Chapter Six - The Trailer on Lilac Lane

Pillar from the original farm marked the entrance to Lilac Lane

It was so exciting. We were going to finally be moving into our own place. Our own house. From what my parents told us, it was a lovely three bedroom home on a big piece of property, backing right onto a river. It wasn't on the lake, which was a bummer, but it was a five minute walk to a public access beach. There were snowmobile trails (we were getting a Ski-Doo!) and it was close enough to school to ride our bikes when the weather was nice. It was perfect. Everything we had dreamed about.

It also meant we did not have to spend another summer at the Lodge.

We had spent the last couple of years bouncing around from place to place. Five moves in two years, in fact. The idea of a place we could call our own and actually set down some roots was amazing. I was starting high school soon and stability seemed very important. The last few years had been anything but stable.

For two months I dreamed of this place. Never having seen it, I magicked it up in my mind and it was splendid. (The imaginary me went everywhere by horseback and had crazy adventures with her friends, a la Nancy Drew and every Enid Blyton novel.) Those months dragged by. The day of our move was one of the longest days I can remember. It was June 1, 1982, near the end of grade 7 and the last class of the day was Health. The gym/health teacher and I were not exactly fans of each other. I was an active kid, but not exactly athletic. My hobbit physique seemed to cause him great vexation. Oh, well. Whatever. This is not about him. But fuck him anyway.

I remember there being a slide show, which is usually welcomed, but this one was excruciatingly boring. I don't even remember the topic, just that I wanted that day to end so we could finally see our new home. The minutes dragged.

3:20 took its time, but it finally arrived. It was time to go home! Home! Our grandmother was picking us up from school, but first we had to run some errands in town. Gaahhhh - more waiting!! The grocery store, the LCBO (we still had the store where you filled out a little form and handed it to the guy behind the counter) and Dixie Lee chicken for dinner. I remember getting grape ice cream at Dixie Lee, which was pretty significant for Haliburton in 1982. Dixie Lee being there at all was pretty significant in a town where take-out was considered something of a "city" thing.

Our new home was on a long, private lane. There were four or five other properties, each of them right on the lake and about a km apart. It was very secluded. The lane passed through the ruins of a farm and a very small gravel quarry. There were large fields where cows and horses must have once grazed, now empty and abandoned looking. It was kind of creepy but, well, we were used to creepy.

LCBO before we were trusted with self-serve

The new place was a trailer, not quite the fantastical green and white farmhouse I had conjured up in my mind, but a nice trailer nonetheless. Ricky and Julian would consider it fancy. The previous owners had added a large kitchen, living room, laundry room, sun room and deck. It sat on three acres surrounded by trees and flanked on both sides by empty lots. At the bottom of the back lawn and down a steep embankment flowed the river. We even had a two-car garage and a garden shed!

Upon entering our new abode for the first time, my excitement was unexpectedly replaced by That Feeling. The feeling of Ick. "Ah, shit," I thought. My mum saw my face. She had felt it too.

"Never mind, never mind!" exclaimed Grandmama. "Welcome home, let's get unpacked." We busied ourselves unpacking bedding and clothing that we would need immediately. Everyone ignored the Ick.

Taking a bath that evening, I was suddenly overcome by anger. "I hate this fucking house," I said out loud. (I was fairly new to swearing and dropping an f-bomb out loud, even alone, was only done when I was extraordinarily pissed off.) The strength of my anger surprised and scared me, and I wanted to get the hell out of the bathroom as quickly as possible.

Our two labs, Jackson and Strider, now a year old and rambunctious dogs who chewed EVERYTHING, were put in the sunroom for the night. They were not settling in the new place and walked around growling at everything. Assuming it was just the stress of the move, unfamiliar surroundings and being pissed at being shut in the sunroom, we didn't really think much of it. Well, the adults didn't think much of it, anyway. JR and I wanted the dogs in our rooms with us, but there were New Rules concerning the dogs and the new house. The wall-to-wall shag carpeting was not exactly dog friendly.

Something woke me in the middle of the night. To this day, I do not remember what it was - it is like the memory has been removed from my head. All I recall is that I was terrified and I had to leave my room immediately. I walked out into the living room, where Grandmama was camped out on the couch. She too was awake. "Just ignore them, lambie," she said. "Just ignore them." The next thing I knew, there was a tremendous crash as Jackson and Strider tore through the screen door of the sunroom,  growling and barking in a way I had never heard from them before. Strider stood beside me in a protective way, while Jackson ran into my room, hackles up, growling. Pretty soon everyone was awake.

I ended up falling asleep on the living room floor with JR and the dogs. Jackson and Strider did not spend another night separated from us.

Chapter Seven - Mirrors & The Number 13