Yesterday was the second wave for this story idea, as it explored the 1990s. The day before was the first wave as it explored the 1970s. Welcome to the 21 Century. Lots of new characters to go over here. And, there’s even a couple of pictures to go with these ones.
The year is 2000
Ending the 1990s, a manhunt began for Raven Running Cloud as an Amber Alert was issued. Raven went missing after a house fire killed Miranda Running Cloud, wife of Maxwell Running Cloud. Together with a colleague at the University of Saskatchewan where Max was a professor, they developed a suit and wing harness. He dubbed himself The Hawk as he began his search for his daughter in his own way, and fought street crime and tried to get First Nations kids off the streets and into a better life.
In 2001, the world watched as terrorists crashed planes into the World Trade Centre. In Petawawa, Ontario, soldiers at the base watched the morning news in shock. It wasn’t soon after that Canada joined the United States in a large manhunt for the leader of the attacks, Osama bin Laden. Among those soldiers sent was Peter Simonson, captain in 2 Canadian Mechanized Brigade Unit, husband of Lieutenant Naomi Running Cloud. Together they have a son. Peter is ordered to join the operations in Afghanistan, while Naomi stays in Petawawa. Four months later, Peter is killed in action. Not long after, CSIS Paranormal Division approaches Naomi. She is given a suit and calls herself The Grey Kestrel.
CSIS Paranormal Division itself was an oddity. Officially, it didn’t exist. It was developed in the Second World War as a branch of a similar organization developed by the British Government. The reason why it officially didn’t exist was because only one operative within the agency was actually human; Naomi Running Cloud. The world she entered was one that was often thought to live in nightmare and fantasy. The director was a half vampire, the assistant director a Medusa, various goblins, trolls, half dragons, and other beings thought only to live in myth were among the in house agents, a few werewolves and half vampires were field agents. They even had mermaids among their ranks.
In 2002, Johnathon Tiberius Walker (known as Operative Violet Rose) sets in plan his and his unit’s escape from the underground paramilitary organization known as The Red Hand. Together with his operatives Omega Six, Crimson Luna, Indigo Beta, and Grey 6-2-6, Walker tries to deceive the deceivers during an op in Columbus, Ohio. It appears things may go wrong when Operative Pravda, a former KGB Agent named Dimitri Kovolenko, and members of a second secret organization called The Sisterhood. Filled with female assassins, the Sisterhood can lay claim to thousands of political assassinations over the last 100 years. They could, but they don’t. The Sisterhood is a ghost organization that The Red Hand has a loose alliance with. This group includes two operatives only known as Sister White and Sister Eventide. With the assistance of The Hawk and Grey Kestrel, Walker and his crew manage to part ways with The Red Hand, Dimitri Kovolenko is arrested, and Sister White breaks ties with the Sisterhood. Walker and Omega Six (also known as Malcolm Montgomery Watt) escape to the Mediterranean and are soon joined by Sister White. But not before she manages to stop an assassination attempt of Derek Stewart. Sadly, Maxine Wollcot, who has worked with the Stewart family for twenty years, is killed. Maxine’s sister, Marianne Wollcot was on hand to witness it. Marianne is also known as Sister White. (for complete details on the Columbus, Ohio incident, please see Canyons of Steel: A Modern Day Western). Kovolenko is taken to Siberia, where he is transferred to Major Lina Gregarin, a member of the Red Army who is also secretly known as the Russian hero, Soviet Wing.
In 2003, evidence comes to Max that points to a secret research facility in Northern Saskatchewan. It is suggested his daughter, Raven, is being held there. He contacts Naomi, she contacts her superior, Colonel Richard Adams. The three decide that it’s best to go in with a super team, and bring in Mariah, Tim and Tamara. What they don’t know is that the Mannekin also knows about this facility, and together with Black Bowman and recent operative, Moquette (who is, in fact, former Sisterhood agent, Sister Eventide, who killed Maxine Wollcot), are already aware of this facility. Donelda, who has finally woken from her coma, asks Melanie to look out for Derek. Melanie manages to talk to Regina, Jean Pierre and Richard, and convinces them all to come out of semi retirement to aid her. Their objective is to make sure Derek doesn’t do anything stupid. When the two groups meet, it’s Naomi and Melanie who manage to avert a superhero smack down (which was primarily instigated by Derek). The groups go into the facility, with Naomi’s group looking for Raven, and Melanie and Mannekin’s group gather information to implicate Mandrake.
Also, up to this point, Jean Pierre Turgeon discovers his daughter Dominique, has uncovered old newspaper clippings about his old heroics as Canadien. He believes it to be innocent, but it would turn out to be very different. In Windsor, Richard is pleased that his daughter Nikki has taken an interest in robotics, and feels a sense of pride when she wins a science fair award for her development of “Robbie”, a robot that is programmed to have a sensitive and emotional conversation with whomever it is talking to. Even to the point of stating to those who may interrupt the conversation “excuse me, but I am currently speaking with this person. I can talk to you once we are finished” in polite manners.
In Hamilton, Ontario, the Canadian Football League team, the Hamilton Tiger-Cats sign non import receiver Harold Mimms to a multi year contract. No one puts together the connection that once Mimms arrives in Hamilton, so to does a mysterious crime fighter known only as The Owl.
The Hawk: A.K.A Maxwell Running Cloud
Weight: 215 lbs
Place of Birth: Outlook, Saskatchewan
Date of Birth: June 2, 1970
Racial Background: First Nation (Dakota)
Education: Native American history and Archaeology
Monetary Status: Middle Class
Marital status: widower
Base of Operations: Saskatoon, Saskatchewan
Grey Kestrel: A.K.A Naomi Simonson (nee Running Cloud)
Weight: 195 lbs
Place of Birth: Silver Spring, Saskatchewan
Date of Birth: October 2, 1968
Racial Background: First Nation (Dakota)
Education: Military, political science, engineering
Monetary Status: Middle Class
Marital status: widow
Base of Operations: Petawawa, Ontario
Operative Violet Rose: A.K.A Derringer, A.K.A Johnathon Tiberius Walker
Weight: 200 lbs
Place of Birth: San Antonio, Texas
Date of Birth: December 15, 1954
Racial Background: White
Education: Career Military
Monetary Status: inapplicable
Marital status: single
Base of Operations: inapplicable
Omega Six: A.K.A Monty, A.K.A Malcolm Montgomery Watt
Weight: 220 lbs
Place of Birth: Sydney, Australia
Date of Birth: March 5, 1965
Racial Background: White
Education: Career Military
Monetary Status: inapplicable
Marital status: single
Base of Operations: inapplicable
Sister White: A.K.A Marianne Wollcot
Weight: 145 lbs
Place of Birth: Swansea, Wales
Date of Birth: February 27, 1963
Racial Background: White
Monetary Status: inapplicable
Marital status: single
Base of Operations: inapplicable
Sister Eventide: A.K.A Moquett, A.K.A Darla Drobsky
Weight: 145 lbs
Place of Birth: Glasgow, Scotland
Date of Birth: December 1, 1967
Racial Background: White
Monetary Status: inapplicable
Marital status: single
Base of Operations: inapplicable
The Owl: A.K.A Harold Mimms
Weight: 235 lbs
Place of Birth: Halifax, Nova Scotia
Date of Birth: February 1, 1979
Racial Background: Black
Education: mathematician, English literature, astrophysics
Monetary Status: Upper Middle Class
Marital status: single
Base of Operations: Hamilton, Ontario
Last time, I detailed the first wave of the Heroic League, during the 1970s. This time, fast forward 20 years. A lot has happened, and this is an outline. Unfortunately, there are no images I can put up.
The year is 1990.
By this time, Regina Morgan-Simms has retired from a life of a crime fighter, as has Donelda Stewart. Jean Pierre Turgeon has ended his costume crime fighting days as he and his wife now have a young daughter, and another soon on the way. Richard Hargrove is still Yellow Jacket, and has just finalized his third divorce after he finally admitted that he was gay. Adding to that, his young son came out saying he felt more like a girl. After a while, Richard has come to terms with this and has taken to calling his former son Nicolas, now his daughter, Nikki.
By the end of the 80s, beginning of the 90s, the world of sports changes. At least in Canada. Two individuals are given credit with helping the 1989 Saskatchewan Roughriders for winning that year’s Grey Cup; Inside Receiver Tim Andrews and Linebacker Lewis Morgan. Andrews retires from football in the mid 90s and eventually marries Tamara Wattly, a nurse in Overview, Saskatchewan. Lewis Morgan is hired shortly after his retirement from football in 1991, as chief of security for the main research building at Stewart Industries in Vancouver.
By the mid 90s, certain players begin to make themselves noticed. In a small town called Silver Spring, on the Whitecap Dakota First Nation in Saskatchewan, a woman accepts a position as doctor at the hospital. Dr. Fadra Englen, of Palestinian descent, was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Silver Spring is a small town, a population consisting of mostly those of Middle Eastern, Pakistani, Indian and Chinese descent. Silver Spring has the largest Muslim community in Saskatchewan. Maxwell Running Cloud, also from the Whitecap Dakota First Nation, graduates from the University of British Columbia with a degree in Native American History and Archaeology. His sister, Naomi Running Cloud, returns from her fourth tour with Canadian Armed Forces and international peace keeping missions.
Melanie Coopers is still active as Britannia, finding that the augmentation done to her has kept her aging process slowed down. She receives medical assistance from Donelda, who has focused more on science. Dr. Fadra Englen is also called in from time to time. During this time, Melanie is granted her full British citizenship back.
Toward the latter half of the 90s, a tragedy does finally occur. A bomb explodes in a Halifax hotel, killing Gerald Stewart, placing Donelda Stewart in critical condition in hospital where she’d be in a coma for a time, and also killing Elizabeth Mumford, fiance to Derek Stewart, Gerald and Donelda’s son. Derek is devastated, and the happy adult turned much much darker.
Four new heroes appear on the horizon in the 1990′s. Each is granted a special crystal that grants them incredible powers. All of these individuals are from Saskatchewan and together they are dubbed the Celestial Warriors by the media. Their real identities are secret, but due to the position of one of them, Colonel Richard Adams, the four are brought into a secret wing of CSIS dubbed The Paranormal Division.
Also in the 90s, Colonel Johnathon Tiberius Walker, United States Rangers, is given a dishonourable discharge from service. This was due to an incident from a mission that went horribly wrong while Rangers were deployed in Somalia. He is contacted by an organization called the Red Hand, and joins their ranks.
Toward the end of the decade, a rival bio-genetic company gives Stewart Industries a run of it’s money. Mandrake Bio-genetic Services comes on the scene. No one sees a coincidence between this company and those missing persons which suddenly crop up in what is described as an epidemic.
Emerald: A.K.A Richard Kyle Adams
Weight: 215 lbs
Place of Birth: North Battleford, Saskatchewan
Date of Birth: April 10, 1960
Racial Background: Black
Marital status: married (to Mariah Boggotah)
Education: Military, political science
Monetary status: Middle Class
Base of Operations: CFB 15-Wing (Canadian Forces Base Moose Jaw), Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan
Hydro: A.K.A Mariah Boggotah-Adams
Weight: 165 lbs
Place of Birth: Johannesburg, South Africa
Date of Birth: January 20, 1960
Racial Background: Black
Marital status: married (to Richard Adams)
Education: Environmental protection, water purification
Monetary status: Middle Class
Base of Operations: Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan
Prairie Fire: A.K.A Tim Andrews
Weight: 155 lbs
Place of Birth: Invermay, Saskatchewan
Date of Birth: June 9, 1965
Racial Background: White
Marital status: married (to Tamara Wattly)
Education: Physical trainer (former inside receiver for the Saskatchewan Roughriders)
Monetary status: Middle Class
Base of Operations: Overview, Saskatchewan
Tiger Lily: A.K.A Tamara Wattly
Weight: 135 lbs
Place of Birth: Yorkton, Saskatchewan
Date of Birth: April 2, 1965
Racial Background: White
Marital status: married (to Tim Andrews)
Education: Medicine, nursing
Monetary status: Middle Class
Base of Operations: Overview, Saskatchewan
Black Bowman: A.K.A Lewis Morgan
Weight: 225 lbs
Place of Birth: New Orleans, Louisianna
Date of Birth: September 21, 1957
Racial Background: Black
Marital status: single
Education: Security and investigations (former linebacker for the Saskatchewan Roughriders)
Monetary status: Middle Class
Base of Operations: Regina, Saskatchewan; Vancouver, British Columbia
The Mannekin II: A.K.A Derek Stewart
Weight: 200 lbs
Place of Birth: Vancouver, British Columbia
Racial Background: White
Education: Law, Commerce (self taught investigative abilities, martial arts training)
Monetary Status: Upper Class
Base of Operations: Vancouver, British Columbia
Welcome to: If Male Superhero Costumes were Designed Like Female Superhero Costumes!
Aaaaa I dunno. I got tired of guys having no idea why girls find female superhero’s costumes kinda sexist, so I, um, made this?
My main goals were: 1) Make it so the first thing you think of when you look at them is sex, whether you want to or not. 2) make it so that any male human who looks at this feels really uncomfortable. 3) make it funny, because, well, it’s kinda hilarious really.
Not trying to start a war here, just wanted to poke a bit of fun.
So, here you go menfolk, welcome to being a girl who likes comics.
And my own response:
Women in comics are meant to be objectified. At least, that’s the unspoken attitude. It’s a double standard treated on heroes of different gender. Male heroes are covered head to toe, while female heroes have to have as much skin showing as possible without it being called porn. From g-string bottoms to tops that barely cover their breasts. And yes, there are those characters that are fully clothed like Batgirl, Catwoman and Black Widow. But in the case of the latter two, they are often shown in a come hither pose with their front zipper down as low as it will go giving a glimpse that leaves not a lot to the imagination.
It goes further than that, to how men and women are treated in their heroic duties. Men are still the strong, confident individuals, usually tortured by some dark past. Either parents who were killed or witnesses to some great tragedy. And when it comes time for the hero to die, they do so on camera, fighting to the last against some unstoppable foe. Or they sacrifice themselves in order to save the greater whole. Women, on the other hand, are often killed off camera, and they are not shown in a fight to the last. Most often, their deaths come in the most ironic of places; the kitchen. As though that were some secret message from the writers and publishers. Stuffed in refrigerators, sprawled across the kitchen floor or even at times damaged beyond belief in their own bedroom.
There is a strong stereotype in comics, and for a while it was disappearing, but it’s come back with a vengeance. I just hope the writers who are against that type of portrayal will drown out the old school stereotypes.
- Male Superhero Costumes Designed Like Females (eoghann.com)
- If Male Superhero Costumes were … by Hur Dur Dur (noroom4angels.wordpress.com)
- Female Superhero Artwork (eoghann.com)
- Link Ink: Controversial Female Superhero Art, ‘Minecraft’ Lego Sets and Drug Avengers (comicsalliance.com)
- Female Superheroes: Batgirl (robot6.comicbookresources.com)
Panel 1, Left hand side, top row
Image shows Jean Pierre walking up the stairs of the house, the “camera” is behind him, one hand is on a wooden railing as he climbs the stairs, a window is seen at the top landing.
Narrator (Jean Pierre): I went upstairs with a mix of worry and slight anger. This was to be Dom’s birthday, and either she was acting somewhat selfish, which was something she was not often known for, or someone had done something to her.
Panel 2, Right hand side, top row
Image shows Jean Pierre at the top of the stairs, looking to his left down the hall, there is an attic doorway seen in the distance, it is open.
Narrotor (Jean Pierre): That worry changed to something else when I saw the attic door open.
Jean Pierre: Dom? What is wrong, honey? Why are you upset?
Panel 3, Left hand side, bottom row
Image shows Jean Pierre at the doorway of the attic, looking up the stairs.
Jean Pierre: Dom? Why are you up here? What could possibly be up here?
Panel 4, Right hand side, bottom row
Image shows the same doorway, but Jean Pierre is climbing the stairs as he disappears from view.
Narrator (Jean Pierre): I was only trying to fool myself, because I knew damn well what was in that attic.
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script Page 8 (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
Panel 1, Banner across top
Image shows the man and woman looking out the window as the girl helps her father with his coat (which happens to be a rather futile effort), a car is pulling up on the street outside.
Jean Pierre: Ah! There she is. The Mandervilles said they would pick her… (pauses)
Monique (concerned voice): Why is it just Regina driving? And I think I can see Dom and Michelle, but…
Panel 2, Left hand side, middle row
Through the window, they can see Dom getting out of the car and running up to the house.
Narrator (JPT): I could see the anguish in her face as she got out of the car. I could see the tears roll down her face, but they didn’t look like she’d been crying because she was sad.
Panel 3, Middle, middle row
Picture zooms in on Dom through the window, her face is contorted into a look of frustration, anger, sadness and confusion. Her hair is disheveled, the Gatsby cap gone.
