Romance Novella 6
Tasma finished the Deborah Ellis trilogy, "The Breadwinner," "Parvana's Journey" and "Mud City." Then moved along to Norma Klein, Anne Fine and Barbara Corcoran. Her reading skills in English were improving rapidly and she was learning and having fun. Back in days of M/Cpl Boisvert, hadn't even bothered with the sports section, though it was available in the mess for free.
Doing the math, only three more student loan payments.
Gerald swore aloud as he tore open the envelope from the insurance company. $3,500 for a year? Obscene, that's seven times what a Captain in AAW got for yearly salary. Still, what choice? Life in the metro area was tough without wheels. They held you hostage, as did the oil companies, as did the dealerships, with all the repair of that computerized hoohaw.
Next day, all four tires were slashed. Revenue people seeking revenge? Or random vandals? No one else's car was touched so he suspected the former.
They refused his credit card for the tires, said it was maxed out. Humiliated, he'd phoned the banker about an overdraft. This worthy had made him sweat before granting it. He didn't miss the sly smile of the cashier, she'd been enjoying that. B****!
Tasma didn't have cable TV. All she watched was hockey every Saturday evening on the French channel of CBC, Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.
As she watched Montreal steam roller their way to victory over arch rival Toronto, she loved every minute.
Gerald's Saturday movie went less well, died half way through. When he phoned the cable company to complain, he was informed it was not a system problem, but non payment of bill.
A few minutes later, his brother called, asked if he'd received an invitation to the family reunion.
"Yes."
Hesistant, embarassed manner, "Ma insisted it be sent to everyone. But I'm telling you, for your own good, don't go. Ma will be the only one giving you a friendly reception."
Too stunned to argue, he hung up.
Angrily, he clicked the remote onto English CBC. Swore aloud. Montreal was clobbering Toronto 8 to 1. What a day!
There was an almost full bottle of vodka in the fridge, untouched since the change of ownership of the body. But now it was too much to ask to leave it untouched. With orange juice, it slid down smoothly.
We-ell, Gerald's body was out of practice. As for Amanda it was first time ever. The hangover defied all belief, unable to hold down food for two days.
A shaken Gerald showed for work Monday, vowing never again for booze.
Tasma showed for work looking better than ever. She'd gotten into the habit of long walks on Saturdays and Sundays, lost some weight, her skin glowed. Yes things were going just fine. Thank heavens Father Henri had been kind.
By now Gerald was starting to experience fear. The AAW crowd had been vocal, but never physical. Revenooers were a tad different. One whole audit team, on a business trip in a small town, ended up in a bar rumble. One collector assaulted another on a road trip. A collections team leader ended up in hospital after being assaulted in the parking lot by ruffians unknown.
Gerald bought a pellet pistol. Would not actually do much, just give some getaway time, but at least it was legal. Carried it everywhere.
Management figured a way to deal with Gerald. His job description was generic at the AS1 Administrator rank. They simply rotated him to accounts payable, gave travel to a more laidback person. Gradually the temperature cooled, but Gerald continued to carry the pistol out of fear of the city crime level.
The first time Tasma saw Gerald was an auspicious event. Education Curriculum books are in the basement. That is, material that College of Education students, future teachers, will use on their future pupils. Other areas held things like education psychology. Some of these were massively thick tomes.
Tasma was reshelving, when she heard a loud noise. Peering through a gap in the books, it seems a man two aisles over had had one of these land on his toe.
Swearing furiously but quietly, Gerald drew his pellet pistol. In a fury, shot it at a book. Missed, hit a metal divider, bounced back zinging his hand. After a moment of sucking his hand, he decided it might be wise to leave for now.
It was all Tasma could do to not laugh, so ridiculous was he. Yet something jabbed the back of her mind. Said there was an Afghan connection there, hmm wonder how.
After a coffee in the student lounge, he was cooled off. Realized it would be best to avoid that library for a bit. After all, he could see the same book in Humanities and Social Sciences library. Thank heavens no one had seen him, he chuckled.
Doing the math, only three more student loan payments.
Gerald swore aloud as he tore open the envelope from the insurance company. $3,500 for a year? Obscene, that's seven times what a Captain in AAW got for yearly salary. Still, what choice? Life in the metro area was tough without wheels. They held you hostage, as did the oil companies, as did the dealerships, with all the repair of that computerized hoohaw.
Next day, all four tires were slashed. Revenue people seeking revenge? Or random vandals? No one else's car was touched so he suspected the former.
They refused his credit card for the tires, said it was maxed out. Humiliated, he'd phoned the banker about an overdraft. This worthy had made him sweat before granting it. He didn't miss the sly smile of the cashier, she'd been enjoying that. B****!
Tasma didn't have cable TV. All she watched was hockey every Saturday evening on the French channel of CBC, Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.
As she watched Montreal steam roller their way to victory over arch rival Toronto, she loved every minute.
Gerald's Saturday movie went less well, died half way through. When he phoned the cable company to complain, he was informed it was not a system problem, but non payment of bill.
A few minutes later, his brother called, asked if he'd received an invitation to the family reunion.
"Yes."
Hesistant, embarassed manner, "Ma insisted it be sent to everyone. But I'm telling you, for your own good, don't go. Ma will be the only one giving you a friendly reception."
Too stunned to argue, he hung up.
Angrily, he clicked the remote onto English CBC. Swore aloud. Montreal was clobbering Toronto 8 to 1. What a day!
There was an almost full bottle of vodka in the fridge, untouched since the change of ownership of the body. But now it was too much to ask to leave it untouched. With orange juice, it slid down smoothly.
We-ell, Gerald's body was out of practice. As for Amanda it was first time ever. The hangover defied all belief, unable to hold down food for two days.
A shaken Gerald showed for work Monday, vowing never again for booze.
Tasma showed for work looking better than ever. She'd gotten into the habit of long walks on Saturdays and Sundays, lost some weight, her skin glowed. Yes things were going just fine. Thank heavens Father Henri had been kind.
By now Gerald was starting to experience fear. The AAW crowd had been vocal, but never physical. Revenooers were a tad different. One whole audit team, on a business trip in a small town, ended up in a bar rumble. One collector assaulted another on a road trip. A collections team leader ended up in hospital after being assaulted in the parking lot by ruffians unknown.
Gerald bought a pellet pistol. Would not actually do much, just give some getaway time, but at least it was legal. Carried it everywhere.
Management figured a way to deal with Gerald. His job description was generic at the AS1 Administrator rank. They simply rotated him to accounts payable, gave travel to a more laidback person. Gradually the temperature cooled, but Gerald continued to carry the pistol out of fear of the city crime level.
The first time Tasma saw Gerald was an auspicious event. Education Curriculum books are in the basement. That is, material that College of Education students, future teachers, will use on their future pupils. Other areas held things like education psychology. Some of these were massively thick tomes.
Tasma was reshelving, when she heard a loud noise. Peering through a gap in the books, it seems a man two aisles over had had one of these land on his toe.
Swearing furiously but quietly, Gerald drew his pellet pistol. In a fury, shot it at a book. Missed, hit a metal divider, bounced back zinging his hand. After a moment of sucking his hand, he decided it might be wise to leave for now.
It was all Tasma could do to not laugh, so ridiculous was he. Yet something jabbed the back of her mind. Said there was an Afghan connection there, hmm wonder how.
After a coffee in the student lounge, he was cooled off. Realized it would be best to avoid that library for a bit. After all, he could see the same book in Humanities and Social Sciences library. Thank heavens no one had seen him, he chuckled.
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