Pebbles and Bricks

It's the last day of my holidays - well, the last official day - and what an incredible BLUR this week has been. I feel as if I've been spinning my wheels this entire week. I've been busy nearly every minute, it seems, and yet I feel as though I've nothing to show for it. I have a deck that's not finished. I have a house that needs cleaning and a garden that needs tending, and most importantly, I have a daughter who's come to visit and with whom I've spent very little time. My guilt gremlin has been tapping my shoulder and tugging at my sleeve lately, Ms J. And he's hard to ignore. I just feel that I haven't been showing Meagan the attention she deserves. I've chosen instead to pursue my own selfish interests: working on the deck with the lads from work and with Tammy and Adam, socialising with friends, racing off to buy building materials, spending the evening in Caledon, auditioning for a play.

My friend Frankie has often offered this bit of wisdom:

"First God tosses a pebble, then He throws a brick."

Last night, Ms Journal, He threw a brick.

We had just returned home, Meagan and I, from a backyard barbecue at Christine's house. It was fun, Ms J, to see old friends again and to make some new ones. Tom and Frankie were there. And Girl Alex. Bob and his lovely actress friend, Lois. And we were introduced to Steenie's new beau. His name is Jeff. Nice fellow. About fifteen people attended. Meagan was bored perhaps, but amused herself with my digital camera, snapping dozens of photos of party guests.


Girl Alex


Bob -- Actor, house painter, friend.


Steenie and me. She called it a "Firefly Ball" and she was dressed as a firefly, wings and all. Yes, she did get a glow on and no, her bum did not glow.


Frankie and me and GA.

Frankie had given me a book for GA and I'd forgotten to bring it to the party.

"That's OK, Dale," said Alex. "Maybe I could catch a ride home with you, grab the book, and then you could drop me at the subway. Besides, I'd like to see your new deck."

And so that's what we did. When we left the party, we came here, just GA and Meagan and I. Scout took my keys and opened the front door and led us through the house to the back. It was dark outside and she turned the exterior light on and opened the sliding glass door.

"This way, Alex," she chirped happily. "Check it out."

We followed her out onto the raised wooden platform and Meagan headed straight for the edge. There were stairs there leading down five steps to the lawn but they hadn't been fastened together. I'd set the wood there earlier to see how it looked. It wasn't safe at all to walk on.

"See? You can just ..."

And she was gone.

We raced to the edge and peered down into the darkness where we could see Meagan lying in a pile of steps and stringers. For a moment, Ms J, everything stopped. My heart. The earth's rotation. Time itself. And there was nothing, only a jumble of white arms and legs lying crumpled in a heap.

"Meagan! Are you alright?" I cried.

She was quiet for a moment and then she began to laugh. It was an embarrassed laugh, though. It was a frightened, embarrassed, I-hope-I'm-not-hurt kind of laugh. It was chilling.

"Oh my God!" Alex said. "Is she OK? Meagan! Are you OK?"

She was standing up now and I could hear the sound of the wood as she climbed out of the tangle. She was laughing louder now, laughing harder. But it wasn't the sound of real laughter. It was frightening.

"Yeah," she said, trying to sound convincing, "I'm fine. I'm fine."

She'd been wearing sunglasses and they were crooked on her face. I could just make out her eyes behind the tinted glass. They were filled with tears. She was struggling to regain her composure. I reached down to her.

"Here, Hunny. Take my hands. I'll pull you up."

"No, Dad. Really. I'm fine." She was still laughing that strange laugh.

"Can you walk?" I asked her. "Do you want to walk around to the side door?"

She didn't want any of that, Ms J. She just wanted to feel normal again. She was frightened and shocked and extremely embarrassed. Eventually, she raised her arms to me and I pulled her back onto the deck.

Inside, we checked her injuries and they were slight. There was a small scuff on her lower back and an abrasion weeping red on her upper arm. We cleaned her up and applied a couple of band-aids and she was good as new.

And my pulse returned. The Earth began again its rotation.

On Sunday afternoon, Meagan is going to camp for a week. Teen Ranch again. Then she'll go home to Norval. In a month, she'll start high school. My daughter is growing up so fast. And I've been ignoring her.

I am so sorry, Scout. It's my fault those steps were unsafe. I am so thankful that your injuries were minor. It could have been much worse. I know you love me and I know you forgive me, but I'll try harder to be a more attentive dad. I promise.


Thankfully, no broken ribs.

***