Just over a month ago, I found out that a good friend of mine was in rough shape and was a few weeks away from being homeless. I made arrangements with her to drive up and get her and bring her and as many of her worldly possessions that would fit into the trunk and back seat of my Honda back down to the Lower Mainland. We'd find her a shelter here and, hopefully, they'd get her on the path to finding an affordable and secure place to live longer term. A week and a half before I was supposed to drive up there, I got a phone call informing me that she'd had a heart attack. Her heart had stopped, but they managed to get it started again. She went in for immediate surgery and had a stent placed. Three days later she was released from hospital. Five days after that, I was driving her and her things back here.
She managed to find a good shelter that was willing to work with her recent health issues. It sounds like they've been doing a wonderful job of getting all her health concerns addressed, as well as working towards finding her a more permanent residence.
She can come and visit me at my home, and she's allowed to spend the night. We did that a few weeks ago. So I thought nothing of making the same arrangements with her for last Wednesday. Come and visit all afternoon, spend the night, and I'd take her back the next day.
She can come and visit me at my home, and she's allowed to spend the night. We did that a few weeks ago. So I thought nothing of making the same arrangements with her for last Wednesday. Come and visit all afternoon, spend the night, and I'd take her back the next day.
Before that, my father had flown out for a visit and stayed with us for a week. It was a wonderful visit. My brother also came over and stayed a few days at the same time. My brother is also currently in a rough place in his life and needs a little support to "start over again." So it was decided then that he'd move over here from the island and stay with us a while so that he can do what he needs to do just to hit zero again. For those of you who are struggling in this economy, you know exactly how striving to reach zero feels almost like an impossible dream. My brother said he'd be back in about a week or two because he needed to take care of things where he was (like giving a month's notice to his landlord and move his stuff out, et cetera).
A couple days after my brother left and my dad left, my friend called me from the shelter and I made arrangements with her to come and spend Wednesday into Thursday with me.
The Tuesday night before, I was babysitting my nieces and my mother informed me that my brother and his kids were coming over on Wednesday. I admit that for a split second I panicked, but then I calmed down and thought that, while things will be a little cramped, it was just one night that she'd be in our full house and it would be fun.
So Wednesday August the 3rd rolls around. I go and pick up my friend at 11:00 a.m. We spend a wonderful afternoon just visiting and catching up. My older boys are all excited and chatting with us off and on about a concert they're going to that night (Slayer/Rob Zombie) downtown. Firework competition display is also going on that night, so they were a bit concerned about public transit being quite busy.
Older boys head off around 4:00 p.m. I make dinner (spaghetti with no-salt-added tomato sauce -- really good, by the way) and my friend and I visit some more. Phone rings around 8:00 p.m. and it's my ex-husband. He's the father to my oldest two boys and, despite separation and divorce, we have managed to stay really good friends. He informs me that oldest son called him because second son (18 years old) drank way too much alcohol and is puking and incoherent at the bus terminal. Ex is driving on his way to get second son.
Older boys head off around 4:00 p.m. I make dinner (spaghetti with no-salt-added tomato sauce -- really good, by the way) and my friend and I visit some more. Phone rings around 8:00 p.m. and it's my ex-husband. He's the father to my oldest two boys and, despite separation and divorce, we have managed to stay really good friends. He informs me that oldest son called him because second son (18 years old) drank way too much alcohol and is puking and incoherent at the bus terminal. Ex is driving on his way to get second son.
Fifteen minutes later, phone rings again. It's my brother's daughter calling to say they were on the 8:15 ferry. A quick mental calculation indicated they'd arrive at my house by 11:00 p.m.
Phone rings again 10 minutes later. Ex is telling me that second son is lying in the dirt beside some railroad tracks and refusing to move. My ex is having a hell of a time getting son into the car. I tell ex to tell son that he has 5 minutes to get in the car or else an ambulance is going to be called. I also tell my ex that, once son gets into car, he needs to take son straight to the local hospital and I'll meet them there.
I apologize profusely to my friend, but am thankful that she's there. My husband would be on his way to bed soon and she was willing to let my brother and his kids in if I was still at the hospital with son. Almost 9:00 p.m. and I'm off to the hospital.
When I arrive at the hospital I see my ex standing behind our son who is sitting in a wheelchair. At least I assumed it was our son. All I could see was a body with a bucket on its head. I walk over and confirm that bucket head really is my son. Triage nurse comes over and asks what the problem is. My ex says he thinks our son has a bad case of "Captain Morganitis." Nurse has no idea what Captain Morgan is and is not amused. Ex says that son has had too much to drink. Nurse replies "then why did you bring him here?" I jump in at this point and say "I'm concerned about dehydration due to excessive vomiting and also want to rule out alcohol poisoning." Nurse nods her head in understanding and simply says "oh."
Son is taken back to a bed in the ER, told to put on a gown and then an IV was put in. There are obviously more things said and done in here (some quite humorous), but I have to skip over them at this time to keep the story moving.
Ex is talking to me about how things are going with him. His dad died a couple of months ago and his mother recently moved in with him as she was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. The bucket son had on his head is the bucket she keeps with her after radiation treatment. Ex explains that she has about a week's worth of rad treatments to go. He lets me know he's seeing a therapist and is on stress leave from work right now. We talk for a bit and then ex needs to leave for about half an hour (needs to pick something up from the store before it closes to take to his mom). He says he'll be back, and he is. By that time, a bag of IV fluid had been put into son and he's more alert. Alcohol poisoning is ruled out and we're given the go ahead to take him home and care for him there. Son takes off hospital gown and leaves the hospital in his underwear (no interest in putting on his vomit soaked clothing). We live in a small town, it's after 10:30 at night, and no one seems to notice or care.
