Grocery Shopping (short story) by Leanne Dyck

This short story about neighbourliness is set on my island home of Mayne Island, BC

photo by ldyck

  

Grocery Shopping

When my husband Byron was informed that his mom was in the late stages of cancer, we began to plan. Would I travel with him to the Mainland? Who would dog sit? Would our dog come with us? Where would we stay? Would—?

The phone rang.

"I'll be on the next ferry." I heard Byron say.

We consulted the ferry schedule and... There was no time to worry about anything else. He had to go now. I kissed him, and away he went.

We usually go grocery shopping on Saturday afternoons. It was Saturday morning. Our cupboards, our fridge were bare.

No problem, I thought. I'll walk the 45 minutes to the grocery store and get what I need.

Confident, I set out, dog in tow.

It was a sunny day. I thought it would be a nice walk.

Village Bay Road is full of hills and valleys and holes and rocks and... It's full of many challenges for hikers, but I know it well. I've walked it many times—in the past when I was younger.

My dog was delighted by all the new smells. She pulled me this way and that as she followed her nose. When she encountered an especially interesting smell, she stood there like glue. Dragging her away required extra effort.

It was a hot day. It was turning into an exhausting walk. And... And...

I envisioned retracing my steps, weighed down with groceries.

I should have asked a neighbour for a ride, I chided myself. I called myself all sorts of names—which didn't help.

I heard a vehicle behind me.

Maybe they'll s—.

They drove right past.

Another and another.

I was on my o—.

Up ahead, that SUV had stopped. The driver rolled down her window. "Hey, Leanne, I know you like to walk, but I thought maybe you'd like a ride."

Before she finished her sentence my dog and I were in the back seat of her SUV. "We'd love a ride," I said, and she laughed.

"Isn't it a beautiful day," Deb told me as she started down the road. "Where can I take you?"

"I'm going for groceries. Byron was called off-island this morning."

"That sounds sudden. Is someone sick?"

"Doreen. Byron's mom is... is..." Deep breath in. Deep breath out. "Is dying of cancer."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

I'm not sure where Deb had planned to go that day, but she took me directly to the grocery store.

"Take your time shopping. I'll take your dog for a walk—if that's alright with you."

"That's more than alright. Thank you so much."

Of course, I didn't take my time. I couldn't. She was waiting for me. As I shopped, I looked for something, anything that I could buy Deb as a thank-you gift. I settled on a giant cookie from the bakery. All my groceries fit into my backpack and the pack wasn't that heavy. I went to collect my dog from Deb.

"Put your groceries in the back. I'll give you a ride home," Deb told me.

"But don't you have somewhere to go?"

"I'll do that later. I like to drive."

Deb parked in front of my house and I climbed o—.

"Hey, Leanne, you forgot your cookie."

I'd left the giant cookie on the console between the passenger and driver seats.

"No, that's a gift for you for helping me."

It's not enough is what I thought, but Deb said, "That's not necessary, but I'll take it. These cookies are delicious." And she. Thanked. Me.

Many thanks to Alea Design & Print for publishing this short story in this month's MayneLiner .  

 International Night Fundraiser!

Saturday, Sept. 2, 2023: Ag Hall, 6:30-10pm

Finger food, appies & drinks, live music, $25/ticket* (12 & under free)

A fundraiser for the Mayne Island Housing Society

 

International Night revels in Mayne Islanders’ myriad ancestries. Everyone with a cultural heritage to celebrate is invited to the Ag Hall in fun attire (or come as you are). Some may elect to read poems, tell a joke or story, sing/dance/play an instrument on stage. Children welcome too. Enjoy the fun -- plus appetizers from around the world, live music & a silent auction.

For me, the fun of doing an author reading is not only the reading but also selecting the story and deciding how I will present that story. I'm looking forward to representing my Icelandic heritage during this evening of cultural sharing. 

photo by ldyck

September on this blog...

One of the books I'd planned to review this month was Ken Kesey's

Ducks: two years in the oil sands by Kate Beaton (graphic novel, memoir)

 In 2005, like the three hundred ducks stuck in a tailing pond, Canadian lives were being chewed up and spit out in the northern Alberta oil sands. But Kate Beaton is quick to point out: 'you can have both good and bad at the same time in the same place.'

