The Noon God Read Online Free PDF Page B

laughter.
    Any of them might have harboured a secret resentment over Daddy’s treatment. Any of them might have hated him enough to kill him.
    But to Lucy he was just ‘Daddy’. He was the one who took care of her, made decisions for her, fed her and clothed her. In Lucy’s quiet sphere of reality Daddy stood like an icon.
    Besides, the police seemed to think it was a random attack. They thought a junkie or a drunk had killed him in the early morning hours in the hidden culvert at the back of the faculty building. There was no need to drag the baser aspects of Daddy’s nature into the equation.
    “ What will I do?” Lucy moaned.
    “ You don’t have to decide that now.”
    “ What would Daddy want me to do?”
    “ We’ll talk it over next week, after the funeral. If you like you can stay in Montreal. You’ve got friends there now. Or you can come back home and stay at the house. Or you can stay with me. I have plenty of room.”
    “ Will you move into the house?”
    “ No. I like where I’m living.”
    “ I don’t know what to do.”
    “ That’s ok,” I said.
    ~~
    From the time Lucy could walk, she was a follower. For years her pudgy little legs trailed after Abigail. From room to room and all around the neighbourhood, Gail never tired of Lucy’s adoration. The wiry Gail grew into a lean and sullen teen. Only Lucy was able to break through her wall of anger.
    Nowadays we would recognise in Gail the signs of foetal alcohol syndrome. It was apparent in her behaviour from the start. After all, Mommy drank her way through the first few months of her pregnancy and spent the final months in rehab. Based on what the experts say, Gail never really had a chance to develop normally.
    But back then we didn’t know as much about these things. Gail had problems but we saw them as her problems. By the time it became clear how troubled she was, her pattern of behaviour was already established. I see this sometimes among my students.
    When Gail was fourteen she discovered pot. Then came Ecstasy and Cocaine. Daddy never questioned where the money was going. My allowance went on books and clothes. I bought myself a little car that carried me around the city. But Gail sp ent hers on alcohol and drugs.
    I was living in residence during those years. By the time I spotted the problem Gail was already caught up in an all-too familiar spiral of self-destructive behaviour. History was repeating itself. I was terrified we would lose Gail the way we had Mom.
    I pleaded with Daddy to force Gail into rehab. As a minor she would have no choice. But he was either blind to the extent of her addiction or reluctant to admit it to the world. So Gail did not get help.
    “ At least cut off her allowance,” I argued. “Make it tough for her to get the stuff. Maybe if those so-called friends of hers have to pay their own way they’ll move on.”
    “ I have cut her off,” he waved his hand impatiently. “She steals it. She finds my wallet when I’m asleep and takes whatever she wants. There’s no point confronting her. She denies it.”
    “ Don’t carry cash,” I said. But I knew it was futile. Daddy would have the final say. By the time he agreed to have Gail committed to a rehab centre it was too late. She spent six weeks under a microscope and came home different, but the same. She was still addicted, but she no longer argued with Daddy. Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. She slid around the house tending to her chores and taking care of Lucy, mincing and smiling on command. Daddy was pleased with the result but it didn’t fool me.
    “ You’re stoned,” I said to her one afternoon over coffee.
    “ You are correct, Monty,” she smiled.
    “ Why, Gail?”
    “ Why not?”
    “ Don’t you care about your health?”
    She laughed.
    “ What about your future? Are you planning to drop out of high school?”
    “ It’s an option.”
    “ No it’s not. Daddy would never allow it.”
    “ I’ll be sixteen next week,” she