— Not like this, said Pete.
Lee finished his beer and started on another.
— Well. We lived in a boarding house on the other side of downtown, north of the river. Merritt Street. I think about that place a lot, I don’t know why. I went to see it awhile back but it’s different now. Your grandmother helped clean the place to take down the rent she was paying. And your mother wasn’t always so serious, Pete. Did you know that? How she is now, I wouldn’t of even known her. So quiet. So wrapped up. But she wasn’t always so serious.
— I don’t remember her ever being anything else. There were times when I was younger, I’d see her just staring off into space. Just blanked out.
— When she was young she was a lot of fun, and she was real pretty. A real knockout, they’d say. She didn’t care that she barely had two changes of clothes. She got along good with practically everybody. She was the only person, the only person … I mean, she cared for me. I was her older brother, the loser, the small-time hood, but none of that bothered her. I used to be afraid I would, you know, disappoint her, but I’d get drinking or doing something stupid, and no matter what, she was always there to pick me up and drive me wherever it was I needed to go, or if I needed to come back home for a little while, she’d give up her room and sleep on the couch …
Lee was peering into the tabletop, moving his beer bottle back and forth between his hands. Pete drank down his own beer. He left the dregs in the bottom of the bottle. A man weaved into the men’s room nearby and by the time he’d come out Lee had still not resumed.
— Lee, said Pete.
— You know that hockey arena in town?
— The community centre, sure. Charles Grady Memorial or whatever.
— And you never played hockey?
— Never. I took some skating lessons when I was little, but I wasn’t any good.
— Well. Chuck Grady was a hockey player from town. He played forward. He had a hell of a name for himself. He was playing Triple-A when he was sixteen and he got scouted for the National League by the time he was your age. I knew this because everybody in town knew it. Chuck had a brother named Simon, about a year or two younger than him, and when Chuck was back in town you’d always see them two together. The Grady boys. There wasn’t a teenage girl around that him and his brother couldn’t get into. Chuckie Grady. He started sniffing around your mother. She was going with a guy-I can’t remember his name, but what does it matter-and she didn’t care about hockey and she had no interest in Chuckie Grady. But him and Simon would cruise by the boarding house every now and then. They had this, what was it, a real flashy car. T-Bird, if I remember.
— T-Bird? said Pete.
— Yeah. A T-Bird. Their old man owned the dealership.
— Jesus, said Pete.
— What?
— Nothing. Never mind.
— Well, I figured I’d let Chuck and Simon know that your ma wasn’t interested in them. I saw Simon one time at a party and I let him know he didn’t need to have anything to do with her. Ha. A week later I was pretty drunk, coming out of a dance hall, or maybe the bowling alley, and Chuck and Simon and a few of their pals were waiting for me. They stomped my ass into the ground pretty good. I guess they figured a greaser hood like me shouldn’t be speaking up for his sister.
He’d taken to studying the tabletop again. After a moment, he went on: I’d been on a real tear for a few days, way out on Indian River. Me, Speedy Simmons, Jimmy Robichaud, a couple others. It was maybe September. I came back to the boarding house at night. I wasn’t supposed to be living there any more-I was in my twenties-but I couldn’t hold a job down for real long, and I’d been evicted from the place I was living. I remember that night because it was late, eleven o’clock. I had Jimmy Robichaud’s dad’s Buick, which we all just kind of used when we needed to. Anyways there I was near the house and that fucking T-Bird is going the other way real fast, and I thought, there’s the Gradys cruising again. But when I got to the house, your mom, she was just sitting outside on the porch. She … she had no shoes on. She was barefoot. Her legs were all scratched up.
Lee peeled the label off his beer bottle. Pete’s mouth was bone dry.
— I never figured out why those two guys thought she’d just keep her mouth shut, said Lee. I thought about it a long time. But you know? They were right. She did. Far as I know I’m the only person she ever told it to, and I think it was on account of I saw their car and I saw her sitting there on the porch. The only time she said a word of it was to me that night. How she was walking home from the grocery store where she worked. How they came by and saw her and picked her up, she said, and this was maybe nine o’clock at night in the fall, so it was full dark, and then they didn’t drive her straight home. She didn’t talk a lot more about what happened after that. Not to me. Not even when she got called up as a witness for the defence, and I was sitting there with those charges laid on me. She just looked at the floor when the lawyer asked her. Did you know Charles or Simon Grady? She said, no, sir. Not at all, sir. I guess they all knew a lot more about shame than I ever did, which is why they knew she wouldn’t say anything. I don’t know what Chuck and Simon did when they went back into town, and after that night Simon was never able to talk clearly anyway. He couldn’t even be called as a witness. See, I don’t know where they went after they left her. I only know I got to their house before they did. When they got home it was around midnight and I was there already.
Pete started to get up from the table. He felt queasy.
— Sit down, said Lee.
— I have to go.
— Sit your ass down, Peter. You wanted me to start talking about this, well, I am. The Crown wanted to hang me for it. You can’t duck out now.
Pete sank into the chair.
— Jimmy’s dad was a framer on a building crew, said Lee. He had a framing hammer in the trunk of the car. It was twenty-two ounces. I didn’t say nothing to Chuck or Simon and they never got any words out themselves. The whole thing was done and over in less than a minute and I drove away. I threw the hammer down a creek. But the thing is, Simon Grady was still alive. That’s something I didn’t think of at the time. When I left them, they both had their heads pretty messed up. I … I know I used the claw a couple of times, anyway. But I was also young and pissed off and drunk. Stupid. Simon Grady was still alive, but he was all messed up. He never got right again.
— I feel like I’m going to throw up.
— They gave me twenty years. They talked about some of the chicken-shit stuff I’d been picked up for before, and they called a few witnesses who said I had prior history with the Gradys. And me, us, whatever you want to call it, I just told the court I didn’t like them bothering my sister. If she couldn’t talk about what they’d done to her, I couldn’t speak for her. Mom knew, and I think some people in town might of had the idea, but it never come out in the newspaper. Just how the local hockey hero got murdered in cold blood. They called it envy. The first chaplain, when I was inside, he called it covetousness, and he showed me in the Bible what that was.