|buy prints of select halfsquatch photographs at etsy or dawanda. (prints of all photographs are available upon request)||day 59
Bob and Lisa Richman explained to Julie the countless reasons why it was inappropriate and grossly disrespectful that she’d taken a job as a production assistant on Sasquatch Summer.
“You told me to get a job,” Julie argued when Bob demanded she quit.
“We didn’t tell you to get this job,” Lisa countered.
“I’m not quitting. Forget it.” Julie crossed her arms in front of her chest defiantly.
“We will certainly not forget it!” Lisa yelled.
“Maybe she’s right, Lisa. Maybe we should forget it — just forget everything. Do whatever the hell you want, Julie,” Bob said. He patted the left breast pocket of his shirt, checking for cigarettes, then walked out the kitchen door to the backyard and around to the side of the shed, to light up.
He thought about Julie. Her selfishness made him sick with anger. He thought about Lisa and how she shrunk from him whenever he touched her – even by accident. He thought about Rebecca, and the cruel things that people said. He looked up the number for Yoshi Oba’s Art Motel in Vancouver, but hadn’t called. He didn’t know what he could say.
I could have told her, he thought. I should have told her. But there was never a good time. She was a baby when he moved to Whitehorse. He knew no one but Tucky Thompson and Tucky was too caught up in honing his man-of-the-north persona and playing daddy to a new baby of his own to give Bob’s situation much thought. While Bob was away Tucky met Andrea who shortly thereafter became pregnant with Dave. They were married only after Andrea threatened to return to Germany and raise the child herself. This wasn’t an uncommon story. Nor was Bob’s.
It was widely assumed that in his time away he’d fathered this child with a woman who couldn’t cope, who was perhaps unfit to deal with a baby. Maybe she was underage or an alcoholic. Maybe she was a drug addict or dead. People talked, but no one asked. That was the thing about the north — everyone, it seemed, had run away from something.
Bob let people believe what they liked.