Son rides with his dad back to my house. When I pull up, I see my mom's van parked across the street. I can't understand why she's there. My brother isn't arriving until 11:00 and is she really at my house this late to see him come in?!?
Ex stops car in front of my house. Son tries to argue that we should just let him sleep on the bathroom floor downstairs as he won't make it upstairs to his bed. I disagree and figure as long as we get him moving, I can get him into his bed. My mom, however, comes out the front door and is standing in the path between us and the house. Immediately she comments "He's got no shoes on. Where are his shoes? Isn't he going to need his shoes? He's going to be walking across gravel in sock feet."
Ex stops car in front of my house. Son tries to argue that we should just let him sleep on the bathroom floor downstairs as he won't make it upstairs to his bed. I disagree and figure as long as we get him moving, I can get him into his bed. My mom, however, comes out the front door and is standing in the path between us and the house. Immediately she comments "He's got no shoes on. Where are his shoes? Isn't he going to need his shoes? He's going to be walking across gravel in sock feet."
I want her to get out of the way and don't feel like having this discussion right at this moment and so I say "his dad picked him up rolling around and puking in gravel; he can walk across this 6 inches of it just fine. I do NOT want to talk about this right here right now."
I get son moving and, sure enough, I get him upstairs into his bedroom and into his bed. I come out of his room and into the upstairs living room where my friend is sitting. I ask her "Why is my mom here?" She says to me "I need to talk to you. Is there somewhere private we can go?"
So we go out the back behind my garage. My friend relates how my mother came over and my third son answered the door and my mom let herself in. She starts to come upstairs and is yelling for my husband. Husband is in bed, but he gets up to see what she wants. She wants to know if my brother is here yet. No, he isn't. She wants to know where I am. Hubby tells her. She wants to know when my brother will get here. My friend tells her. Then my mom blurts out that she needs to speak to him because there was a murder on the island. My friend then took my mom downstairs and was talking to her there while hubby went back to bed. My friend tells my mom that she shouldn't tell this to my brother with his kids present.
Just as my friend is finishing telling me all of this, my brother pulls up at the back where we are. I walk over and calmly tell him that our mom is there and that she'd like to talk to him alone. My brother asks if everything is okay. I say "I think so. She just wants to have a moment to talk to you alone."
My brother lets the kids out of the van and proceeds to go around the block to the front of the house where my mother still is.
I take the kids inside and let them settle in front of the television. Then I go out the front to tell my mom that my brother is here and on his way to the front. She's standing in the street talking to my ex who is still there as well.
My brother pulls up and says hi to my ex. They are good friends as well. My brother has to take two ferries to get off the island because he's going from a small island to a bigger island then back to the mainland. A small ferry and then a big ferry.
My brother starts relating how they were delayed from getting off the small ferry. The captain had said over the intercom that everyone needed to have ID ready. Police boarded the boat and were checking ID's, writing down licence plate numbers and searching all vehicles. My brother was driving a van and the police searched it top to bottom. Then everyone was allowed to disembark. He didn't know why they were doing that, but thought maybe it was an Amber Alert.
My mom says she has more information that may shed some light on that, but my brother can finish visiting with my ex first. I say "No. You can't leave him hanging like that. Tell him. Finish what you started." My ex agrees with me.
So my mom proceeds to tell my brother that there was a murder on the island. His landlord is dead and her son has been flown to hospital in critical condition. Suspect is at large. He should call the police and talk to them.
My brother calls the island RCMP and talks to an officer there. He gives them my number and they are told to call any time. They do. Calls were coming in from them up to about 5:00 a.m.
We decide not to tell his kids that night. They are safe here. My brother just tells them that there's some stuff he has to deal with back home. My mom goes home. Kids go to bed. My friend and I talk for a little bit.
Over the course of the next few hours I find out a bit more about what happened. The suspect is a friend of my brother's. My brother and his kids were actually with the suspect and the victims about 10 minutes before the assaults happened.
The island is on complete shutdown. No ferries coming or going. About 50 officers and SWAT have gone to the island. Helicopters, Coast Guard and police boats are patrolling the island. Residents are warned to go inside and keep doors and windows locked. They are told to keep their pets inside so as to not impede the dog teams that have gone over.
My brother is worried about the safety of his ex (mother of his kids) as well as all his friends on the island. Police were on a manhunt but could not find the suspect.
No one on the island slept that night. My brother didn't sleep that night. I finally fell asleep around 4:00 a.m., but was up by 6:30 a.m.
Around 9:00 a.m. word came through that suspect was located and arrested.
The next day, Thursday, was a long exhausting day. My brother's kids were informed of the basics of what had happened. I apologized profusely to my friend saying that had I known even one of those things were going to occur, I would have postponed my invitation for when she should come and visit. I asked her if she could call the shelter and see if she could spend another night. I said I would drive her back, but on only two and a half hours of sleep, I'd rather not drive if I didn't have to. She said they usually don't like people staying away for more than one night, but when she called and explained the situation, they let her stay an extra night due to "unusual circumstances."
Like I said earlier, there are a lot more details throughout the entire evening, but I thought I'd write down just the bare bones gist of things because I needed to get it out.
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