Vermeil, Ontario
Fall 1999
The blast scattered bits and pieces of debris over Tanya Caldwell and her canvas. She stared at the glitter of glass speckled on the red tile shingles of her unfinished painting, on her brush and palette, on her hand. Her face. She touched her cheek. Blood as red as the painted shingles coated her fingertips.
"Kathy?" she said. "Kathy, what was that? Where are you?" Her legs shaking, Tanya looked through her broken window and into the driveway.
* * *
In the hospital, they treated Tanya for shock and stitched the deep laceration on her forehead. They couldn't treat the wound in her mind. The Emergency Room admitted her overnight for observation.
"You met this Tanya Caldwell before?" Detective Albert Warner of the Vermeil Police Station asked. He turned toward the front of the hospital elevator and pushed the button for the third floor.
"Yes. Once," Constable Joe Halliday replied. "She had an accident. Actually, she's had more than one. She reported each of them right after they happened."
"What do you know about her?"
"She seemed quiet, well-mannered. Neat. Dark hair and eyes, medium build. She's twenty-two, a student at MacKenzie Academy for the Visual Arts. She's an artist." Halliday hesitated. "A bit strange, maybe? Bottles things up, I think. A dreamer. But aren't all creative people a little off?" He shrugged. Warner frowned.
Warner tapped on the open door to Tanya's room. "Excuse me, Ms. Caldwell?" he asked.
Tanya's closed eyelids fluttered. The white bandage on her forehead accented her pallor, splashes of antiseptic marking her cheeks and chin like war paint. "Yes?" she said, her voice hoarse, rusty.
The detective introduced himself and his partner. "We need to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind. I know it's going to be painful for you, but it will help us find out how it happened."
"No. No, it's all right. Go right ahead." Tanya leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes again. "All I can tell you is I lent my car to my roommate, Kathy Alcin. The car blew up." She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "Kathy's dead. That's all," she said, her voice trailing off in a whisper.
"When the ambulance arrived, you were sitting on the driveway with Ms. Alcin's body in your arms, is that correct?"
"Yes." Tanya's chin and lower lip trembled. "Yes, correct. Her entire right side…the bomb smashed her. It twisted her, tore her apart…" Tanya's eyes were open now. She sat upright, her arms stretched before her as if she still held her friend's body. Tears ran over the antiseptic on her cheeks and fell, small blood-red drops, to the sheets. Her entire body shook with the memory.