― Riitta Klint
Every Leaf a Flower
The weekend finally has arrived after a stressful month of dealing with the harassment of our stalker and his eventual capture and arrest. How that will eventually play out, I have no idea, but for now there will be some peace in that area of our lives.
The only remaining contentious issue to be resolved concerns Warren and Grayson and their attempts to quash legitimate concerns of the Student Voices movement.
But even that conflict no longer seems threatening, because as Breton says, this 'dynamic' duo are just toothless tigers who can only roar their displeasure...or so it seems...
It remains to be seen because with me nothing ever seems to go according to conventional wisdom.
On Sunday, we decide to go for a drive and take in the fall colours. The Niagara Escarpment is beautiful this time of year.
Camus wrote in his Carnets, Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower. But he never saw these northern colours, glowing in the sunlight like a dazzling aurora borealis...
And he certainly never saw Autumn Chandler or he might have had another beauty to complete his paean of praise.
We're driving windows down on the SUV with Autumn tilted back in the seat allowing the wind liberty with her hair, waving her tresses like a banner fluttering in the chill fall air.
"Let's stop and gather leaves," Autumn suggests.
"Are you thinking of making a fall wreath?" I ask.
"Something like that," she murmurs dreamily. "Actually, I want to take some of the best and wax and preserve them. I want to remember this day forever, so when we're old we can touch this moment and never lose it."
I was about to respond when my cell rang over the vehicle's sound system―that's the downside of hands-free phoning, because you feel compelled to answer.
It was Gillian, the detective investigating our stalker case.
"Hey Jake, wanted to know if you'd be free this afternoon so I could touch base with you guys and update you on the case?"
"What time did you have in mind?"
"I've got a tight schedule but four o'clock is free."
I glanced at Autumn who shrugged resignedly and nodded her okay.
"We'll see you then," I said.
"It must be important," I told Autumn, "she'll relay informational updates over the phone, but sensitive intel she needs to deliver in person."
"Don't worry about it―I understand. The colours will be here for a few weeks. Maybe we can do this again next week―Canadian Thanksgiving."
"Are you looking for a respite from your family's feast?" I teased.
"Well, somewhere along the line we'll need to get away from the scrutiny. My dad means well, but he can be a little intense."
"Hmm, sounds like someone else I know," I laughed. "I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
"I'll take that as a compliment," she smiled mischievously.
She was right on that score―her intensity didn't deter me but fanned the flame of my interest. It got us to where we are now, so it must be an asset.
But I couldn’t help but wonder what news Gillian wanted to impart to us. Perhaps, the perp’s identity or who hired him to harass us.
A niggling doubt began eating away at my new-found confidence. Ironically, it crossed my mind that we might not be totally out of the woods―danger might still be threatening, gathering like ominous storm clouds on the horizon.