Trigger warning: This chapter contains a short discussion (not a scene) about violence against women. It's right at the very end of the chapter.

***

Caleb's gaze scanned the many strip malls and fast-food places as we drove through the city. "Looks like you won't be missing your second home so much with all these options." He nodded toward the Chinese, Japanese, and Indian restaurants popping up in the retail complexes.

"Sadly, we have few Indonesian restaurants. Lots of Thai and Filipino though, so I can relive that if I ever move back here."

The thought weighed down my arms as I drove. As nice as it would be to reconnect with my friends and hang out more, going through winters, finding a career that was scuba diving in pools or returning to lifeguarding didn't appeal to me. I could find a different job, but I wanted one that I was excited about, and what I loved most was diving and sharing that passion with others.

"Do you get homesick?" Caleb asked.

"For certain things. Christmas abroad is weird. It's just another day and depending on the shop, sometimes you work. But I don't miss the winter weather, the busy city, or the family gatherings."

"I can understand why."

I nodded but stayed quiet, as I didn't want to expand on the topic from my side. We'd dealt with enough of my family drama yesterday. Caleb tapped his fingers against his thigh.

"Whenever we had parties with my mom's relatives around the holidays, it always turned into a fight. My mom goes to bat for every racist generalization her family makes while they'll throw back that they're not racist and give examples that confirm their biased opinions about people's skills or work ethic. My dad tells her she doesn't have to, but she told me she does it because she loves him more than she cares about placating her parents."

I wasn't sure my folks would do that for each other, not that the situation would come up given that they both had Western European ancestry. But it showed how much Caleb's mom valued her husband. Love like that prickled my heart in both a pleasant and painful way.

It also irked me that people were such hypocrites. They ranted about 'foreigners' when their ancestors, and mine, had arrived as the first foreigners, forced Indigenous people off the land, stolen it with promises and treaties they never intended to keep, committed genocide with children as the main targets, enslaved people, and now complained about anyone entering 'their' country and reaping the benefits. If they should feel anything, it should be a drive to fight for a more equitable society. Or at the very least an attempt to understand what other people go through.

"That's awful your extended family acts that way, and I hope someday it stops. But your parents sound lovely."

That made him smile. "When it's only the four of us, it's the best."

I was happy he had that experience, though somewhat envious. Would I have turned out differently if I'd grown up surrounded by healthy love on a more regular basis? Or, as my mom theorized, would a sibling have helped me through my parent's words and actions like Caleb had done for me since his arrival?

As a kid, I'd watched my mother's criticism and outspokenness destroy my dad's confidence and send him off with curses under his breath. I'd also witnessed his distant nature and limited communication with her make my mom feel hopeless about the dreams they'd had when they got married, dreams she still wanted but only fulfilled once I'd grown up and visiting me gave them an excuse to travel.

I sympathized with my dad since she treated me similarly. A mistake was never forgotten in our house. She brought up things my dad, and I had broken over a decade ago or ways I'd tried to cook something wrong in a 'teasing' way. It chipped away your self-worth and made you want to avoid taking risks. Although both her sister and mom had spoken to her like that, my mom's abrasive nature was watered down from what she'd lived.

I also empathized with my mom because I'd experienced the emotional distance with my dad when she was working shifts every other weekend and it was just him and I. It took a while to convince him to practice soccer with me or play a board game together. It seemed like he had a kid because it was expected of him, but the reality of it was tiring. Now that I was an adult, and we had shared interests, it was better, but when his actions, which weren't meant to be cold and pointed but were, brought my mom to tears, I could relate.

They'd planned a trip together as part of one of his work conferences and added a week of sightseeing together afterward. Without consulting her, my dad decided it would be easier not to add on the extra week and guest and booked the hotel and flight solo. It would have been the first time my mom took a plane in fifteen years. My dad travelled often for work, and I had my school trips. Yet, her travelling comprised our cross-country road trips when she'd imagined a marriage full of big adventures after honeymooning together in Europe. But my dad was too anxious about visiting the US and hated the idea of travelling with a kid, so my mom's victory was convincing him to go on family camping trips. When she had a shred of hope for more, my dad snatched it away, not because he wanted to hurt her, but because he didn't understand how much it had meant to her.

So considering all of that, I suppose that's why I freaked out when Trevor wanted to move together. For my mom, getting married and having a family meant her dreams went on hold or worse, appeared and dissolved before her eyes, yet my dad got more freedom. I wasn't willing to do that, regardless of how much I loved Trevor. If I stayed, we might have had that family I didn't want, and I didn't want to carry that resentment in my heart for decades, only to have it soothed when my child reassured me as I cried. Nor did I want to take it out on Trevor. He deserved someone eager to have kids with him.

Divorce impacted kids, but as I grew up, I wondered if we would have all had happier lives if I had parents who loved their partners and treated each other well.

Yet, my mother never regretted her choice nor blamed me for it like some toxic parents did. She still counted it as the best part of her life, even if our relationship was strained. And she worked hard to provide all the things she had wanted but her family couldn't when she was growing up like a room all to myself, new and brand-name clothes I didn't have to sew myself, school trips, lunches with whatever unhealthy treats I picked out at the grocery store with her, and family trips outside of the province. She did everything possible to make my childhood fun and full. While I admire and appreciate her efforts, the fights and never feeling good enough stick with me the most.

Caleb's eyes were on me as we approached a red light near an open field.

"Enjoying the drive?" I asked to apologize for my distracted silence.

"Yeah, what's over there?"

"The University of Manitoba."

"I think Vince graduated from there. It has the American football stadium, right?"

