They are slaves who fear to speak
for the fallen and the weak. ~Lowell Stanzas on Freedom
Mary looked around the apartment, looking at the pet stains on the floor, the mildew in the corner and the broken plate covering the light switch. She's grown up in such places as these. All of her growing-up years had been spent tramping from one government housing project to another dilapidated, brick building.
"Ah, a coat of paint and it'll look brand new." The building manager shrugged, not really caring if they did a single thing as long as the deposit check didn't bounce.
"We'll take it." Derek grunted, digging out his wallet. His beefy hands were calloused from years of hard labor. Mary leaned on the door handle, thinking how nice it would be if she painted the entire, one bedroom apartment white and put up curtains over the kitchen window. She thoughtlessly ran her fingers through her mahogany colored hair as she pictured the improvements.
"Mr. Jones?, pardon my intrusion, I was just looking for you." A tall, handsome man with a friendly smile peeked inside the open door. The manager strode across the living room and snapped the U.S. Postal money order from between his fingers.
"Constable Benton Fraser, meet your new neighbors, Mary and Derek Thompson." Mr. Jones? made introductions, his hazel eyes dull and limp.
"Hello, pleased to meet you." The red clad Canadian stepped farther inside the apartment. Derek gave him a cold stare as he shook hands. From behind him tip toed Diefenbaker, his nails clicking on the hallway's hardwood flooring. "This is my wolf, Diefenbaker, he's tame, I promise." Ben smiled. "he is a shameless beggar for sweets though."
"I bet he's just a big puppy, isn't he." Mary knelt down to scratch the white and caramel wolf's head between the ears.
"Don't get dog hair on your clothes, Mary." Derek barked, his dark eyes as cold as any glacier Ben had ever seen. Reluctantly, she pulled away from Dief.
"I'm in 3J, at the end of the hall, if you need anything, don't hesitate to knock." The mountie offered with a sincere smile.
"Thanks, but we can take care of ourselves." The gruff way Derek spoke to him ended any further conversation.
"Good day, Mr. Thompson, Mrs. Thompson." The mountie settled his Stetson down onto his brow before turning to leave. Mary nodded, embarrassed by her husband's behavior.
"Let's go sign the paperwork, this way." Mr. Jones led the couple to his office on the first floor.
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Two weeks later …
Ben helped one of the ladies on the third story carry her groceries to her door, his arms full as she dug around for her keys.
"Ms. Caudill, is that your door key hanging around your neck." The mountie finally asked after ten minutes. The eighty year old woman looked up at him, her eyes magnified by her owlish glasses.
"What'd you say, Sonny, you have to speak up, I'm a little hard of hearing." Her rheumy eyes peered intently up at his face, listening.
"I said, is that your door key hanging around your neck." Ben shouted, bending forward, toward her ear.
"Oh yes, there it is, I forgot I'd put it there." With a smile, Ms. Caudill dragged the lanyard out of her bright pink blouse, drawing it up from the depths of her ample bosom. A few fumbles later she opened the door and led Ben through her living room.
"Set them down anywhere, Sonny, I've got to get off my feet for a few minutes." Ms. Caudill settled herself on a doily covered, gray recliner near the window over looking the street. Ben set three heavily laden paper bags on the small, round table in the kitchen. He peeked into the living room to see the old lady with her head leaned against the head rest, snoring already. Quickly, he found the items that needed refrigerated and put them away. A squeaky floor board gave the usually silent woodsman away as he walked toward the door.
"Oh, Constable Fraser, let me give you something for helping me." Ms. Caudill hefted herself out of the chair, digging in the front of her pink blouse. She pulled a single dollar out and handed it to him.
"That's not necessary, Ms. Caudill." He tried to refuse but she narrowed her milky eyes at him. Finally, Ben took it to keep from hurting her feelings. He tipped his hat and turned to go. It had been a long day at the consulate and an equally long day helping his friend, Detective Ray Vecchio, track down an art smuggler. The mountie puzzled over the case as he walked back to his own apartment. Before he knew it he heard raised, angry voices coming from his neighbor's apartment. He couldn't tell exactly what they were saying. The explosive, angry sounds made him cringe. Domestic upheaval wasn't something Ben understood. He guessed he never would, being a bachelor. Growing up, his grandparents had rarely raised their voices in anger, neither toward each other nor him.