Narrator (JPT): A feeling of dread came over me, as though I knew what was about to happen. As if this one event would set in motion everything to come. Because it did, in the end.
Panel 4, Right hand side, middle row
Dom bursts into the house, bawling her eyes out, her breath is heavy and she doesn’t seem to see anyone as she runs past her parents.
Jean Pierre (in a very concerned voice, arm reaching out to her): Dominique! What’s wrong?
Monique (just as concerned): Where are the others? Why is Regina driving Michelle home?
Panel 5, Left hand side, bottom row
Dom has left the kitchen, but there is the thumping of feet up a set of stairs, then another as Jean Pierre and Monique look on, each has a confused look on their faces.
Jean Pierre: I had better go see what the matter is. Wait for me here?
Monique (sighing as she looks to Jean Pierre): I’ll put things away. Just get her to calm down and find out what’s wrong.
Panel 6, Middle, bottom row
Image now has only Chloe and Monique, Chloe has retrieved her stuffed rabbit and is clutching it tightly, she looks very scared and confused.
Chloe (in a quiet voice as she looks up to Monique): No birthday?
Panel 7, Right hand side, bottom row
Monique kneels beside Chloe and pulls the small child into her arms, speaking in a soft, consoling tone, Chloe has small tears running down her cheeks.
Monique: No, little bunny, no birthday today. But maybe we will just delay it for now, hmmm?
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page 7 (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page 9 (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
Panel 1, Left hand side, top row
A large kitchen, a woman is preparing some cutlery and dishes, she is wearing a pair of comfortable slacks and a blouse, a small girl sits at the table, sort of in a protective mode over a cake that sits on top of it, the words “Happy 16, Dom!” writing in blue icing, the driveway is visible through the kitchen window.
Narrator (JPT): There are many things that I remember. The speed of my heartbeat the first night I took up the costumed uniform of Canadien, my very first kiss with Monique, Dom and Chloe’s birth. And the day Dom turned 16.
Panel 2, Middle, top row
A car pulls up into the driveway and the little girl looks up quickly and waves excitedly, the woman looks toward the window and smiles.
Chloe (waving excitedly): Papa is home!
Panel 3, Right hand side, top row
A man in the car is getting out and waves, the little girl rushes to the door as the woman places a few things on the table.
Narrator (JPT): It was the happiest moment, and one that brought about such a foreboding future. A mix of emotions that can tire even the most resolute.
Panel 4, Left hand side, middle row
The man walks into the house as the little girl run over to him, he is setting down a briefcase.
Chloe (with arms outstretched): Papa!
Jean Pierre (smiling as he holds an arm out for the girl): Ah ha! Chloe, been keeping your mother company?
Panel 5, Right hand side, middle row
The man is hugging the girl, he is bent down as she hugs his neck.
Chloe: I helped mama put the cake on the table, an’ I help watch it. An’ I never took any sneaks from it. No way!
Pierre Turgeon (laughing): Ah, that is good to hear, Chloe.
Panel 6, Left hand side, bottom row
Image shows the man and woman standing close, the man is holding the little girl in his arms, they are all smiling.
Jean Pierre: And how was your day?
Monique (a hand resting on Jean Pierre’s arm): The gallery opening was very successful. I will tell you all about it later tonight. And you?
Panel 7, Middle, bottom row
Image shows the man setting the little girl down as the woman still stands next to him.
Jean Pierre: Very uneventful. I’m waiting for a summer session of Parliament to start, however. Though, part of me hopes that the ministers will merely take a summer vacation.
Panel 8, Right hand side, bottom row
Image shows the man taking his coat off as the woman helps him. The little girl seems to hover around her parents.
Jean Pierre: Is Dom home yet?
Monique: No, not yet. She was supposed to be home about fifteen minutes ago. She should be along any moment.
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page 6 (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page 8 (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
Panel 1, Left hand side, Top row
Image focuses on Michelle, she is looking into the parking lot with a heavy shadow over her face, she doesn’t look impressed.
Michelle: Merde. It’s Marvin Quinnel. Bully o’ the school.
Panel 2, Right hand side, top row
Image is of three boys, one is heavy set with curly black hair, two others a much more slight, each is wearing baseball caps of different sport teams, one of the skinny boys has a tattered jean jacket.
Marvin (with a nasty grin on his face like he’s about to start something): Well, well. If it isn’t three of my favourite people. Most of which is Yves. An’ I think I remember I owe Yves somethin’. Ain’t that right, Tyler.
Tyler (scrawny kid with wispy blond hair under an ill fitting ball cap and wearing an old Megadeath band shirt, which sports a few holes): Yeah, Marv. I think Yves tried makin’ us look like idiots.
Panel 3, Left hand side, bottom row
Image focuses on Michelle, Dominique and Yves, all have a wary look about them.
Michelle (under her breath): Didn’t have to try very hard.
Yves (coughing with a look over to Michelle): Look, Marv. We don’t want any trouble. We’re just hangin’ out an’ gonna celebrate Dom’s birthday.
Panel 4, Right hand side, bottom row
Image focuses on both groups from above, more on Marvin and his friends, Tyler and the other boy are clutching their hands together as though cracking their knuckles, while Marvin has his arms crossed over his chest, he still has the same grin.
Marvin: Well, ain’t that a great thing ta hear. ‘Cause, boy do we have a birthday present.
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page 5 (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page 7 (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
Panel 1, Left hand side, top row
Image is overlooking a convenience store, there are two cars in the parking lot, a few people milling about, three people seen leaning against the wall near a few benches.
Narrator (JPT): I would like to say that this all began innocently enough. With some flight of fancy, and a simple desire to do good. But like most things, it did not.
Panel 2, Middle, Top row
Image zooms in on the three, one girl has ragged jeans, a tee shirt, long hair tucked up under a Gatsby cap, a backpack is on her shoulder and a skate board under one arm, the second girl is dressed in black, has short blond hair, ears, nose and eyebrow pierced and she’s wearing bangles on her wrists, ratty fishnets and black combat boots, the third is a young man, black with short hair and a small amount of facial hair, well trimmed, beige slacks and sandles, the three appear to be good friends and seem to be joking around a bit.
Dominique (in the Gatsby Cap, looking to the young man): When was Jacqueline gonna meet up with us?
Yves (the young man, leaning up against the wall next to Dominique): She had some practice for an upcomin’ track meet, so she said she was gonna be maybe an hour after class. So, we got another 20 minutes.
Panel 3, Right hand side, top row
Michelle (in black, grinning as she sits on the the back of a nearby bench, kicking her feet lightly): Hey, you seem a little anxious for somethin’, huh?
Dominique (shrugs and looking to Michelle): Well, it is my birthday today. Not everyday you turn 16.
Panel 4, Left hand side, middle row
Image shows all three, as Dominique looking toward the area of the camera as though looking back and forth between her friends.
Dominique: Okay, be honest with me. You guys are mostly just stallin’ while my parents do somethin’ to get ready, huh?
Panel 5, Middle, middle row
Image shows Michelle and Yves looking at each other and shrug, each has a Cheshire Cat grin.
Panel 6, Right hand side, middle row
Image has Michelle and Yves laughing and Dominique is looking up with what could be described as a telling sigh.
Dominique: I knew it.
Panel 7, left hand side, bottom row
Image focusing on Michelle, she is explaining something as she holds herself up on the bench backing.
Michelle: Hey, no matter what, you get to spend the day with all of us.
Panel 8, middle, bottom row
Image focusing on Yves, as he nods in agreement, we see a profile of Dominique.
Yves: Plus, we have a whole lot of gifts that need to be opened.
Dominique (blushing a bit): I thought I told you guys I don’t really care about that, just as long as we get to hang out. (pauses) Uh oh.
Panel 9, Right hand side, bottom row
Image is similar to Panel 8, but Dominique has a more serious look on her face as she is looking into the parking lot, Yves has a questioning look on his face.
Yves: What is it?
Dominique (in a quiet voice): Trouble.
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page 4 (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page 6 (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
Panel, full page
Image is of Jean Pierre, full body, standing in the attic, he is holding the uniform, a little tattered and faded, newspaper clippings, photos are strewn over the floor. His expression looks very down as he stands in the attic, there are other boxes sealed up and stacked in the background.
Narrator (JPT): Somehow I knew this day would come. I knew that Dom would demand that I put on the uniform again. Become Canadien again. But that is something for young people, not me. I have my place in the world. And there are other heroes out there. But I have to make a decision, and it just may be the hardest one I have ever made.
Title splash at the bottom of the image “LIKE FATHER, LIKE DAUGHTER”.
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page Three (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page Five (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
Panel 1, Left hand side, Top half
Image shows a girl in pigtails going through boxes, there are newspaper clippings and photos spilled onto the floor, the girl is holding a red and white uniform, the leggings are crumpled onto the floor as she tries to hold it up against her, there is a red maple leaf on the chest.
Narrator (JPT): Dom has always had a curious nature. She would get into things constantly. Sometimes it was frustrating, but it also was refreshing because I could use it as a way to teach her some valuable lessons.
Panel 2, Right hand side, Top half
Images shows the man, Dom and Chloe sitting in a lighted attic, he is holding a few newspaper clippings and seems to be talking as the two girls listen closely and look at the clippings he holds.
Narrator (JPT): In time, even Chloe heard these lessons in history, as they would both hear about the adventures I would have and the time period itself.
Panel 3, Left hand side, Bottom half
Image shows four young people, all playing instruments, Dom is playing a guitar, a blond girl is on drums, a young black woman is playing another guitar and a young black man is singing.
Narrator (JPT): I made both of them promise to keep everything we talked about a secret. They did, because they both had their interests. Dom in her music…
Panel 4, Middle, Bottom half
Image shows a teenaged Chloe as she looks through fashion magazines, there are also pamphlets which seem to be from modeling schools, she is seated at a table.
Narrator (JPT): …and Chloe with her interests in modeling and fashion.
Panel 5, Right hand side, Bottom half
Image shows a head and shoulders of the man, who by now we know is Jean Pierre Turgeon, he is looking down with a saddened expression.
Narrator (JPT): Even with the promise that they would never speak of it, something told me that there would be some event that would draw it all back into the light.
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page Two (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page Four (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
Panel 1, Banner across the top
Image is a newspaper headline, the date says October 14, 1970, the newspaper is the Montreal Gazette, in big bold letters under the date line the heading says “TRUDEAU: ‘JUST WATCH ME’”.
Narrator (JPT): The year was 1970, and this nation, this dominion of Canada was at odds with terrorists from the inside. Seeking to bring sovereignty to Quebec, they used violence of any means to spread their message. The Front de liberation du Quebec had orchestrated bombings and kidnappings, while Prime Minister Trudeau put the country under alert, as Parliament brought forward the War Measures Act.
Panel 2, Banner second row
Image is another newspaper, date is October 18, 1970, Montreal Gazette, the headline reads in bold, black letters “LAPORTE EXECUTED BY FLQ”.
Narrator (JPT): While this madness went on, there were still those of us in Quebec that wanted a unified country, that would do anything to fight for this country. So, I took a stand.
Panel 3, Banner third row
Image is a newspaper, more of the paper can be seen, there is a photo, blurry, of a man dressed in red and white with a maple leaf on his chest, he is handing over a criminal to the police, the dateline is October 19, 1970, Montreal Gazette, the headline reads in bold, black letters “HE CALLS HIMSELF CANADIEN”, underneath is a sub heading that reads “Masked avenger assists police during terrorist crisis”.
Narrator (JPT): I couldn’t just sit by while these terrorists tried to rip this country apart. Everything that I grew up believing in was being challenged by these people. To some I was a vigilante, to others, a hero. I just saw myself as someone trying to do the right thing.
Panel 4, Banner fourth row
Image is another newspaper, this time the Vancouver Sun, date line is July 14, 1976, the headline reads “Mannekin and Canadien help break up drug trafficking ring”, underneath is photo with Canadien, and a dark, hooded figure with a long cloak behind him, it is unknown if it is a man or a woman.
Narrator (JPT): I thought it would end after the crisis, but it became an adventure. I became a symbol, and for a time I lived with that. But there always would come a time when it would be time to put away childish things. But I never should have kept them hidden away. I should have destroyed them.
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page One (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page Three (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
Yay! I’ve put some of this into a Word document (okay, OpenOffice file), and I’m starting to script it out the best way that can be scripted for the origin story for Canadienne, my patriotic Canadian superhero. Here’s page one. I’ll continue posting pages as I get them down.
Panel 1, Left hand side, Top Row
Image of a picture, shows a family of four, mother, father, and two daughters, one is older than the other, the father wears a shirt and tie, the mother wearing sweater and slacks, one daughter is wearing a beret, has long hair, jeans and a tee shirt, the other wearing more fashionable clothing.
Narrator (Jean Pierre Turgeon): Family is a very important thing. And my family is incredibly important.
Panel 2, Middle, Top Row
Image of a photo, man and a woman in a marriage procession, both smiling, people throwing confetti in the background.
Narrator (Jean Pierre Turgeon): I have a wife who I love more and more each day, from the moment that we first met, to the day we began to see each other much more seriously, to our wedding day…
Panel 3, Right hand side, Top Row
Image is a photo of a man and a woman, the woman is holding a small baby, the woman is in hospital greens, laying in a bed, she appears happy, but exhausted, the man leans over, one arm around the woman, with his hand pulling back the bundle wrapping the baby, he is smiling.
Narrator (Jean Pierre Turgeon): …to the day that little Dominique came into our lives. Of course, she would not be the last.
Panel 4, Left hand side, Middle Row
Image is a photo, a little girl with pigtails, she is looking into a crib with the man and woman beside her, they are smiling, inside the crib is a tiny baby, the little girl is reaching into the crib, the baby is giggling and has a grip on the little girl’s finger.
Narrator (Jean Pierre Turgeon): There was also Chloe. Two beautiful daughters. Monique and I were so fortunate to have such a wonderful family. We spoiled them both so much. We did have help, mind you.
Panel 5, Middle, Middle Row
Image is a larger man, with similar features to the other man in the other photos, he is reaching down to give the little girl with pigtails a hug, she seems very excited, around them is the remnants of torn up wrapping paper, behind them is an electric guitar.
Narrator (Jean Pierre Turgeon): My brother, Daniel made sure that he dotted on Dom…
Panel 6, Right hand side, Middle Row
Image is a photo of the same large man seated, a little girl, about six years old, is sitting in his lap, she is Dom’s sister, her hair is in braids, the man appears to be telling her something, he has a very conversational look on his face as though he is telling a story to her, the little girl is listening intently.
Narrator (Jean Pierre Turgeon): …and just as much with Chloe.
Panel 7, Left hand side, Bottom Row
Image is of a family picnic, all five pictured, the larger man is at a barbecue, cooking burgers and hotdogs, the little girls are sitting at a picnic table, as the other man and woman are setting out plates and cutlery
Narrator (Jean Pierre Turgeon): My life was perfect. I had a career as a lawyer, Monique had her art gallery, I have a wonderful family. I could ask for nothing more.
Panel 8, Middle, Bottom Row
Image is the same as Panel 7, but faded.
Narrator (Jean Pierre Turgeon): I could even relax that secrets of the past would not affect my family.
Panel 9, Right hand side, Bottom Row
Image is a black square.
Narrator (Jean Pierre Turgeon): But secrets have a tendency to catch up to you.
- Flag on my Backpack: The Comic Script – Page Two (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
- Update to Flag on my Backpack (taholtorf.wordpress.com)
Columbus, Ohio – 7:54 am. -August 20, 2002
The office was small, and dark. Only one light hung from the ceiling in an attempt to fill the room with anything at all. But it only succeeded in making the long shadows look more and more menacing. For Johnathon Tiberius Walker, this only made his dark thoughts seem that much more so. But he sat, hunched over in his chair, tired arms propping himself up on the old, metal desk. His hands gingerly holding a picture that he would turn over in his fingers every so often. A gift from an old lover. The reason his thoughts became so heavy as of late.
His daughter, Danielle Walker. She was twelve years old now, but he’d only seen her twice. When she was first born, and again when she had turned five. And both times were fleeting and short, not enough for father and daughter to really connect. Perhaps the passing of years was what drove his thoughts. But he knew that he wanted this life as a mercenary to end. He wanted to live the rest of his years in a normal life. Just one last job. But he had to send a message to those he answered to. He had to let them know there would be those that would defy them.
As the metal door creaked open, he continued to stare at the photograph. He knew who it was, he needn’t hide this worn old photo from him. Malcolm Montgomery Watt merely stood across from the old gunslinger and waited. The news he had could take it’s time in the telling. If there was one thing the Aussie learned from this old Texan, it was patience. No need to hurry something if you didn’t need to.
Walker let out a deep breath and sat back in the old wooden chair. His eyes drifted up to meet Monty’s as he pocketed the photo. A wordless acknowledgment of what was coming. Walker took out a metal tin and flipped it open, taking out a cigarette and carefully lighting it. As he inhaled, he waited for Monty to speak. The Aussie knew when the time to pass information was, and the ritual of the cigarette was almost like a signal.
