Thank you for your continued support, Nutmeg9cat. We well know how real life prevents us from doing what we would like. Right now, telling this tale is helping Mairead to keep from being overwhelmed by her own real-life problems. ~B. Fraser

Read on and enjoy.

Chapter Thirty-five: PR (Parent Relations)

Before I continue into the emotional drama of Ray's parents' call, I'll give you a moment of comic relief from the end of January, 2018. Ray and I have been using the extensive resources of the Internet to jog our memories about our past experiences. As alters, we don't know any more than Mairead knows. However, we sometimes find we know things that she doesn't remember learning. For instance, Levi taught Eren how to throw a stronger punch while in this world, and while Mairead has a vague memory of a karate instructor telling her class about chi and other points, she doesn't remember learning the actual mechanics of it. You might say that Levi, through trial and error, awakened her muscle memory. Or you might say Levi simply passed knowledge he already had to Eren, who did not have it.

In any case, if I forget the name of one of the Canadian territories (which is quite embarrassing, I must say) due to the fact that Mairead memorized them as a child and then promptly forgot them after she finished her geography course, I can simply look up a map of Canada and see the territories spread out before me on a screen. In doing some of this memory-jogging, I recalled seeing the film The Passion of Joan of Arc, and to my dismay, I had no memory of the film, since Mairead had not seen it, herself.

One thing led to another, and we managed to find the film. The others chattered and ate chips while the film began rolling out explanations of its long and disaster-riddled history.

Ray complained to the others, "Be quiet. I can't hear the movie." When they were quiet, he said, "I still can't hear the movie. Fraser, there's no sound."

"It's a silent movie, Ray," I told him.

"Silent! What's the point o' that?!"

"Considering all the film has been through, we're lucky to be watching a restored version." As it turned out, we were watching what was probably the full original version with complementary music and French text. Levi and I being the only ones comfortable with the language, the others were less than enthusiastic.

Eren, at least, managed to find some amusement in the film's history. "Joan of Arc was burnt at the stake, right? And the film was lost to fire twice? Man, it's a curse."

That got a smile from Ray. He suggested it may have been arson at the hands of those who objected to the controversial aspects of the film, and he may not be wrong. I suppose we'll never know.

We didn't get around to actually watching the movie, though. That came just today, in fact. I had to pause to translate from the French, and occasionally look up a word or idiomatic expression with which Levi and I were not familiar. Though we remained fairly serious for most of it, when the saint was asked whether or not she could tell the difference between a good angel and a bad angel, Ray erupted, "Kick 'im in the head, Joan!" I don't think he recognized the irony of the fact that he usually expresses the desire to kick someone in the head when he is doing the interrogating.

Another good point Ray made (after getting over his dislike for not being able to hear the actors' voices) was that silent films seemed to do what contemporary ones failed to: skip the superfluous. In this film (and others of its ilk), one often sees the actors' lips moving, but only a few times does one see text to tell what is being said. This is because the emotion is carried in the actors' faces. One need not hear the exact words to understand what transpires before him. If "talking pictures" followed a similar principle with the added resource of sound, perhaps films would be a lot shorter, or able to fit in more relevant content.

Now, I will resume where I left off...

The phone ringing startled Ray as he was pouring milk into his coffee. He wiped up the drops of spilled milk as he reached for the phone with his free hand. "Hello?" His eyes widened. "Dad... Um... I was gonna call. And then I got this case. And then a friend of mine was almost kidnapped..."

An irate voice came through the phone, making Ray cringe.

"Uh... I, uh..."

I couldn't believe Ray had failed to alert his parents that he was home. Still, I felt the urge to rescue my friend and held out my hand for the phone.

"Um, Dad, Fraser's here."

I could hear enough of the strident answer to tell me that Damian Kowalski had no desire to speak to me. I retracted my hand.

"I'm sorry," Ray said. "It... it's just that some really big things have been going on... I know, I know." He sounded pitiful. "I wanna tell you everything that's been going on. It's just been a lot. Look, why don't you head over here right now and I'll tell you all about it. Everything. Okay?" He seemed to hold his breath, waiting.

Then his expression changed slightly. "Mom... I'm sorry. I know you must have been really worried and I should have let you know as soon as we got back. It's just been one thing after another. I told Dad you could come over now if you want. I don't have to go to the station today."

We might not be working on the table today after all, I realized. But family was much more important.

There was an even deeper contriteness to Ray's voice as he said, "Yeah... I'm really sorry."

I again wished to help and held out my hand for the phone.

"Mom, Fraser's here... No. It's fine. I'll explain everything when you get here, okay?"

I put my hand down.

"Love you, too," Ray said after a pause. Then he hung up. "Damn it, damn it, damn it..."

I patted Ray's shoulder. "I didn't realize they didn't know. I should have asked if you'd been in touch with them yet..."

"No, it's not your fault. I'm their son. I should have called them. Who goes out of the country for over a month and doesn't call his folks when he gets back? Me, that's who."

"You did call them from Canada," I reminded him, hoping to cheer him up a little.

