Janine Armin - Toronto Noir

Two grown men, one of them not breathing, and a double bass case leaning up against a pile of broomsticks in a closet. The one thing I wanted with me was still out in the hallway. Some drunken asshole was going to knock it down. Or mistake it for the wall beside a urinal and piss on it. Or steal it. I couldn’t afford that.

Don’t know how much time went by. A couple of minutes maybe. Felt like an hour. I heard a snippit of conversation between a pair of girls. It was about fake leather. Like in a jacket or something. And some dude having a bad trip, talking to himself about how Wednesday was zero.

Wednesday was going to be zero for me if I didn’t find a way out of this.

There was only one way to go. You probably saw it coming. I didn’t. Took a bit of thinking. First I had to rip the neck guard out of the case. Made me feel like I had tendinitis. Then I had to push back against the door for leverage. At one point, two or three broom handles fell across to the other wall. They made a loud noise. Insanely loud. My ears were ringing. I even heard the echo of the ringing.

Then everything stopped and I listened to my breathing. Somebody flushed a toilet and opened a door. Footsteps down the hall.

Harmony was still at it.

Things could have been worse. Case might have been too small. I might not have had a case at all. Or a soft-shell case.

There was no air left in the room. I just wanted to get out of there. Took a chance and opened the door wide. No one in the hallway. The case was facing the wrong way. By the time I was ready to go, there was a guy there, trying to get past me to the bathroom. He had to wait while I propped the case against the wall and slid the double bass from the hall into the closet. Closed the door. Then I lumbered down the hallway, past the men’s. He went in and I was alone again. Standing in front of the fire exit. I banged it open and stumbled out into the alley.

Urine never smelled so much like freedom. It was starting to rain though. Thought that might do something about the heat, but it didn’t. I dug into my pocket and pulled out my Tilly knockoff.

Queen Street was busier than it had a right to be west of Dufferin on a Tuesday night. Still, all that traffic would come to an end if I was willing to go far enough. West is the way to go when you’ve got a body in a case and time on your hands.

I started walking, trying to pretend I was just heading to a gig on a usual night in the usual way. But it wasn’t a usual night. And it wasn’t the usual way. Sweat was pouring off me with the rain. Still, people on the sidewalk parted to let me by. Respect for the musician. Nothing like it.

There was a streetcar coming, making its way at a snail’s pace through the traffic in the street. 501. The rain started coming down harder. The sign said, Humber . I figured I’d take it all the way to Humber College and then I could empty out my case somewhere on campus where my cargo might be taken for a wasted student. Humber College. All those red brick buildings where the crazy people used to live, back in the old days when it was the primary mental care village for the whole province.

Getting on the car wasn’t the problem I thought it’d be, though it took a couple of minutes. The driver said something I didn’t understand. I’d turned and was trying to get my weight under the back to pull up the rig and he said, It’s your lucky night. No pole. Air-conditioning.

He was right. There was air-conditioning. It felt good. If he was actually referring to the size of my case relative to the size of the door, I’d have to say he wasn’t making himself very clear.

Car was empty. There’d been people waiting with me at the stop, but they didn’t get on. Made me a bit paranoid. Like maybe I didn’t look as innocent as I thought. People cut a lot of slack for musicians. But maybe they notice when your case weighs more than you do.

Still, we were headed west and nobody was stopping us. We went past the streetcar station at the bottom of Roncy. Caught a view of the lake at the left. There was a big empty patch of darkness on the right that spooked me until I realized it was Grenadier Pond. Then new town houses on the left. I thought I spotted a garbage nest under a bush.

Then something I didn’t expect. We cut to the left suddenly, off the Queensway, and drove underneath the Gardner Expressway. I realized I’d never been this far west before.

Driver said, Humber Loop, last stop, and pulled into the bleakest lot I ever saw. A figure eight of track next to an abandoned snack bar with a sign on the wall that said, Don’t feed the pigeons, beneath a dark wet sky, between two concrete overpasses. Last stop.

I was not going to fit out the center doors, so I rolled my rig up to the front.

Is there going to be another car? I asked.

Yup, said the driver. This car’s 501 Humber. Turns around here. You want the car that says 501 Long Branch.

I hobbled down the steps with the case. He closed the doors. Then opened them again.

Oh yeah, he said. Better hope it has AC.

He closed the doors again and left. Went around the loop and back the way he came. That was pretty funny, I thought, what he said about the air-conditioning. Except the rain was really coming down now. I was starting to get a bit of a chill.

On the upside, I was alone. Looked like I was going to be alone for a while. I leaned my load up against the building and took a look around. Every square inch of that wall had a urine trail leading away from it. Right in front of me there was an electrical tower on a big patch of grass. More streetlights than you’d expect, place like that. To my right, though, the tracks headed south into the gloom. Pulled me to it like a safe haven. There was a wide ditch full of cattails over there below the corner of an old wall. No streetlights. Another circle of tracks with weeds growing out from under them. Right in the middle, a pile of dirt and rocks. That was interesting. I walked over to have a look.

The rain tapered off a bit. I should dump the body here. I tried to think the thought again, so it would make sense. I should dump the body here. Wondered if I’d be able to get him out of the case. No, I should stick to the original plan. Farther west. The red brick buildings of Humber College.

I heard a lurch and rumble behind me, turned and saw a streetcar barreling through, back by the building. 501 Long Branch. I suppressed a surge of panic and started to trot over. Driver didn’t see me and didn’t stop. Didn’t see anything suspicious either, I guess. He barreled around the bend, passing the loop, and moved south under the second overpass.

Next car took its time coming and was heading back around the loop. A couple of teenagers got out. A boy and a girl. Made me nervous at first, but they got preoccupied with one another around the corner of the building.

Finally, the Long Branch came through again. The kids got on, side by side, but they had to break their hand-hold to get around the bar that was inside the door. It was right in the center. Handy for the old ladies to hoist themselves up. My case was two and a half feet wide and over a foot and a half thick. The opening was just about four and a half, with a bar in the middle. There was no way I was getting around that. No way.

Sorry, guy, said the driver. You need a car with AC. He pulled away.

Who calls a guy guy these days?

Looked like I was going to get a cool ride whether I wanted it or not. Next car to come through was going around the loop. This dude got off looked like a sailor in an old movie. He was practically black-and-white.

Car after that had the bar. Driver opened the doors, expecting me to get on. I gestured over to my case.

Any chance of an AC car coming?