The younger of the two men sat heavily in a chair across from the old gun hand. He leaned back, kicking his feet up onto the desk. Had this been anything else, it would have appeared as a very relaxing conversation. But it was anything but that. “Orders ‘ave come in, mate,” Monty informed Walker. “The target is attendin’ Ohio State University. Second year student.”
“Makes him ’bout eighteen. Maybe twenty at the oldest,” Walker added. Monty noted the emphasis on the age. “So we’re sinkin’ so low as ta kidnap children, I take it.”
“Accordin’ ta the paperwork, the kid’s the son of a Senator with a lotta clout in Congress.” Monty let the information sink in as he took his feet off the desk and leaned forward, resting his frame on his elbows as he leaned on the desk. “They’d like this done quickly as possibly. An’, o’ course, as quietly as possible.”
“In a university,” Walker replied with a slight scoff. “Yeah, they’ll ‘ppreciate that.” The echoes of some of the worst school shootings in history in the United States still rung in the minds of the people. And it was even worse in this post-9-11 era. “Who’s on the crew?” Walker asked as he kept the memories of the news reels close in his mind. He had to remain focused, and these thoughts would help him keep that.
“Your hand picked,” Monty said with a smile. Hand picked meant Walker’s faithful. The soldiers that would stick by whatever play he needed to make. And the Red Hand couldn’t demand any changes, not with Walker’s record. “Crimson, Indigo, Grey. An’ me. All loyal, an’ all ‘ave been told what ta expect.”
Walker sighed as he took another drag of his cigarette. Slowly he rose to his feet, stretching to get the kinks out of his frame. He looked around the room for a long moment, then turned to his second in command. “The Masters o’ deception,” Walker slowly mused with a smirk. “Well t’day, we try an’ deceive the deceivers.” He watched as Monty rose to his feet, an encouraging smile forming on the Aussie’s lips. “Well boy, t’day has just b’come our first judgment day. Let’s hope that maybe the good Lord’s watchin’ down on us.”
Whitecap Dakota First Nation, Saskatchewan – 4:15 pm. – August 20, 2002
The horse came to an easy stop, guided by the skilled hands of the rider who sat on top of him. Maxwell Running Cloud was getting in some relaxation before the start of the new semester at the University of Saskatchewan, and he could find that easily here on the ranch that he called home. But in this world filled with technology, even the serenity of a peaceful ranch wasn’t enough to block out the rest of the world. Especially when Maxwell failed to leave his cell phone at home.
He dug through his duster as he calmed the horse so it wouldn’t spook from the sounds of the cellular. Maxwell flipped it open carefully so he wouldn’t drop it in the tall grass and he spoke in his usual calm and quiet manner, not something one would expect from the large Dakota man. Standing at six feet seven inches tall, and weighing in at 270 pounds, he was a sight indeed. Add to that his smooth demeanor and rugged good looks and he definitely had the attention of many on campus. “Hello,” he said into the cell’s receiver. “Doctor Filmore, good to hear from you. I thought you would be getting ready for your final term at Oxford.” He laughed aloud at some joke told by Filmore and calmed the horse as it let out a nervous whinny.
“Convention, you say,” he replied to an obvious explanation. “At Ohio State University. Well, I’d love to attend, even though it is short notice. I’ll contact the dean of the college and let him know. I built up some holiday time. Besides, an opportunity such as this, with a meeting of some of the most impressive minds on anthropology throughout the world… I’d be a fool to miss this.” He chuckled lightly as he listened to the doctor, then his voice grew slightly somber. “I’m sorry, Doctor, but my wife was … she passed away two years ago.” He held back his feelings as he remembered the night of the fire, holding his dying wife in his arms as he called out to his daughter. It had been two years, and he still didn’t have any evidence to finding her. “No, it’s alright, Doctor, you didn’t know. But yes, I will be more than happy to attend. Thank you very much for the information. Take care now.”
Maxwell clicked the end button on his cellphone and slipped it back into his duster, leaning back on the horse for a moment. The South Saskatchewan River Valley in late August was beautiful. The leaves were just beginning to turn, and from Maxwell’s vantage point he could see forever. God’s country. That’s what they called it. The Creator’s masterpiece. Perhaps he would need this, for a time. He hadn’t done anything except work on campus since his wife’s death.
Oh, there was his alter ego. But that really wasn’t an alter ego when the entire city of Saskatoon knew. The media had dubbed him Hawk’s Scream. His feathered wing harness along with the amplification unit he’d managed to piece together was a familiar sight over the city, as he often would assist police in apprehending criminals. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was something he could do to give back to his community. And at the same time, maybe he could find Raven.
“Well, Ironside,” he said to the horse. “Guess I’ll be gone for a few days. You gonna be alright without me?” The horse shook its head and let out a soft chuffle. “You’re a big suck, you know that?” Maxwell said with a chuckle. He sighed as he guided the horse back toward the stables, thinking of this opportunity as he rode calmly through the scrub brush. While the quiet and serenity of the ranch was to his liking, he had needs outside of this small piece of heaven. His horses and his cat Zachary were his only company, really. Aside from his students, he had no one.
And then the idea came to him He wasn’t the only one who shared this existence. His sister shared a sort of longing that he had himself begun to realize. He smiled as he thought about her, and his nephew.
“Ya know,” he stated to no one in particular as he guided the horse back toward the stables. “I wonder what Naomi is doing these days.”
Ottawa, Ontario – 4:20 pm. – August 20, 2002
Petey Running Cloud Simonson sat on the floor of the two bedroom apartment and watched TV. For this eight year old, he was going to grip onto his summer holidays for all he could. But there was some excitement in his eyes at the concept of school. Especially a new school. But this was so much more of a change than his school in Moose Jaw, and Ottawa was so much bigger. At least they had a triple A baseball team with the Ottawa Lynx. Maybe, his mom would drive him to Toronto to catch a Blue Jays game sometime.
If she could get past her period of mourning.
Naomi had just begun to let it sink in that her husband was gone. Killed in action as the Canadian Armed Forces assisted the United States Military in the search for Osama Bin Laden during the months that followed September 11th, she returned to Canada not to a hero’s welcome, but to say good bye to the love of her life. It was then that Canadian Secret Intelligence Service Paranormal Division contacted her. They had been watching her, and she was invited to join their ranks.
Like a good soldier, she did, though, her new posting was not without it’s oddities. Her superiors were, to say the least, a rather odd group. As she would learn, Naomi was the first human brought into the ranks of CSIS Paranormal Division. Often she would question herself, and question why she was brought into this organization. Just being there meant everything she grew up knowing, was so very wrong. But at the same time, it confirmed so much.
Those thoughts were not filling her mind on this day as the phone rang.
She looked up from her comfy chair, mildly annoyed at the interruption, and glanced toward the phone’s call display. At least it was her brother, Maxwell. He could at least make her smile when things looked at their worst. Only he and Petey were the two things keeping her anchored. “Hello,” she spoke with a soft voice as she picked up the phone.
“How’s my favourite sister these days?” Maxwell said with a smile in his voice. He had news, and from the sound of it, good news. That was something she needed to hear. Although, even hearing the sound of her brother’s voice was enough to lift her spirits.
“I’m your only sister, Maxie,” Naomi chuckled in reply. She set her book down on a side table next to her reading lamp, after bending over the page to mark her place. “You sound like your in a good mood.”
“As good as I can be for someone who was just invited to attend one of North America’s most prestigious anthropological conventions,” he explained. The joy in his voice could not be contained. He was more than likely as giddy as a school boy on Christmas Eve. “The university is going to give me a little time, seeing how I got most of my work done in June and July.”
“Nothing like prep time to give you some stress free time,” Naomi replied as she relaxed in her recliner. It was good to have a normal conversation for once. One that didn’t involve her work. “Sounds like you’ve got a chance in a life time.”
“Why don’t you come along,” he suggested. Naomi merely perked an eyebrow at the suggestion. The sudden pause in the conversation was noted by Maxwell, which only allowed him to continue. “The Yankees are playing a series in Cleveland, we can take Petey to see the game. I know a couple of professors at Ohio State that can get me tickets. Plus, we can take him to the zoo.” Naomi didn’t reply right away, as she considered the offer. But again, there was a pause which Maxwell quickly filled. “I can meet you in Windsor tomorrow and we can drive down to Columbus.”
“Drive!” Naomi finally said incredulously. “Okay, but you’re driving from Windsor, buddy. I have to fight traffic through Toronto.” She sighed and shook her head, realizing that without any further discussion or thought, she had just accepted his invitation. Maxwell had a knack for doing that, and sometimes it drove Naomi nuts. “Means we’re gonna have to get going now.”
“You get ready,” Maxwell stated. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He rang off, leaving Naomi to just shake her head. At least her brother was still such a free spirit, and in some ways, it was almost contagious. As she placed the phone back on it’s cradle she looked to her son as he watched television. This might be a good trip for him. “Hey squirt,” she said as she leaned forward in the chair. Petey looked back, rolling his eyes as he gave her the mom! look. “Yankees are playing Cleveland this weekend. Your uncle can snag tickets.” Suddenly, her son’s eyes widened as the television was long forgotten. He rose to his feet, excitement in his eyes. “One catch,” she said as she held up her index finger, her son’s attention was fully hanging onto her words. “We leave in half an hour. Which means we need to get ourselves ready.”
She didn’t have to say anything else as Petey raced into his room, scrambling to wash and pack. Naomi just shook her head and laughed. Given the proper motivation, her son could simply amaze her sometimes. She slowly rose to her feet and went to her bedroom, and methodically began packing. She smiled as she did so. It would be a nice little holiday.
Even if she had to contact her director to let them know of her whereabouts. And, of course, see if they could let the proper authorities know she would be on American soil. Vacation or not, it was always best to let the American spooks know, that a Canadian spook would be in their midst.
Columbus, Ohio – 5:09 pm. – August 20, 2002
Malcolm Montgomery Watt kept a close watch as the supplies were loaded onto a black, unmarked truck. While most other soldiers within the organization called the Red Hand depended on computerized inventory marking, Monty trusted something his commanding officer always used. A simple clip board. If central command didn’t like it, they could talk to Walker. Besides, he’d grown used to it. It was much like an old, familiar friend.
The Aussie looked up as he heard the slow, methodical steps of the gunslinger. He knew how Walker moved. A smile crossed his face as he handed the clip board to his commanding officer. “Ev’rythin’s in order, mate. Even Indigo’s request made it.”
Walker looked over the list and chuckled. Monty had everything covered well enough, as he always did. One thing Walker could always admire about the Aussie, his attention to detail and near precise organizational skills. “We got the itinerary o’ the convention that’s goin’ on this weekend?”
“All accounted for, mate,” Monty replied with a smile. He turned as more footsteps sounded. Crimson Luna, the black beauty from New Orleans, her ability to trash talk had become legendary in the Red Hand. Indigo Beta, covert ops and intelligence picked up four years before after a run in with the Italian Mafia, she was a quiet one, and that was where she was most dangerous. Grey 6-2-6, weapons specialist and covert ops. The small framed man from China was equally effective with small arms as he was with his hands. “An’ ‘ere’s the rest o’ the crew.”
Walker moved to face each of them, studying their faces carefully. Each appeared confident, especially Grey. Walker didn’t know another man who could remain as calm in the midst of a storm as Grey could. “Y’all’ve received the orders?” he asked them in his calm and quiet drawl. They merely nodded in reply, indicating that they had indeed received the information. “There’s gonna be a slight change o’ plans. This is it fer me. I ain’t goin’ any further. I ain’t getting’ any younger. An’ I made a shit ton o’ mistakes in my life. Some say ya can’t ever go back, but I b’lieve that my life ain’t so down the drain that I can’t find some sorta redemption b’fore my final reward.” He reached into his pocket and produced the photo one more time, letting go of a heavy sigh before continuing. “We all have somethin’ more important ta think ’bout than the things we do.”
“Hell, Boss,” Crimson piped up, her familiar smile seeming to brighten the dower mood. “Count on us. We got yo back. Ain’t nuthin’ ta worry ’bout man.” Walker chuckled a bit as Crimson spoke her words.
“Ya always were a pistol, Chelsea,” Walker said with a smile and looked to Indigo and Grey. He could see it in their eyes, they were ready to back his play. “This here’s the most dangerous thing we’ve ever done. Not b’cause o’ the odds, ‘r b’cause we’re goin’ in heavy. But b’cause it’s ta defy them that wanna set the course o’ the world. Show ‘em that everyone deserves their own freedom.” He pocketed the picture and held out his hand. One by one, his agents placed their hand on his. Without hesitation. There was something in this world more important than trying to be the top dog. More important than setting the course of politics.
Honour. Family. Integrity. Trust.
And Walker knew, right then and there, a new chapter of his life had just begun. He had people he could count on, without having to worry if they were going to stab him in the back.
Washington D.C., 9:43 am., July 15th, 1993
These feelings went through Johnathon Tiberius Walker as he stood at ease in the hallway of the small office. He waited for the inevitable as he stood, hands clasped behind him, feet shoulder width apart. His head was held high as though he did not want to disrespect the uniform he wore. Only a few short months before, he had completed a mission in Somalia with his unit. It was a simple mission, that had gone horribly wrong. His commanding officers wanted answers.
As he stood in the hallway, he began to realize that his commanding officers merely wanted a scapegoat.
He snapped to attention and saluted as a woman in a smart looking naval uniform entered the small hallway. They may have been ready to strip him of his rank, but he would still show the respect of the organization he had served so long in. She returned the salute, and spoke in a soft voice.
“At ease, Colonel Walker,” she stated as Walker returned to his previous position. She moved to stand next to him, allowing the subtle perfume to waft over him. Odd, officers weren’t allowed to wear such things. He took a deep breath as he turned to look her over, and then recognition settled in.
“Been a while, ma’am,” he said quietly. “Ain’t seen you since the Persian Gulf.”
“Yes,” she replied with a nod. “It has been a while. And there have been some things which I have not been completely honest about.” She lowered her head, looking to the floor as she spoke. “Our night in Baghdad, I thought that was all it was. Just a night. But…” She paused for a long moment as Walker waited for her to continue. “At least it gave me my daughter.”
Walker needed to do everything to keep his composure as she spoke her words. Daughter. That meant he was the father. His earlier feelings seemed to have amplified themselves, knowing that he had helped bring a child into this world, but had not been able to help show the world to that child.
“She is young, only three,” the woman remarked as she placed her hands in front of her uniform. She held a simple purple rose, along with a picture, which she held out to Walker. “I want you to meet her,” she simply stated as he took the picture in one hand, studying it with soft eyes as he gently held onto the rose with his other hand. “I think you would have made a wonderful father.”
Silence filled the room as the woman turned without another word. She didn’t have to. These small actions spoke volumes to Walker. But now, he had to take the next few steps.
Only time would tell where the road would lead him.
The five of them lounged on the couch in the Turgeon rec-room as the television just added to some background noise. None of them realized it was on a news program. Curled up in the big easy chair of the room was Chloe, listening to the conversation. Mostly whenever Yves and Able spoke up. She had a crush on Yves since she was 13, and now with Able frequenting their home, he was just as nice to look at.
They discussed song lyrics and musical notations as every now and then, either Dom would strum a series of chords on her guitar, or Michelle would set a beat, and even Able would produce something on a recorder he had on hand. The only time they stopped their creative session was when Monika came into the rec-room with a fresh supply of beverages. Even Jean Pierre came down to see how they all were doing, and for a moment, the five took a break from their writing as they all shared in a few laughs.
But their attention turned toward the television as a news report came on.
“Vancouver City Police, along with RCMP, continue the search today for a suspected serial killer known only by the name Trinity,” the news anchor announced in his most deadpan voice. “With more in this report, here’s Shirley Melville.”
The scene switched to a warehouse along the docks in Vancouver, as police cars surrounded the place. It was obvious this was after the discovery of one of the most recent victims. “Police say they have no further leads in this case, but have disclosed that they believe this latest rash of murders does have a connection with another on going investigation. Lieutenant Christa Rayne with the RCMP Tactical Division says she believes strongly that Trinity is being pursued by the Mannekin.”
The image of a professional looking woman with dark red hair cut into a short bob filled the screen. “In each of the six murders witnesses have informed police that two individuals were seen fighting. We have enough witness evidence that points to one of the combatants being Trinity, while the other is Mannekin. In three of the cases it was observed that two other individuals gave aid to one of the combatants, which we can safely assume would be Mannekin’s associates known as Black Bowman and Moquette.”
“In each of the six cases thus far,” Shirley Meliville continued as the scene switched to the reporter speaking into a microphone in front of an investigation scene. “Police have admitted there is no connection between the victims. The public has already made a call to have police move faster in catching the suspect, although no evidence as to his real identity has been forthcoming. Reporting from Richmond, British Columbia, I’m Shirley Melville, CBC News.”