"Yeah... forever ago. Last time I did, we were on King William Island with really bad reception."

"But they're coming over now?"

"Yeah."

"Perhaps I should leave."

"No. Please, don't leave." He sounded worried.

"Ray, there's nothing to be afraid of."

"Easy for you to say—your parents are dead!"

I wasn't sure how to respond.

"Uh... sorry," Ray said, his face flushing, "that... that wasn't..."

"It's all right," I said. Things were awkward enough without worrying about every slip of the tongue.

"Look, uh... let's work on your table until they get here, okay? I need something to keep me busy."

I agreed. We were both too distracted to discuss the Hall case now, but that could wait.

When Ray's parents arrived, I did my best to keep the emotional climate cool, and was met mostly with success. Damian took an interest in the table and even helped apply some stain while Ray and I filled them in on our activities over the last two months.

Barbara offered to make lunch for us, but her menfolk dissuaded her. The Kowalski parents left us on fairly peaceful terms, though the atmosphere at their parting was tense.

Ray leaned on my closed front door, closing his eyes. "Why do I screw everything up, Fraser?"

The question rested on a false premise, so I said, "I can't give you a reason for something that doesn't exist, Ray."

"Huh?"

"You don't screw everything up."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Sandwich?"

"Sure."

I fixed us both some ham and cheese sandwiches, and Ray's demeanor seemed to strengthen a bit as he ate. When we finished, he said he needed to clean up his apartment, and I saw him out.

The table was essentially done, so I gathered up the excess newspaper and set it aside to use when I stained the chairs to match. Then I remembered the oatmeal I had never put away, so I tasted a little of it. It wasn't the best consistency, but it wasn't rancid, either. I sealed it in a plastic container and put it in the refrigerator, much to Dief's disappointment.

We went out for a short time, picking up a few grocery staples, and then I sat down with the book I'd been reading. Time ticked away until Ray came back into my apartment, again objecting to my leaving it unlocked. He invited us to supper, which we accepted.

Ray caught me up on the attempted kidnapping case over macaroni and cheese. Afterward he got out some Oreo cookies, which Diefenbaker was grumpy about, due to not being allowed to partake of them.

In spite of missing open country, I was starting to get comfortable in our apartment life. I thought my father's imagined misgivings had been unfounded. Seeing more of Ray wasn't a big irritation. It was nice. It was like having family close by again.

Very different, of course, from living with my grandparents. They had been my caregivers, and other than household chores, I had given them little in return. Living near Ray was a different dynamic, one of give and take. We supported each other, challenged each other, argued a bit, encouraged a bit. Watching him dunk an Oreo into a tumbler of milk, I thought This is like growing up with a brother.

He looked up and caught me staring. "What, you never dunked before?"

"No, I have. Just not for a long time."

"Well, that's how you're s'posed to do it."

"I thought there was no wrong way to eat them."

"That's Reese's, man. Go on, dunk."

I dunked.

The next morning I had my breakfast of leftover oatmeal and got ready for the day. I had just finished shaving and getting dressed when Diefenbaker barked and scratched at the front door.

I put my head out into the living area. "You can wait another minute," I scolded.

He barked at me, louder.

I looked at my watch. It was after seven, but I doubted Ray was up yet. He might be having a nightmare again. "All right, I'm coming."

I knocked on Ray's door a moment later and then put my ear to it, listening. I couldn't hear anything but a very faint rustle; then nothing. I knocked again.

"Benton?"

I looked up to see Barbara Kowalski coming toward me. "Ah, Barbara."

"Is everything all right?" she asked.

Dief barked and I smiled with chagrin. "I was going to see Ray, but I'm not sure if he's up yet..."

"Not to worry. I have a key," she said, smiling. "If I'd only come over to dust in the last couple of weeks, I'd have realized he was back, but I sort of let it go after a while."

"If we had thought to warn you, I'm sure you'd have had it ship-shape for his return," I said.

She unlocked the door and we went inside.

Ray was up by this time, and not happy at the intrusion. His remarks were rather clipped and his expression sour.

When the bathroom door closed behind him, I said, "I've found he's not much for mornings."

"No," said Barbara, shaking her head. "It was always hard getting him ready for school on time, poor little thing. Of course, he used to get bullied sometimes..." She leaned closer to me and dropped her voice. "You wouldn't think so to look at him now, but he was a little bit chubby in middle school."

"I never would have guessed," I said. Ray was one of the thinnest men I knew.

Barbara went into the kitchen area and started brewing some coffee. Then she pulled a box of eggs out of the refrigerator and soon had a couple frying on the stove. "Are you hungry, Benton?"

I shook my head. "I've had breakfast, thank you." As Dief started making noise, I added, "As has Diefenbaker. But I'm sure Ray will be glad of a hearty breakfast. He's going to court today."

Ray emerged from the bathroom, looking less irritable. He came to sit beside me at the bar. "Sorry," he said.

"Oh, it's all right, dear," Barbara said. "You're just tired. Benton tells me you have a big day today."

