Careless ChildKarlene Kubat - 2
transfixed on rough water and drizzling skies. For a time sheattempted to think of the in-betweeness of ferries, not even tothink of it but to reside in that place, in that arrested timewhere one forgot what they were: commercial vessels bearinglives from point to point in routine, leisurely, or regrettedpassages. In that captive pause they collaborated as aloof andgraceful engines of escape, gliding over the timeless waters.She mused that she could actually chart some of her life by theroutes of ferries, having so frequently crossed various placidand stormy waters of the miraculously hydrated planet.The misty cyan-blue hills over by Sooke Harbour rose andfell on the horizon as the port edged up into the sky thendropped back into the choppy Juan de Fuca Strait. The steadyroll hinted of malaise, assisted by an anxiety which she hopedto dispel at her familiar and unfailing destination.Was she far enough away yet? No, she would never get farenough away, unable to run from what was inside. Deliverancewas only from immediate disintegration not from the underlyingcause.
Why can’t I get it right? Why can’t I ever get itright?
Finally she had found something which made her fall intoa stillness without the echo of self-accusation. Then itscontinuance reached a startling impasse -- so untenable she hadto run simply to free herself from the fear of
having but having not
. “You liar. Liar!” echoed her impulsive and regretted cry,a flimsy accusation that a child might make. She remembered theendearing bronze hand reaching out, hesitating a moment thendropping back in a tight fist. “It doesn’t matter how far awayyou go, Kate. One day you’ll look up and there I’ll be,” hismessage later pursued her, the memory easily flaying her heart.It was perpetual misery to think of her accusation, herconfused conduct. It did not fit the moment that had engendered