No one spoke a word for a while after the report finished, as they let the words from the reporter sink in. Yves and Michelle both looked to Dom, knowing full well that figures like the Mannekin made her own work in the community difficult as Canadiens. Yves openly sighed as he sat back on the couch. “I’m just glad things like dat do not happen here.”
“Oh, they do, Yves,” Jean Pierre spoke up in a quiet and calm voice. “Not now, but they have in the past. I’m just glad dat monsters like dis Trinity and Mannekin are far, far away from here.”
Eleanor Wollcott delicately pushed her glasses up on her nose as she read the text on her cellphone, waiting for the lift to come to a stop. She had to interrupt her usual duties as personal secretary for Derrik Stewart, the CEO of the multinational bio-genetic conglomerate known as Stewart Industries. Worry grew on her face which usually held very stoic features. Not company business, to be certain. The day to day activities of Derrik Stewart and the business of Stewart Industries went according to clockwork. It was Derrik Stewart’s more nocturnal habits that usually worried her. Those she could read between the lines of code that were in the message.
As the doors to the lift opened, she was greeted by two others who were familiar with this routine. Eleanor could read the worry in both of their faces as she began to walk with them. Lewis Morgan, chief of security for Stewart Industries’ Vancouver operations. A former linebacker with the Saskatchewan Roughriders, this New Orleans native was the first to discover Derrik’s secret obsession. Darla Drobsky, Derrik’s personal body guard, not that he really needed one. What the public didn’t know about Darla’s past was kept a very close secret. Former assassin with a secret organization called the Sisterhood. Female assassins, hired by the highest bidder, and very, very good at their jobs. For Darla to turn her back on them would have meant death to many, but under the protective umbrella of Stewart Industries, she was afforded safety.
Like Eleanor, Lewis and Darla both knew of Derrik’s other interests, but unlike Elanor, they had a personal stake in the activities as they would often join Derrik. A call from Derrik of such importance usually meant they would have to once again move to the offensive against some threat. Elanor had her suspicions as to just whom that would be.
The three quietly entered the office of Derrik Stewart, which overlooked the Vancouver harbour, catching a glimpse of the mountains. Derrik stood gazing out the windows, a cup of coffee in one hand, as Lewis closed and locked the door. “I believe it is safe to say, Mr. Stewart that we all received your text,” Elanor announced in her crisp British accent as she removed her glasses. She was an attractive woman, who lost some of the schoolmarm charm when she removed her spectacles.
“Do we have any operations that need to be inspected in the area?” Derrik announced without awaiting small talk.
“There are two,” Elanor replied as she flipped open a notebook and skimmed the contents. “A printing company that publishes agricultural pamphlets and a manufacturing company that deals with government defence contracts.”
“Good,” Derrik said as he finally turned to face them, setting his coffee cup down on the large oak desk. “Set up an appointment to see each of them over the course of the next week.” He then looked to Darla and Lewis. “Make sure that our equipment is loaded and ready to go. I have received word from a trusted contact that Trinity has moved his point of interest from Vancouver.” He slid his hands into his pockets as he spoke, and though he sounded like the staunch businessman he always was seen as in the public light, all three knew that something deeper and darker affected him. Like a shadow creeping across his soul. “Get some sleep. We’ll be taking the private jet in the morning, and should land at two o’clock local time in Montreal.”
Flag on my Backpack: Shadows Fall
L’homme brouillés à travers le parc, en cours d’exécution dans les arbres, les buissons et en renversant des piétons innocents. Toujours, à seulement quelques pas derrière, la jeune femme en uniforme rouge et blanc; Canadiens. Son désespoir pour échapper a été coûteuse, car il a gardé son accent sur son poursuivant et non pas ce qui était en face de lui. Il n’a pas entendu la police jusqu’à ce qu’il ait presque couru en eux. Il s’arrêta, la recherche d’une évasion, une décision coûteuse, au mieux. Une partie de lui devrait l’aborder à venir.
Dom a précipité en claquant son épaule dans le bas du dos comme il déplacé de gauche à droite, en regardant autour désespérément. Soudain, sa concentration se détourna de s’échapper de se battre. Dom avait pris au piège comme un animal, et comme n’importe quel animal acculé, lorsque peur et désespérés, ils s’adressent généralement à celui qui les piège. Contrairement à un animal, cet homme a dû être capturé. Il avait déjà attaqué plusieurs femmes sur le campus de McGill, cette dernière tentative a montré son désespoir.
Canadiens ne se souciait pas s’il y avait un certain déséquilibre mental chez l’homme, ne se souciait pas s’il avait besoin de conseils, elle savait seulement qu’il devait être arrêté. Elle ferait tout ce qui était en son pouvoir pour le retenir afin qu’il n’ait pas de mal à personne chaque fois. D’ailleurs, elle avait de sauvegarde. La police a fait irruption à travers les buissons, autour de l’homme comme Dom le tenait ferme sur le sol. Il a continué à lutter, mais lentement arrêté que les officiers fermé un cercle autour de lui.
“Alright, Canadiens,” l’un des officiers a annoncé. “Nous le tenons.”
Dom laisser aller, ne pas lui donner une balle dans la tête qu’elle a si désespérément voulu. Elle vient de les laisser l’emmener, même si une rage lente construite à l’intérieur d’elle. Elle ne savait pas les détails de chaque attaque de cet homme peut avoir commis, tout ce qu’elle savait, elle a été empêché une jeune fille de devenir une statistique négative. Elle regarda autour du parc pour un moment que la police l’homme transporté loin. Quelques officiers restés sur place pour calmer et rassurer tout le monde, y compris Fréchette et Kowalsky. Avis Dom mesure, avec la jeune fille suspendue juste derrière lui. Deux d’entre eux auraient de faire une déclaration à un moment donné.
Elle se dirigea vers eux, en notant les regarder dans les yeux de Able. Il y avait un mélange de crainte et de respect, avec une nuance de colère qui était assis à l’arrière quelque part. Elle ne pouvait supposer qu’il était destiné à l’homme qui avait tenté sans succès de faire du mal à son ami. La jeune fille aux cheveux roses était loin derrière Able, furtivement de temps en temps pour regarder les faits et gestes.
“Vous êtes tous deux vont devoir faire une déclaration, vous le savez,” Dom a annoncé qu’elle s’approchait d’eux. La jeune fille aux cheveux roses se recula un peu. “Tout va bein. Voir cet officier il ya,” dit-elle en lui montrant une femme officier, Jocette Frechette. La jeune fille hocha lentement la tête. “C’est Frechette agent. Vous devriez aller lui parler, et elle et son partenaire peut vous rentrez chez vous. Okay?”
La jeune fille hésita un peu, puis se mit à marcher vers Frechette. Elle s’arrêta un moment, puis se retourna pour les Canadiens. “Mon nom est Claire.” Dom hocha la tête comme elle a forcé un petit sourire. La ruée vers l’adoption rapide de la baisse et la colère qui s’était accumulée en elle était toujours là, donc c’était un peu d’effort pour essayer de transmettre un visage amical. Claire essaya de sourire en retour, avant qu’elle ne marcha lentement vers Frechette.
“Vous allez avoir à parler à la police ainsi, vous savez,” dit Dom Able en regardant Claire. Elle se tourna vers le jeune homme, et a pris note des petits sourire sur son visage. “Qu’est-ce? Pourquoi souriez-vous pour?”
“Tu m’as appelé par mon nom, Luv,” Able dit-il en a un peu un gros peu et parlait à voix basse. Dom soupira et ferma les yeux quand elle comprit ce qui allait arriver. Elle se sentait comme un idiot. “Plus je vous ai vu à quelques pâtés de retour, qui s’occupent de ces deux comme ils descendirent dans la rue. Vous devez avoir éludé hors de la vue parce que je ne t’ai jamais vu par la suite. Eh bien, ne t’ai jamais vu jusqu’à ce que quelqu’un vous l’avez souligné sur un toit.”
Dom se détendit un peu, mais a estimé qu’elle avait besoin d’élever ses défenses. Elle ne veut pas être négligée. La connaissance de sa double vie pourrait être un fardeau pour Able. Mais d’autre part, elle avait mentionné qu’il lui potes du groupe, et capable allait être une partie de cette vie si il méritait de connaître. “J’allais dire quelque chose, vous savez. À t’night pratique. Mais allait travailler à la hauteur. Yves, Jacqueline et Michelle savons tous.”
“Ils savent? Tu veux dire, ils sont cool avec ça?” Able demandé avec une certaine curiosité. Dom seulement hoché la tête en réponse. “Quelqu’un d’autre?”
“Frechette,” dit-elle, comme elle a souligné l’officier de parler à Claire. “Et Kowalsky. Mes parents. Et ma sœur, Chloé.”
“Attendez! Vous avez une sœur?”
“Oui, elle rentre à la maison de Paris …” Dom s’arrêta brusquement, comme elle a commencé à se rappeler tous les événements de la journée qu’elle avait prévu. Dont l’un était d’obtenir un cadeau pour sa sœur, un cadeau bienvenue à la maison. “Merde! J’ai presque oublié! Je dois prendre ce don, j’ai besoin d’obtenir mes livres de la librairie du campus, ont besoin pour obtenir mon sac à dos!”
“Easy, Dom. Easy,” Able répondu avec un petit rire rassurant. “Je vais vous donner mon patron, Etienne un appel et demander l’après-midi au large. J’ai été tirant des heures supplémentaires au travail de sorte qu’il ne devrait pas l’esprit. De plus, avec cette aventure, je vais avoir besoin de temps pour se calmer.”
“Calmez-vous?” Dom a dit que elle a étudié le jeune homme. “Vous avez l’air plus calme moi donc. Et c’est votre ami qui a été attaqué.”
“J’ai incroyable force intérieure,” at-il répondu avec un sourire, puis offrit son bras à Dom. “Venez fille, ton char attend. Eh bien, peut-être pas char. C’est un rouillé ’76 Toyota Celica.”
Dom rire légèrement, comme elle lui prit le bras. “Va avoir besoin de travailler sur ce point, vous savez.”
Chloé était assis dans le salon de la maison de sa famille et vu le monde passer. Déjà, elle avait disparu de Paris. Montréal était si fade en comparaison. Elle a dû se l’avouer, elle a fait une erreur, mais peut-être, juste peut-être, si elle a travaillé assez dur ici, à Montréal, elle pourrait obtenir une reconnaissance de revenir. Il peut arriver. Au moins, elle aimait passer l’après-midi avec ses parents. Alors que Jean-Pierre et Monika a essayé d’inculquer une éthique de travail dans les deux de leurs filles, il ya eu des moments où Jean-Pierre serait de les gâter. Ils étaient à lui, après tout, et il se sentait qu’ils méritaient de vivre une vie pleine de remplissage.
Chloé pouvait sentir l’odeur provenant de la cuisine. Sa mère la cuisine, la seule chose lui manquait alors qu’elle était à Paris. Elle n’avait jamais parlé à ses parents qu’elle a manqué que par-dessus tout. Peut-être qu’elle aurait pour commencer. Elle allait devoir s’habituer à des choses à Montréal. La vie serait différente.
La première différence, elle a été remarqué le véhicule qui montait en face de leur maison. Un seau de rouille réel, mais conservait encore les lignes de sa nature la fois sportive. Un garçon roux sont sortis du siège du conducteur, ce qui portait Chloé serait en droit d’attendre d’un des amis de Dom. Sauf le kilt est un peu un choc. Toutefois, ses soupçons furent bientôt confirmées comme Dom sont sortis du côté passager. Cela ne fait rien pour mettre un terme à sa confusion, cependant. Chloé avait connu Dom toute sa vie. Dix-sept ans. Elle avait toujours connu une chose Dom.
Chloé se leva du canapé et se promenait devant la porte, sortir sur le perron et d’attendre que Dom pour finir de parler à son amie. Elle écoutait la conversation des deux petits avaient, bits de capture et des morceaux de lui.
“Show ce soir, pour la pratique?” Dom a dit d’une voix douce.
“Ne serait-il manquer pour rien au monde, Luv,” répondit le jeune homme. Peu de temps après, le jeune homme retourna à sa voiture et partit. Pas tranquillement soit, Chloé supposer que le seau de rouille sans doute besoin d’un nouveau silencieux.
Dom resta un instant en voyant la voiture lecteur hors tension, puis se tourna vers sa maison, contenu dans ses pensées.
“Je suis confus,” Chloé a finalement annoncé, Dom saisissante avec son annonce soudaine. “J’ai toujours eu l’impression que vous avez aimé les filles.” Chloe sourit gaiement, comme elle regardait Dom et attendait une réponse.
Dom retint son souffle, comme elle regardait Chloé pour un moment. “Je ne savais pas que tu étais là, sœur,” at-elle souffla et déplacé son sac à dos. “Quant à ce que vous demandez, Michelle et moi dupe un peu, mais nous avons réalisé que nous venons amis. Et c’est ainsi que nous l’aimons. D’ailleurs, ce que les entreprises de quiconque est-il que je date?”
“Cela a du sens venant de vous,” répondit Chloé avec son accent parisien forcé.
Dom déplacé sur les marches et regarda à Chloé, son expression change de choc pour une apparence beaucoup plus rassurant. “Alors, comment était le vol de retour?”
“C’était bien,” répondit Chloé une petite voix en regardant le sol. “Ne dites pas à papa ou maman, mais j’ai pleuré quand je suis les nouvelles. J’ai en quelque sorte vissé vers le haut.”
Dom hocha la tête avec un sourire, en notant que Chloé a commencé à transférer son accent retour à la normale. “J’ai quelque chose pour vous. Figure vous allez avoir besoin de cela, alors je l’ai ramassé pour vous.” Dom atteint dans son sac à dos et en tira une boîte de connaître blanc avec un logo Apple gris clair à ce sujet. “Je t’ai un iPhone. Il a un peu d’applications que j’ai téléchargé, plus je mets de la musique sur elle. Ajout de mon téléphone portable, et papa à votre carnet d’adresses.” Elle a remis la boîte de Chloé, qui a pris soin avec un silence stupéfait.
Chloé s’est tourné vers la boîte, puis à sa sœur. “Merci, Dom.” Elle a souri et a donné une accolade Dom.
“Hé, on peut se battre et tout ça,” Dom a répondu comme elle est retournée aux hug. “Mais à la fin, je vais regarder pour ma soeur.” Elle tapota Chloe sur le dos et tiré vers l’arrière un peu, en ajoutant avec un sourire. “Nous ferions mieux de pénétrer à l’intérieur avant que certains de nos voisins de nous voir tous les cours civiles.”
The man scrambled through the park, running into trees, bushes and knocking over unsuspecting pedestrians. Always, only a few steps behind, the young woman in the red and white uniform; Canadiens. His desperation for escape was a costly one, as he kept his focus on his pursuer and not what was in front of him. He didn’t hear the police until he’d almost run into them. He stopped, searching for an escape, a costly decision at best. Part of him expected the upcoming tackle.
Dom rushed him, slamming her shoulder into the small of his back as he shifted from side to side, looking around desperately. Suddenly his concentration turned from escape to fight. Dom had trapped him like an animal, and like any animal cornered, when scared and desperate they usually turn on the one who trapped them. Unlike an animal, this man had to be captured. He’d already attacked several women on the McGill campus, this latest attempt showed his desperation.
Canadiens didn’t care if there was some mental imbalance in the man, didn’t care if he needed counselling, she only knew that he had to be stopped. She would do whatever was in her power to hold him fast so he wouldn’t hurt anyone every again. Besides, she had backup. The police broke through the bushes, surrounding the man as Dom held him firm to the ground. He continued to struggle, but slowly stopped as the officers closed a circle around him.
“Alright, Canadiens,” one of the officers announced. “We’ve got him.”
Dom let go, didn’t give him one shot to the head that she so desperately wanted to. She just let them take him away, even though a slow rage built up inside of her. She didn’t know the details of each attack this man may have committed, all she knew was she prevented a girl from becoming a negative statistic. She looked around the park for a moment as police hauled the man away. A few officers stayed behind to calm and reassure everyone, including Frechette and Kowalsky. Dom notice Able, with the young girl hanging right behind him. Both of them would have to give a statement at some point.
She walked over to them, noting the look in Able’s eyes. There was a mix of awe and respect, with a tinge of anger that sat in the back somewhere. She could only assume that it was meant for the man who had unsuccessfully tried to hurt his friend. The girl with the pink hair stood close behind Able, peeking out from time to time to watch the goings on.
“You two are gonna ‘ave to give a statement, you know,” Dom announced as she approached them. The girl in the pink hair shrank back a bit. “It’s okay. See dat officer dere?” she said as she pointed to a female officer, Jocette Frechette. The girl nodded slowly. “Dat is Officer Frechette. You should go talk to her, an’ she an’ her partner can get you home. Okay?”