"Yeah... have to go to court for an arraignment. Or four."

Eventually, the conversation turned to Ray's father, and I began to feel as if I were intruding.

"He really missed you, Sta—Ray. We moved out here to be near you, you know."

"I know, but... it's not like I asked you to," Ray said quietly.

That sounded potentially explosive. "Perhaps I should..." I started, moving to get up.

Ray put his hand firmly on my shoulder. "Stay."

I relaxed. "Very well..."

"I know you didn't," Barbara said, flipping the eggs onto a plate. "And I know you and your dad have been a little... well, he's really trying to make things better. I think he's just a bit frustrated."

"Yeah." He took the plate from her. "You eaten?" He asked me.

"Yes, thank you," I answered. When Dief put his paw on Ray's leg, I added, "And so has Dief."

Dief made a very immature and unbecoming noise for a wolf.

Ray shrugged. "Sorry, pal. Alpha has spoken."

I ventured to ask Ray about his nightmare while he drove me to the consulate. He told me it concerned his dog that had died and I asked if he would consider getting another one. When he said he didn't have the time, I suggested a police dog, which he said he might consider.

Then I remembered that I had also had a troubling dream the night before. I described it to him, but he couldn't shed any light on it for me. He agreed to pick me up again when it was time to go to the courthouse and drove off.

American court proceedings are fascinating to me, and I looked forward to the arraignment so much that I'm afraid I may not have paid my full attention to my duties at the consulate. I admired the way Assistant District Attorney Kowalski confidently presented information to the judge, and I thought that RayV's courtroom demeanor had improved since I last saw it.

RayK seemed bored, and distracted by his ex-wife's presence. Still, he was nothing but civil and polite to her when we went to lunch. I thought he was making a good effort to give her the distance she wanted.

When we got to Passero's and De Luca's arraignments, things got more interesting, still. Their lawyers were full of quick wits and Latin terms. Knowing some Latin, I was able to follow their arguments, and knew before Lt. Welsh summed things up for us afterward that they weren't going to make it easy to convict their clients of any crimes.

It was on our way out of Welsh's office that I saw Francesca trying to warm her hands, which sparked my realization of what had been wrong in my dream. The grave contained a man, not a woman. If it wasn't really a woman, it might also not be an Inuit. It might also not be "unnamed." Perhaps the name was well-known. Perhaps, for some reason, Franklin had become separated from his party. Perhaps the Inuit had taken pity on him and sheltered him. Perhaps he had been buried there. But it was against Inuit custom of the day to treat an outsider like part of the tribe. Perhaps someone buried him near their own graves and concealed his identity to avoid being shunned by their people. It was a hunch... a rather far-fetched one... but it wasn't impossible.

And as Sherlock Holmes said, when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

Ray took a lot of persuading, even to get him to admit I had a viable theory. He protested that he couldn't leave on such short notice, and when I tried to persuade him further, he declared emphatically, "Fraser, I can't."

He sounded as if his mind was made up. Mine was also made up. Now that I had thought of this idea, I knew it wouldn't leave me. I couldn't not go. But it had been Ray who proposed our quest in the first place. I tried to imagine arriving in Gjoa Haven without him. I couldn't.

"I don't want to go without you..." I said quietly.

"I don't want you to go without me, either." He closed his eyes for a moment while stopped at a traffic light. Then he sighed. "Look... suppose you convince me we have reason to believe Franklin might be in the grave. And suppose I work something out with my friend. You think the Netsilik are gonna let us wreck their tourist attraction? Or that the Gjoa Haven officials are gonna be happy about us digging up a grave on their turf?"

"Depending on the outcome of the exhumation, the tourist attraction might become even more lucrative due to the discovery," I pointed out. "As for the officials, I would make a request through the proper channels. With good fortune, it might be granted by the time we got there."

He still looked unhappy. "It's so cold up there..."

"But we're coming into summer, so the days will be longer."

"Whoop-dee-doo. So, it'll be thirty degrees instead of twenty."

I knew that was likely to be the high, if we were lucky, and not in centigrade measurement. "In Fahrenheit, perhaps," I muttered.

"I heard that."

"We managed last time."

"My fingers started to turn blue. I thought I was going to lose them."

I didn't let myself think about that in detail. I had been very worried for my friend at the time, and I didn't need to show that worry now. "But you didn't."

We arrived at the consulate. He was silent a long moment. Then he said, "Go get your wolf. And then... convince me."

Inspector Lam agreed to let me have the rest of the day off, since my shift was technically over, even though I had scarcely done any work there that day. I got Dief and returned to Ray's car. I spent the trip home explaining my hunch to him, and why I thought we had sufficient reason to investigate.

I knew he was reluctant, but I could also see a glint in his eye. A glint that was born of the idea I was transferring to him. What if it's true? What if he's there? He was still divided by the time we got home, but I thought he was a little more on my side. If things worked out, he would go. We would go together.

Thank you for reading, and please leave a comment if you have the time. ~B. Fraser