michael seemed distant. It made her feel bad that she had ever suspected him.
"Can you come over Sunday afternoon?" she asked. "I could really use some feedback on an art project I'm thinking about."
"I'll see," said Michael.
CHAPTER 27
"I DON'T KNOW how you can stand to go to the hearing," said Genya as Kat was going through her Goth clothes. "I can barely stay sane just thinking of all this stuff."
"He is our grandfather," said Kat. "And the least you could do is come to the hearing once. I know he would get strength in that."
"Kat," said Genya. "You've already lost your year. I don't want the same to happen to me."
Kat sighed. Her sister had a point. She just wished Genya hadn't decided to opt out of the family. "Why are you even here now?" asked Kat. "I mean, you hardly even sleep here any more."
"Needed a change of clothes," said Genya. She opened her chest of drawers and pulled out a sweater and a skirt, then stuffed them into her knapsack. Then she walked over to Kat's bed and looked at the items Ian had brought.
"This is neat," said Genya, holding a black short skirt up to her waist.
Kat looked at it sceptically.
Almost as if Genya knew what she was thinking, she said. "The neatest thing about this is that it's vinyl and fits like a glove." Then she put both of her hands inside the waist and pulled.
Then Genya, in her usual take-charge manner, put together an outfit for Kat from the items Ian had brought. By the time Kat struggled into the black corset top, the skintight skirt, fishnet stockings and knee-high vinyl stiletto boots, she truly did feel like she was someone else.
Genya had a huge grin on her face as she angled the door mirror so Kat could get a good look at herself. "Well," said Kat. "I sure am not me."
"Too bad you have to wear those glasses," said Genya.
"I'm blind without them," said Kat. "And you know it."
"Yeah," said Genya. "But let me do your make-up, okay?"
When they were little, Genya used to love putting make-up on Kat. She also would put make-up on her mother and even on Baba. Kat sighed with nostalgia. It would be so nice to be back in those simpler days.
Genya painted china doll lips on Kat in black eyeliner, and outlined her eyes in kohl. They didn't have white face make-up, but Genya mixed up a concoction of foundation and concealer that did a pretty good job. Kat's hair was its natural colour, but Genya gelled it wild. "Promise not to touch it," she admonished, "or you'll spoil the effect."
Kat felt giddy with anticipation as she walked on the sidewalk between Ian and Lisa on their way to The Savage Garden. They passed a small shop or two, and a garment factory. The door opened as they walked by and a haggard looking Vietnamese woman stepped outside. Under one arm was the end of a bolt of glittery cloth. She clutched it protectively as she darted past the three teens.
"This is the street where my grandparents lived when they first came to Canada," said Kat. "Baba worked in one of those garment factories too."
"It's all Vietnamese now," said Lisa. "These women can barely scrape by."
The entrance to The Savage Garden looked like a cross between a construction zone and a cave. Ian pushed on the door and Kat was greeted with a blast of retro Goth music and a swirl of cigarette smoke. She stepped in, Lisa and Ian close behind. They were enveloped in darkness and steamy warmth.
Kat could feel Ian's hand under one of her elbows, and Lisa's arm around her waist and she was grateful for their closeness because the place was packed. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she took in all of the outrageous outfits. Compared to some of these, she was downright conservative.
A middle aged man with red contact lenses, a black shirt with a priest's collar and a long leather skirt was standing beside a pool table, chalking a cue. Beside him was a woman in her twenties wearing skintight black leather pants and a leather bra. She was bending over the pool table, lining up her balls.