‘racist,’ because she hadn’t loved and
embraced Matthew’s China bride!
Judy shook her
head and laughed. Gosh, that ‘racist’ crap was getting old already.
It had been hurled around so much. It was such a silly accusation
akin to the McCarthy era’s witch-hunt for ‘communists,’ but on a
much grander scale. Yet it had the power to destroy reputations,
careers and lives. And would do so until decent people summonsed up
enough courage to speak out against it, en masse.
She sat down
by the window and watched the dawn steal over Vancouver. The city
had changed so much that it bore no resemblance to the place she’d
been born and grew up in. Now officially recognised as the most
congested city in North America, it was home to more Asians than
Europeans, and Mandarin had overtaken English as the most spoken
language. She felt like a stranger in her own land.
Judy grimaced.
Of course, the aboriginals would claim it was really their land and that her ancestors had stolen it from them. Not so. If you
cannot defend your property you won’t hang onto it for long, and
that’s what happened in North America. Whoever has the superior
firing power wins, and in this case it had been the Europeans.
She shivered,
recalling Juanita’s overly bright and spooky eyes. They reminded
her of demons at the gates to hell. The upshot was that the limp
dick of a judge, a weasely little runt named Shanks -- who Juanita
probably sucked off in chambers -- had ruled in Matthew’s favour.
So much for the impartiality and fairness of the law. Despite her
gloomy mood, on this worst day of her life, Judy laughed
derisively.
With the last
of her savings blown on legal fees, and Matthew released from any
financial obligation towards her, she had been well and truly
fucked. Shortly thereafter the bank had foreclosed.
Judy checked
her appearance in the hall mirror, and was suddenly overcome by
nostalgia. After all the thousands of times she’d done it over the
years, this would be the last. Tears sprung to her eyes. She
decided that she looked surprisingly good -- smooth skin and even
features -- for someone about to become a bag lady. Her dark hair
was now streaked with grey and she wore it pinned back in a
bun.
She thanked
her love of walking for keeping her slim and fit. It would hold her
in good stead now that she’d be living on the streets, for even if
she managed to find a women’s shelter at night, they booted
everyone out at 7:00 am. What did someone with no home to go to, do
at such an ungodly hour? Go sit in a coffee shop, she supposed,
until they threw you out. But it would be one heck of a long day,
since the shelters didn’t allow anyone back in again, until late in
the evening. Of course, if the weather was good, one could always
while away the hours on a park bench. Ain’t life grand!
Yikes, if her
parents were still alive and could see her now. They’d never
believe that their only daughter, who’d gone to the very best
schools and enjoyed an excellent home environment, could be
suddenly cast down so low, and all because she’d put her trust in
the wrong man.
The sweet call
of a chickadee cut in on Judy’s gloomy thoughts. It echoed
plaintively through the grim grey dawn. She wondered who would feed
the birds once she was either dead or living on the streets? And
what would happen to Molly, the little striped cat she’d adopted
from an animal shelter?
She shivered.
With winter closing in, there couldn’t be a worse time of year to
be without shelter. The sleeping pills, with their promise of
blessed oblivion beckoned.
It wasn’t as
if she were throwing her life away. She’d already lived most of her
3 score years and ten. Soon it would be time to face the grim
reaper anyway. Better sooner than later, if the intervening years
were going to be spent in a state of degrading hardship and
poverty. Now that her home was as good as gone, she really didn’t
see any point in continuing.
Judy emptied
the bottle of
embraced Matthew’s China bride!
Judy shook her
head and laughed. Gosh, that ‘racist’ crap was getting old already.
It had been hurled around so much. It was such a silly accusation
akin to the McCarthy era’s witch-hunt for ‘communists,’ but on a
much grander scale. Yet it had the power to destroy reputations,
careers and lives. And would do so until decent people summonsed up
enough courage to speak out against it, en masse.
She sat down
by the window and watched the dawn steal over Vancouver. The city
had changed so much that it bore no resemblance to the place she’d
been born and grew up in. Now officially recognised as the most
congested city in North America, it was home to more Asians than
Europeans, and Mandarin had overtaken English as the most spoken
language. She felt like a stranger in her own land.
Judy grimaced.
Of course, the aboriginals would claim it was really their land and that her ancestors had stolen it from them. Not so. If you
cannot defend your property you won’t hang onto it for long, and
that’s what happened in North America. Whoever has the superior
firing power wins, and in this case it had been the Europeans.
She shivered,
recalling Juanita’s overly bright and spooky eyes. They reminded
her of demons at the gates to hell. The upshot was that the limp
dick of a judge, a weasely little runt named Shanks -- who Juanita
probably sucked off in chambers -- had ruled in Matthew’s favour.
So much for the impartiality and fairness of the law. Despite her
gloomy mood, on this worst day of her life, Judy laughed
derisively.
With the last
of her savings blown on legal fees, and Matthew released from any
financial obligation towards her, she had been well and truly
fucked. Shortly thereafter the bank had foreclosed.
Judy checked
her appearance in the hall mirror, and was suddenly overcome by
nostalgia. After all the thousands of times she’d done it over the
years, this would be the last. Tears sprung to her eyes. She
decided that she looked surprisingly good -- smooth skin and even
features -- for someone about to become a bag lady. Her dark hair
was now streaked with grey and she wore it pinned back in a
bun.
She thanked
her love of walking for keeping her slim and fit. It would hold her
in good stead now that she’d be living on the streets, for even if
she managed to find a women’s shelter at night, they booted
everyone out at 7:00 am. What did someone with no home to go to, do
at such an ungodly hour? Go sit in a coffee shop, she supposed,
until they threw you out. But it would be one heck of a long day,
since the shelters didn’t allow anyone back in again, until late in
the evening. Of course, if the weather was good, one could always
while away the hours on a park bench. Ain’t life grand!
Yikes, if her
parents were still alive and could see her now. They’d never
believe that their only daughter, who’d gone to the very best
schools and enjoyed an excellent home environment, could be
suddenly cast down so low, and all because she’d put her trust in
the wrong man.
The sweet call
of a chickadee cut in on Judy’s gloomy thoughts. It echoed
plaintively through the grim grey dawn. She wondered who would feed
the birds once she was either dead or living on the streets? And
what would happen to Molly, the little striped cat she’d adopted
from an animal shelter?
She shivered.
With winter closing in, there couldn’t be a worse time of year to
be without shelter. The sleeping pills, with their promise of
blessed oblivion beckoned.
It wasn’t as
if she were throwing her life away. She’d already lived most of her
3 score years and ten. Soon it would be time to face the grim
reaper anyway. Better sooner than later, if the intervening years
were going to be spent in a state of degrading hardship and
poverty. Now that her home was as good as gone, she really didn’t
see any point in continuing.
Judy emptied
the bottle of
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