Ducks: two years in the oil sands

Kate Beaton

Drawn & Quarterly

2022

430 pages

Winner of 2023's Canada Reads

New York Times notable book

With a newly obtained arts degree from Mount Allison University, Kate Beaton is determined to repay her student loans. Through family and the Internet, she discovers that 'the best and fastest way of debilitating student loads' is by working in northern Alberta's oil sands. So she is forced to leave her beloved Cape Breton, Nova Scotia home. 

It's been years since I read a graphic novel. With too much stuffed onto the page, I found it too easy to lose my way. However, when Ducks was chosen by the 2023 Canada Reads panel as the book all Canadians should read, I decided to jump on the bandwagon. And I'm glad I did.

Confession: Before Ducks, I'd been avoiding my daily reading hour. After devoting my entire day to research, my dyslexic brain was too exhausted to process any more words. However, Ducks combination of text and illustrations was the perfect motivation to keep reading. And the subject matter was weighty enough to engage my analytical mind. 

Next Sunday on this blog...

Book Review: The Life and Crimes of Hoodie Rosen by Isaac Blum, published by Philomel Books (YA)

 Isaac Blum's book The Life and Crimes of Hoodie Rosen serves as an introduction to Orthodox Jewish culture. It's a thought-provoking story that probes the concepts of otherness and rule-breaking.

The Life and Crimes of Hoodie Rosen

Isaac Blum

Philomel Books

an imprint of Penguin Random House

2022

216 pages

Yehuda "Hoodie" Rosen and his community of Orthodox Jews are interested in carving a life for themselves in the mostly non-Jewish town of Tregaron.

Anna-Maria "Hyphens" Diaz-O'Leary is the daughter of the mayor. Mayor Monica Diaz-O'Leary is spearing a campaign to drive the Jews out of Tregaron.

What happens when Hoodie meets Hyphens?

"'When you see somebody who's not like you, don't push away. Reach out. You might--you might learn something.'" (p. 128)

Isaac Blum invited me into his story through the use of foreshadowing. He kept me turning pages with his mix of humour and suspense. The Life and Crimes of Hoodie Rosen is a much-needed book--a balm for our troubled times. 

August on this blog...

A Wedding Toast (short story) by Leanne Dyck

Thirty-one years ago (it can't be that long ago... And yet it is.) I became Mrs. Dyck (and yet remained Leanne to most). And on that auspicious day, I gave a toast. (Does a bride give a toast? Traditionally no, but this one did.) This short story is about that day and that toast.

(me at the mic--I asked two cousins and an aunt to take pictures at my wedding)

The morning of my wedding day, my dad greeted me with, “Good morning, Mrs. Dyck.”

I’d been debating with myself about whether I should exchange Willetts for Dyck—replace one man’s surname with another. That worry had been taken off my shoulders, leaving room for a bigger worry—will I get my speech written in time?

I’d approached the subject with Mom. “I want to write a speech to read at my wedding.”

“You don’t need that added pressure.”

She just couldn’t understand how important it was to me. So I didn’t ask for her help.

First up that morning was the ceremony and before that preparing for the ceremony. I had a window of time after the photo session and before the reception. If I couldn’t get it written then, I’d have to scrap the idea.

Byron—my newly claimed husband—saw me with pen in hand and asked, “What are you writing?”

“My speech.”

“You mean you haven’t written it yet.”

“I’m writing it now.” I sent him away with a kiss.

My pen didn’t run out of ink and under pressure my brain supplied…

“I would like to lift a glass in appreciation of four very important people. These people are so important, in fact, that without them none of us would be here right now.

“They taught Byron and me how to love. The value of a dollar. Never to stay out too late on a weeknight. The value of good hard work. To believe in the word can. And never to leave the house without our keys or clean underwear. I could go on but they also taught us to be brief. That life is short and time is precious. And so please join us in a toast to our parents. To Ron, Doreen, Jim and Oli—Ollie—Mom.”

Our 118 guests laughed at my fumble, but not in a mean way.

“Thank you for everything and we love you.”

(my husband and I are in the middle, my in-laws are on the left, and my parents are on the right)

August on this blog...