The girl hesitated a bit, then began to walk toward Frechette. She stopped a moment, then looked back to Canadiens. “My name’s Claire.” Dom nodded as she forced a small smile. The rush from the fast take down and the anger that had built up in her was still there, so it was a bit of an effort to try to convey a friendly face. Claire tried to smile in return before she slowly walked over to Frechette.
“You gonna ‘ave to talk to de police as well, you know,” Dom said to Able as she watched Claire. She turned to look to the young man, and took note of the small smirk on his face. “What? What you smilin’ for?”
“Ye called me by me name, luv,” Able said as he inched a bit close and spoke in a low voice. Dom sighed and closed her eyes as she realized what was coming. She felt like an idiot. “Plus I saw ye a few blocks back, lookin’ after these two as they went down the street. Ye musta ducked outta sight ’cause I never saw ye again after that. Well, never saw ye ’til someone pointed ye out on a rooftop.”
Dom relaxed a little bit, but felt that she needed to bring up her defences. She didn’t mean to be so sloppy. The knowledge of her dual life could be a burden to Able. But on the other hand, she’d mentioned it to her band mates, and Able was going to be a part of that life so he deserved to know. “I was gonna say somet’ing, you know. At practise t’night. But was gonna work up to it. Yves, Jacqueline an’ Michelle all know.”
“They know? Ye mean, they’re cool with it?” Able asked with some curiosity. Dom only nodded in reply. “Anybody else?”
“Frechette,” she said as she pointed out the officer talking to Claire. “An’ Kowalsky. My parents. An’ my sister, Chloe.”
“Wait! Ye’ve got a sister?”
“Oui, she’s comin’ ‘ome from Paris…” Dom stopped abruptly as she began to remember all the day’s events that she had planned. One of which was to get a gift for her sister, a welcome home present. “Merde! I almost forgot! I gotta pick up dat gift, I need to get my books from de campus book store, need to get my backpack!”
“Easy, Dom. Easy,” Able replied with a reassuring chuckle. “I’ll give me boss, Etienne a call an’ ask fer the afternoon off. I’ve been pullin’ some overtime at work so he should mind. Plus, with this adventure, I’ll need time to calm down.”
“Calm down?” Dom said as she studied the young man. “You look more calm den me. An’ it were yer friend who were attacked.”
“I have incredible inner fortitude,” he responded with a bright smile and then offered his arm to Dom. “Come lass, yer chariot awaits. Well, maybe not chariot. It’s a rusted out ’76 Toyota Celica.”
Dom chuckled lightly as she took his arm. “Gonna ‘ave to work on dat, you know.”
Chloe sat in the living room of her family’s home and watched the world go by. Already she was missing Paris. Montreal was so bland in comparison. She had to admit to herself, she did make a mistake, but maybe, just maybe, if she worked hard enough here in Montreal she could get recognition to go back. It might happen. At least she enjoyed spending the afternoon with her parents. While Jean Pierre and Monika did try to instill a hard work ethic in both their daughters, there were times that Jean Pierre would spoil them. They were his, after all, and he felt they deserved to live a full-filling life.
Chloe could smell the aroma coming from the kitchen. Her mother’s cooking, the one thing she missed while she was in Paris. She’d never mentioned to her parents that she missed that above all else. Maybe she’d have to start. She was going to have to get used to things in Montreal. Life would be different here.
The first difference she noticed was the vehicle that drove up in front of their home. A real rust bucket, but still retained lines of its once sporty nature. A red headed boy climbed out of the driver’s seat, wearing what Chloe would come to expect of one of Dom’s friends. Except the kilt was a bit of a shock. However, her suspicions were soon confirmed as Dom climbed out of the passenger side. This did not do anything to halt her confusion, however. Chloe had known Dom for her entire life. Seventeen years. She’d always known one thing about Dom.
Chloe got up from the couch and walked around to the front door, stepping out onto the porch and waiting for Dom to finish talking to her friend. She listened to the small conversation the two had, catching bits and pieces of it.
“Show up for the practise t’night?” Dom said in a soft voice.
“Wouldn’t miss it fer the world, luv,” the young man replied. Soon after, the young man went back to his car and drove off. Not quietly either, Chloe assumed that the rust bucket probably needed a new muffler.
Dom stood for a moment as she watched the car drive off, then turned to her home, content in her thoughts.
“So I am confused,” Chloe finally announced, startling Dom with her sudden announcement. “I always was under zhe impression zhat you liked girls.” Chloe smiled cheerily as she watched Dom and waited for an answer.
Dom caught her breath as she stared at Chloe for a moment. “Didn’t know you were dere, sis,” she huffed and shifted her backpack. “As for what you ask, Michelle an’ me fooled around a bit, but we realize dat we just friends. An’ dat’s de way we like it. Beside, what business of anyone’s is it who I date?”
“Zhat makes sense coming from you,” Chloe replied with her forced Parisian accent.
Dom moved onto the steps and looked to Chloe, her expression changing from shock to a much more comforting appearance. “So, how was de flight back?”
“It was alright,” Chloe replied in a small voice as she looked to the ground. “Don’ tell papa or mama, but I cried when I got the news. I kinda screwed up.”
Dom nodded with a smile, noting that Chloe had started to shift her accent back to normal. “I got somet’ing for you. Figure you gonna need dis, so I picked it up for you.” Dom reached into her backpack and pulled out a familiar white box with a light grey Apple logo on it. “I got you an iPhone. It’s got a few apps I downloaded, plus I put some music on it. Added my cellphone, an’ papa’s to your address book.” She handed Chloe the box, who took it carefully with a stunned silence.
Chloe looked to the box, then up to her sister. “T’ank you, Dom.” She smiled and gave Dom a hug.
“Hey, we may fight an’ stuff,” Dom replied as she returned the hug. “But in the end, I’m gonna look out for my sister.” She patted Chloe on the back and pulled back just a bit, adding with a grin. “We better get inside b’fore some o’ our neighbours see us bein’ all civil.”
L’homme libre à Paris
Jean Pierre regarda sa montre alors qu’il se tenait dans le terminal principal de l’aéroport Pierre Elliot Trudeau International. Il était en avance pour l’arrivée de Paris, en France, mais il voulait s’assurer qu’il avait beaucoup de temps, et il ne veut pas que sa fille cadette de s’inquiéter. Heureusement, son bureau lui a donné le temps de ramasser Chloé, que Monika avait un engagement galerie qu’elle ne pouvait pas sortir. Il avait été huit mois que Chloé rentre en France pour ses études secondaires et des classes pour une carrière espoir de modélisation. Mais, cette année il y avait une petite quantité de controverse. Chloé a été demandé de ne pas rentrer à cause d’un incident. Aucune preuve n’a été établie, mais il y avait assez de pointer du doigt en direction de Chloé que les administrateurs de l’école a jugé nécessaire de demander à Jean-Pierre et Monika ne pas envoyer de Chloé de retour à Paris.
Tout cela était dû à un secret bien gardé, encore plus que les activités bien gardé de Dominique en tant que Canadiens. Chloé avait un don, mais un don que, parfois, elle a eu des ennuis. Elle pourrait canal naturel schémas électriques par elle-même. Il y avait plusieurs jours Jean-Pierre pouvait se rappeler où Dominique et Chloé se lancer dans une guerre de choc. Chloé se frotter légèrement ses pieds sur le sol et touche l’épaule de sa sœur, qui serait un bon courant électrique à travers Dominique. Qui aurait bien sûr, des mesures de rétorsion. Une telle action a été suspectée dans la controverse à Paris, bien que personne ne pouvait le prouver. Jean Pierre savait, cependant, et il savait aussi que Chloé n’a pas délibérément souhaite de mal à personne. Il a été son aspect de plaisir.
Sa pensée revint à la présenter comme il a repéré un bien habillé, jeune femme marchant dans le terminal. Chloé est à l’opposé complet de Dominique. Lorsque Dominique a été heureux avec ses jeans déchirés et un tee-shirt propre, Chloé nécessaire bien pressé, vêtements de marque. Dominique avait un nid de rat pour les cheveux à la fois, tandis que Chloé ne voulait pas descendre au petit déjeuner sans se brosser les siens.
Jean Pierre sourit comme Chloé l’ai vu. Elle agitait comme il se dirigea vers elle, lui donner un gros câlin. “Ah ça fait si longtemps, Chloé,” dit-il avec un sourire.
“Oui, papa,” Chloé a répondu avec un sourire à son retour l’étreinte.
“Le vol a été bien?” Demanda-t-il la conduira à travers le terminal.
“C’était bien. J’ai eu un siège côté fenêtre, ainsi je pourrais voir quand nous étions à venir à Montréal,” dit-elle avec un accent un peu forcé.
Jean Pierre secoua la tête et sourit. Chloé était encore en train de se faire son parisienne. “Vous savez, vous n’avez pas à parler comme ça, hein.”
“Je sais,” répondit Chloé avec un petit soupir. “Mais j’ai toujours eu taquine quand je parle. Ils rient et disent ‘stupide québécois.’ Alors, j’essaie de parler comme eux, parfois.”
“Vous savez pourquoi ils disent cela?” Jean-Pierre a demandé que ils ont cessé de recueillir des bagages de Chloé. Chloé hocha la tête alors qu’elle attendait la réponse. “Parce qu’ils sont jaloux.” Chloe roulait des yeux comme Jean Pierre rire à la légère. “Viens. Nous rejoindre votre mère pour le déjeuner. Elle a une première galerie d’aujourd’hui.”
“Est-ce que Dom être à midi?” Chloé a demandé avec une certaine curiosité.
“Oh, elle avait des choses à prendre soin d’aujourd’hui,” Jean-Pierre répondit avec un haussement d’épaules de petite taille. “C’est son jour de congé du travail, de sorte qu’elle pourrait ne pas apparaître jusqu’à ce soir souper. Mais elle est elle-même de maintien de la détresse.”
Le sac à dos a été caché sur un toit et Dominique sprinté sur les toits, en gardant un œil sur la rue ci-dessous. Ils n’avaient pas eu trop loin, elle pouvait encore voir la fille aux cheveux roses. Mais ils se dirigeaient vers un parc, une avec de petits arbres et des haies soigneusement taillées et bloquerait vue de Dominique si elle essayait d’utiliser sa ligne de swing. «Merde, murmurait-elle, comme elle est tombée à la rue. Elle aurait à suivre de près à pied, je l’espère attraper l’homme à l’habit gris essaient de faire quelque chose.
Elle a sprinté dans les buissons, en regardant les deux arpenté les allées du parc. La jeune fille aux cheveux roses se dirigeait dans une zone ombragée du parc, l’homme à l’habit gris se refermait sur elle. Il faisait grand jour, mais pas beaucoup ont été dans le parc lui-même. Dominique baissa derrière quelques-uns des arbres, comme elle a suivi de près, en gardant les yeux sur la paire. Dans sa poche de veste, elle se sentait vibrer téléphone cellulaire, une distraction mineure, mais qui n’a pas force de lui faire perdre les deux, elle a suivi.
“Bonjour,” dit-elle avec un murmure dans la cellule où elle a suivi à travers les arbres le long.
“Dom,” répondit la voix à l’autre bout. Il a été Frechette. “Quel est le statut?”
“Vous savez que le parc juste à côté du bâtiment d’enseignement sur le campus de McGill?” Dit-elle dans un murmure. Elle a entendu Frechette reconnaître positivement. “Ils sont passés par là, entrer dans les sentiers boisés lourds.”
“Stick avec eux. S’il consent une avance, il briser un «essayer de lui faire exécuter du Nord. Nous mettons en place un piège là-bas,” a expliqué Fréchette rapidement.
“Alright,” Dom a répondu rapidement. “Avez-aller. Il se rapproche.” Elle raccrocha et se glissa le téléphone portable dans sa poche, comme elle sont allées plus vite à travers les arbres. Elle a observé que la jeune fille aux cheveux roses arrêté sur le chemin. Elle était à la recherche sur l’un des CD de nouveau, mais cette fois, elle prenait un lecteur de disque portatif. Dom n’avait pas vu l’un de ceux pour toujours, mais elle savait certaines personnes continuent de les transporter. L’homme tira de proche en proche.
Dom siffla entre ses dents, comme elle entrait dans les dix mètres de la paire. L’homme tendit que Dom est arrivé derrière eux. Il saisit la jeune fille aux cheveux roses et tira son dos avec une main rude. Elle a crié, passant son sac de CD et le lecteur de disque. Dom ne pas voir le visage de l’homme, mais elle s’en fichait. Il avait effectué son coup maintenant, elle allait faire le sien.
Able suivi de près les deux descendit le trottoir, une voix lancinante dans sa tête n’arrêtait pas de demander où Dom avait disparu. Il était sûr qu’il avait vu son canard dans une ruelle, mais avait perdu de vue. peu importe, il a dû suivre Claire et s’assurer qu’elle était bien. À un moment donné, il a entendu un commentaire de l’excitation comme une seule personne dans la rue a souligné le toit. Il a pris un coup d’oeil rapide, puis une double prise en voyant l’uniforme rouge et blanc des Canadiens. Il avait lu à propos de vigiles costumés de Montréal, mais n’avait jamais vu de tout près.
“Est-ce blouson Dom-t-il tout bas à lui-même?” comme il a gardé la suite Claire et son harceleur. Il poussa la pensée de côté comme il a vu tomber les Canadiens à la rue et le sprint dans les buissons d’un parc. Able attendu la lumière de changer et j’ai sprinté aussi vite qu’il pouvait traverser la rue.
Il se maudit, comme il a perdu de vue les deux, en regardant autour frénétiquement quelque signe. Sans la moindre idée, il se mit à marcher le long du chemin, dans l’espoir de voir quelque chose. Il entendit un cri, et fit claquer son attention vers la direction, se mettre à courir.
L’homme dévisagea Dom, comme elle a pris un élan en lui avec son poing. Il s’est penché et a déménagé à s’échapper. Dom égalé son mouvement, essayant de le troupeau dans la direction Fréchette lui a parlé. Plusieurs fois il a essayé de contourner Dom, mais finalement abandonné et a couru dans la direction que Dom espérait qu’il le ferait. Elle se retourna vers la jeune fille, et dit d’une voix ferme. “Attends-moi ici!”
Elle a vite couru après l’homme, qui a progressé rapidement à travers les arbres et les buissons. Dom serait en mesure de suivre, elle pouvait courir quand elle avait besoin pour. Tant que quelque chose d’inattendu ne se produise pas.
Elle a percuté le sol dur comme elle a senti quelque chose dans son slam. Très vite, elle se força à se concentrer, en tournant son attention vers ce qui l’a frappée. Ses yeux s’agrandirent quand elle vit que le kilt et veste en cuir connaissent bien usé. “Able!” Elle criait avec surprise qu’elle s’est rapidement sur ses pieds. “Reste avec elle. Je dois y aller.” Elle s’élança à travers les buissons rapidement, en espérant que l’interruption mineure ne serait pas son coût.
Capable se leva et regarda sprint Canadiens au bout de l’attaquant, puis se tourna vers Claire. Il s’approcha d’elle et l’a aidée à récupérer son CD et lecteur de disque. “Ça va, fille?”
“Je suis … Je suis bien,” balbutiait-elle comme elle en tremblant mis ses affaires loin dans le sac en plastique. “Tu la connais?”
“Euh …” Able a commencé comme il le croyait la meilleure façon de répondre. “Kind of. En quelque sorte. Peut-être.” Il soupira légèrement, comme il a aidé Claire à ses pieds. “Non, pas vraiment tout ce que bien, disons que, Luv.”
“Vous m’avez suivi?” A déclaré Claire comme elle s’accrochait au bras de Able.
“Eh bien,” reprit-il avec un haussement d’épaules et un petit sourire. “Moi et Claude vu le gars congé juste après, mais j’ai un peu peur, alors j’ai suivi alors que Claude a appelé les flics.”
“Oh Able,” dit Claire avec un sourire doux comme elle le serra fortement. “Mon héros!”
“C’est … bonne fille,” me répondit-il avec un soupir et tapota l’épaule de Claire à la légère, mais avec une certaine surprise de sa réaction. “Viens. Sortons de cet endroit et voir si nous ne pouvons pas trouver la police.”
Free Man in Paris
Jean Pierre looked at his watch as he stood in the main terminal of Pierre Elliot Trudeau International Airport. He was early for the arrival from Paris, France, but he wanted to make sure he had a lot of time, and he didn’t want his youngest daughter to worry. Fortunately, his office gave him the time to pick up Chloe, as Monika had a gallery engagement that she could not get out of. It had been eight months since Chloe went back to France for her high school education and classes for a hopeful modelling career. But, this year there was a small amount of controversy. Chloe was asked not to return because of an incident. No proof had been established, but there was enough finger pointing in Chloe’s direction that the administrators of the school deemed it necessary to ask Jean Pierre and Monika not to send Chloe back to Paris.
