Part 1 / Chapter Two ⥈ Alarm Bells

    I wondered if his name was real. I'd never met him, but I knew that he had a beard, that he loved to cook and that he had a beautiful wife who had been a Swedish model. Her name was Victoria and she had long hair. My sister loved to cook too and Merle showed her how to peel and chop garlic and then place the flat edge of the knife on the pieces and smash them with the side of your fist, to release the oils. My sister taught me to do this too and I still do.

    She started hanging with them sometime after her break-up with her partner of 10 years. Reaching out and growing a wider circle, she called it. They're nice people she said, but for some reason not the kind of friends she'd invite me to meet. Merle this and Merle that. They were chill, she said and she needed chill after the nasty last few months of her relationship. I was already living in the Cariboo, a six hour drive away. I was in the throes of starting a new business, worried whether I could really make a go of it.

    She was excited about a transfer to a new department in the Society she worked for. She could be really hands on and solve behavioural problems for young adults with special needs who were learning how to become independent. This work thrilled her and Karen was really good at it. Her voice exuded excitement as described "all in a day" with her clients. My sister was very creative, easily thought outside the box, and had the gift of knowing just the right thing to say in the moment of need. I truly admired these traits and enjoyed the humorous stories of situations she found herself in with her clients.

    One time, she proposed to her superiors that two clients she worked with, a couple, deserved to have a holiday, like people do. If you think about it, she implored, with short-falls in funding, the focus is primarily on "training" people who have intellectual disabilities, and they often miss out on the so-called 'normal' things, like vacations. My sister's superiors went for it and the next thing I knew Karen was driving the couple to Edmonton Mall, where they stayed in a hotel, ate out, and window shopped. At first she worried whether they'd stay put in their room over night and she didn't sleep much, listening for the door all night from her adjacent room. She worked on convincing them to try the water slides and after watching people for a couple of days, they agreed to give it a try - first time ever! However, when they went back to the change rooms, the guy - hadn't figured out how to use the locker and all his clothes and shoes had been stolen. He sat naked on one of the benches screaming at the top of his lungs like he was being attacked and several of the staff came running to the rescue. Out of the lost and found they produced some clothes and shoes that fit, fortunately.

    She was dedicated to her work, but her time off was her time off. One night my sister called me, breathless, half crying and her voice spinning - clearly shaken. "Merle, Victoria and me were sitting around in their living room", she told me. "I cooked them a beautiful seafood dinner. After, we smoked some stuff and were feeling pretty good." She was always very honest. "Suddenly, the door was kicked in and three huge men with weapons grabbed Merle and threw him to the floor hitting his head with the butt of their guns and kicking him all over. One guy grabbed Victoria too and wound her hair around his arm, dragging her around and slapping her all over her face."

    "Were you roughed up too?" I asked, reeling. 

    "No," she said. "It's like they didn't even see me there." As the men left, one yelled "Next time we'll fucking kill you and eat your eye-balls". She told me how she slunk out of there pretty quickly and drove home. My thoughts and feelings were tumbling rapidly, in a jumble. What do you say? Neither her, nor I, had ever encountered this level of violence. 

    "Christ, Karen, for fucks sake" is what came out of my mouth. "Who the fuck are you playing with?" Then a softer side woke up, "Are you ok? Thank god you called!" We chatted for a bit more and then she said she was tired and going to bed. My sister had a lot of sleep problems, but when she said she was 'tired and going to bed', she could fall asleep and stay asleep for 24 hours sometimes. "Do you want me to call you tomorrow?" I asked. 

    "Yeah." 

    I slept fitfully that night, with nightmares of those goons taking her and who knows what...worried about what my sister was involved in...worried what Merle was into to warrant such violence. When I called the next day, there was no answer.