"I'm leaving, I ain't eatin' that slop." Derek Thompson called his wife something better suited to female dogs than to a young woman. The man didn't meet Ben's eyes as he blew on past him in the hallway. From behind the door Ben heard Mary Thompson sobbing uncontrollably. She didn't meet his gaze either, instead closing the door quietly and turning the dead bolt. For a split second he saw her face before reaching his door. Her mahogany hair looked disheveled and her blue eyes were red and puffy. A sense of long-suffering sadness emanated from her whole face. Ben shook his head, feeling sorry for the young woman. The mountie felt at a loss as to what to do. It wasn't really any of his business if they argued.
Scene Break
A few days later …
Saturday was Ben's one day off, and so far neither the consulate nor Ray had called looking for him. Diefenbaker stood near the door as the off duty mountie walked out of the small bed room trying to straighten the collar of his red and black, flannel shirt. His hiking boots thumped across the hardwood floor.
"You aren't getting any jelly doughnuts, I've asked Mr. Perkins not to give them to you anymore." The white wolf laid down beside the door, no longer interested in going grocery shopping.
"Dief, don't pout, you know how you get when you eat too many sweets." Ben closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He'd never met a human as stubborn as this one sixty pound wolf.
"Fine, stay if you wish, but I'm still not getting any jelly doughnuts." Ben grabbed his leather jacket and his hat before leaving. He didn't bother to lock the door, Dief was enough of a deterrent to keep the burglars away.
Once outside the apartment building Ben set off in his usual, efficient pace. It didn't take long to walk three blocks to the farmer's market. Quite a few vendors had vegetables out for sale. Things such as hydroponic tomatoes, peas, lettuce, green onions, new potatoes, and imported from Mexico there were cantaloupes and two different varieties of watermelons. Among the edibles there were flowers of all kinds either to decorate the table or to plant in the front yard. Ben didn't really notice the glances from female shoppers, both married and single as he chose a few things and put them in the basket hanging from one arm. He almost didn't see Mary until they reached for the same fist sized tomato.
"Pardon me." Ben withdrew his hand, taking notice of the young woman.
"Constable Fraser, hello." She too pulled back from the juicy fruit.
"Go ahead, please." The mountie handed it to her with a kind smile.
"Thank you." She reached up to brush a strand of her mahogany hair back over her ear, black and purple marks peeking out from the sleeve of her denim jacket. Mary saw his gaze land on the hand print around her wrist. Each of Derek's fingers were as clear as if it were paint instead of a painful bruise.
"That looks painful." Ben stepped closer, his voice low so as not to draw attention.
"It's nothing, really." Mary pulled her jacket sleeve down, red creeping up her face. Ben looked at his hiking boots a second, debating what to say. His green eyes rose to meet her blue ones.
"It's only nothing as long as you let it be nothing, Mrs. Thompson." She looked up at him, his gaze boring into her.
"Derek and I were just playing around, he doesn't know his own strength. He's really just a big teddy bear." It sounded like an excuse even to her but there it was anyway.
"Ah." Ben intoned, looking at his boots again. Even in the far, far, very far north, he'd worked domestic abuse cases. That bruise wasn't from 'just playing around'. Ben considered men who mistreated women the lowest form of animal.
"I have to be going, Constable Fraser." Mary shoved the tomato into a plastic vegetable bag and turned to go. Ben could only watch her retreating form as she headed toward the check out counter. He could only shake his head as he watched, wondering why such a lovely, young woman would put up with a husband like that. If Ben didn't understand why men did it, he certainly didn't understand why women put up with it. There were too many laws and sources of help to put up with an abusive spouse. Sometimes the mountie missed his black and white world back in the Yukon.
Ben wrapped up his shopping and went back to the apartment. Diefenbaker was still sitting beside the door, pouting. Seeing his furry friend took some of the nagging anger out of the mountie.
"Come on, I'll take you for a walk." Ben put his groceries away and pulled out the doggie treats he kept hidden in the back of the cabinet. Diefenbaker took his sweet time getting up, letting Ben know he still wanted a jelly doughnut.
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