All of it was due to a well guarded secret, even more well guarded than Dominique’s activities as Canadiens. Chloe had a gift, albeit a gift that sometimes got her into trouble. She could channel natural electrical patterns through herself. There were many days Jean Pierre could recall where Dominique and Chloe would get into a shock war. Chloe would lightly rub her feet on the floor and touch her sister’s shoulder, which would send a good electrical current through Dominique. Who would of course, retaliate. Such an action was suspected in the controversy in Paris, though no one could prove it. Jean Pierre knew, however, and he also knew that Chloe did not purposefully wish to harm anyone. It was her aspect of fun.
His thoughts returned to the present as he spotted a well dressed, young woman walking through the terminal. Chloe was the complete opposite of Dominique. Where Dominique was happy with her tattered jeans and a clean tee-shirt, Chloe needed well pressed, name brand clothes. Dominique had a rat’s nest for hair at times, while Chloe wouldn’t go down to breakfast without brushing hers.
Jean Pierre smiled as Chloe saw him. She waved as he walked over to her, giving her a big hug. “Ah it’s been so long, Chloe,” he said with a grin.
“Oui, papa,” Chloe replied with a smile as she returned the hug.
“The flight was alright?” he asked as he lead her through the terminal.
“It was alright. I had a window seat, so I could see when we were coming into Montreal,” she said in a rather forced accent.
Jean Pierre shook his head and chuckled. Chloe was still trying to make herself sound Parisian. “You know, you don’t have to talk like dat, hmm.”
“I know,” Chloe replied with a small sigh. “But I always got teased when I’d speak. Zhey would laugh and say ‘stupid Quebecois’. So, I try an’ talk like dem sometime.”
“You know why they would say dat?” Jean Pierre asked as they stopped to gather Chloe’s luggage. Chloe shook her head as she waited for the answer. “Because they are jealous.” Chloe rolled her eyes as Jean Pierre chuckled lightly. “Come on. We’ll join your mother for lunch. She has a gallery premiere today.”
“Will Dom be at lunch?” Chloe asked with some curiosity.
“Oh, she had some things to take care of today,” Jean Pierre replied with a small shrug. “It’s her day off from work, so she might not show up until supper tonight. But she’s keeping herself out of trouble.”
The backpack was stashed on a rooftop and Dominique sprinted across the rooftops, keeping a sharp eye on the street below. They hadn’t gotten too far ahead, she could still see the girl in the pink hair. But they were heading toward a park, one with small trees and carefully trimmed hedges, and would block Dominique’s view if she tried to use her swing line. “Merde,” she muttered as she dropped to the street below. She’d have to follow close on foot, hopefully catch the man in the grey coat trying to do something.
She sprinted into the bushes, watching as the two walked the paths of the park. The pink haired girl was heading through a shadowed area of the park, the man in the grey coat was closing in on her. It was broad daylight, but not many were in the park itself. Dominique ducked behind a few of the trees as she followed closely, keeping her eyes on the pair. In her jacket pocket, she felt her cell phone vibrate, a minor distraction, but one that did not force her to lose the two she followed.
“’Allo,” she said with a whisper into the cell as she followed along through the trees.
“Dom,” replied the voice on the other end. It was Frechette. “What’s the status?”
“You know dat park jus’ near de education building on McGill campus?” she asked in a whisper. She heard Frechette acknowledge positively. “Dey went t’rough dere, goin’ into the heavy treed paths.”
“Stick wit’ them. If he makes an advance, break it up an’ try to get him to run north. We’re settin’ up a trap there,” Frechette explained quickly.
“Alright,” Dom replied quickly. “Gotta go. He gettin’ closer.” She rang off and slipped the cell phone into her pocket as she moved faster through the trees. She watched as the pink haired girl stopped on the path. She was looking over one of the CD’s again, but this time she was taking out a portable disc player. Dom hadn’t seen one of those in forever, but she knew some people still carried them. The man drew closer and closer.
Dom hissed under her breath as she came within ten yards of the pair. The man reached out as Dom came up behind them. He grabbed the pink haired girl and pulled her back with a rough hand. She screamed, dropping her bag of CD’s and the disc player. Dom didn’t see the man’s face, but she didn’t care. He’d made his move now she was going to make hers.
Able followed closely as the two went down the side walk, a nagging voice in his head kept asking where Dom had gone. He was sure he had seen her duck into an alleyway, but had lost sight of her. Little matter, he had to follow Claire and make sure she was alright. At one point, he heard a comment of excitement as one person on the street pointed to the roof top. He took a quick peek, then a double take as he saw the red and white uniform of Canadiens. He’d read about Montreal’s costumed vigilante, but had never seen her up close.
“Is that Dom’s jacket?” he whispered to himself as he kept following Claire and her stalker. He pushed the thought aside as he saw Canadiens drop to the street and sprint into the bushes of a park. Able waited for the light to change and sprinted as quickly as he could across the street.
He cursed himself as he lost sight of the two, looking around frantically for some sign. Without any clue, he began to walk along the path, hoping to see something. He heard a scream, and snapped his attention toward the direction, breaking into a run.
The man glared at Dom as she took a swing at him with her fist. He ducked and moved to get away. Dom matched his move, trying to herd him in the direction Frechette told her about. Several times he tried to get around Dom, but finally gave up and ran in the direction that Dom was hoping he would. She glanced back to the girl, and said in a firm voice. “Wait ‘ere!”
She ran quickly after the man, who was moving fast through the trees and bushes. Dom would be able to keep up, she could run when she needed to. As long as something unexpected didn’t happen.
She hit the ground hard as she felt something slam into her. Quickly, she forced herself to focus, turning her attention to what hit her. Her eyes widened as she saw the familiar kilt and well worn leather jacket. “Able!” she cried out with surprise as she quickly got to her feet. “Stay wit’ her. I gotta go.” She dashed off through the bushes quickly, hoping that the minor interruption wouldn’t cost her.
Able got to his feet and watched Canadiens sprint off after the attacker, then turned to Claire. He went over to her and helped her pick up her CD’s and disc player. “Ye alright, lass?”
“I’m… I’m okay,” she stammered out as she shakily put her things away into the plastic bag. “You know her?”
“Um…” Able began as he thought how best to answer. “Kinda. Sorta. Maybe.” He sighed slightly as he helped Claire to her feet. “Not really all that well, let’s say that, luv.”
“You followed me?” Claire said as she clung to Able’s arm.
“Well,” he began with a shrug and a small smile. “Me an’ Claude saw the guy leave right after ye, got a little worried, so I followed while Claude called the cops.”
“Oh Able,” Claire said with a soft smile as she hugged him tightly. “My hero!”
“That’s … good, lass,” he replied with a sigh and patted Claire’s shoulder lightly, albeit with some surprise to her reaction. “C’mon. Let’s get outta this place an’ see if we cannu find the police.”
So, I discussed before in a video blog about music being an inspiration for Flag on my Backpack. So far, each chapter of the series has had a song title as the name. Each, I named just because it happened to be the song that was playing at the time when I wrote it. Here’s a description of each of those artists.
Neil Young – Born in Toronto, Ontario, Young is well known in music. Both as a singer songwriter and as a producer. Since a boy, Young was always fascinated with music, drawn toward rock and roll, rockabilly and rhythm and blues. When he was 12, his parents divorced and he moved with his mother back to Winnipeg, Manitoba. His first band was called the Squires, and while in Fort William (now a part of Thunder Bay, Ontario) Young first met Stephen Stills. Young would go onto a strong career with the likes of Crosby, Stills and Nash, and Crazyhorse. His focus became political, as he would be seen as a champion of civil rights. Through the many awards he has received, Juno and Grammy nominations and wins, he also holds two honourary doctorates and was awarded the Order of Manitoba and is an officer of the Order of Canada.
Nickelback – The band formed with brothers Chad and Mike Kroeger in Hanna, Alberta. The name came from Mike’s job at Starbucks where he’d give change back by saying “Here’s your nickel back.” Nickelback has had a large mainstream success, and have had singles that have achieved certified gold in both Canada and the United States. Nickelback calls Vancouver, British Columbia home.
Rush – Rush is the premiere Canadian arena rock band. With Geddy Lee on vocals, bass and keyboard, Neil Peart on drums and Alex Lifeson on guitar, the band has been together for over thirty years. Winning numerous Juno awards, Rush was inducted into the Canadian Music Hall of Fame in 1994. They are known more for their live performances than their albums, but it is those performances that propel sales. The band continue to tour, as they are on the last leg of the Clockwork Angels and Time Machine tour. On June 25, 2010, Rush received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
Three Days Grace – This Norwood, Ontario band formed in 1992 under the name Groundswell. After a breakup in 1997, they reformed later that year under their current name. To date, they have released three studio albums. 2003′s Three Days Grace and 2006′s One-X have been both certified platinum and double platinum in the United States and Canada respectively. Their present album, Life Starts Now, was released in April, 2009.
Helix – A Canadian rock/metal band that formed in 1974, they are known for the arena rock hit Rock You. The band continues to record, and has even been mentioned in the television series, The Trailer Park Boys.
Melissa Auf der Maur – Auf der Maur is a Canadian rock musician and professional photographer from Montreal, Quebec. She has been the bassist for Courtney Love’s Hole and with the Smashing Pumpkins. Her second solo album was released in March, 2010. Auf der Maur’s last name refers to (as has been commented) a Swiss river translated to On The Wall. She holds both Canadian and American citizenship as her father was Canadian and her mother born in the U.S. She holds a photography major from Concordia University. Auf der Maur is also active in the social awareness of the environment, and advocated for Doctor David Suzuki during the CBC Television series the Greatest Canadian.
The Guess Who – The Guess Who, from Winnipeg, Manitoba, are best known for their hit American Woman. Having been together for over thirty-five years, the band’s two best known members are Burton Cummings and Randy Bachman. Cummings would go onto a successful solo career and Bachman would front the band Bachman-Turner Overdrive, recording the unforgettable Takin’ Care of Business. Recently, after disputes by both Cummings and Bachman were set aside, the two have reunited with The Guess Who, performing across Canada and the U.S.
Billy Talent – This Mississauga, Ontario band has won several awards, as they have six awards from 25 nominations for the MuchMusic Awards and six awards from 12 nominations for Juno awards. The band has released four albums and is currently on tour for Billy Talent III.
Luba – Luba Kowalchyk is a Canadian musician, singer, songwriter and recording artist from Montreal, Quebec. Her best known work came from the 1980′s where she had such hits as Let It Go, Everytime I see Your Picture, Givin’ Away A Miracle and the Percy Sledge cover When A Man Loves a Woman. She has received a Juno for Female Vocalist of the year. She continues to record to this day, and remains one of the more popular Canadian female artists even though she has never charted in the United States.
Tragically Hip – From Kingston, Ontario, The Hip, as they are known, are the quintesential Canadian Rock band. They have released 12 studio albums, 2 live albums and have received numerous Canadian Music awards including 14 Junos. The Hip’s lyrical work is drawn from events in Canadian history, such as Fifty Mission Cap which details the life and death of Toronto Maple Leaf Bill Barilko, and Wheatkings which is about the story of David Milgard, where for the first time the city of Saskatoon is dubbed “The Paris of the Prairies”, and 38 Years Old which explores the affect of a family and a community after a vicious rape and murder nearly tears them apart. The ablum Day For Night, released in 1994, has been certified 6x platinum in Canada. The Hip are also responsible for Another Roadside Attraction, a series of tours across Canada that began in 1992.
Tom Cochrane and Red Rider – Cochrane was born in Lynne Lake, Manitoba and moved to Achton, Ontario and later Etobicoke at a young age. Musician and humanitarian, Cochrane is best known for his song Life Is A Highway. He toured across Canada in the 70′s in coffee houses before moving to Los Angeles where he wrote the theme music for the movie My Pleasure Is My Business. Unable to find work, he moved back to Toronto, where he drove cab and worked on a Caribean Cruise line. In 1978, Cochrane met Red Rider at El Mocambo Tavern in Toronto, where he became their lead singer. He soon became a household name in Canada, and in 1991 began a successful solo career. Cochrane lives in Toronto where he is an avid golfer, pilot and hockey buff. In April of 2008, Cochrane was invested as an Officer of the Order of Canada. He is also an honourary Colonel of the Canadian Air Force’s 409 Nighthawks Tactical Fighter Squadron. As a part of his investiture weekend in 2008, he experience his second flight in a CF-18.
The Real McKenzies – A scottish themed Celtic/Punk band that calls Vancouver, British Columbia home, the band began in 1992. Writing original material, they also resurrect traditional Scottish songs, giving them a punk influence. They have shared stage with Flogging Molly, The Misfits, and Metallica. They tour extensively, which included a 23 country tour in a van.
Gowan – Lawrence Gowan is a Scottish born Canadian musician best known for his hits Strange Animal and Criminal Mind. At the age of 19, Gowan earned an ARCT in classical piano performance from the Royal Conservatory of Music in Toronto, Ontario. Upon graduation he enjoyed modest success with the band Rhinegold. His first solo album was in 1992 and featured Kim Mitchell and Max Webster. Gowan has since become the lead singer for the band Styx, where they perform Criminal Mind during live performances. Gowan has been nominated for 11 Juno awards, winning in 1985 for Best Album and Best Album Graphics. In 1998, Gowan receive the National Achievement Award from the Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN).
April Wine – Formed in 1969, they chose the name simply because the band members thought the two words sounded good together. Hailing from Halifax, Nova Scotia, April Wine has been a mainstay in the Canadian rock scene, having released 29 albums (live, studio and compilation) and two videos. April Wine has never won a Juno, but has been nominated 11 times. Myles Goodwin was awarded the lifetime achievement award at the East Coast Music Awards, and April Wine was inducted into the Canadian Music Industry Hall of Fame and awarded with the CMW Lifetime Achievement Award. In 2008 they were inducted into the East Coast Music Hall of Fame and in 2010 inducted into the Canadian Music Hall of Fame. They continue to record and tour today.
Honeymoon Suite – Formed in 1982 in Niagra Falls, Ontario, they took their name from the unofficial honeymoon capital of the world for their hometown. The band kept together until 1991 when Gary Lalonde and Dave Betts left. In 2007, they announced the original classic lineup returned where they continue to tour Canada and select Northeastern U.S. cities. Their second album, The Big Prize, saw their greatest success. Feel It Again reached top 40 status in the States. Bad Attitude was featured in the television series Miami Vice. What Does It Take reached #52, strong on its appearance in the John Cusack film One Crazy Summer.
Joni Mitchell – Like Neil Young, Joni Mitchell is well known in the music and arts industries. Born in Fort Macleod, Alberta, graduating from Aden Bowman Collegiate in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, she was best known as a songwriter first with such hits as Chelsea Morning, Both Sides Now and Woodstock. She would later become as well known for her singing as well, with her most notable being Big Yellow Taxi and Free Man in Paris. Mitchell’s father was a Royal Canadian Air Force officer, and the family moved to several bases during the war, finally settling in Saskatchewan after the war, first in Maidstone, then in North Battleford. Her father finally took a job as a grocer in Saskatoon, which Mitchell refers to as her hometown. She would later attend the Alberta College of Art and Design in Calgary for a year, during which time she made the acquaintance of another budding singer-songwriter, Harry Chapin. Mitchell left for Toronto to become a folksinger. She has won 9 Grammy’s and has been awarded several Canadian Awards, where she is considered a national treasure. In 2002, she became only the third singer songwriter along with Gordon Lightfoot and Leonard Cohen to be awarded the Companion to the Order of Canada, Canada’s highest civilian honour. Presently she is an artist, showcasing her work at several galleries. Saskatoon’s Riverlanding project is looking to build an art gallery along the South Saskatchewan river with one wing of the gallery being dedicated to Mitchell.
Sarah McLachlan – Born in Halifax, Nova Scotia, McLachlan is a singer songwriter known for her emotional ballads and mezzo-soprano vocal range. McLachlan was adopted as a child, and took voice lessons, along with studies in classical piano and guitar. When she was 17, she fronted the short-lived rock band called The October Game. Her high school year book predicted that Sarah was “destined to become a famous rock star.” In 1996, frustrated with the fact concert promoters and radio stations refused to feature two female musicians back to back, she booked a successful tour for herself and Paula Cole. One of their appearances in Halifax went by the name Lilith Fair, and included performances by McLachlan, Cole, Lisa Loeb and Michelle McAdorey, formerly of Crash Vegas. The next year, McLachlan founded the Lilith Fair tour, taking Lilith from the medieval Jewish legend that Lilith was Adam’s first wife. Subsequent Lilith Fair tours continued in 1998 and 1999 before being discontinued. Co-founder Terry McBride announced that the all-female festival would make its return in Summer 2010. McLachlan has been nominated for 21 Juno Awards, recieving 8. She has won 3 Grammy Awards. McLachlan has been extensively featured in the media including cover stories for Rolling Stone, Time Magazine, Entertainment Weekly and Flare, a Canadian fashion magazine. She has also been recognized for her efforts to advance the careers of women in music, receiving the Elizabeth Cady Stanton Visionary Award in 1998. In 1999, she was appointed as an Officer of the Order of Canada by then Governor General Adrienne Clarkson in recognition of her successful recording career, her role in Lilith Fair and the charitable donations she made to women’s shelters across Canada. In 2001, she was inducted to the Order of British Columbia.