I nodded.

"Did you go there too?"

"No, University of Winnipeg. Got my artsy degree. I imagine you were an environmental sciences guy."

"I was, and what arts were you into?"

"English and human geography. Wish I'd taken more sciences."

"You have an interest in it. Never too late, though."

"Nah, I'll mooch information from benevolent Aussies and the specialists I guide on the reefs."

He chuckled, sending him into a smile. The radio's cheerful pop song matched his mood. "I've learned more from you than I've shared with you."

"Home field advantage."

The conversation grew easier after that as I got out of my head, and soon I'd driven us to Saint Boniface where I found a two-hour free parking spot near the cathedral, or what was left of it after the fire in the late sixties. The limestone front still made a gorgeous enough setting that the newer replacement church charged a hundred dollars an hour for wedding photos here. Claire said they'd considered it, but opted for a more natural park and farm background instead, which meant more to them.

We left the car and headed into the cathedral and cemetery area.

"Is that French?" Caleb asked as he looked at the tombstones.

"Lots of old French settlers and religious figures are buried here. Even the man who founded our province, who was hanged for the horrific crime of demanding rights for the French and Métis people from the English."

Caleb tucked his hands in his pockets. "It was a horrific idea for the Europeans and still is to enough people in many corners of the world. People see it as a threat to their rights, which aren't available to everyone."

"Hopefully, those ideas dwindle with each generation." However, each passing year gave me less certainty.

"Hard to be optimistic these days."

Sadly, he was right. I imagined he'd experienced it firsthand beyond what he mentioned about his maternal family.

"Is it bad where you're from?"

He paused and took in another tombstone. "It's not as much what they say to my face, though when some jerks are pissed off, the nasty accusations and 'go back to where you came from' comments come out, but what they discuss when they think I'm out of earshot, even people who usually treat me with respect. If that's what they believe, are any of our interactions genuine, you know? Am I safe?"

"That's a haunting thought. I take it that it's hard to make friends in that environment."

"On the coast, it was better. I grew up there, and it's normal to see more than just white faces, but two years ago I moved inland to this more rural settler town, and... it's been isolating. I still talk to my family and visit when I can, but the comments... they get to you no matter how spectacular the nature is."

As we headed toward the street near the cemetery gate, I nodded. While I had no personal experience with racism, I'd had plenty of sexist comments directed at me over the years, and when people assumed you were a lesser person or more of a sexual object than a person, it was both infuriating and heartbreaking.

"I'm sorry you've had to go through that. Are you living out there much longer?"

He shook his head. "I sublet my apartment and am moving to my hometown when I'm back."

"You must be looking forward to that."

He had a loving and supportive family. He swallowed and ran his hands over the phone in his pocket. "Something like that," he mumbled.

Once we finished crossing the street so we were next to the river, I said, "I'll stand up for you if people are jerks here. The only things I'd say behind your back are compliments."

He regarded me with a light smile. "Thanks."

His talking mood seemed to have vanished, so I took up the conversational space by identifying different wildflowers along the river path, which piqued his interest. I pointed out a few buildings, like the onion-shaped glass building that housed the Human Rights Museum. Ironically or sadly, they'd spent a fortune on the architecture for a showy building when that money should have instead helped people in the city meet their basic needs. But it looked good on a tourist brochure and the landscape, so the decision was made.

We crossed the pedestrian bridge that spanned the Red River, passing pedestrians in groups and cyclists. A group of tents were set up to the right of the end of the bridge, in front of the museum.

"What are those for?" Caleb asked.

I looked closer at the signs that read 'MMIWG'. My heart fell like it did every time another woman or girl went missing, which happened too often in this city. "It's raising awareness of missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls, and two-spirit people."

The number of unsolved crimes against Indigenous people was staggering and a clear sign of racism still very much alive in our country and this city.

"Last spring, they found the remains of an Indigenous woman in a dumpster and more in the landfill. Three other women went missing around that time, but they were never found. People have petitioned the government to search the other landfill where they suspect the missing women's remains are, but the provincial government said it wasn't feasible. Even if it means being able to give the families closure and properly convict a suspected serial killer who has a violent past that the justice system continues to let pass despite several appeals for protection from past partners he'd physically abused and raped. As you said, human rights like life and safety aren't equal. And the decision not to search the landfill was made by our first female provincial premier."

"I don't have words... that's... Other than this camp? Is there anything anyone's doing to help?"

I nodded as anger and sadness swirled in my chest like a vortex. "There's another at the landfill, and protests too. People should never have to go through this to bury their loved ones. They've brought it to the attention of the federal government so they can do a study on how possible it is. It's just more stalling."

"That's horrible."

"There's an election this fall though. Hopefully people are fed up enough with the Conservative government to vote them out."

"Can you?"

I shook my head. "I've been living abroad too long, but I'll talk to my mom."

If I shared some merits of the candidates who valued people over profits with my mom, she might vote that way. While we butted heads, she was compassionate to larger societal issues and grew up in a town next to a reserve with a close Indigenous friend and a lot of contempt for her racist mother. I could see her voting for a party who would support a search.

This is the first of two chapters posted today. It turned out much heavier than I intended, but it felt wrong not to include the section on MMIWG or what Caleb has gone through.

I set this scene in summer 2023 and sadly what Audrey shared is entirely true. To further show how much the government devalues Indigenous lives, the political party mentioned in the story added not searching the landfill to their campaign promises. Thankfully they were voted out, an Indigenous premier is in power now and in favour of the search. It might begin in October, over two years after these women went missing. The trial for the man charged with these four murders is set to start next month (April 2024).