The Northern Pikes – Hailing from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, The Pikes, as they are affectionately called, were formed in 1984 under Merl Bryck, Jay Semko, Bryan Potvin and Glen Hollingshead. Hollingshead left the band shortly after forming and was replaced by Don Schmidt. Their first wide release album was Big Blue Sky which contained the hit Teenland, penned by Semko. The band continued to record and tour together until 1993. Semko went on to have a successful career as a composer, notably composing the music for the television series Due South. In 1999, the band reunited, releasing a Greatest Hits album and two more studio albums. Their 1990 album Snow In June became their biggest seller in Canada and the U.S. mostly on the success of the lead single She Ain’t Pretty. The Pikes have been nominated for five Juno awards, but have never recorded a win. The Northern Pikes continue to tour across Canada.
All information gathered from wikipedia.
Three more parts to go! Hope everyone’s been enjoying it thus far.
Tout au long vous saviez
Dom roula dans son lit que son alarme s’est déclenchée. Un jour de congé, un beau jour de congé. Elle éteint l’alarme et lentement rampé hors du lit, ne pas donner son corps le temps de se recoucha et de succomber à plus de sommeil. Même si c’était un jour de congé, elle avait encore une longue journée devant elle. pratique de la musique, il a été le jour de paie, ainsi, vérifier avec Fréchette et Kowalsky dans l’après-midi. Et il y avait le discours qu’elle devait avoir avec ses parents à propos de cette opération d’infiltration. Alors que les deux officiers a dit son secret a été d’une importance capitale, elle sentait qu’elle avait encore à informer au moins de ses parents. D’ailleurs, elle sentait qu’elle devait à son père après le chit chat petite la nuit précédente. Ils n’ont jamais eu une chance plus tard pour en parler.
Elle aurait à faire ce matin.
Elle marchaient en bas et sourit en voyant ses parents de terminer leur petit déjeuner. Son père leva les yeux et sourit comme elle s’assit en face de la plaque de bacon, saucisse, œufs et pommes de terre rissolées. Elle a remercié sa mère, elle versa un verre de jus d’orange et regarda à son père comme il a fait preuve la section divertissement, ouvert à la scène club.”Vous les gars j’ai un examen décent, Dom,” dit-il en définir le papier à côté d’elle.
Dom a arrêté de manger lentement et ramassa le papier, la lecture des commentaires et de rire de temps à autre. “Yves va comme ça, c’est sûr, dit-elle avec un petit rire. «Sa belle que nous recevons les commentaires décent.”
“J’ai pensé que vous les gars voulais juste somet’ing à faire pour un passe-temps,” dit son père avec un sourire.
“Eh, c’est amusant, vous le savez,” Dom a répondu comme elle pelleté quelques pommes de terre rissolées dans sa bouche. “Vous savez, nous éviter des ennuis. Et nous sortir de temps ta temps.”
“En parlant de difficulté, Dominique,” sa mère a déclaré catégoriquement. Dom pourrait dire le ton signifiait une sérieuse discussion était sur le point de commencer. “Où avez-vous la nuit dernière?”
Dom cessé de manger et regarda entre ses père et mère pour un moment, puis elle a souhaité pourrait diminuer de derrière son journal et à manger son petit déjeuner. Pas de chance, cependant, comme elle a toujours su exactement ce que sa mère parlait de. Et elle a toujours su que sa mère n’a jamais rien laisser passer qui a été aussi grave que ce que Dom a fait hier soir. Surtout depuis qu’elle a été considérée comme un justicier costumé.
“Juste … vous le savez,” dit-elle avec un haussement d’épaules comme elle a essayé de trouver les mots. Comme Canadiens, Dom pourrait arrêter des voleurs de banque, déjouer les ravisseurs et courriers en agresseurs. Mais sa plus grande faiblesse était sa mère. “…contribué à la police un peu. Essayer de trouver que les attaquant. L’un dans les journaux.” Sa mère a juste regardé Dom, comme si le regard dans ses yeux tout dit. “Qu’est-ce, les officiers avec lesquels je travaille me dire à un peu scout, pas s’impliquer directement, vous savez. Je ne suis pas à la chasse ce gars-là ou quelque chose comme ça.”
“Alors, la police vous sanctionner, Dominique?”
“Eh bien,” répondit Dom lentement qu’elle couper son bacon. “Juste Fréchette et Kowalsky. L’inspecteur en chef, ils disent qu’il n’est pas exactement un fan de vigiles costume et tout ça.” Elle a pris une autre boisson dans son verre de jus en espérant que la description courte est suffisante. Le regard de sa mère répondu à cette question rapidement. “Fréchette m’a demandé!”
“Dominique,” sa mère a commencé, sa voix il est préférable d’essayer de retenir un ton de colère. “Cet homme est très dangereux. Vous devez être prudent, ce n’est pas un jeu auquel vous jouez, vous savez. Il est très important que vous compreniez cela.”
“Maman!” Dit-elle défensive, puis s’est tourné vers son père. “N’avez-vous pas faire quelque chose comme ça?”
“Oui,” Jean-Pierre lui répondit avec un hochement de tête calme. “Mais alors, FLQ terroristes sont un peu différente, alors les violeurs …”
“Maintenant, tenez vous bien,” Dom interrompu rapidement. “Frechette a dit que ce gars-là n’est pas réellement un violeur. La police vient l’alimentation que pour les médias de manière à empêcher les viols d’autres de se produire. Elle a dit que si elles se nourrissent que des informations, puis la possibilité d’une diminution de chat de copie. Surtout quand ils disent que les patrouilles ont augmenté. Les attaques juste à Bishop Mountain Hall.” Elle le regarda entre ses père et mère pour un moment, espérons que cette nouvelle information évier po.
Sa mère fixé sa fourchette et se racla la gorge, un signal, elle allait parler. Habituellement, ce n’est pas quelque chose que Dom voulait entendre. “Je n’ai pas besoin de vous dire que cela ce ne sera pas me faire plaisir, Dominique,” dit-elle d’un ton calme. “Mais je sais aussi que vous êtes extrêmement têtu, donc peu importe ce que nous disons, je pense que vous allez faire ce que vous voulez. Cela dit, je sais que vous pouvez vous protéger. Je vous ai vu à la télévision quelques fois … et Dieu sait mon cœur a sauté dans ma gorge quand je l’ai vu … mais je sais que vous pouvez vous protéger. Nous ne pouvons pas vous dire de ne pas aller faire cela. Ce serait un double standard. Suffit de faire attention.”
Il y eut un silence solennel que Dom a eu des mots de sa mère. Enfin, elle hocha la tête et a offert un petit sourire de Merci. “Au moins, je ne vais pas faire plus de ce que la police me demander, vous savez,” dit-elle rassuré sa mère. “Hey, on ne sait jamais, peut-être ce sera une excellente occasion de s’inscrire à des services de police de protection ou de quelque chose.”
Monika roula des yeux et soupira en secouant la tête. “Vous venez de vous concentrer sur votre musique pour le moment, et je serai content avec ça, oui.”
Able McIntyre a déverrouillé la porte du magasin de musique comme il l’a toujours fait depuis le début de son emploi à Bin AJ Bargain CD. Il lui a fallu que quelques jours pour obtenir le brevet de routine vers le bas, et trouvent qu’il est facile, après tout. Chaque jour de semaine à 10h30, il avait ouvert, se rendre au travail par dix heures du matin et avoir le magasin prêt à partir au moment où il était prêt à débloquer pour la journée. Bien sûr, il a ouvert tous les jours, il y avait toujours la même foule qui se rassemblent.
La jeune fille qui a toujours mâchée, ce qui suppose Able, le même morceau de gomme. Les emos, ceux qui avaient traînent dans les magasins et demandent souvent exactement la même question. Il y avait le geek cherche gars qui avait toujours venir et le métier de son vieux CD’s pour les nouveaux. Able supposé qu’il avait un serveur de partage de fichiers et était juste ripper les pistes CD. Le gamin avait été tous les jours que mesure avait travaillé ici, et il prit l’enfant s’est présenté bien avant. Il était le gars qui mesure et son collègue Claude surnommé les lianes, les gars qui a accroché dans le magasin juste pour regarder les poussins goth entrent en jeu. Il y avait généralement une liane nouvelle qui dérive dans le magasin.
Comme toujours, Claude a montré exactement où il était censé, à 10h30, au plus tôt, au plus tard. Claude pourrait s’en tirer en quelque sorte, son frère aîné, Etienne propriétaires de la boutique. Et comme toujours, serait Claude poser les mêmes questions.
“Cafe?” Il me demandait en français. Il le fit d’abord juste pour Able bug, mais une fois que vous faites quelque chose de plus et plus et plus encore, il ne devient plus taquiner.
“À l’arrière, où il fait toujours, mate,” Able a répondu comme il a déménagé une boîte pleine de CD derrière le comptoir. Il a commencé à organiser des CD dans les épaves comme Claude fixe lui-même un café.
“Vous possédez une paire de pantalons à tous?” Claude a dit que son retour sur le devant, café à la main. Il souriait en regardant de plus kilt écossais Able généralement de couleur verte.
Able bafoué et a souligné jeans déchirés Claude. “Avez-vous, camarade?” Ripped serait un compliment, que les jeans Claude avait des trous dans leur assez grande pour mettre un coup de poing à travers eux avec aisance.
“Entendu, mon ami,” dit Claude avec un rire comme il a commencé le till et allumé l’ordinateur. “Où étiez-vous hier? Pensais que vous alliez à venir plus à Henri pour cette jam session. Claire était là, demandant à votre sujet.”
“J’ai eu une invitation pour aller à la Loft, regarder Blanc Noir,” Able répondu. “Got passer du temps avec le groupe.”
“Où avez-vous score?” Claude a demandé à une impressionné, mais jaloux chercher sur son visage.
“Je suis allé prendre un café et un beigne au Tim,” Able expliqué comme il fini de charger le CD épaves. “Découvert toute la bande qui travaille à Tim. Nous sommes arrivés à parler, Mme Michelle me donner un billet.”
“Michelle Villeneauve?” Claude a annoncé avec un certain étonnement dans la voix. “Oh mec, elle est chaude. Alors, qu’avez-vous fait? Qu’est-ce que vous parler?”
Able sourit alors qu’il rentrait au comptoir et a sauté pour prendre un siège. “Ils m’ont demandé si je veux la confiture avec eux un certain temps.” Il avait l’air de Claude avec un sourire et rire comme son collègue près déclenché sur lui-même avec incrédulité.
“Jam avec eux?” Claude poussa un profond soupir, comme s’il avait été dit qu’il a gagné à la loterie. “Dude, vous avez pour voir si Michelle est de voir personne. Vraiment, l’homme. Faites-le.”
“Mate, je ne vais pas être ton homme d’aile pour un groupe,” Able a répondu comme il secoua la tête. “Mais, je vais voir si je peux vous les billets pour le prochain spectacle.” Claude est devenu muet comme il cligna des yeux deux fois, puis regarda les yeux écarquillés à Able. Il a enfin rompu son silence avec des cris de joie, près de laisser tomber son café. “Vous êtes les bienvenus, mon pote.”
Les choses ont commencé à couler dans la routine que les premiers clients quelques entrées. Le PGE en premier, suivi par un couple d’preps. Juste à temps, comme sur des roulettes, le gamin est venu dans le commerce un bouquet de ses CD’s. Claude et Able échangèrent un regard que le premier de ce qu’ils ont reconnu comme une liane entra elles donneraient le gars de vingt minutes, puis lui demander s’il allait acheter quelque chose. Quinze minutes à partir de midi, Claude a vu un visage familier.
“Voici Claire,” dit-il en passant Able et lui donna un coup de coude. Able tourné comme la sonnette retentit annonçant un autre client était entré. Il sourit en voyant la jeune femme, ses cheveux roses pas la seule chose unique à son sujet.
“Hey! Able!” Dit-elle comme elle a remarqué le jeune homme. “Où étiez-vous hier?”
“Il m’a invité à La Loft nuit dernière,” a rapidement annoncé que Claude-il déplacé quelques boîtes de CD.
Claire regarda à Able avec un sourcil s’est manifesté. Able se contenta de sourire en regardant entre Claude et Claire. “J’ai des billets de l’un des membres de la bande de Blanc Noir. Went et les ai vus hier soir.” Claire donne un aspect similaire que Claude lui avait donné plus haut, mais elle restait silencieuse. “Ils m’ont demandé de la confiture avec eux,” il est monté sur l’expliquer.
“Blanc Noir?” elle enfin à haletait. “Tu vas jouer avec Blanc Noir? Vous allez confiture avec Yves Manderville?” Dit-elle, comme elle a commencé à s’évanouir. “Yves est si rêveuse.”
“Si c’était le cas, Claire, nous avons eu quelques ‘rêveurs’ nouveau CD dans votre section punk rock préférés,” a annoncé Claude en riant. Claire sourit en réponse et se dirigea vers la section elle savait que trop bien. Able désormais plus que Claude et s’appuya contre le compteur de la caisse. “Elle est vraiment collante, mon ami. Êtes-vous sûr de vouloir lui demander de sortir?”
“Je commence à voir ce que vous avez été moi avertissement au sujet de ces deux dernières semaines, mate,” Able dit avec un clin d’œil. “Et Yves serait son casser en deux. Lad marche bien, c’est sans aucun doute.” Claude hocha la tête, mais réduit ses yeux que quelque chose a attiré son attention. Il frappa l’épaule de Able et fit signe à la vigne. L’homme à l’habit gris long a été de tamisage au moyen de CD, mais à chaque instant et puis il me regardait dans la direction de Claire.
Able cherché à Claude, comme il fronça les sourcils. “Vous n’y pensez pas,” Able dit que Claude ne fit un signe de réponse, pas besoin d’entendre la question complète. “Donne quelques minutes.” Able dit avec une nuance de prudence dans sa voix.
Lui et Claude déplacé vers leur candeur habituelle que Claire revint avec quatre CD dans ses mains. “Voyons voir ce que vous êtes arrivé ici, Claire,” dit Claude, comme il a étudié le CD méticuleusement. “Bon choix,” dit-il avec un clin d’œil impressionné. “Cela devrait vous tenir en haleine pendant un certain temps. Et le total est de 24 dollars et 75 cents.” Il a eu une période de vingt et un dix avec un sourire de Claire et sonna son achat par le biais, ce qui lui revenir comme étant en mesure de les enveloppé dans un sac en plastique.
Claire sourit, en prenant soin de fermer les yeux sur Able, agitant comme elle a commencé à sortir du magasin. Les deux Claude et Able tourné leur attention vers l’homme à l’habit gris. Il a pris un coup d’oeil dans le magasin, et se glissait hors de la porte d’entrée derrière Claire.
“Vous pensez à quoi je pense, mon ami,” dit Claude avec une légère grimace.
“Vous appelez les flics,” Able dit-il en saisit sa veste. “Je vais les suivre et de vous donner un appel où ils vont.”
Dom a quitté la banque en tant elle comptait quelques-uns de ses factures, puis les plaça soigneusement dans son portefeuille. Son portefeuille est allé parfaitement dans la poche de la veste à l’intérieur de son blouson de cuir. Projets de loi, payé. Le prochain arrêt était de recueillir des documents du département de musique de McGill, les classes allaient être bientôt partir et elle avait besoin pour être prêt. Heureusement que ce serait une courte distance de marche de la banque, et ce fut une journée chaude. Elle tira son sac à dos sur l’épaule et a commencé sa marche.
Il y avait quelques personnes qui errent pour ce lundi matin. Elle se sentait de bonne humeur et fredonnait doucement à elle-même en marchant. Pas besoin aujourd’hui pour les iPod. Sur le chemin, elle avait passants saluent avec un joyeux matin de bonne, et recevoir un sourire en réponse. Ça faisait du bien à faire jour, des gens un peu plus lumineux, même avec quelque chose de simple comme un sourire.
Comme elle un virage, elle a failli percuté un piéton. Une jeune fille aux cheveux roses, soigneusement regardant par-dessus la couverture d’un CD. Dom tendit la main et l’a attrapée avant tout couru dans l’autre. Il y eut un petit rire et un échange d’excuses avant chaque continuèrent leur route. Comme Dom regarda la jeune fille pour un moment, elle se mit à continuer sa route, et a été près de déborder.
L’homme à l’habit gris coup un éclat à elle, et maintenu en mouvement à un rythme précipité. Encore une fois, Dom regardé, mais cette fois avec inquiétude. Elle a vu la jeune fille aux cheveux roses, puis l’homme nouveau. Il serait de ralentir un peu, prendre son temps autour d’un kiosque à journaux, puis décoller à nouveau dans la même direction que la jeune fille aux cheveux roses. Il n’a pas fallu mathématiques complexes à comprendre les choses, surtout avec la nuit précédente piquent encore frais dans son esprit .
“Merde,” murmurait-elle, comme elle a sorti son téléphone cellulaire. Elle atteint son cadran de vitesse pour le nombre Accueil Frechette et attendit qu’elle a entendu la voix de l’officier annoncer «matin». “Agent, c’est moi. Dom,” dit-elle, puis il ajouta dans un murmure. “Canadiens.” Elle espère attention Fréchette porterait rapidement avec l’annonce. Elle ne le travail posté en retard Kowalsky, de sorte midi serait encore tôt pour elle.
“Dom? Qu’est-ce que c’est? Vous n’avez pas l’habitude me téléphone à la maison?” Ce fut la panique évidente dans la voix de Fréchette.
“Je pense que je l’ai vu,” dit-elle d’une voix calme. “Le gars que vous essayé de trouver. Le faire les attaques. Il suit une jeune fille en ce moment.”
“Pouvez-vous continuer?” Frechette a demandé rapidement. “Où êtes-vous?”
“Un édifice de l’Ouest de l’Université McGill,” Dom a dit qu’elle a commencé à marcher dans le sens de l’homme et la jeune fille.
“Je vais appeler Kowalsky et téléphone dans l’expédition,” a dit que Dom Frechette put entendre un frémissement dans l’arrière-plan. “Gardez-moi au courant, Dom.” Dom raccrocha et empoché son téléphone cellulaire. Il serait beaucoup plus facile à l’ombre de ces deux sur les toits. Et la seule façon qu’elle puisse faire ça a été dans son uniforme. Heureusement, c’était dans son sac à dos. Elle esquiva rapidement dans une ruelle, en veillant à l’homme et la fille ne sont pas trop loin.
Moins de la moitié d’un bloc en arrière, un jeune homme en kilt écossais vert arrêté dans son élan. “Était-ce Dom?”
All Along You Knew
Dom rolled over in her bed as her alarm went off. A day off, a glorious day off from work. She turned off the alarm and slowly crawled out of bed, not giving her body time to lay back down and succumb to more sleep. Even though it was a day off, she still had a busy day ahead of her. Music practise, it was pay day as well, check in with Frechette and Kowalsky in the afternoon. And there was the talk she needed to have with her parents about this sting operation. While the two officers told her secrecy was of the utmost importance, she felt she still had to inform at least her parents. Besides, she felt she owed it to her father after the small chit chat the previous night. They never had a chance later to talk about it.
She’d have to do it this morning.
She trudged downstairs and smiled as she saw her parents finishing their breakfast. Her father looked up and smiled as she sat down in front of the plate of bacon, sausage, eggs and hash browns. She thanked her mother as she poured a glass of orange juice and looked over to her father as he displayed the entertainment section, opened up to the club scene. “You guys got a decent review, Dom,” he said as he set the paper down beside her.
Dom stopped eating and slowly picked up the paper, reading the comments and laughing from time to time. “Yves gonna like dis, for sure,” she said with a chuckle. “It nice we’re gettin’ decent reviews.”
“I thought you guys just wanted somet’ing to do for a hobby,” her father said with a smirk.
“Eh, it’s fun, you know,” Dom replied as she shovelled some hash browns into her mouth. “You know, keep us outta trouble. An’ we get out from time ta time.”
“Speakin’ o’ trouble, Dominique,” her mother stated flatly. Dom could tell the tone meant a serious discussion was about to begin. “Where you go las’ night?”
Dom stopped eating and looked between her father and mother for a moment, then wished she could shrink behind the newspaper and just eat her breakfast. No such luck, however, as she always knew exactly what her mother was speaking of. And she always knew that her mother never let anything go that was as serious as what Dom did last night. Especially since she was considered a costumed vigilante.
“Jus’… you know,” she said with a shrug as she tried to find the words. As Canadiens, Dom could stop bank robbers, thwart kidnappers and haul in muggers. But her greatest weakness was her mom. “… ‘elped out de police a bit. Tryin’ ta find dat attacker. De one in de papers.” Her mother just looked at Dom, as though the look in her eyes said everything. “Wha’, de officers I workin’ wit’ tell me ta jus’ scout, no’ get involve directly, you know. I’m no’ out ‘untin’ dis guy or nut’in’.”
“So, de police are sanctionin’ you, Dominique?”
“Well,” Dom replied slowly as she cut up her bacon. “Jus’ Frechette an’ Kowalsky. De ‘ead inspector, dey say dat ‘e no’ exactly a fan o’ costume vigilantes an’ stuff.” She took another drink from her juice glass hoping that the short description was enough. The look from her mother answered that question quickly. “Frechette ask me!”
“Dominique,” her mother began, her voice trying it’s best to hold back an angry tone. “Dis man is very dangerous. You ‘ave to be careful, dis isn’t some game you are playin’, you know. It very important dat you realize dis.”
“Mama!” she exclaimed defensively, then looked to her father. “Di’n't you do anytin like dis?”
“Oui,” Jean Pierre answered with a calm nod. “Bu’ den, FLQ terrorist a little diff’rent den rapists…”
“Now ‘old on,” Dom interrupted quickly. “Frechette say dat dis guy ain’t actually a rapist. Police jus’ feed dat to media in a way to prevent odders from ‘appenin’. She say if dey feed dat information den chance o’ a copy cat is decrease. Especially when dey say dat patrols increase. De attacks jus’ ’round Bishop Mountain ‘All.” She looked between her mother and father for a moment, hoping this new information would sink in.
Her mother set down her fork and cleared her throat, a signal she was about to speak. Usually, it wasn’t something that Dom wanted to hear. “I don’ need to tell you that doing this will not make me pleased, Dominique,” she began in a quiet tone. “But I also know dat you are extremely stubborn, so no matter what we say, I think you gonna do what you want. Sayin’ dat, I know you can protect you’self. I seen you on TV a few times… an’ God know my heart jump into my throat when I saw it… but I know you can protect you’self. We can’t tell you not to go an’ do dis. It would be double standard. Just be careful.”
There was a solemn silence as Dom took in her mother’s words. Finally, she nodded and offered a small smile of thanks. “At least I not gonna do more ‘n what de police ask o’ me, you know,” she reassured her mother. “Hey, you never know, maybe dis be a perfect opportunity to enrol in police protective services or somet’ing.”
Monika rolled her eyes and sighed as she shook her head. “You jus’ concentrate on you music for now, an’ I’ll be happy with dat, oui.”
Able McIntyre unlocked the door to the music store as he always did since starting his job at AJ’s CD Bargain Bin. It took him only a couple of days to get the routine down pat, and found it easy after all. Every weekday at 10:30 he’d open, getting to work by ten in the morning and having the store ready to go by the time it was ready to unlock for the day. Of course, everyday he opened, there was always the same crowd that would gather.
The preppy girl that always chewed, what Able assumed, the same piece of gum. The emos, the ones who’d hang around the store and often ask exactly the same question. There was the geeky looking guy who’d always come in and trade his old CD’s for new ones. Able assumed he had a file sharing server and was just ripping CD tracks. The kid had been in every single day that Able had worked here, and he assumed the kid showed up well before that. There was the guys that Able and his co-worker Claude dubbed the creepers, guys who hung around the store just to watch the goth chicks come in. Usually there was a new creeper that would drift into the store.
As always, Claude showed up exactly when he was supposed to, 10:30, no earlier, no later. Claude could get away with it in a way, his older brother, Etienne owned the shop. And as always, Claude would ask the same questions.
“Cafe?” he’d ask in French. He did it at first just to bug Able, but once you do something over and over and over again, it no longer becomes teasing.
“In the back, where it always is, mate,” Able replied as he moved a box full of CD’s from behind the counter. He began organizing CD’s into the wracks as Claude fixed himself a coffee.
“You own a pair o’ pants at all?” Claude said as he returned to the front, coffee in hand. He smirked as he looked over Able’s usually green plaid kilt.
Able scoffed and pointed to Claude’s ripped jeans. “D’you, mate?” Ripped would be a compliment, as Claude’s jeans had holes in them big enough to put a fist through them with ease.
“Touche, mon ami,” Claude said with a laugh as he started up the till and turned on the computer. “Where were you yesterday? T’ought you were gonna be comin’ over to Henri’s for dat jam session. Claire was dere, askin’ ’bout you.”
“I got an invite ta go ta La Loft, watch Blanc Noir,” Able replied. “Got ta hang out with the band.”
“Where did you score dat?” Claude asked with an impressed, yet jealous look on his face.
“Went for a coffee an’ doughnut at a Tim’s,” Able explained as he finished loading up the CD wracks. “Found out the entire band works at that Tim’s. We got ta talkin’, Michelle give me a ticket.”
“Michelle Villeneauve?” Claude announced with some amazement in his voice. “Oh man, she’s hot. So, what you do? What you talk ’bout?”
Able grinned as he returned to the counter and hopped up to take a seat. “They asked if I wanna jam with ‘em some time.” He looked to Claude with a smile and chuckled as his co-worker nearly tripped over himself with disbelief.
“Jam wit’ dem?” Claude let out a heavy sigh as though he’d been told he won the lottery. “Dude, you gotta see if Michelle is seein’ anyone. Really, man. Do it.”
“Mate, I’m not gonna be yer wing man fer a band,” Able replied as he shook his head. “But, I will see if I can get ya tickets fer the next show.” Claude became speechless as he blinked twice, then stared wide eyed at Able. He finally broke his silence with a shout of joy, nearly dropping his coffee. “Yer welcome, mate.”
Things began to flow into routine as the first few customers entered. The emos first, followed by a couple of preps. Right on time, like clockwork, the geeky kid came in to trade a bunch of his CD’s. Claude and Able exchanged looks as the first of what they recognized as a creeper came in. They’d give the guy twenty minutes, then ask if he was going to buy anything. Fifteen minutes from noon, Claude saw a familiar face.
“Here come Claire,” he said as he passed Able and gave him a nudge. Able turned as the door bell rang out announcing another customer had entered. He smiled as he saw the young woman, her pink hair not the only unique thing about her.
“Hey! Able!” she called out as she spotted the young man. “Where were you yesterday?”
“He got invited ta La Loft las’ night,” Claude quickly announced as he moved around a few boxes of CD’s.
Claire looked to Able with a perked eyebrow. Able only smiled as he looked between Claude and Claire. “I got tickets from one o’ the band members o’ Blanc Noir. Went an’ saw ‘em last night.” Claire gave Able a similar look that Claude had given him earlier, but she still remained silent. “They asked me ta jam with ‘em,” he went onto explain.
“Blanc Noir?” she finally gasped out. “You gonna be playin’ with Blanc Noir? You gonna jam with Yves Manderville?” she exclaimed as she began to swoon. “Yves is so dreamy.”
“If dat de case, Claire, we got some ‘dreamy’ new CD’s in your favourite punk rock section,” Claude announced with a laugh. Claire grinned in reply and moved over to the section she knew all too well. Able moved over to Claude and leaned against the counter by the till. “She’s really clingy, mon ami. Are you sure you wanna ask ‘er out?”
“I’m startin’ ta see what ye’ve been warnin’ me ’bout fer the past coupla weeks, mate,” Able said with a nod. “An’ Yves would break her in two. Lad works out, that’s no doubt.” Claude nodded but narrowed his eyes as something caught his attention. He tapped Able’s shoulder and motioned to the creeper. The man in the grey long coat was sifting through CD’s, but every now and then he’d look up in Claire’s direction.
Able looked to Claude as he furrowed his brow. “Yer not thinkin’,” Able said as Claude only nodded in reply, not needing to hear the full question. “Give it a few minutes.” Able said with a cautious tinge in his voice.
Both he and Claude shifted back to their usual candour as Claire returned with four CD’s in her hands. “Let’s see what you got ‘ere, Claire,” Claude said as he studied the CD’s meticulously. “Good choices,” he said with an impressed nod. “This should keep you going for a while. An’ total is 24 dollars an’ 75 cents.” He took a twenty and a ten with a smile from Claire and rang her purchase through, giving her change back as Able wrapped them up in a plastic bag.
Claire grinned, making sure to wink at Able, waving as she began to walk out of the store. Both Claude and Able turned their attention to the man in the grey coat. He took a look around the store, and quietly slipped out of the front door behind Claire.
“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’, mon ami,” Claude said with a slight grimace.
“You call the cops,” Able said as he grabbed his jacket. “I’ll follow ‘em an’ give ya a call where they go.”
Dom exited the bank as she counted a few of her bills, then placed them carefully into her wallet. Her wallet went neatly into the inside jacket pocket of her leather jacket. Bills, payed. Next stop was to gather material from McGill’s music department, classes were going to be starting soon and she needed to be ready. Fortunately it would be a short walk from the bank, and it was a warm day. She pulled her backpack up on her shoulder and began her walk.
There was a few people milling about for this Monday morning. She felt in a good mood and hummed lightly to herself as she walked. No need for the iPod today. Along the way, she’d greet passersby with a cheery good morning, and receive a smile in reply. It felt good to make people’s day a little brighter, even with something as simple as a smile.
As she rounded a corner, she nearly slammed into another pedestrian. A girl in pink hair, studiously looking over the cover of a CD. Dom reached out and caught her before they completely ran into each other. There was a chuckle and an exchange of apologies before each went on their way. As Dom watched the girl for a moment, she began to continue on her way, and was nearly run over.
The man in the grey coat shot a glare at her, and kept moving at a rushed pace. Again, Dom watched, but this time with concern. She saw the pink haired girl, then the man again. He would slow down a bit, take his time around a newsstand, then take off again in the same direction as the pink haired girl. It didn’t take complex math to figure things out, especially with the previous night’s sting still fresh in her mind..
“Merde,” she muttered as she took out her cell phone. She hit her speed dial for Frechette’s home number and waited until she heard the officer’s voice announce ‘morning’. “Officer, it’s me. Dom,” she said, then added in a whisper. “Canadiens.” She hoped Frechette’s attention would focus quickly with the announcement. She did work late shift with Kowalsky, so noon would still be early for her.
“Dom? What is it? You don’t usually phone me at home?” There was obvious panic in Frechette’s voice.
“I think I saw him,” she said in a quiet voice. “The guy you been tryin’ ta find. The one doin’ the attacks. He’s followin’ a girl right now.”
“Can you keep up?” Frechette asked quickly. “Where are you?”
“A block west o’ McGill University,” Dom said as she began walking in the direction of the man and the young girl.
“I’ll call Kowalsky an’ phone it into dispatch,” Frechette said as Dom could hear rustling in the background. “Keep me posted, Dom.” Dom rang off and pocketed her cell phone. It would be a lot easier to shadow these two from the rooftops. And the only way she could actually do that was in her uniform. Fortunately, that was in her backpack. She dodged down an alleyway quickly, making sure the man and girl weren’t too far ahead.
Less than half a block back, a young man in a green plaid kilt stopped in his tracks. “Was that Dom?”
August is almost done with. It has been a great summer thus far here in Outlook. Even with all the rain. The first two weeks of August, which also coincided with a nice time of relaxation, were also very warm. The mixture of rain added to the humidity in the area, which can be a bit of a pain sometimes. However, it gave me the chance to sit down and get caught up on some reading and on some writing.
The reading included some of the books in the Jim Butcher Dresden Files series. At some point in time I’m actually going to watch the series that has been airing. I like to equate the Dresden Files like a new kind of hard core detective. Like Mike Hammer had he investigated mystical crimes.
I also cracked open the Sherlock Holmes anthology that I bought recently, revisiting a lot of the stories I remember reading as a kid, and even some of the stories that I watched with the Jeremy Brett version of Sherlock Holmes. I’ve yet to see the latest movie, but I’m going to at some point.
As I stated earlier, there is some writing that I’ve done as well. Blood of the Moon, Flag on my Backpack and even the outlines for a Halloween story (just in time for October) staring Black Mask & Pale Rider. Plus, I set up a site dedicate to just Flag on my Backpack, which runs a little more to the political at times, as that’s eventually how the story will take it’s turn. Real life, social issues will be focused on, while the story will still contain a light feel to it, and somewhat campy at the same time. By the time the end of August rolls around, I probably will be setting Blood of the Moon to the side for a little bit, as I’ve found it difficult to get moving. There may be a re-evaluation of Chelsea and her co-stars that comes with the story, because I honestly don’t want to leave it hanging.
As the end of the month comes upon us, it is a bit disheartening. The sun was setting at 10 o’clock at night and rising at 4 in the morning. Now, it’s started setting at 9 and rising around 5. Still that leaves a lot of sunlight hours in the day, but it’s also a reminder that soon the days will grow shorter and colder. Hopefully we’ll get a nice, warm autumn out of the deal. After all, this summer was much warmer than it was last year.
Until next time…
…keep ‘em flyin’.